Page 8 of When I Forgot Us (Blue River #1)

Her emotions had been as fragmented as her mind, but she’d thought that part of her journey over since coming here.

Chase prodded at the most sensitive areas of her disconnect.

He challenged her to move forward, which was exactly what she wanted.

So why did she take offense when he pointed out the obvious?

The fact that her guard shot up instantly was problematic.

“Do you believe things happen for a reason?”

The chaplain at the hospital had said something along those lines and it hit a sore spot.

Chase stood in his stirrups and raised his arms up and back, grabbing a bridle from a hook on the wall behind him.

He threaded the reins through his fingers, then worked the latches open and closed.

His eyes remained glued on the strips of black leather that looked like a chaotic mess to her eyes, but he completely understood.

“I think God has a reason for everything. We may never understand the why, and maybe we’re not meant to.

There’s a verse in the Bible that talks about sacrificing, and one of the things I’ve had to learn to give up is my need for controlling every aspect of my life.

I was never in control. I’m never going to be in control.

And if I believe that God has my best interests at heart, then I can learn to be okay with not knowing why things happen.

” He paused. “But people are another matter. God gave us free will, and sometimes people are horrible.”

She had nothing to say to that. Honestly, her mind went kind of blank as she processed such a ridiculous way of going through life. Was it ridiculous?

“You know what I find funny?”

“I’m not falling for that.” Chase grabbed a white bottle and sprayed it on the bridle.

He followed that with picking up a rag and rubbing it along the leather.

“I might be a poor country bumpkin, but I’ve heard enough to know that when a woman says, ‘you know what’s funny’ she’s not actually going to talk about something funny. It’s a trap.”

“I find it funny that I woke up and still knew how to walk and talk.” She’d not understood how much that meant to her until she realized everything else was missing.

“I don’t think I can be okay with trusting a God who let this happen to me, but I can appreciate that I didn’t have absolutely everything ripped away from me.

” It was the first time she’d voiced it, and the truth in it gave her that same warm feeling she’d experienced yesterday.

“See. Not funny.” He finished cleaning the bridle and hung it back on the peg behind him. “Some people would call that lucky. Others would say God’s looking out for you.”

“What do you say?” The need to have clarity about her situation threatened to become an obsession.

He swung off the saddle and held out his hand toward her. “Not falling for that one either. I can’t make up your mind for you. My opinion on the subject is pointless.”

“Is it?” She let him help her from the saddle and smoothed a hand over the seat. “Why doesn’t your opinion matter?”

“Because I have no idea what you’ve been through. I can empathize, but I’m not comfortable telling you how to move forward. What I said earlier was out of line. Your comfort zone is yours and I’m not going to push you to do anything.”

“I like when you challenge me.” She pointed at her damp jeans. “And I like working in the barn. But you should know that I’m pretty sure I’m not the kind of person who lets a prank go unpunished.”

He bent at the waist until their faces were inches apart. “Give it your best shot.”

She really did like it when he challenged her, and the way her entire body leaned toward him proved it. “You’d better make me get back to work. Otherwise, you’re going to be so far behind you’ll never catch up.” Moving away from him brought a rush of confusion and a swirl of disquiet.

“I need to work with a few of the younger horses. I’d planned on riding the fence line today to check for gaps.” He dipped his head toward the stalls. “If you were willing to ride, we could do that together. I have a horse you can ride.”

“I don’t remember anything about riding.”

“All you have to do is sit there.”

She ticked her finger back and forth like a metronome. “Oh no. I’m not falling for that one. I did learn that last night. There’s no such thing as just sitting there when riding.”

“Did some research?” He closed the door behind them and flipped the latch into place. The two pieces of wood scraped together with a harsh grinding. “What else did you learn?”

The horse he’d called Sasha nickered at them from her stall.

“Not enough to be comfortable in the saddle.” She scooped up a kitten when it tried to climb her leg. “And who are you?”

“That’s Jax.” Chase tickled the kitten under the chin. “His siblings are around here somewhere. Probably in the loft sleeping.”

“Resident mice catchers?” The kitten purred and she tucked him under her chin. “He’s adorable.”

“He’s spoiled. We brought his mom over from the feed store, and she surprised us with him and three others. Mom thinks they should be fed twice a day.” He tried to sound mean, but the way his eyes softened when he stroked the kitten ruined the effect.

“He’s just a baby.” She kissed the top of Jax’s head. “He’ll learn. Speaking of learning.” A deep breath stretched her lungs. “What if we started with you teaching me how to groom the horses? That’s helpful, isn’t it?”

“I can do that.” He checked his watch, then squinted toward the barn doors. “We can start now. I’ll ride out and check the fence another day.”

She bombarded him with questions while he brought one of the horses out of the stalls and clipped a long rope to a ring in the wall. She asked about ranching, how important it was to check the fences, and how many horses they had.

Chase’s patience never ran out. He paused sometimes before answering, but he never ignored her questions, even the ridiculous ones.

“How many horses have you owned in your life?”

“Just my personal horse or all the ranch horses?” He held out a brush with short, stiff bristles. “This one is good for when the horses have dried mud on them after going out and rolling.”

“Yours.” She took the brush and ran it back and forth over her arm. “It kind of tickles.”

He chose another brush and rubbed the horse’s red coat in small circles. Dirt and fine hairs rolled out beneath the rubber bristles. “There have been four that I’d call mine.”

“Tell me about them.” She loved hearing him talk. He made it easy to ask questions and not feel guilty or ridiculous for not already knowing the answer. “What’s this?” She picked up a U-shaped metal instrument with rubber handles on either end.

“That’s a sweat scraper. Also works when they’ve gone swimming or had a bath. Takes the water off quickly so they dry.” He switched to the horse’s other side by ducking underneath its neck. “Am I going to get to ask you questions?”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “But I won’t be able to answer ninety-nine percent of them unless they’re about the last six months.”

“What did you do for Christmas?” He’d ducked out of sight, which muffled his voice.

The mention of Christmas sawed out a humorless, grinding laugh. “I sat in front of a fake fire, drank eggnog, and stared out the window for half the day.”

“And the rest of the day?”

She fiddled with the horse’s mane, flipping it from one side of his neck to the other and combing her fingers through the rough strands.

“I watched sappy Christmas movies until I fell asleep on the couch.” A familiar burn worked up her throat.

“Do you know when was the last time I talked to Sarah before this? I searched my phone, my emails, everything that I could think of. I didn’t find anything recent.

Even my pictures on my phone are garbage shots of the city. ”

“How is this going to help?” He straightened and draped his arms over the horse’s back. “What if you’re beating yourself up over nothing.”

“I feel it.” She fisted a hand over her heart.

“I might not remember, but there’s a part deep down in here that knows something is wrong.

It tells me that losing my memory might be punishment for being a horrible human being.

I have this deep distrust of myself, like I’m disappointed but I don’t know why.

” She grabbed his hands. She’d taken off the gloves when they started working on grooming and the feel of dirt pressed between their fingers startled her.

“If you know why I feel this way, you need to tell me.”

“I don’t know what happened between you and Sarah. If you stopped talking to her, she hasn’t mentioned it to me.”

“She probably wouldn’t tell you. She’d talk to your mom about it.” Her top teeth worried her bottom lip. “I wonder if she’d tell me.” She said it absentmindedly, but Chase shook his head. “You don’t think she would?”

“I know she wouldn’t unless Sarah told her to.” He rubbed his thumbs back and forth over her knuckles. “Ask Sarah.”

“She says I’ll remember when I’m meant to remember, and I shouldn’t worry about it.

According to her, we drifted apart, but it was nothing that I did that was wrong.

” Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. It beat in time with her heart, a steady thump-thump that argued she had so much to make up for and no way to even know how or where to start.

Chase released her hands. “I think that’s enough for today. You can come back Monday.” He dismissed her casually, and the pain of it pierced her all the way through.

Where did the sudden hot/cold attitude come from?