“You know then how fast we have to run those horses around the arena.”
“It’s breathtaking. I could never do it in such a small space.”
“I think that’s what most people find so compelling about the performance. I mean, horses running in circles and doing figure eights is pretty awesome, wow, so what? But when in such a small circle, it creates a pretty cool effect.”
“And that’s what you guys were doing when it happened? The circling and figure eight part?”
“Yeah. So… God, Daisy—” He stretched his legs out and rested his weight on his elbow, looking overhead as his voice cracked with obvious emotion. “Just a normal show. We’d been practicing that formation dozens of times, all of us. That exact combination and order. Rushing and riding, all but flying, and we were always in total control.”
“What was the noise that ruined everything?”
“Gunshot. They’re still investigating it, of course. Perhaps it was an accidental discharge. But it killed a guy. What do you do with that? That ominous sound inside the metal building naturally echoed, and the horses were already flying high on adrenaline, so it didn’t take much to set them all off. It could have been any of us. For a split second, I lost control and I’m sure the others would say the same. Only Wallace darted toward the wall. I was lucky to be further back from it than Preston. When Wallace veered off, Preston shot forward as if a cannon blasted him right into the wall.”
She shuddered. All these details were familiar to her but only in abstract images. Asher’s version was so much more descriptive. Pointed. Harsh.
“He flopped down like a rag-doll. I knew he was dead before he hit the ground. I saw it. The moment he died, I’m sure of it. His eyes were filled with life. Then the light, or whatever the soul is, vanished. I saw the passing of life before and after in a split second. I’ve never experienced something like that. But now it haunts me.”
“Oh, God, Asher.” No, it was not very articulate or original, but Daisy didn’t know what else to say.
“Yeah, oh, God is right. Then Violet responded. She fell onto him in the most pathetic, desperate, needy, sad, emotional outpouring I’ve ever witnessed. There was no way to watch her without crying. I’m sure we all did. I tried to watch but couldn’t, so I half-averted my gaze. I wasn’t strong enough to stomach what happened. Tears instantly filled my eyes listening to her sobbing. It was horrifying. Her endless pleas to Preston to be okay. Her disbelief at what happened. Then Jack told her as kindly but clearly as he could, that Preston was dead. Damn. I had so much respect for him in that moment. It took nerves of steel to tell her the truth, and I’m not sure I could have gotten the words out of my mouth at that point. Anyway, he told her the only decent way he could that her dearest loved one was dead. She didn’t believe it. She cried and begged and pleaded all over again, urging him to do something to fix Preston. It was a wail unlike anything I could describe or compare it to. I wanted to hand my heart to her, just to keep hers from breaking. And I swear, I could hear it breaking right before me. My friend. My dear friend.”
Silence finished his story. Daisy had no words. Tears fell as the pressure returned to her eyes and throat. So many tears were shed for her sister, but also, for Asher. The story he told her was far worse than her imagination allowed her to picture. Glancing over, she realized Asher had tears on his cheeks. He shook his head and rubbed them off.
She sniffed as she wiped her own away. “Let me guess, it didn’t help? Telling me this didn’t make you feel better? I—I tried to imagine what happened to you guys, but I don’t think I got it right. Thank you for telling me, Asher, in spite of what it did to you.”
He tossed her a wan smile. “Actually, it kind of did help me. I mean, I guess it’s a long process, but it relieved a little bit of stress and pressure as I try to make sense of it. Right now? It’s still overwhelming. You want to know the hardest part?”
“What?”
“I feel guilty for being alive. Why wasn’t it me that got thrown? I don’t have a Violet in my life whose heart would be so broken.”
“I think that’s completely valid. I suppose Violet is wondering the same thing. I feel guilty for not feeling the pain that she is,” Daisy added in her effort to give him comfort and confess her own guilt.
“Yeah, I get that,” he said softly. They finished their drinks and he opened another.
Leaning back, he finally said, “Tell me something that isn’t about death or dying young. No more grief and survivor guilt. Tell me something new and hopeful.”
She snorted. “How do I do that?”
“Try. Please. You’re the one that lives across the country from all this. You’ve gotta have something new and different we can talk about.”
“Okay. The planet is melting. Not everyone can afford the basics, things like food. Lack of healthcare in the US sometimes prevents people from getting critical treatment. The world is completely politically polarized with no end in sight, made worse by all the expansive and intrusive social media outlets. Conspiracy theories are now the norm instead of lying on the fringe. There are enough nuclear warheads to destroy life on earth a hundred times over. There are pedophiles registered everywhere. This state has thousands of untested rape kids and that means all the rapists got away with it and are walking free. Should I continue?”
He sat up and shoved her shoulder. “That is your best attempt at being hopeful? Good God, you’re awful at cheering someone up.”
She gave him an evil-eyed glare before she calmly continued, “Just explaining why you should not feel guilty for being alive. If that were the case, we would all feel guilty, all of the time. Things are never equal or okay, not all at once. There’s always something unfair going on. The factors of chance and the unexplained always enter every equation. You were all there together and yet, Preston still died, leaving the rest of you mystified. It is the ordinary response after witnessing a brief but shocking moment. In a split second, it could have gone either way, and no long-term consequences would have ensued.”
He shoulder-bumped her and replied, “Oh. That was actually pretty profound, and it means a lot to me. How you managed to bring that around to shit happens was seriously impressive.”
She gave him a nod. “Yeah, in summary. Shit happens. Life sucks. Grab it while you can and all that. At least Violet did that. She did that with Preston and her horses. And her love of both of them. I hope this doesn’t stop that.”
“She did seize the day.” He drank another bottle and tossed the empty one aside. “In the end, it made me take that message to heart. I think I’m ready to like… do something big.”
“Something big? Like what?” Her heart swelled with longing. What if? What if he was ready to notice her? Right there as always. What if he wanted to experience a bond like Preston and Violet had? What if—
“Like starting my own ranch.”
She turned her head to stare at him after his words finally registered. Starting your own ranch? “Don’t we already live on a ranch?”
“We do. But I want to own a ranch. I want to have some cattle and horses. Something that I control. Mine. Honestly? It will be more my parents then my own, but I’ll do the work. I wish it could be tens of thousands of acres, but there is no way we can buy into something like that. I’m going to pretend it’s the start of what someday will be a large Reed Ranch. It’ll probably always be what I do after I work for the Rydells, but at least I’ll have something that is mine and the hope that someday I can break off to be fully on my own.”