The Rancher's Wife. April Arrington
okay?” Logan reached for her injured hand.
“I’m fine,” she choked.
She drew her throbbing fingers to her chest, cradling them and gritting her teeth.
“Let me see.” Logan’s brow creased and he tugged at her wrist.
“It’s fine,” she bit out, stifling a grimace. “He skimmed me.”
The kicking stopped. Amy glanced up as the strong pull and push of Thunder’s heaving breaths grew close. His broad head appeared against the bars. A savage scar stretched across his chiseled face and down his muscular neck. Amy winced at his glare, the whites of his eyes stark against the wide and wild depths of his pupils.
“He’s been through a lot,” Logan said. “It’s changed him. In the beginning, I thought there was still a chance I could bring him around. But I lost his trust along the way. I’m out of options. I have to put him down.”
“No,” she whispered.
Thunder’s lips drew back and he cried, the sharp sound screeching through the air and splitting her ears. He slammed his front hooves against the door then jerked away to pace the stall, his pained cries turning fierce.
Amy’s legs shook. She bent carefully to gather up the contents of her purse. Shoving the scattered items back inside, she caught sight of the bundle of crumpled divorce papers. She snatched them up and drove them deep into her purse.
Metal clanked as Thunder dove forward and butted the stall door with his head. Eyes flaring, he fixed his gaze to hers and stared deep, tearing past the layers of her polished appearance and creeping beneath her skin. He jerked his head, screaming louder and kicking harder.
Amy choked back a sob and shoved to her feet. Logan was right. Thunder wasn’t the same. But to consider ending his life...
“You can’t put him down, Logan,” she said, turning away and stumbling on the loose heel of her shoe. “Not without giving him a fair shot.”
Logan held her arms and steadied her. “I have. Nothing has worked. He’s a danger to himself and the other horses and he’s especially aggressive around the boys. There’s not one single rehabilitation outfit willing to relocate him after laying eyes on him.” He sighed. “I can’t, in good conscience, allow him to exist in fear and isolation with no quality of life. I’m sorry. There’s nothing else that can be done.”
Amy ducked her burning face. “That’s not true,” she said, pushing past him. “There’s always a way.”
The urge to return to Thunder was strong. To stay at his side, try to coax his spirit back and give him a fighting chance. But that would mean staying. And it was time to move on.
She dragged her purse strap back onto her shoulder and brushed at her clothes. But even though the creases in the material released, the guilt remained. It clung to her skin and clogged her throat, suffocating her. Just as it had every day for the past four years.
Her steps slowed, legs stilling of their own accord. She cast one last look at Thunder’s violent attack on the stall. “Surely, there’s something you can d—”
Thunder’s screech overtook her voice, the words dying on her lips.
“He fought hard to survive, Amy.” Logan’s expression turned grim, his thumb spinning the ring on his finger. “But, sometimes, that’s just not enough.”
She spun, taking swift strides out of the stable and away from the stallion’s broken state. She’d worked hard to survive, too. And she couldn’t gamble the new life she’d fought for to recapture a past full of failures and sins.
Logan’s eyes bored into her back. Amy hurried up the hill, thighs burning. Thunder’s painful cries lingered on the air, hovering around her and haunting the path to the main house.
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