Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 83(@200wpm)___ 66(@250wpm)___ 55(@300wpm)
Before I have a chance to change my mind.
CHAPTER 6
Riley
Idon’t know how much further we’ve got to the Granger family home, but I know I can’t let Wyatt turn his back on this until he’s had a chance to bid farewell to his mother.
His hand has not moved from mine since the second we stepped out of the saloon, his fingers locked around my own like he never intends to let go.
I know how he feels.
The drawn look on his brother’s face when he told him the news, the weight in the air as he took it in, it’s more than either of us can ignore.
And I am glad that he is not going to put up a fight on the matter.
Not like I did.
The day I lost my mother, the woman who raised me all by herself, I had been across the country – she'd called me and told me that they were taking her in to the hospital overnight just to keep an eye on her, and that I didn’t need to come home to check on her.
I’ll be fine, she’d told me, and even then, I had recognized the artificial confidence in her voice.
I should have gone to be with her then, but I couldn’t, I just couldn’t. I felt like, if I acknowledged how serious it was, I would just make things worse.
And then, she was gone. If it hadn’t been for the yoga studio, I would have lost my mind entirely, relying on it for what little structure I could cling on in the months following her death.
That had been two years ago now, but to this day, the sting of it, the knowledge that she went out alone, plagues me more than I’d care to admit.
I won’t let him carry the same burden. No matter what has happened between his family and him, he deserves to have a chance to see her off, to say goodbye.
The house finally appears on the horizon ahead of us, a large wooden building on the top of a hill, uneven roof sloping up towards the graying evening sky. I glance at Wyatt out of the corner of my eye as Cade strides out wordlessly ahead of us.
I try to read his expression, but he seems determined not to let me see it. Whatever’s going on inside his head, he doesn’t want to share it, and I can’t blame him.
The door flies open before we reach it, and a woman stands there before us – around my age, maybe a little younger, with blonde ringlets that reach her shoulders and wide blue eyes that look consumed by panic.
She is gasping for air by the time we reach her, so much so that, for a second, I think she must be the one suffering. I drop Wyatt’s hand and rush to her side.
"Are you alright?" I murmur, as she slumps against me, her chest heaving. She shakes her head.
"I feel as though I can’t catch a breath," she forces out, even though I can tell she’s struggling to so much as talk. "Momma’s upstairs, Cade, and she’s-"
"Hey, take a second," I insist, as I guide her into the house. I can tell from the clamminess on her face and the stuttered nature of her breath that she’s having some kind of panic attack.
"Lucy-" Wyatt begins, and Cade catches his arm.
"She’s been like this all morning, she’ll be okay," he assures him. "You need to see Mom. She’s not got much time left..."
Cade eyes Lucy for a moment, and I squeeze his arm slightly.
"I’ve got this," I murmur to him. "Go, Wyatt. Go."
He pauses, but then, seemingly sensing no better way to handle any of this, he makes for the crooked stairs that lead to the second floor of the house. I turn my attention to Lucy, steering her in the direction of a wooden seat next to the door.
"Here, sit down," I tell her softly, as I kneel down at her feet, looking up at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes red with tears, and she tries to heave in another breath but fails.
"I don’t know what’s happening to me," she whimpers in a panic. "I – it's not the same thing Momma’s got, it’s just-"
"You just need to breathe," I assure her. "I know it feels hard right now, but it’s just a panic attack."
She scrunches her forehead at me.
"A panic...?”
"A rush of the vapors," I correct myself, trying to find something that might pass for sense in this world. "Here, put your hands on your knees and lean over, get some blood to your head..."
I guide her for a few minutes, talking her through the breathing exercises that I usually used to help people wind down before we dove into a yoga session. It took a good few minutes, but I manage to get her to draw in a few real breaths, and by the time she lifts her head once more, I can tell that some of the weight has begun to lift from her shoulders. Her cheeks are still teary and stained, but she looks a little less distant now, a little more settled.