Drown Her Sorrows (Bree Taggert #3) - Melinda Leigh Page 0,48

turned on the light. Three heads greeted her. Riot, Luke’s bay gelding, nickered and kicked his stall door. Pumpkin bobbed his head, begging for a scratch or a treat. The sturdy little horse was definitely spoiled. She scratched him under his flaxen forelock on her way by. She grabbed a brush and slipped into Cowboy’s stall. The paint was a calm, patient beast. He didn’t move as Bree swept the brush over his coat in long strokes. “Your white patches are looking dingy. Did you roll in the mud today?”

He shifted his weight. His eyelids drooped.

“Maybe it’ll be warm enough for a bath this weekend.” Bree worked on a crusted patch of dried mud on his rump. Cowboy had excellent ground manners. He was unflappable on the trail. He wasn’t fancy, but he was a sound, sensible horse all around. Bree hadn’t been on a horse since she was a kid, but when she rode Cowboy for the first time after her sister’s death, she felt safe. He—and the other two horses—had been slaughter-bound when Erin had pulled them from the kill buyer’s pen. Bree stopped brushing and rested her forehead on Cowboy’s neck. “She loved you, you know. Erin was one of the kindest people I knew.”

Cowboy wrapped his neck around Bree.

She laughed. “I know you’re just checking my pocket for treats, but I’m going to pretend this is a hug.”

The horse dropped his head and picked at his hay.

Bree gave his shoulder a rub before leaving his stall, her heart just a little lighter. On the way to the house, she shook off her grief. Tonight, she would enjoy her family and savor the bonds forming between them. Shannon Phelps’s sorrow was a reminder that happiness could be ripped out from under one’s feet at any time. Nothing should be taken for granted. Every moment of happiness was a gift to be appreciated.

Guilt prodded her. She owed her brother an apology. He’d asked one thing of her since she’d moved back to Grey’s Hollow: to go with him to the old Taggert place, the house where their father had shot their mother and then himself. And Bree had been putting it off for months, while Adam had done everything she’d asked of him.

Bree walked in the door, shed her boots, and braced herself for Ladybug’s greeting. The big dog galloped over and slid on the tile. Bree caught the ungainly mutt before she slammed into the wall. Unfazed, the dog wagged her tail stump and snorted like a pig as Bree rubbed her ribs with both hands.

Kayla waited until the dog bounced away, then moved in for a hug. Bree kissed her on the top of her head. She went to the table and did the same to Luke. On the outside, he seemed to tolerate her affection, but she knew that deep down, he needed it. Though Bree often felt like she floundered in her new parenting role, she was the best person for the job. She knew better than anyone else what it was like to live with the kind of sorrow Kayla and Luke had experienced.

And she was determined to do right by them. They would not be cast off, isolated, and further damaged as she had been.

Releasing Luke, Bree gave her brother a peck on the cheek. Adam wore ripped jeans and a faded old T-shirt, both liberally streaked with paint. He was a very successful artist, but you’d never know it from his clothes. He had no interest in fancy anything. He’d driven the same ancient Ford Bronco for decades and lived in a converted barn he’d purchased solely for the light. Instead, he’d spent his money on Erin and her kids. He’d bought and maintained the farm Erin had wanted but never could have afforded on her income as a hairstylist. In that way, Adam had been a better sibling than Bree. But then, he and Erin had grown up together. They’d had a bond that Bree had been shut out of.

Which also meant he’d probably felt Erin’s loss more acutely than Bree, something she had never considered before. Life was all about learning, she supposed. But she needed to learn faster. Some lessons always felt as if they came too late.

“Wash up. Dinner’s almost ready.” Dana slid two homemade pizzas out of the oven. She took a cutter from the drawer and rolled it across the pies like a pro.

Bree crossed to the sink and washed her hands. She glanced at

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