Safely Home by Ruth Logan Herne

Author:Ruth Logan Herne [Herne, Ruth Logan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Christian Books & Bibles, Literature & Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Women's Fiction, Contemporary Women, Religion & Spirituality, Fiction, Contemporary Fiction, Religious & Inspirational Fiction, Christian, Humor, Christianity, Christian Fiction
Amazon: B00IDEQW9I
Publisher: Ruth Logan Herne
Published: 2014-02-10T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Brandywood whickered softly as she entered the barnyard the following Sunday. He tilted his head once, eyed her, then headed her way, boldly nudging the two ladies aside as if to stake his claim on Cress.

“Nice improvement,” Audra noted from the rail.

Cress nodded, voice easy, keeping eye contact with the gelding. “Very nice. Although he likes Alex better.”

“Better than you or better than you like Alex?”

Cress stayed silent.

“Aha.”

“Enough with the ‘aha’s. Seriously. Give it a rest.”

“Oh I have been,” Audra countered. She eased a leg up and over, then perched on the top rail as Cress courted the horse into submission. “You have no idea how much I haven’t been saying. And your leg seems better, by the way.”

“It is. Much.”

“But that’s a problem, isn’t it?”

Cress sighed as she crooned senseless words of love to the horse who ate them up like lumps of sugar. “Why do you know so much?”

“Lucky, I guess. What are your options?”

“Go. Stay.”

“Stay.”

Cress smiled against the horse’s neck. “I wish it was that easy.”

“It is that easy. You make things difficult.”

Funny, she’d thought the same thing that morning, sitting in church, listening to their sweet pastor talk of simple things. Simple gifts. Simple choices.

The words spoke to her, a comfort. A blessing.

But then life intervened and she got confused all over again. Why?

She had no idea.

James’ cryptic message about Carl was part of it. After receiving his morning e-mail, she’d set up a block so he couldn’t get through, a move she should have made weeks ago.

Why hadn’t she?

And that’s where the complications set in. He wasn’t just her old lover, the other part of a bad relationship turned abusive.

He was her commander, her boss. Her dedication to her job, to her partner made sorting through his separate roles rough.

Only because you let it.

The inner voice tweaked her, drawing her back to Pastor Gates’ gentle words, his advice about finding a quiet center, a place of peaceful satisfaction. The whole take-time-to-smell-the-roses thing.

Cress had never had a quiet center. Not once. Not ever.

Why?

No clue.

Now she yearned for one, but at what cost? Her career?

Already tanked.

Her life in Minneapolis?

Guttered. Sullied. Soiled. Take your pick.

Audra’s rooster picked that moment to crow, heralding the mid-day much like he did the morning.

Day followed day.

Night followed night.

The old bird crowed, regardless.

Maybe it was a birdbrain notion, but perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps it was something as simple as trusting the day to follow night in a simpler way.

The young gelding pushed his cheek into her hand, wondering why she’d stopped rubbing. She smiled and continued the ministrations to his neck, his flank, murmuring words of love.

When had she last felt this peaceful, this calm?

Early visions swam up, filling her head with a younger Cress, headstrong and assertive, riding the hills carefree and able, preferring the company of horses and trees to people.

Why was that? What made her feel left out? Sidelined? Her mother’s death. Her father’s decline into an alcohol-induced stupor. And by the time he climbed out

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