Addie needed this ride; she had known that when she woke up this morning. The sun had peeked through her curtains and her first thought had been that she needed to get to the stables. Fate had been on her mind over the last few days, especially with her last run in with Alex. It was impossible to ignore the coincidence again today. Her first thought, before even knowing that the weather was going to be this nice, had been to go to the stables and when she showed up, Alex had been there. That wasnât coincidence. Something was pushing her toward him and likewise, something was pushing him toward her. There was no denying it. Â
The air was crisp but warmer than she had expected being up on a cantering horse. She wasnât technically supposed to gallop the trail horses but she was pushing the horse as fast as she could without breaking the trail rules. It was a safely concern, especially during the winter. There wasnât snow on the ground but the ice was a concern. When the thought of ice popped into her head, she slowed the pace even more, knowing that if the horse slipped, she could be hurt, too. The mare she had dressed for the ride was responsive and probably wouldâve slowed down on her own accord fairly soon anyway; they were coming around a curve that usually took them into a trot.Â
A half an hour later and she was nearly finished with the route. Another ten minutes and sheâd be back at the stables. As the thought of seeing Alex again didnât have her stutter this time; she would be fine. Why she had gotten so worked up to begin with was beyond her. Sure, he had heard the thoughts in her head but plenty of people had to have had those exact same thoughts about him. While telling herself she was overthinking, again, she didnât notice the fox that ran across the dirt path but her mare certainly did. The horse reared up and Addie tried her best to hold on. She wasnât able to keep her hands from slipping off the reigns. When the horse reared again, she fell in a very gangly fashion, landing on the ground on the right side of the oath but not before her arm crashed into a pile of rocks on the ground, her forehead hitting the same patch of rocks. The horse skittered forward and pounded at the dirt as she tried to reorient herself.
She was dizzy, beyond anything she could remember, and she couldnât move her left arm. She managed to shift enough to move her uninjured arm to her fore head. When her fingers found her forehead, the stinging was unbearable and she immediately pulled her fingers from it. Taking a deep breath, her line of vision shrunk. Tunnel vision. She knew what was about to happen and she managed to avoid the small outcropping of rocks as she fell, slipping out of consciousness.Â
Her eyes flickered open, just barely, and she saw the backend of the horse. She was nibbling on grass along the pathway. How long had she been out? Had she even been out? Before she could even push herself up, she was out again, her hair falling into her face as she slipped away again.
There wasnât much left to do. Alex should have left as soon as he finished in the barn, but he found himself puttering instead. He found unnecessary things to do, rearranging one of the stacks, walking the near grounds and picking up any scattered trash, pulling weeds from the small garden. He knew he should leave before Addie got back, but the weaker part of him wanted to see her one more time while he had the opportunity. After all, he told himself every time that it would be the last time he saw her, so he wanted to prolong it.Â
He kept an eye on the time, too. He knew the time it took to run each trail, he had spent enough time there to seeing the coming and going of enough people. He had learned how much time each one took, without really even trying to. Which meant he knew when the time dragged too long and his eyes stayed on the empty exit of the trail. Every second that passed, he told himself that she could have stopped somewhere. She could be taking it slow. She might have decided to sit down for a while and avoid coming back. There were a thousand logical conclusions to how long it was taking, but it did not stop the string attached to his rib-cage from tugging at him, telling him something was wrong.Â
He shut his eyes. Clairvoyance was not a gift he often used; the one thing that was not out of his control since the accident. It came and went, occasional images, flashes of future or possible futures on his eyelids. He rarely sought it out, because the future was a dangerous thing to know. But now he found himself seeking out one person in particular with it, mind falling along the well known trail he had taken. He flew along it finding nothing, nothing, then. A riderless horse. He recognized it as the one that Addie had taken. It took only a glimpse of dark hair before his eyes were open again and he walking. No, he was running. He couldnât remember the last time he had truly ran, but he stretched his legs to their limit, racing towards the exit of the trail.Â
It was a solid five minutes of dead sprint later that he came to a skidding, panting halt at Addieâs side. Black spots danced in his vision. She was dead. Blood spilled everywhere and the world around him dimmed to black and white. He was burning, everything was burning hot and he couldnât breathe for the stench of blood. He was gasping at desperate intakes of breath, but none of them seemed to be drawing oxygen to his blood. There was too much death in the air, screaming and gunshots in his head.Â
No. It was a breathing body in front of him. A breathing, bleeding body. He reached for his medical bag but his hand came up empty. His hand came up bloody. No, no. There was no blood there, not yet. There was blood on Addieâs head, and he tore off the flannel shirt he was wearing to press against her hair, trying to remind himself that a head injury did not have to be fatal. They bled so much, but that did not mean the same thing as dead. A familiar twisting sensation coiled in his gut and he bit down on his lip until he tasted blood because he could not throw up here. She wasnât dead yet. He had to keep repeating that to himself, he would not allow himself to fall into the past, not now.Â
Somewhere inside of him, the doctor clicked into place. He couldnât be Alex at the moment, he had to be something else. âAddie, Addie, I need you to wake up.â He couldnât see any other injuries, and he hoped there was nothing hidden. He didnât dare to move her until she was awake. He laid a hand against her face, eyes shutting and grimacing at what he had to do. He delved into her mind, reaching out to drag her back into the waking world.Â












