the words of memphis' retirement go in one ear and out the other. savannah has known guys like him her entire life, a lot of them have to be injured beyond the point of return or they'll ride until their bones break from the pressure. she doesn't really know what his plan or timeline is, but she figures right now it isn't her place to push on that so she just lets it go. but then he mentions leaving and she tastes something sour in the back of her throat. is that her business? they're, at the very least, friends so... yeah, of course it is, right? but then they're not really just friends — but they're anything more than that either so maybe she shouldn't push it. fuck, this whole thing is becoming a lot more complicated than savannah had anticipated the first night they'd fallen into bed together. she tucks that little comment away, plans to ignore it though she knows it's going to eat at her and boil over before long.
"who owns her now?" she asks, genuinely curious. "ya could always bring her back over here when you're gone — your friends'd take care of her." but she shrugs because it's his choice. maybe he doesn't want anything back home tying him down to sweetwater while he's on the road. or maybe savannah should stop feeling a kinship with a horse. she takes a step back, lets memphis start saddling the mare up and she hops up to sit on an empty saddle rack and watch him. while she may be comfortable around livestock, her one on one experience is generally limited. she'd have no idea what she was doing. plus, he looks good so she is more than happy to watch him work.
she shrugs at his question, a little metaphorical cloud moving over her head. "everything in town's kinda a mess right now," she says, legs swinging. "y'hear about coach?" her lips purse and savannah tries to push down the sad feeling that churns in her stomach. she's not supposed to be like that — savannah is the fun friend. the party girl. she's very aware of the role that she plays in society and she isn't supposed feel some type of way when it comes to things like this. that'd been why she had come out to the ranch in the first place. when all the dust and rumours had settled and the reality of coach brown being dead had really sunk in, savannah felt a bone deep sadness that she didn't want to acknowledge because all it would do is trigger that grief she's been carrying around since the day she was born for her mother. so she'd come out here, knowing memphis always brings her to a better place. "i feel for his wife. they were high school sweethearts." just like her parents had been before she killed her mother. "i dunno how a person comes back from that."
Much like the lamb that Savannah found herself attached to, Memphis has taken a liking to the old mare, his eyes feeling a little dust-filled when he thinks about the day the old girl has to head to the pasture in the sky. And while he can feel his mother rolling in the grave thinking that something like a horse has a soul and, therefore, has an afterlife (her Christian roots say otherwise), if he still actually prayed, he'd ask for that. Still, he knows if he buys that pretty mare with the gray coat and the bits of black still trying to poke through, he's only setting himself up for disaster. "Ranch owns her for now, but they don't spoil her like I do," he says, a sad grin to the horse, keeping his face turned away from Sav. Giving the horse a quick pat, he moves her as she leads the way through the gallery.
Memphis' mouth flattens at the slight change in Savannah's demeanor. He knows he can't keep reading her moods or clinging to those little smiles and laughs. He's supposed to be just the guy that parties with her and falls into bed with her, but he's really fucking that up for himself. Memphis is constantly wondering when he takes their friends with benefits too far and fucks shit up or scares Savannah away. "'m sorry to hear that," he says, letting the mare sniff the air as she moves through the enclosed arena. Memphis' hand brushes over Savannah's arm, his fingers feeling the zap that comes from touching her. "That's-- God, that's fucked up," he adds. Memphis' hand finds hers before he gives her fingers a small squeeze, just letting her know that he was there.
Since his parents' car accident that took them both, he felt a little thankful that they went together. Instances where he saw wives left without their husbands or husbands yearning for their wives set in his stomach like a storm-ridden ocean, churning. "My mom always said that the other times would make it worth it," he starts. "Like the times when they were alive and spending time with you. That the memories were worth it, ya know? But I never really-- I didn't believe her until later." Later being when his parents died, and all he had left were the memories of his childhood. Some were happy, and some were sad, but yeah, he thought they were worth the pain that still lingered today. "Did you know him well?" he asks, worry coating his features.















