I wanted to remind readers that this story follows the Heartland books, not the Heartland TV show. In the first special edition book, Beyond the Horizon, Amy and Ty do break up. This chapter deals with the immediate after-effects of their breakup. If you don't want to read about that, you might not want to read this chapter. Amy and Ty are endgame for me, but to be honest, I'm not sure how I'm going to write them getting back together. I have a baby now and so I don't have much time to write. But I will keep thinking about this story and hopefully write a lovely reunion one day!

Part 2: In-Between

Chapter 17

March 17, 2009

Amy came back from her trip to see Will—her trip to save the horse—her trip to save the horse with Will, who'd told her about the horse who'd been attacked by a cougar and was now wild with fear and might be put down if she couldn't help him—and broke up with Ty.

She said things felt different now, and he agreed because that's what she needed him to do (and, deep down, beneath the sharp pain of his loss, he knew she was right). They were one week away from what would have been their third anniversary.

Although they were just friends now, it felt so right when Ty put his arms around her again as she started to cry. Amy didn't know how long she cried, but he held her until her tears were spent.

Once she stepped back, she sniffed and smeared a hand beneath her eyes before looking up at Ty.

"You going to be okay?" With that question, and the familiar expression of concern in his eyes, he was more like himself—more like the Ty she knew—than he had been all week.

"Yeah." She felt exhaustion and sadness seeping through her, but suddenly she felt like she could talk to him, and she had to. "Ty, I need to tell you something."

He nodded. "Okay."

"Do you remember the other night, when I said Grandpa called to see if I needed a ride home from that restaurant—Jefferson's?" She fiddled with the ring he'd said she could keep. "It wasn't Grandpa who called. It was Will. He was just calling to see how break was going."

She looked down at the ground and turned the ring around and around on her finger. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was afraid that you would be angry, and things were already weird between us, and I'm sorry." Suddenly she realized she'd started crying again.

"Hey." Ty gripped her shoulder. "Look, Amy, you couldn't have done anything that would've made this turn out differently, okay?" She made herself look up at him and saw him stare briefly into space, scowling slightly. His mouth tightened for a moment before he said, "I'm sorry you didn't feel like you could tell me that."

She shrugged and watched as he folded his arms, took a breath, and hesitated. She knew he was measuring his words, reconfiguring a sentence until it would have exactly the right effect.

"Not that it really matters, but . . . did anything happen between the two of you while you were gone?" His eyes flickered to the ground.

He'd tried to be as nice as possible, both in words and in tone, but that didn't stop the flash of pain that Amy felt simply from the question. "No!" She crossed her arms against the ache in her chest and shook her head. "I wouldn't do something like that." The tears in her eyes burned now.

Ty was nodding quickly. "Okay. Okay. I know."

"No, you don't," she said, voice hoarse but vehement. "If you did, you wouldn't have asked me."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

Just as suddenly as it had flared up, Amy felt her anger drain away. She closed her eyes briefly and drew in a breath. "I shouldn't have yelled like that."

"It's all right." Ty sighed and picked up the buckets he'd set down what felt like a lifetime ago. "Hey, you must be tired. I can finish up everything here if you want to unpack and rest."

Amy nodded and turned to head back up to the house. She felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of her body, but she forced herself to walk. She heard Ty behind her, opening stall doors and collecting empty buckets.

She only made it to the doorway of the barn. Even though part of her said it didn't even matter, another, louder part of her couldn't leave things like that. Swallowing hard, she hugged her arms across her chest and turned around. "Ty?"

He peered out over Sundance's door.

"I am sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. You're doing what you need to do."

I didn't know it would be this hard. Amy drew in a breath and let it out as a jagged sigh. "I know." She raised her eyes to his. "Thank you."

Ty nodded and gave her a half-smile, and she trudged up the path to the house, wondering if she'd lost the best thing that had ever happened to her.

After unpacking her clothes from the trip to Arizona, repacking for the trip back to Virginia Tech, and intermittently crying, Amy could barely drag herself to her bed. She flopped down onto it, managed to work off both her shoes and let them fall to the ground, and curled onto her side. She let her stinging eyes fall shut, but the action served only to allow the questions that had been circling above the fuzzy clouds of exhaustion in her mind to break through.

Why could I tell him the truth now? Why not then? And would it have made things turn out differently after all?

Why were things almost normal when they weren't normal the entire week? Why were we normal now? She could still see the concern in his eyes and the half-smile on his face—could feel his arms around her and his hand on her shoulder: things that had become hers in the past three years.

She squeezed her already-shut eyes against the tears that pressed against the lids. She couldn't deal with the answers to those questions right now. She wasn't even sure she had the answers to those questions right now.

Somebody knocked at the door. "Amy?" Grandpa called softly.

How am I supposed to tell people we broke up?

She lay perfectly still and tried to steady her breathing, grateful that she was facing the wall so that she wouldn't have to wipe away the tears trailing sideways down her face and onto the duvet.

She heard the door swishing open and the floor creaking. After the door whispered shut, Amy let out a breath. She curled her legs up more tightly and begged for sleep.

As he mixed and poured feeds, gave them to the horses, and put the buckets away, Ty managed to talk himself out of mentally yelling at himself and into being mostly fine.

Why didn't I believe her when she said Will was just a friend? I shouldn't have made her feel like she couldn't talk to me about him. He felt his mouth tighten as he refilled Sundance's water bucket. There's no point in thinking about what I should have done. It wouldn't have changed anything.

He hung the bucket on the hook in the stall and absently patted Sundance's shoulder. But I really should have talked things through with her. I should have made us talk about whatever was going on, even if it led to an argument.

Yeah, well, I didn't. Look, it doesn't matter now. Besides, she needs this so that she can find everything that's in that big old world I told her was out there. And I can still be there for her, just like I said I'd always be.

He carried the now-empty bucket back to the feed room. She might not need me to be there for her anymore.

Look, if she does, I will. If she doesn't, that's all right, too. He set the bucket on the cobblestone floor with a clunk. I'll get over this eventually.

He was reasonably sure that his face matched his now-composed thoughts as he walked up the driveway to the farmhouse, but he still stopped on the porch to draw a deep breath before pushing open the door.

Jack was alone in the kitchen, standing at the stove and stirring pasta in a frothy pot of boiling water. "You staying for dinner?"

"No, thanks, Jack. I'm playing chauffeur for the next few days, remember? I have to pick up Mom from work tonight."

Jack pulled a jar of homemade tomato sauce from the pantry. "And take her to work in the morning."

Ty nodded. "I guess Amy will have left by the time I get here?" To his own ears, his voice sounded convincingly disappointed.

"She's got to be at the bus stop by eight." Jack poured the sauce into a pan. "You can go say goodbye to her now if you want. She was sleeping last I checked, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you woke her up."

"No, that's all right. She came by the barn earlier, and she was really tired. She needs her rest."

When Jack set a lid over the pan of spitting tomato sauce and looked at him keenly, Ty knew he'd lost. He would find out eventually anyway. Besides, Amy had a hard enough time telling people we were dating. This will save her from having to tell at least one person that we're not.

The inevitable question came two seconds later. "Everything all right with you two?"

Ty looked him straight in the face. "We broke up today."

Jack blinked once and went back to stirring the noodles. After a moment, he asked, "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Ty sighed. "Maybe tomorrow. I need to pick Mom up." Maybe tomorrow he could actually give Jack an answer about what, exactly, happened. If he could even figure it out.

Jack nodded and switched off the burners beneath the noodles and sauce. "I'll let you go, but I do have to say that I'm sorry to hear it."

"It's for the best. She's got a lot ahead of her, you know?"

"I know she does. But that does not mean I can't feel bad for you."

"I'm fine, Jack, really. I just want to do whatever's best for her." Ty began backing toward the door.

"Whatever happened between you two today, I have to say I don't recommend leaving without giving her a goodbye before she has to head back to school." That thoughtful look in Jack's eyes was a dead giveaway that he hadn't said what he really wanted to say.

"I'll call her tomorrow afternoon." Ty looked Jack in the face again. "Could you tell her why I left tonight and why I'm not going to be there in the morning? I don't want her to think it's because of the—because of what happened."

A knowing expression replaced the thoughtfulness in Jack's eyes, but he slowly bobbed his head. "I'll tell her you had to drive your mom."

"Thanks, Jack."

After stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind him, Ty sighed and swallowed the tightness in his throat. It's for the best, he reminded himself, walking to his truck. If he told himself that enough times, he was sure he'd believe it.

On the bus on the way back to Virginia Tech, Amy leaned her forehead against the chilly windowpane and shut her eyes. She'd slept through dinner the evening before but hadn't gotten much sleep the rest of the night. Instead, she'd tried to catch up on homework by the light of her desk lamp.

She couldn't sleep now, either. The bus was nearly full, though she'd managed to get a seat by herself. Music buzzed from the earbuds of the blonde teenage boy sitting across the aisle, and the bus's brakes wheezed at every stop.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out and swiped the screen. Soraya had texted her. She shifted on the stiff leather of the bus seat and tapped the message icon.

U don't have 2 tell me what happened. I already kno & I don't want 2 hear abt it.

Amy blinked at the screen. What is she talking about? She blinked again as it clicked in her mind. How did she find out?

She tapped the keyboard. How did u know?

I could tell. What happened?

Amy grinned wryly. I thought u said u didn't want to know

:p I mean how. Did u have a fight?

Amy looked out the window, remembering. The ache in her chest was still there, but it was much lighter than it had been yesterday. She narrowed her eyes, recalling the way she'd yelled at Ty. She'd been exhausted; it was no wonder that she'd overreacted.

No. We just talked and agree that this is what's best for right now

4 right now? So my faith in true love may B restored someday?

Amy breathed a laugh. She pushed aside the temptation to contemplate the possibilities but tapped back Maybe :p.If the past week—and the past several months—had taught her anything, it was that she never knew what could happen.

I bet ur glad 2 B going back 2 VA Tech. U will have some space.

Actually I didn't see him much. I slept for hours yesterday & this morning he had to drive his mom somewhere

Amy twisted the Claddagh ring, with its heart and tiny crown now facing outward, around her finger. The sign for Blacksburg whizzed past, and she felt herself smile. She tapped out one more text to Soraya. But I'm excited to be back