I finished my essay in an hour, after typing it up, checking for grammatical errors, and printing it out; I know it may seem that I'm being just a little too obsessive about it, but hey if I fail one class, I have to retake it again in order to earn the credit. And, so far, I've been getting all As in my classes.

After putting my essay back into its folder and returning the phone to its holder, I put my boots back on and joined Mallory out in the barn to finish up with the chores. As I entered the barn, I was glad that Caleb wasn't around; it wasn't because he was always asking me out on a date. It's because, and I swear I'm either losing my mind or my suspicions are true, but he seems to be watching my every move.

Ever since he came here, Mallory and I have had to watch what we say because it feels as though someone's eavesdropping on any conversation I have.

I guess that's why Mallory thinks there's something up with Caleb; maybe she's right. Maybe there's more to him than meets the eye I thought walking into the Tack Room.

Mallory wasn't there, but I found my tack cleaned, polished, and stored in it's appropriate place. There was a note on the bulletin board addressed to me and I picked it up.

Amy,

Went into town to run some errands and get a few things that I need, I'll be back in a couple of hours to help finish the chores

Mallory

The sound of the washing machine turning off caught my ears and I walked to where Mallory had sorted both hers and my stuff in different piles with our names on it. I saw Sapphire's belongings, her blankets, saddlepads, halters, and wraps sorted in three different piles: whites, colors, and darks.

I chuckled and opened the door to the dryer, before opening the door to the washing machine. Looking inside, I recognized Spartan's belongings that he had used this week inside. I leaned forward and began taking the items out and put them in the dryer.

A few minutes later, Spartan's belongings were in the dryer, while Sapphire's belongings were being washed.

As I closed the lid to the washer, I heard the sound of footsteps walking around the stall area.

I walked quietly toward the door and peeked out the door to see who it was.

Who I saw took my breathe away.

He might have been gone for five years, but there was no mistaking him now: Ty was standing in front of Storm's stall, giving the gelding some attention.

I don't know why I did was I did, nor was I really thinking at the time, but anger and hurt were welling up inside my chest and, the next thing I know, I'm walking toward him. I didn't feel anything, not even the tears that were falling down my face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked angrily.

"Amy wait . . . just let me explain," he replied, startled that I was around.

"Explain what? You don't have to explain anything, all you all have to do is get out of here," I replied.

"Amy . . . please . . ." he began but I smacked him across the face.

"Just get out!" I yelled and put my hands to his chest pushing him toward the doorway. "Just go and never come back here!"

He stumbled back and, without another word, he shook his head and left, even though he looked like he wanted to say something.

I stood where I was, hyperventilating a bit, until I heard the sounds of his truck driving away.

It was only then did I allow myself to feel anything outside of what I felt in my heart. I blindly made my way to Spartan's stall, knowing that, even if he was more focused on his food, he would be there just like he's always been.

I opened his stall door and and wrapped my arms around his neck, crying like I haven't cried since the night He left.

Storm whickered and stood study like a rock, letting me cry my tears.

"Oh boy, why did he have to come back now? Why couldn't he have just stayed away?" I asked.

Storm snorted but did nothing.

I don't know how long I cried into his neck, I don't even remember sitting in the hay of his stall, I just remember closing my eyes, and falling into darkness.

My stepfather, Wade, has always told me that crying was a sign of weakness; I don't know what my real dad would have said about it, considering he was almost always in jail. My mother cried a lot, especially when I had been placed in Foster Care. But . . . after the episode with Amy . . . I wouldn't care if someone saw me crying.

I didn't know what hurt me worse . . . her words, or the hurt and anger I saw in her eyes. Soraya was right, I did more damage than good when I left; but, at the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. But, how exactly can I explain what was going on in my head when Amy didn't even want to hear about it?

As I sat in my truck looking out at my favorite view of the ranch, I wondered why I even came back here; and even considered leaving tonight. However, my low funds kept me from leaving. I took a big risk asking Jack for my old job back; for, if he hadn't said yes, I'd be stuck.

You can't go anywhere else; you're just gonna have to tough it out and stay here for awhile until you're able to leave. If Amy learns to trust you, then fine we'll stay said common sense.

And if it don't work out asked the little nagging feeling which was doubt.

I sighed, knowing the answer to that one.

If Amy and I didn't work out our problems, it would just do even more harm than good if I stayed here longer than necessary.

And, when the time is right, if it didn't work out, I'd just leave during the night, like I did five years ago.

Sorry it's a short chapter, but when the characters were talking to me, this is what they said; the next chapter will be longer.