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PROLOGUE - MARE - AGE TEN

Her frail hand is cold and shaky as she moves blonde ringlets from my forehead. She looks so tired as she glances down at me sadly. “Momma’s gonna leave tonight, honey,” she tells me, her voice not quite sounding the way I know it should.

“Where are you going, Momma?” I ask, nuzzling deeper into her chest. I’m as gentle as possible, careful not to hurt her. Daddy’s always reminding me that Momma is fragile now. I have to watch my movements around her so I don’t make her feel any pain.

Momma sighs. It’s long and drawn out. One of those big sighs I only ever hear from grown-ups. Suddenly, her body begins to shake underneath mine. I look up to see her eyes full of tears.

“Don’t cry, Momma,” I beg, carefully pushing off the bed to wipe away her tears. “I’ll go with you so you don’t have to go alone.”

Her eyes close as water streams down her pale cheeks. I miss the color they used to be before she got sick—tan with a tinge of pink from the sun from when she’d forget to wear a hat while we rode down the trails on our horses.

“I’m afraid where I’m going I have to go alone, Marigold,” she answers sadly.

Tears form in my eyes, even though I try to fight them. Daddy always tells me Momma doesn’t like to see me cry. I try to make them stop, but Momma’s tears increase, and it’s no use controlling mine either.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere I can’t go,” I beg.

Her frail fingers work through my hair. “With everything in me, I wish I didn’t have to go. But sometimes we aren’t the ones to make these choices. You understand me?”

I nod my head even though I don’t understand at all. Both Momma and Daddy have been telling me that she would be leaving soon, and I won’t be able to see her again, but it doesn’t make sense to me. It goes over my head, even though I’m trying hard to understand their words.

Why does Momma have to go somewhere I can’t go?

“You might not see me anymore, my dear Marigold, but I know—I swear—you’ll still feel me.” I look up at Momma through blurry, tear-filled eyes.

“How?”

She places her cold palm against my chest, right above the princess on my nightgown. “You’ll feel me right here. Forever. Until we’re together again.”

I sniffle. “I’ll see you again?”

Momma pulls me into her, burying her face into my hair as I hide mine against her bony chest. “You’ll see me again. When it’s time, I’ll meet you in a field of marigolds. Just like the one you were named after.”

I’m trying to be strong for Momma, but I can’t keep it up any longer. I sob; the thought just now occurring to me that I may never see my momma again. Not for a long, long time.

“I’ll be waiting for you, my soft, sweet, Marigold. But I don’t want to see you there for a while. You hear me? You live your life, honey. Take your time meeting me there.”

“Don’t go, Momma,” I plead, clutching her nightgown.

She wipes my tears away, her eyes moving over my face. “I’ll always be with you. This is not a goodbye. Not truly. Anytime you need me, I’ll be here.”

“How will I know?”

She purses her lips and takes a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment before she opens them again.

She looks so tired.

“I’ll make sure you know.”

I nod because I don’t know what else to do. I hug my momma tight until Daddy comes in and tells me it’s time to go to bed. I don’t tell him that Momma told me she was leaving. I know my momma. She’ll want to be the one to tell him herself.

So I cling to her for a few more seconds, squeezing her tight, even knowing I was supposed to be gentle with her.

And then I leave, trying to hide the tears as Daddy helps me get ready for bed.

I knew I wouldn’t sleep at all. I won’t be able to sleep knowing Momma might not be here in the morning.

I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at the snowflakes falling from the sky when I hear Daddy’s first cry. I shake my head, trying to get the sound to go away. With each added snowflake on the ground, Daddy’s cries get louder. They turn into something more, too. Almost like a screaming-cry. They get so loud that I hold my hands over my ears because I know what’s happened.

Momma had been right. She left. She’d gone somewhere Daddy and I can’t follow.

My feet take off on their own. One moment I was sitting on the little seat in front of my window that overlooked the trees and the stables, the next I'm running through the snow in a pair of socks and my nightgown, my eyes set on the large home at the top of the hill.

I’m careful as I sneak through the backdoor, knowing the Jennings family never locks it. They don’t have to. There isn’t anyone around for miles.

There’s an ache in my chest as I tip-toe down the familiar hallway, being extra careful to avoid the old floorboards that creak underneath the lightest of pressure. The moon shining through the expansive windows at the front of the house is the only thing guiding my way. I’m careful to not make any noise as I come to a stop in front of a cherry-wood door. Posters of football players and rodeo stars are messily taped to it in a way that makes the wood almost invisible underneath it all.