Free Stripped Down by Lorelei James

Mel’s shoulder. “No one knows, do they? Not even my daughter?”
    She shook her head. “London didn’t need that extra stress during her wedding planning. We both know she would’ve stressed about that too.” But her friend wasn’t dumb. She’d asked Mel several times if she was avoiding her. She’d asked if something had happened on the circuit to make Mel drop out. Mel would tell her the reason she’d been distant the last six months as soon as her bossy-pants BFF returned from her honeymoon.
    “You’re right. I’m happy for my daughter and son-in-law, but I’m glad the wedding is over.” She smiled. “Now I just have to worry about you.”
    “I promise not to take any chances with Plato if I’m not feeling up to it. You know I’d never risk his safety. I’ll be fine as long as I follow the rules.”
    “I’ve watched you get a handle on this, sweetie, so I trust you with him.”
    “Thanks for everything.”
    “You’re welcome. Drive safe. Text me when you get there.”
    “I will.”
    Berlin stepped back and Mel slowly pulled the horse trailer down the long road leading away from Grade A Farms.
    The drive to the Grant Ranch was a little over two hours, and Mel didn’t have any reason to hurry. Chances were good she’d beat Wynton there. The family had been in Denver since yesterday, and today they were getting the final diagnosis on the Grant patriarch. She’d stalled as long as she could at Gradsky’s. She’d even driven into town and loaded up on groceries because she wasn’t sure what type of food a bachelor rancher would stock.
    In the last six months, after being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes, Mel had no choice but to monitor every morsel of food that went into her mouth. She also had to reduce her physical activity because she was still learning her limits—which weren’t even close to the same as they’d been before her diagnosis.
    She hadn’t been lucky enough to “get” type 2 diabetes, which allowed her to control her blood sugar levels with modifications to her diet. Her regulation came in the form of daily shots of insulin. Keeping snacks within reach for those times when she felt her glycemic index was low. Carrying glucose tablets with her. Making sure she always had her blood glucose meter, glucose strips, lancets, her needle disposal container, and insulin with her. Thankfully, she could inject herself with an insulin pen, and the type of insulin it used didn’t have to be refrigerated.
    Even after six months, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to any of this. It still seemed surreal.
    After fighting fatigue, excessive thirst, and weight loss for two months, when she was in LA she finally went to the ER because she thought she might have mono. She’d had it once before and the symptoms seemed similar. The doctor hadn’t been convinced her body would react that way to the stress of being on the road, so she’d ordered a battery of tests. When the blood and urine tests had come back positive for diabetes, and further testing indicated type 1 diabetes—a rare diagnosis in a thirty-two-year-old—Mel had literally passed out.
    After she’d come to in the hospital, she’d learned the meaning of diabetic shock. She learned her life would never be the same. Ironically, she’d chosen a hospital that had an entire department devoted to dealing with diabetic patients. She learned how to inject herself with insulin. She’d taken a two-day course on proper nutrition, the dangers of excessive physical activity, and how to monitor her blood sugar. She’d soaked it all in. The only time she’d outwardly balked was during her appointment with a counselor who blathered on about emotional changes affecting the body.
    Mel had been numb to that. The physical changes concerned her because she realized she’d have to quit competing. It wasn’t just her and her horse in the arena, like a barrel racer, or a bulldogger, or a tie down roper. No, in the cutting horse division,