CHAPTER ELEVEN #2
“God, just talking about that man has left a horrible taste in my mouth.” She stroked her finger over Midnight’s star, but he opened his eyes and quickly stood up, going to Raven for milk. The mare stood there patiently, allowing him to eat.
I offered Danica my hand to help her stand up. She took it and thanked me.
I hated having to let her go again.
“Cesca?” Cameron called into the barn as the three of us wandered out of Raven and Midnight’s stall. I closed the door.
“Yeah, Dad?” Francesca poked her little head with a straight black bob, over the door of Galahad’s stall.
“Time to go, sweetie.”
Francesca’s eyes turned sad. “Do we have to?”
“You have reading, and I have dinner to make. Sorry, honey.”
Her pout deepened. “Five more minutes?”
“Five,” Cameron agreed.
The three of us made our way further down through the barn, but when Mouse, the timid gray mare with the black mane, hung her head over the side of her stall, Danica stopped and slowly approached her. “Hi, sweet girl.”
She eyed her warily but didn’t step back, so she continued to step forward, her hand outstretched. Cameron was busy petting Conrad, the champagne-colored horse whose stall was beside Galahad’s, but I stopped and watched Danica with Mouse.
Danica didn’t hesitate. She made contact with Mouse’s head, between her eyes, with calm confidence, and Mouse let her.
“There’s a sweet girl,” Danica whispered. “Look at how gentle your eyes are. I bet you’re the sweetest one in here, aren’t you? Just shy.” She lowered her voice even more. “I’m shy too. I get it.”
I didn’t dare move, because I didn’t want to spook Mouse, but the skittish gray dun had never let me touch her for that long. Which was part of the reason why she looked as rough as she did. She’d never been brushed.
“Such a sweetie,” Danica continued to say to Mouse.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Then she did something I never thought anybody would be able to do with Mouse; she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the horse’s and closed her eyes.
And if I wasn’t standing there seeing it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it, but Mouse stayed right there and let her.
“Is that Mouse?” Cameron asked, shock in his voice.
I nodded, too stunned to speak. Too afraid to speak and spook Mouse.
Moving her hand from Mouse’s forehead, Danica began to stroke the horse’s cheek. “What’s your story, baby girl?”
“Danica,” I whispered, not moving.
“Hmm?” She didn’t move.
“Would you be willing to try to go into her stall with her?”
She kept her forehead against Mouse’s but glanced over at me. “I can try.”
“She’s been here nearly a year and never let me brush her.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you need to be brushed.”
“Lift the latch there. Slowly,” I instructed.
With her forehead still touching Mouse’s, she did as I said. Mouse’s eyes went wider when she realized what was happening, and immediately backed away, burying herself in the furthest corner of her stall.
Danica persisted though, and opened the door. She grabbed a brush from the top of the ledge, and stretched out her empty hand toward Mouse as she slowly approached her. “I’m not going to hurt you, baby. Nobody wants to hurt you.”
Mouse shifted and stomped her foot, eyeing Danica warily. But there was also a curiosity there, and an openness in her gaze that I hadn’t seen before.
Cautiously, Danica took one step closer. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she said again. “I just want to brush you. It’ll feel so good to get brushed. I love brushing my hair. Getting out all the tangles.”
Why did I instantly want to run my fingers through Danica’s hair and feel how soft and tangle-free it was?
She reached Mouse’s neck and slowly slid the brush down it. Mouse’s entire body gave a little shake, like a sudden shiver had just taken over her soul.
“See? Doesn’t that feel nice?” Danica asked. She stepped closer and did it again, this time cascading the brush further down Mouse’s body toward her hips.
Mouse gave another little shiver, and she lifted her head. Then, she stepped closer to Danica and showed Danica her side, as if encouraging her to continue.
So she did.
“That’s a good girl. You’ve got such a pretty coat. Just needs a little TLC. Every lady deserves a little pampering.”
Mouse shivered again, and again, then turned her head around and tried to playfully nibble on Danica’s shoulder.
“Hey, you,” Danica said, giving a little giggle. “That’s not food.” She reached over and grabbed some hay from the hay cage and held it out for Mouse. “Eat this, not my sweater.”
Mouse ignored the food, but tried to pull Danica’s hair into her mouth.
The light in the horse’s eyes was a new and beautiful thing.
There wasn’t fear there. Just curiosity and …
trust. Danica was the first person she had ever trusted, and she was showing her affection in her own peculiar horse way.
A hand landed on my shoulder. “We’re gonna head home,” Cameron said gently to not spook Mouse. “She’s a very special lady, Danica St. Claire.”
I glanced at him, and the knowing glint in his eyes made my temperature spike.
“Not sure how much you know of their family, but they all deserve only the very best. And I think you do too, my friend.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze, then took off, reaching out his hand for a reluctant Francesca, who scampered out of Galahad’s stall.
“Bye, Tom,” Francesca called to me, waving.
Mouse gave a twitch from the sudden loud noise, but she didn’t back away from Danica.
I waved at Francesca, but didn’t say anything.
“Uh, would you mind, um … ha-ha,” Danica said to me, chuckling. “There’s a hair elastic on my wrist. Could you put my hair in a ponytail, please? I don’t think she wants to eat it, but it’s getting kind of gummy with horse slobber.”
I cleared my throat, and stepped into the stall, careful to keep my distance from Mouse.
Danica kept brushing her, but held out her free hand with the elastic. Her wrist was slender, and her skin was so soft. I gently slid it off, and she tipped her chin to the rafters so her long, blonde waves hung down her back. I swallowed hard as I carefully gathered it all into a ponytail.
“I have a son. I didn’t learn how to do these very well,” I said, praying she couldn’t tell that my hands were shaking as I fought the urge to just continue running my fingers through the silky strands.
“It’s all right. Just enough to keep little Miss Mouse here from getting a chunk off it by accident.”
I grunted, and secured the elastic around the hand at the base of her neck, then flicked it over her shoulder that was furthest from Mouse.
“Thank you.”
I cleared my throat again, murmured, “Mm-hmm,” then stepped back out of the stall, mesmerized by woman and horse while the tingling sensation of her hair against my fingers remained like the whisper of a touch.
Turning away, I pulled in a few deep, fortifying breaths. As if she knew something was up, Portia left her bed, because I still hadn’t collapsed the cot or brought her princess bed back into the house, and came to stand at my feet.
I crouched down and scratched her ears, letting her wiry hair and warm skin settle me.
“You’re very sweet, aren’t you?” Danica murmured softly to Mouse. “Such a pretty girl. Look at all the hair coming off you. I bet that feels good, huh?”
“Wow, Mom. Mouse is letting you brush her.” Sam came to stand beside me, surprise and glee in her eyes—the same green-hazel shade as her mother’s.
“Come in,” Danica said to her child, motioning for Sam to join her. “Slowly.”
Sam approached with measured footsteps, and Mouse watched her with caution. But she was so subdued now from Danica’s brushing that when Sam started to brush her neck, the horse didn’t even flinch.
“Her eyes are so expressive,” Sam marveled. “She’s also filthy.”
“Maybe one day you’ll let us give you a bath. Hmm, Miss Mouse?”
A rush of conflicting emotions filled my chest. Anxiousness mixed with excitement.
Desire mixed with unease. Joy mixed with sadness.
It was hard to believe that today was the same day that Raven arrived and we buried Angel.
All those things felt like a lifetime ago. And all I’d had to eat was an apple.
My belly rumbled loud enough that even Portia grunted.
“I heard that,” Sam said, craning her neck around to face me, a carefree smile on her face.
“I’m fine.”
Danica checked her watch and gasped softly. “Oh wow. It’s late. We should head home. You still have reading to do as well.”
Sam whimpered. “Awe. Do we have to?”
“Y-you can come back tomorrow, if you’d like?” I suggested, eager to see Danica again.
Sam grinned wide, then faced her mother. “Can we, Mom? Please? Midnight will be growing so fast. And we don’t want to lose all the progress we’ve made with Mouse.”
I could see the war within Danica’s eyes that she wanted to return for the same reasons as her daughter, but wasn’t sure if she should say yes. “Maybe just quickly after school. We definitely don’t want to lose the progress we’ve made with Mouse.”
Sam did a little bounce on her toes, jostling her blonde locks. That just seemed to draw Mouse’s attention though, and the mare decided to try to munch on Sam’s hair. Sam giggled and gently pushed Mouse away. “Mouse, gross.”
They spent another five minutes with Mouse, petting and brushing her, then they said their goodbyes and closed the stall door.
I walked them out, battling with the melancholy feeling settling in my chest at the thought of having to say goodbye—to either of them.
“I’m sad that Angel died, but so glad that Midnight is going to be okay, and that you were able to get Raven over here so quickly,” Sam said as I followed them to their RAV.
The rain had ebbed, and just a heavy mist hung in the air now as the sky grew darker.
Spring was certainly on its way, but winter seemed to cling to dusk and dawn the longest, making the air crisp and biting in the lungs.
“Me too,” I said to her, holding onto Danica’s open door as she climbed behind the steering wheel. “Thank you both for all of your help. And to see Mouse that way …” I shook my head. “I’m so glad she’s bonded with someone. With two someones.”
“She’s a sweetie,” Danica said, tugging the hair elastic out of her hair and fanning her locks around her shoulders again.
“See you tomorrow, Tom,” Sam said, clicking herself into her seat.
I leaned forward a little to peer into the back seat. “See you tomorrow, Sam.”
Danica’s eyes met mine, and her chest inflated. “See you tomorrow, Tom,” she whispered.
“Buona notte, Danica.”
Her long, slender throat moved on a swallow. “B-buona notte.”
I closed her door and stepped back as she turned on the engine, gave me one last closed-mouth smile, and backed up.
Sam waved at me as Danica put the vehicle into drive, and I waved back. Then I stood there and watched them drive off, my heart confused, my stomach starving, and my head all over the place.