6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Luke
“ S o, Uncle Luke,” Maisy says relaxing on the couch with a mug of steaming coffee in her hand. She gives me a crooked sideways smile that suggests she’s cooking something up. “Have you met anyone… interesting while you’ve been here?”
“Sure. Mr Schnider, the lawyer in town, was very helpful with the paperwork and handover.”
Maisy makes a non-committal noise, something like a short hum, as if I’ve just suggested that she wears coveralls to her high-school prom. Or the answer I’d given her is just plain wrong.
She twists her nose to the side and says, “That’s not really the interesting I was talking about, Luke.”
“Can you expand on your thought process? Or am I expected to read your mind?” My laptop is open on the table in front of me, but I’m not focused on the rows and columns of the spreadsheet.
“You are hilarious. And Dad was right. You don’t have a clue. I’ve lost the bet.”
“What bet? What are you talking about?”
My older brother Darryl, Maisy’s dad, is the golden boy. The favorite. And I suppose, because of our age difference - I was a happy accident, according to Mom – I’ve felt as if he’s always looking down on me. Aside from splitting up with Courtney, I’d say that part of the reason that I volunteered to run the ranch up here in Virginia, was to be far enough away from Darryl, and my dad, to do things my own way.
My brother and I are poles apart. Total opposites. I know horses. I’ve always wanted to be around them. Darryl? He’d rather be driving the business. He’s smart and ruthless. He doesn’t mince words. And he’s not particularly bothered if he upsets people who get in his way.
Maisy is her father’s daughter. My guard is up when she’s around.
“Let me spell it out for you,” Maisy says, laughing. “Have. You. Met. A. Nice. Lady… Yet?”
“Is that all you think about, Maisy? I have a horse farm to run here. My day is full, from the moment I wake up in the morning until the second I lay my head down to sleep. There is no time. And, I mean, no. There’s nothing left for… courting.”
“Ah. Aren’t you the sweetest man?” Maisy’s laughing at me and it’s my turn to roll my eyes to the ceiling. “Quaint. That’s what you are. And, you know what? Some women go mad for quaint. Especially quaint with a Texan accent.” Maisy scoots to the edge of the couch, puts her mug on the coffee table, and picks up her phone. Her thumbs are a blur as she types something. “Let me see now,” she says as if she’s forgotten that I’m still in the room.
“Are you planning our Open Day?” I ask knowing full well that she isn’t.
“Nope.” Her eyes scan the screen.
“Okay, well, if you don’t need anything, I’m going to check on the horses.” I close my laptop and stand up.
“Just hold on one second.” Maisy raises a finger which has a hypnotic effect on me and keeps me from reaching the door. “I’m creating a profile for you.”
“A what?”
“Username. That’s you.” Maisy’s eyes flick up briefly. “Luke M. Password. Profile name. Lonesome Cowboy. Capital L. Capital C.”
“Maisy. I have things to do. I’ve got no time for games.”
“This isn’t a game, Uncle Luke. This is TheOne4U dating app.”
“Excuse me? Maisy.” I’m too perplexed to follow up with a sentence of cohesive thought. All I can do is pace and rake my fingers across my scalp. My niece has been in my house for less than a week and already I’m wishing she was on a plane heading south. Or anywhere.
“Don’t be such a technophobe. This is the way people meet people these days.”
“I’m not a technophobe. I embrace technology that helps me in my day and makes my life easier. What I object to are things that take away my attention from what’s important.”
“I think that loneliness is an important issue, especially among men in rural communities.” Maisy doesn’t look up from her screen. “I can show you the stats of depression and suicides if you want. And besides...” She shoots me her goofy grin, “… this is fun.”
“For you, maybe. But honestly, I can’t see it working out for me. Turn it off, please.” I change down my tone to something softer. “I’m not going to use it. I appreciate you wanting to match me with someone… nice. But if someone is right for me, they’ll walk right in. I don’t need tech for that. When I meet The One, I’ll just know. So, please…” Maisy looks at me, her head tilted to one side. “Turn it off.” I fix her with a stony look. “Now.”
“Oh. Alright. You’re such a stick-in-the-mud.” Maisy crosses her arms and sinks back into the couch like she did when she was seven years old.
“Maybe I am.” I don’t want to be negative. I want to get along with Maisy. She has some good skills that I don’t have. I’d like to keep things amicable between us, so I say, “I’m going to the stables. I’ve got stuff to do. But when I get back, how about you show me your ideas for the ranch.”
The mood in the room changes in an instant. Maisy sits up like she’s spring-loaded and grins at me. Her sparkle returns. “I thought you’d never ask!”
There’s nothing at the stables that needs my urgent attention. I just need to get outside and move around. I’ll ride Deedee to the back of the property through the trees. I just felt suddenly claustrophobic in the house, ambushed by Maisy and her online dating app.
If I’m honest, I still feel sore about Courtney leaving. Rejection is a bitter pill to swallow. I know in my head that she left through no fault of mine, but in my heart, I still go over all the things I could have said and done to make her stay. The same internal conversation goes around and around my brain and just gives me a headache. She wanted to go. She didn’t want me anymore. You can’t make someone love you if they don’t.
I take my hat from the coat rack in the hall and put it on as I stride to the stables.
Deedee neighs a greeting and kicks hello on the door of his loose box. Treasure and the other horses are out grazing in the paddock, and I know that the stallion feels as if he’s missing out.
“Don’t worry boy. We’re going out. Just you and me.”
Ray is in the tack room where he’s polishing the saddles. He tips his hat when he sees me. We have a brief exchange about horse feed and orders of oats for the winter. I tell him that I’m taking Deedee out. I grab his bridle from the peg on the wall and heave his saddle from the rack.
“Enjoy your ride.”
“Thanks, I will.”
Then I carry everything out to the stableyard where Deedee tosses his magnificent head and shakes his rockstar mane. I sling the saddle over the stable door then let myself in. He nuzzles my hand with a warm velvet nose. Despite his size, Deedee is a gentle and good-natured soul. Although he lets Ray ride him, I have a special bond with this horse. I wouldn’t say he’s mine. We’re more like buddies. Someone I can talk to. Someone who understands me. Who doesn’t judge.
“Stand still while I get you saddled up, boy.” Deedee paws the ground and tosses his head a couple of times.
The well-polished saddle leather creaks softly as I hoist it onto Deedee’s back. I fasten the girth straps and fit his bridle, gently pulling his ears through, one by one, before buckling it up behind his cheek.
I grab the reins and lead the stallion out of the stable. His hooves plod rhythmically on the paving outside. Then I pull the reins over his head, reach up and grasp the front of the saddle, put my foot in the stirrup, and swing my leg up and over. Deedee adjusts his stance to accommodate my weight. I collect the straps of leather in my hand and squeeze gently to encourage the horse to walk on.
The horses in the paddock sense our presence. They whinny and prance as we walk by. I kick Deedee into a trot on the dirt track leading up to the treeline and the ridge beyond. It feels good to be riding. It always feels good to be on horseback. It clears my head. I release Deedee’s reins and kick him into a full gallop. He loves to run, and I just let him go. We charge up the hill to the lookout, then slow to a stop. I gaze down the sweep of the valley to the ranch buildings that look like models in a mini landscape of meadows, hedges, and trees. I breathe and feel better about everything.
After my ride, Deedee takes me back to the stableyard. I jump down and lead him into the loose box where he has clean straw, water, and a bag of hay and oats, a measured meal of all the vitamins and minerals a stud stallion needs to stay in peak condition. I take off his saddle and bridle then use a body brush to groom his coat in broad sweeps across the contours of his muscular flanks. I comb out his mane and tail. He seems to enjoy the pampering.
“There now. Fit for another trophy.”
I smooth my hand flat along Deedee’s white blaze down his handsome face when a female voice interrupts my action.
“Hello, there. Mr Maddox? Is that you in there?”
I step out into the sunshine, shielding my eyes against the glare. “Hey. I’m Luke Maddox. How can I help you?”
As my eyes adjust to the brightness outside, I see who the voice belongs to, and I’m stunned for a minute. A warm smile washes up from my toes and spreads across my face.
“Hi, I hope this isn’t an inconvenient time, Mr Maddox.”
“No. Not at all.” I’m suddenly shy, aware that I’m probably covered in hay, straw, and Deedee’s hair. “Lydia. It’s Lydia, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.” Lydia’s bright intelligent eyes meet mine. “You remembered.”
How could I forget? “What can I do for you today, ma’am?” I say opening the stable door and coming out into the yard. Lydia walks closer.
“Mr Maddox. What a beautiful horse.” Lydia looks past me to where Deedee is munching his feed.
“He is, isn’t he. This is our stud stallion. Top breeding sire with all the American Quarter Horse pedigree papers. His official name is Delaware Delmont Dandy, but we call him Deedee, for short. It should be Dee-dee-dee, of course, but that’s a mouthful too.”
Lydia laughs. “Dee-dee-dee sounds like you’re singing a tune. He’s handsome alright.” She gazes admiringly at my horse, then says, “Well, I don’t want to take up your time. I know you must have a million things to do, but I have a request concerning your crabapple trees.”
“I didn’t know I had crabapple trees.”
“Well, you do, and they look very healthy and productive. The apples are in good condition, displaying a variety of colors, and they hang in manageable clusters. And I’d like to… Mr Maddox.”
“Luke.”
“Luke. I have a wedding coming up and the whole design is around crabapples. I have a vision of creating an archway from crabapple bowers for the ceremony.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Yes. It’s going to be amazing. The only problem I have is the crabapple trees I was going to use have been struck with an ugly blight, so I was hoping to use some of yours.”
“I don’t see a problem with your request at all. I didn’t even know I had crabapple trees on the property, so I guess whatever you want is fine.” I think for a moment. “How about you show me the trees you’re interested in.”
Lydia and I walk down the driveway to the fence line at the road. Small trees with branches covered in tiny round fruit form part of the thick hedge border. Lydia walks up to the nearest one and smooths her hand over the red and orange fruit.
“Look, they’re perfect,” she says smiling at me with impish joy. Then she tells me when she’d like to come and cut the branches. “The wedding is a few weeks away, so these teeny tiny apples will be a teensy bit bigger but not as big as normal apples you find in stores.”
“Okay. Come and get what you want whenever you like.”
Lydia seems more than happy with my comment. “Well, that’s wonderful. I can work out an offer. The couple have a generous budget for floral design.”
“How about we just call it a wedding gift. I mean, I didn’t even know I had crabapple trees. And I didn’t even know that crabapples had a value. So, this time, whatever you’d like, take it.” I smile. “But next time, we’ll work something out. I could be sitting on a potential untapped goldmine of crabapples.”
“That is so nice of you, Mr Maddox.”
“Luke. You can call me Luke.”
“Okay. Luke. I’d love to add you to my list of suppliers, if that’s alright.”
“Absolutely.”
Lydia’s eyes sparkle. I seem to be hypnotized by her smile, and I can’t move away.
Neither of us speaks for a while, then Lydia says, “How are you enjoying living here in Oak River?”
“It’s fine. The horses are happy so that’s all that counts, really.”
“Have you had time to meet people in our community? We’re quite friendly and approachable.”
“I’m sure you are.” We walk a few paces back to the house.
“So, there’s a local band, Star Rangers, playing at The Old Oak Bar & Grill next Friday night,” says Lydia. “They’re pretty good. They play covers. Mostly rock. Indie. Old-school mostly. Nirvana, Foo Fighters, No Doubt, Johnny Cash. I’m just thinking about the songs I like the best. You should come. It’ll be fun.” She stops walking. “And you’ll meet people.”
“Thanks, Lydia. I’d like that,” I say although I’m suddenly shy about seeing Lydia in a social situation. I look down at my boots. “Would you like to come in for a coffee or tea, or something cold, perhaps?”
“Ah, thanks but I’ve got to go. Another time maybe? But thank you so much for helping out with the crabapple supply chain.”
Lydia reaches out to shake my hand. Polite. Business-like. But her touch sends a rush through me giving me instant goosebumps that I hope she doesn’t see. She turns and walks briskly down the track to the gate.
“I’ll see you next Friday,” I call after Lydia as she walks away. She gets into her van. Then she waves to me as she drives off.
I can’t believe I have a date. A date with a very pretty, attractive woman who asked me out. I’m dizzy with anticipation. I haven’t felt like this since high school. I calm my fluttering heart and walk back to the house.
“Who was that?” Maisy asks when I enter the living room.
“We met at the hotel.”
Maisy makes her low humming noise again. She doesn’t say anything but flashes one of her annoying crooked smiles my way.
“What? Why that look?” I say, instantly defensive.
“Just… she’s pretty.”
“Is she?” I’m trying to sound casual. I don’t even want to have this conversation, but I ask anyway, “How could you tell from in here?” The last thing I want is my niece nosing around and trying to organize my love life.
“Yes. Luke.” Maisy fixes me with a stern glare then punches me and laughs. “She is very pretty. Now, sit there and listen to my ideas. We are going to start pony trekking here.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” Maisy grabs her laptop and pushes me down into a chair. “Here’s why. Number one. No one else is doing horseback rides within a twenty-mile radius of this cute little historic town. I’ve done some digging and, although Oak River is a small town, it’s a popular weekend destination for residents of Richmond. And the Annual Spring Fair brings a big crowd from further afield. So, the conclusion is, that the potential spending public doesn’t reside here permanently but comes here for leisure activities. Such as hiking in the national park just up the road.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes. Number two. Here are some figures, sales projections, and potential earnings from horseback riding and treks.” Maisy opens a color-coded spreadsheet. “These numbers here are worst-case scenario. Let’s say we get two people a week who want just a one-hour ride. And then, this is potentially what we could get if we offer lessons, treks, family and group rides.” She clicks through to the next slide and traces her finger along an upward-slanting line on a graph. “The beauty of this is simplicity. We have the horses. We have the land. Ray took me through the woodland to the lookout point. It is amazing. I took some shots for the website. Look.” Maisy scrolls through landscape images on her phone. “What do you think?”
“Sounds great. No. Really. I am genuinely impressed.” Maisy beams at me. “I can’t believe that no one else is doing horseback rides out here. Maisy. Make it happen.”
“Really?” My niece looks suspicious. “You’re not going to argue with me?”
“No. Do you want me to?”
“No. I just thought that whatever I came up with, you were going to knock down out of principle.”
“That’s ridiculous. And you obviously have a very low opinion of me.”
“Does that mean I can go ahead with TheOne4U dating app?”
“No. And don’t push your luck.”