Chapter 8 Samantha
Samantha
Lying’s bad.
I mean, like, obviously.
But sometimes it takes a lie to get something done.
When we were kids, Vanessa never won anything, but especially not classes at horse shows. I won the most out of the three of us, but Natalie won quite a lot, beating me sometimes, too. Vanessa always trailed after both of us, and sometimes she trailed us by a wide margin.
Her parents kind of stopped paying attention to points.
They didn’t matter, and I knew that, but since they had end-of-the-year awards banquets where they gave us chairs, embroidered saddle pads, and massive ribbons the size of our heads, I paid a lot of attention.
More than I should have, really. I almost always won grand champion for whatever division we were showing in.
Natalie usually got reserve, or sometimes she’d take third overall.
But one year, as I was obsessively checking my points, I realized that they had forgotten to include Vanessa’s points from one show.
It was a show where she had, surprisingly, beaten Natalie, taking reserve to my grand.
It was noteworthy because it rarely happened.
And they didn’t record her points for it at all.
I emailed the points person to notify them of the oversight, and she thanked me. That should have been that.
Only, it wasn’t.
When the year-end awards were posted, they had again left Vanessa’s points off. She was not listed as receiving any awards when she should have gotten sixth overall thanks to her one really good show.
I emailed the lady again, this time almost irate.
She apologized, and she vowed to send out an email notifying everyone of the error, most critically the girl who was erroneously posted as winning sixth. But when I read that, I had an idea.
Vanessa had thought nothing of not being on that list.
She was never on the list.
But every year, every single year, she came to the end-of-the-year banquet and cheered us on with the biggest smile on her lovely face.
How much more meaningful would it be if she were surprised with the news when she got there?
I emailed the lady back and asked her to notify the girl who was posted wrongly, but not to email everyone else.
I wanted Vanessa to be surprised, if possible.
That omission was technically a lie, but seeing her face, the look of absolute shock, and then the split second in which it was transformed into complete and utter joy. . .it’s a memory I will forever cherish.
We all cried that day.
I’d have been absolutely wrecked if I had taken sixth overall. I might have refused to attend the stupid banquet, but when Vanessa’s name was announced as sixth overall? She ran to the front, and when she sat back down at our table, she sobbed with joy.
Sometimes lies have their place.
“Alright,” Vanessa says, bursting through the main door of the barn. “What’s this tragedy you needed to show us?” She stops so fast that Natalie runs into the back of her.
“Whoa, there,” Natalie says. “What died?”
I laugh. “I saddled both your horses up, so you don’t have an excuse.”
“I’m not in riding clothing.” Vanessa folds her arms. “So there.”
“You can ride in jeans and a t-shirt,” Natalie says. “I intend to.” She’s already grabbing her boots off the wall rack. “Thanks for saddling Drew for me. He’s my absolute favorite.”
“He’s finally responding to the Cushing’s medicine, and he was frolicking two days ago. I lunged him yesterday, and he looks great. I think a nice, easy trail ride would be the perfect way to start him back.”
Natalie’s beaming.
“That’s not Foxy.” Vanessa’s glaring at Teagan like she might bite her.
“But she’s the tiniest horse we have, and you’re just small enough to ride her. I’d like her to have a few more trail rides on her with solid riders before we start putting paying children on her, and I think you’d be the perfect one to help her get some extra miles.”
A purpose. That’s what Vanessa needs.
She bites her lip, and I realize that I have her.
She hems and she haws, but in the next five minutes, we’re all on our way down to the River Blackwater.
The changing leaves of the elms, the sycamores, and the oaks are such a beautiful contrast with the evergreen trees sprinkling the small forested areas between our estate and the river that I snap a few photos.
“Alright, you have to tell us about how it went with Cillian,” Vanessa says, wisely seeking some kind of diversion. Her hands where they’re gripping the reins are totally white, so I know that in spite of Teagan’s size, she’s nervous.
“It was fine,” Natalie says. “I would have said it was amazing, except. . .” She sighs, her shoulders slumping, uncharacteristic for someone with perfect equitation most of the time.
“Except?” Vanessa prods.
“He has no kids,” Natalie says. “Which is nice—fine, even. But because of it, his priorities are kind of different than mine. He kept going on and on about how he likes to go to Waterford for dates, and how he spends all his money on sports cars.”
“The alternative being his complete fascination with other people’s children?” I ask.
Natalie turns toward me slowly. “Ew.”
I laugh. “Exactly. He’s a bachelor. Of course he’s self-centered and egotistical. The goal is that he’ll fall for you and your kids. No one likes kids. They’re horrible. But they might love certain ones, once they get close enough to them that they see their flashes of brilliance.”
“Flashes of brilliance,” Vanessa says. “I like that. And as parents, we hope for more flashes and less splashes.”
Natalie laughs. “I guess, but it was hard to see a future for us when we’re so different.”
“So. . .no second date then?” I ask.
Natalie shrugs. “He insisted we try again, and I said that was fine. I’m just not that optimistic, I guess. It feels like my decision in terms of who to date is a pretty important one. I’m not just a lady—I’m a mom. Does that sound crazy?”
“Not at all,” I say. “But don’t forget you’re also a lady. Not just a mom.”
“What about you and Jack?” Natalie asks. “Anything else from his mom?”
Vanessa’s pumpkin horror story takes us to the river and almost all the way back again.
“She’s a complete lunatic,” Natalie says, before I can. “I hope you know that.”
“Even lunatics can make a point sometimes,” Vanessa says. “She knows her son well, and I really may be a grey squirrel.”
Natalie kicks Drew a little harder than I’d have liked, but he picks up a trot and she steers him right in front of Teagan.
Liam, the skittish thoroughbred I’m on, isn’t a fan of the shenanigans.
Neither is Teagan.
Or Vanessa, for that matter. “What are you doing?” She’s scowling as she gets Teagan back under control.
“I wanted to make darn sure you’re listening when I say this.
” Natalie leans toward Vanessa, her eyes flashing, clutching all the reins in one hand so she can point at her too.
“You, Vanessa Littleton, aren’t a squirrel.
You’re a brilliant, talented, gorgeous, fan-freaking-tastic woman, and Jack isn’t saving you from anything.
He’s lucky to have met you, and he knows it.
Do not let his insane mother convince you otherwise. ”
Vanessa swallows. “I do have a kid who struggles with drugs, three kids without a father, and some self-esteem issues.”
Natalie throws her hands up in the air, dropping her reins, and if Drew wasn’t such a saint, she might be scrabbling at his neck to keep from falling off as he bolted up the hill.
“Who doesn’t have a pile of problems? Jack’s got two little kids, and two ridiculously time-consuming hobbies, an insane mother, and.
. .no hair! He ain’t perfect either.” She finally grabs her reins again, and blessedly, she rubs Drew’s neck.
“Good boy.” She swings him around and gives Teagan some space.
Vanessa looks like she wants to argue with Natalie, so I figure this is a good time for the good cop to jump in.
“I agree with the nutcase over there who’s trying to terrify all the horses.
Your boy Jack’s lucky to have you, and if his mom’s too stupid to see it, well, that’s one more thing to put on the column of ‘Jack’s problems,’ but it’s not a reason for you to doubt yourself. ”
When we get back, our contractor—Cillian’s hot friend Ronan Murray—is standing by the barn. His hands are jammed into his pockets, and his face is a little brighter red than it should be. That’s a bad sign.
“Did you get a chance to look at that thing around behind the tack room?” I ask.
“What thing?” Natalie asks. “Is something wrong?”
“I noticed a leak,” I say. “Outside, but I’m worried that it’s going to impact more than the stone.”
I swing off Liam, and I point. “I’m going to get the horses tacked down, and then we can talk.”
Murray nods slowly. “Good idea. This may take a bit.”
I catch the girls up on what I found while we get the horses put away. “At least Drew and Teagan did great today,” I say. “But we may have some bad news to follow it.”
And once we’re done, it looks like I’m right. “We’re going to have to open up this wall,” Murray says. “My guess is that the stones shifted after the fire, and at least one of the pipes we ran cracked.”
“What if they shift more?” Natalie asks. “After you fix them, I mean?”
“We’ll plumb it with some give joints this time, now that there’s a known problem.” Ronan Murray shrugs. “But don’t worry too much. It’s a hassle, but I’ve notified the insurance company. I’ll just need some supervision and sign-offs from Natalie as the ‘owner’ and Samantha as the foreman.”
“At least I don’t have to do anything, right?” Vanessa’s smiling, and she looks relieved.
“You’re off the hook, it seems,” Ronan says. “The paperwork just needs these two.”
“And you don’t think it’ll cost us more?” Vanessa asks.
Ronan shrugs. “Let’s hope not.”