11. Jacinthe
Jacinthe
T he sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs fills the forest as we make our way up the trail. The air is sharp with an evening chill that makes the inside of my nose tickle. I can hear Nana lumbering along behind me where I’m leading the trek on Pierrot.
It didn’t surprise me that Tess picked Nana. She’s the definition of a gentle giant. Seems like they’d get along.
Not that Tess is a giant, but she felt extra tall hovering over me in the yard earlier, her strong farrier hands holding me steady, her green eyes staring straight into my soul.
The back of my neck burns as I wonder if there’s some way she can tell what I’m thinking.
It’s embarrassing, really, to be thinking about a woman’s strong hands so much. I’m supposed to be the woman with the strong hands. I’m supposed to be the one with the rugged butch charm. I’m not supposed to fall for it myself.
Not that I’m falling.
Sure, I almost fell into her stupidly big muscled arms today, but that is not the same as falling for her .
I glance behind me at where the guests are plodding along the trail behind me and Tess, their fluorescent helmets and high-vis vests gleaming like beacons in the darkening woods.
They made the usual jokes about feeling dorky in the construction site get-up, but as I’ve learned through many years of experience, you can never make your trail riders too visible.
We’re almost at Sunset Ridge, a plateau on a big hill that conveniently has another plateau on the opposite side, which we call—shockingly—Sunrise Ridge. The woods are thinning, the trail leading us out past the final wall of trees and onto the wide, rocky plateau.
“Wow!” I hear one of the guests say. “This is gorgeous.”
I grin at the reaction. I’ve seen more sunsets here than I can count, but something about watching somebody experience the view for the first time always makes me look at these mountains with fresh eyes.
“This is our spot,” I announce. “ Mesdames et monsieurs , if you could all bring your horses over by that hitching post, I’ll help you dismount so we can enjoy the sunset.”
I point at the simple wooden rail that’s been worn down to a smooth sheen over the decades. The horses know the drill, so the riders don’t have to do much steering. Once they’re safely gathered by the rail, I swing myself off Pierrot.
The second my feet hit the ground, my head spins, the edges of my vision blurring. I brace one of my palms on the saddle, blinking hard as I wait for the head rush to clear.
I thought I ate enough to feel better, but my whole body is begging me to curl up on the ground and close my eyes.
“Hey.”
I look over my shoulder and find Tess has already dismounted and walked up beside me with Nana in tow.
“You need to sit down.”
She keeps her voice low enough that none of the guests will hear, but her forehead is furrowed with a stern, silent warning that she’ll argue louder if I don’t agree.
I glance at the riders, who are all craning their necks to watch the sun sink towards the horizon.
I’ll have to move fast if I don’t want them to miss the sunset.
I don’t know if I can move fast.
“Okay.” I reach to grab Nana’s reins from Tess. “I’ll tie these two up, and then I’ll sit down for a minute. You’re okay to get the rest done? The lead ropes are in my saddlebags. To make a quick release knot, you just have to?—”
“Jacinthe, I am a farrier, you know,” Tess says with a grin that’s somewhere between amused and exasperated. “I can hitch a horse to a post.”
My face gets hot. Of course she knows how to do that.
“Right. Yeah. Okay.”
I keep my ears trained to Tess’s instructions as she walks all the riders through how to get down one by one. She’s patient and thorough, using the same steadying voice she’s been bossing me around with all night.
Once the horses are secured, the guests head over to start snapping photos by the edge of the ridge.
Ridge is an overstatement; it’s more like a gentle slope, but the rocky terrain means there’s a spectacular view of the Laurentians.
The sun is a blazing ruby semi-circle still hovering just above the peaks of the mountains.
Pink rays streak the sky and turn the autumn leaves into brilliant jewel tones so vibrant it almost hurts to look at them.
“That’s really something, isn’t it?” Tess says.
I’m sitting on a boulder taking sips from my water bottle. I stare at the back of her head as she takes in the view. She’s wearing one of the derpy-looking fluorescent helmets for the guests, since her own riding helmet is still buried in one of her moving boxes.
“I’ll have to get Shel out here,” she adds.
I told Tess her daughter should come along tonight, but Shel turned down the invitation to do some reading instead. My mom is keeping an eye on her.
“Any time,” I tell Tess.
She’s still watching the horizon.
“The sky isn’t like this back where I grew up,” she says.
“I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true.
I noticed it right away when Shel and I came out here to visit in the summer.
It feels…bigger, but also closer, like all that space is just waiting for me to grab it.
Out here, I feel like I could reach up and touch the sky. ”
She rises onto her tiptoes, stretching her fingertips up as high as she can.
When she turns to face me, the glow of the sunset illuminates her profile in shimmering gold.
My breath catches.
She shouldn’t be able to look that good with a neon orange helmet plastering her hair to her forehead.
She laughs to herself and shakes her head. “I’m not making any sense, am I?”
She walks over to claim a spot beside me on the rock. I’m still too stunned by the sight of her sun-kissed face to speak.
“How you feeling?” she asks once she’s settled next to me.
“Better,” I answer. It’s easier to talk about something practical. “Sitting helped. I just really need a good night’s sleep. That’s all. Thanks for helping with the horses.”
“You should let me help more.”
There’s a threatening note to her voice that makes me laugh.
“You’re bossy tonight, hein ?”
She glares. “I’m serious. Let me take on some of the barn chores. You and your mom are already going above and beyond for us. It’s the least I could do.”
I stare into the sunset instead of answering.
All that’s left is a glinting sliver of fiery light sitting like a tiara on the crest of the mountain.
The tourists were laughing and posing for photos a few seconds ago, but now they’ve all fallen into a hush, eyes trained on the horizon like they’re listening to a sermon at church.
The sun sinks faster and faster towards the blink-and-you’ll-miss-it-moment when it disappears behind the trees, leaving nothing but a candy pink sky in its wake.
The tourists cheer.
“Okay,” I tell Tess.
She turns her head to look at me, and my breath catches.
The sun might be gone, but she’s still glowing.
I tell myself it’s just the helmet. Neon has that effect on people.
“Really?” she asks.
I shrug, looking down at where I’m squeezing my hands in my lap.
“If you’re already going to be up early in the mornings anyway, then sure. Doing the morning feed and putting the horses out goes way faster with two people.”
I should be saying no. It’s not her job, and I don’t even know if she’ll be around every morning anyway, but I also can’t stay this tired.
I’m sleepy enough that I’m at risk of doing something truly stupid, and stupid on a farm is dangerous. One forgotten buckle or latch can be the difference between life and death—for humans and for horses. I’m not willing to risk either.
If I have help in the mornings, I can get an extra half hour of sleep. It’s not much, but it could help me last until at least after dinner before I start crashing out.
“You don’t have to, though,” I add. “Like, I don’t want you to think that just because you rent the back from us, you have to do everything we ask. I?—”
“You didn’t.”
I pause with my mouth still hanging open. Tess’s lips twitch into a smile.
“You didn’t ask me,” she continues. “I offered. I’m happy to do it.”
Tess doesn’t ask if she can help with the horses once we’re back at the barn.
After we’ve seen the guests off, she heads for the hitching rail and starts untacking without a word.
I figure we’re only going to get in an argument if I tell her to leave it to me, so I settle in to work beside her, the two of us making our way through the line of horses just like we did the day she moved in.
“I feel bad for leaving Shel all alone tonight,” she says while unbuckling Nana’s bridle.
“She seems like she loves to read. She probably had the time of her life tonight,” I say. “The place to herself, a good book, no maudit questions from Mom…”
I pause in the middle of undoing a girth, waiting for Tess to react. My stomach flips as I wonder if I took the joke too far.
The air whooshes out of my lungs when I hear a faint chuckle from around Nana’s other side.
“You’re probably right,” Tess says. “I always get a little clingy just before she has a visit with her dad. He’s got her for Thanksgiving this year.”
My chest seizes up, a squeezing feeling contracting my ribs.
“Oh, so Duke is coming here?” I ask.
“Huh?” Tess squawks, like she’s got no idea what I’m talking about.
“You know,” I urge. “Her dad. Is he coming here to get her, or are you taking her to him?”
Tess steps in front of the hitching rail so she can look at me. She’s silhouetted by one of the flood lights above the barn door, a gleaming silver outline framing her head.
“Did you just call him Duke?” she demands.
“Uh…yeah.” I squint at her. “That is his name, right? Or is it like, King? It’s something like that, right?”
A snort bursts past her lips. She presses a fist to her mouth, her shoulders shaking.
“ Voyons !” I whine. “Don’t laugh at me. Just tell me what it is. I remember it was pretentious. It’s not Prince, is it?”
She snorts again, her cheeks ballooning out as her hand muffles the sound.
She looks like a chipmunk. It’s actually pretty cute.
“Help me out here, man. My guesses are just getting worse.” I give up on brushing the horse I’m working on and lean against the rail to face Tess instead. “Is it Captain? Mayor? M’lord of the English Manor?”
She gives in and drops her hand so she can clutch her stomach while letting out a belly laugh that echoes through the yard.
I try to look offended, but I end up laughing too.
“No,” she says between hiccups, “but you were pretty close with that last one.”
I tilt my head and give her an expectant look.
“Fine,” she says. “His name is Baron.”
Now it’s my turn to snort.
“ Ben là ,” I drawl, shaking my head “No. Really? I don’t remember it being that bad.”
“Sorry to say, but that really is his name.”
I make a tsk sound and go back to my grooming.
“Well, you boned the dude, not me.”
Tess lets out a bark of shocked laughter this time. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a real smart ass?”
I pretend to flip some invisible long hair over my shoulder. “All the time, chérie .”
I don’t think I’ve called her chérie before. It was a joke, but I still have to turn my face away when my cheeks start to burn.
Tess gets back to her tasks, moving on to the horse next to mine.
“Well, to answer your question from before you started berating my life choices,” she says, “no. Baron is not coming here. We’re meeting halfway to his parents’ place in Peterborough.
Thankfully, they’ve got their heads screwed on a bit more than he does, so Shel can at least count on Thanksgiving happening. ”
The bitterness in her voice makes me want to drag this dude into the barnyard and sic Joaquin on him.
“Does he bail on her a lot?” I ask.
“He’s only completely missed a visit a couple times,” she answers. “My parents and I chewed him out enough that he hasn’t done it in years, but the visits themselves are usually a let-down for Shel. He just promises so much more than he can deliver.”
“I get that,” I blurt before I can stop myself.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I can’t remember the last time I mentioned my father to even Natalie or Maddie, but Tess seems to break through the fence around him in my mind without even trying.
“I wish I got it,” she says in a dull voice. “It never even entered my mind as a child that my parents could not be together. They’ve always had a very solid marriage, and as much as Baron frustrates me, I don’t know what it’s like to deal with that from your dad.”
She stops moving. I can see the shadow of her legs under the horses.
“Sometimes I have no idea what to say to her,” she mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear
I go still too.
“You don’t have to say the exact right thing every single time,” I tell her. “You just have to be there for her. Be the one thing she can always count on. That’s what matters, and if you ask me, you’re doing a damn good job.”
She stays silent, and I can’t help adding, “I would know.”
When she speaks again, her throat sounds raw.
“Thank you. That…that means a lot.”
She clears her throat, and we focus on our work for the next few minutes. We take turns lugging saddles into the tack room before we begin leading the horses to their stalls.
“So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” I ask while we’re both untying leads. “Are you going back to your parents’ place?”
She shakes her head. “I thought about it, but they’re still busy with their whole downsizing the house thing, and as much as they’d love to see me, I don’t want to put them through the stress of hosting a holiday.
I decided to just book a few clients on and use the long weekend as a chance to get some extra hours in. ”
I make a face. “Well, that’s not very exciting.”
She chuckles. “No. No, I guess it’s not.”
“You should at least come to the Balsam Inn dinner,” I tell her.
We’re both lingering at the hitching rail. There are only two horses left to return to the barn.
“There’s a dinner?” she asks.
“Yeah, on the Sunday. We’re planning on a big outdoor meal. Bonfire. Beer. The works, you know?”
She grins. “That sounds really lovely.”
“Well, that’s that, là .” I clap my hands together. “You are invited, and you can’t say no.”
She brushes her hair out of her eyes. “Okay. That’s that.”
I stare at her forehead, and I wonder what it would feel like to do that myself: brush her hair out of her eyes for her.
I wonder what it would feel like to run my finger along her jaw.
Then I shake my head and turn to start untying the final lead ropes, bringing this evening with Tess to an end.