22. Jacinthe #2
It is a half-baked scheme I’m not taking seriously, but for some reason, I can’t keep myself from telling her about it.
“I was talking to Tess about something the other day…”
I explain the idea of opening a boarding stable and how Tess thinks there are plenty of people in the area looking for somewhere to keep their horses.
I tell her I obviously don’t have time to open another business—not all on my own, at least—but I can’t keep from pointing out all the ways the idea does make sense.
We have a half-empty barn with plenty of stalls.
I already know everything I need to know about horse care and barn management.
The trail riding business is slowing down for the season, and bringing in boarders would allow us to keep making money off La Grange Rouge all year instead of praying the summer is enough to see us through.
“We wouldn’t even need to advertise,” I tell Maman . “Tess already has so many connections from her farrier work she says she could get the barn filled just by word of mouth.”
I expect Maman to look shocked and have a hundred questions, but instead, all she does is stand there with her arms crossed, nodding like I’m reciting a script she’s already read.
“I’ve thought about taking boarders, you know,” she says after I’ve been silent for a few seconds.
I tilt my head and squint at her. “You have?”
She nods. “Yes, but I never thought you’d want to.”
I squint even harder, and she lets out a soft laugh.
“We’d have to hire help, and I can barely get you to let me help you, never mind a stranger,” she explains.
I guess I can’t blame her for that. Even the thought of giving someone else a set of keys to the barn makes me want to build a ten-foot wall around the property just to keep them out.
People leave. My father left. My uncles got busy with their own lives and families. Even my maudit cousin left the back of our house to go work in Alberta, and we only just barely got through the scramble of finding someone to take his place.
If I run this boarding business, I’d need at least someone to help me do it, and someone could always leave too.
Unless they love this place as much as I do.
Unless it’s home for them too.
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be a stranger,” I blurt.
Maman blinks at me, her eyes widening like I’ve finally said something that’s surprised her.
“I just thought…”
I trail off and stare down at the deck boards. Even putting this into words feels stupid, but ever since Natalie suggested it as a joke at the pumpkin patch, I haven’t been able to shake the image out of my head.
“Well, maybe Tess would want to help run it.”
I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth and then rush to add an explanation.
“She’s already out at the barn with me every day. Maybe she’d want to actually be part of the business. It could be good for her. She’s always stressed about not getting home in time for Shel. Maybe she wouldn’t have to take so many farrier appointments if she was making money here too.”
Tess working here makes sense. It’s logical. It’s got nothing to do with how I feel about her—or what I’ve done with her.
“You might be right.”
Maman nods too, staring into the yard again before she turns back to me with a look in her eyes I can’t read.
“What?” I demand.
“She’s special, isn’t she?”
My pulse kicks up.
“Who is special?”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “Tess. She just…fits. Here. With us.”
We both look towards the back of the house, where the rectangle of soft yellow light from Tess’s window is still spilling out onto the darkening lawn.
“Yeah. She does,” I murmur.
Then I cough and rush to backpedal as my cheeks begin to burn.
“I mean, she’s very helpful, and?—”
“That’s not what I meant,” Maman interrupts. “It’s not just what she does. It’s who she is. Her and Shel.”
I look over at the light from the windows again while I try to get my face under control.
They’re the same lights from when my cousin lived in the back. They make the same shape on the lawn. They glow just as bright as they did then, but for some reason, the sight of them never warmed me up inside like they do now.
“Yeah. Okay. They are special,” I admit. “Both of them.”
Maman clears her throat.
“You know, if Tess is very special to you, then?—”
“She’s not.”
My voice echoes in the yard. Maman ’s eyebrows leap up her forehead.
“I mean, not like that,” I add, my heart racing even faster now. “We’re not…I mean, we don’t…”
I flap my arms around to try and show Maman just how ridiculous she’s being.
“She’s just a good fit here, like you said. Stop making it weird, okay?”
She lifts her hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay. I’m just saying, I wouldn’t want it to seem like we’re taking advantage of Tess. She already does a lot. If you want her to help with a boarding business, I think she should be more than an employee.”
She gives me a knowing look, but I have no idea what I’m supposed to be knowing.
“I think she should be your partner.”
I jerk back like she’s just shouted at me.
“My partner?” I yelp.
I know she doesn’t mean it like that , but it still takes me a few seconds to calm down enough to realize she’s not telling me I should walk up to Tess’s door and propose marriage or something.
“Yes,” she says, while shooting me some side-eye. “Like you, Madeleine, and Natalie at the inn. You are equals. You make decisions together. I think maybe Tess is the right person to help us make decisions here.”
I can’t stop my eyes from bugging out of my head, and all I manage to say is, “Oh.”
Maman takes a couple steps over to the front of the porch and wraps her hand around the banister.
“I know it hasn’t been long, but I trust her. I trust her enough to give her a chance with this, if she wants to take it.” She pauses and looks over her shoulder at me. “Do you?”
Until about five minutes ago, I wasn’t even sure about the idea of a boarding business, and now we’re acting like it’s a done deal and we’ll be asking Tess to sign a contract tomorrow morning.
“It’s, uh, a lot to think about.”
Maman motions for me to come to her. When I reach her side, she gives my shoulder a squeeze.
“I know, ma belle . It is a lot. Maybe we should think about it, though. Maybe this is a chance we shouldn’t miss.”
She gives me another squeeze, and I wonder if she’d be saying the same thing if she knew what Tess and I have been up to and how many lines we’ve crossed.
This situation would only add new lines. Even asking Tess about it would add new lines.
I wonder how many lines you can draw between two people before they get too thick to break through.
All of a sudden, a wave of overwhelm rocks through me, so strong and fast my legs tremble like I’m getting pulled into water way over my head.
This is too much.
This is all way too much for tonight.
“I should go do the barn chores.”
I trudge down the porch steps, but I pause when I hear the front door creak.
“Let me get my coat,” Maman says.
I spin around to face her. “No, Maman . You stay. I can handle it.”
She shakes her head and pulls the door open wider. “I feel good today, and dinner has half an hour left in the oven. I’m coming to help you.”
I suck in a breath and do my best not to raise my voice.
“Maman—”
She lifts a finger to cut me off.
“You know, if you want to do this boarding thing, you’re going to have to practice letting people help you.” She props a fist on her hip, and I can tell she’s not budging until I say yes. “So start with me.”
It takes a few seconds of standing there glowering while I try and fail to think of a comeback, but eventually, I give in.
“Fine.”
She beams at me.
“And maybe act a little more happy about it,” she chirps.
I keep glowering. “That’s pushing it.”