Chapter 6 #3
Of course, it wasn’t. But I didn’t blink it away, even as my eyes blurred.
He turned a page, and I begged the image to look up at me.
His calm energy used to fill the space–any space–seeping into everything and everyone.
It washed over anger and stress, a warm embrace, a strong-armed, sun-soaked cocoon.
When Jason was near, you knew everything would be okay.
This filmy facsimile of him held none of that.
“Mama, I’m firsty.”
I forced my attention to Nina. “Okay. We’ll work on that.”
“Mama? Why is your eyes like that?”
“Like what, baby?”
She stared at me, an old soul stuck in a child’s body.
I rubbed my face, wiped at my eyes, and when I looked back at the bed, he was gone. “I’m just tired.”
Nina gasped. “Mama! Mama! Horsies, me-member?” She launched herself up and teetered to the edge of the mattress to stare out the window.
A weak smile lifted my lips. “I guess we’d better get dressed, so we can meet them?”
“Yes! Yes!” She bounced to the floor, this time landing on her feet, and got dressed in record time.
My eyes kept drifting to the empty headboard as I shook out my wrinkled office wear. If Jason were alive, he’d be laughing. “What the heck are you wearing, boo?” he’d say, before taking an appreciative gander at my butt.
I missed that.
I bent to wedge my foot into cursed heel number one before helping Nina put on yesterday’s dirty shirt. Once in the kitchen, my eyes fell on the only food-safe container available–the empty beer can in the sink. Would it be wrong to offer her water in that?
“I wanna banana,” she whined, hanging on my leg.
“You said you were thirsty.” I rinsed the can and refilled it from the tap. A sniff and a cringe later, I dumped it and tried again. The sharp sting of sulfur remained. She won’t drink this. I didn’t even want to drink it.
Nina heaved her weight onto me. “Banaaanaaa!”
The flashing clock on the microwave lied–it couldn’t be 2:43. I glanced out the RV window. The picturesque white Craftsman with black shutters stood like a mission on El Camino Real. It struck an odd juxtaposition beside utilitarian stables made of galvanized steel and corrugated aluminum.
“Tell you what, Crackerjack?” I led Nina to the door. “Let’s see the horses, then Mama will get her purse and buy you a big bunch of bananas. Deal?”
“Yay!”
Despite her initial enthusiasm, I had to drag Nina behind me as we approached the animals. “It’s okay. They can’t hurt you, see? They’re fenced in.”
In the nearest corner stall, a beautiful gray Andalusian with a mercury-threaded mane nosed at an empty feed bucket. She was an animal that emerged from the mist, regal and mysterious, a creature of legends and myth.
Well, she would’ve been … Mud caked halfway up her leg. The heavy scent of manure hung in the air.
They need to clean the stalls.
We inch-wormed into the stable; me stepping forward, Nina pulling back until we stood under the aluminum roof in the aisle between the two rows of enclosures, four on each side.
Half were empty. Plywood walled off the first stall on our left.
From my tiptoes, I spotted tack and tools hanging inside.
Next on the left lived a large black Tennessee Walker, but he moved away as we came near.
An empty stall separated him from a brown-white Painted at the end, who tossed her head and paced the narrow space.
“See that?” I pointed to the agitated equine. “When they act like that, you keep away.”
Nina tried to crawl into my skirt.
“Are you scared?”
She nodded.
I picked her up and took her to the stalls on the right, toward someone I recognized.
In the daytime, his spotted pattern gave him an ombre effect, transitioning from a smooth light gray at his thick center to dark charcoal ears, muzzle, and hooves.
My fingers brushed against the padlock that hung from the latch of his gate–the only gate that had one.
Chuck lifted his head and sniffed the air before meandering over to greet us.
The languid movement reminded me of Eli.
“Good morning.” I offered him the back of my hand, explaining to Nina how we greet unfamiliar horses. “Be calm. Let them smell you.” He nudged his nose against my skin, lighting a unique thrill I’d somehow forgotten. “Aren’t you handsome?”
As I ran my palm down his muscular neck, time slowed, and my pulse with it.
The world fell away. It was only Nina, Chuck, and me.
The shift of hooves, the flinch of muscle, his warm breath billowing on my chest. A wave of acceptance washed over me.
There were no expectations here, no deadlines, no judgements.
I twisted, bringing Nina closer so she could pet him, but she reared back as Chuck slid his head through the bars to nip at my blouse. Nina whined, kicking at his long nose and square teeth.
I grabbed her leg as Chuck jerked his head back into the enclosure. “Careful! He’s just saying hi.” Nina locked her arms around my neck in a choke-hold and unleashed a high-pitched wail of distress.
I retreated to the center of the aisle. “I guess they're a lot bigger up close, huh?”
When she nodded into my neck, another seed of guilt burrowed. If I’d been stronger, she would have never known a life without horses. I shouldered us and all my regrets out of the stable.
One thing at a time.
First, I had to deal with Steven. And convince Terry I could handle Hidden Meadows.