Chapter 19
Ava
Bill opened the door the next morning, and Nina ran right in. I greeted him with a “Good morning!” while scanning the room for Eli.
“Did you see who came in last night?” Bill asked, a secret glint behind his glasses. “If you have a few minutes, you should go look.”
“Where am I looking?”
“The arena.”
I discovered August out there, observing a new horse: a beautiful, deep bay with a midnight mane. It loped anxious patterns in the dirt, switching directions often. Sweat collected on his flank.
I slung my arms over the metal fence. “Poor thing.”
“Sí. He is not happy,” August agreed. “But he responds to commands. I will try to work with him later.”
“Who does he belong to?”
My friend cut me a devilish grin.
“He’s available?”
“A rescue. I don’t know the details. Eli–his sister brought him last night.”
“Eli has a sister?” As I said it, I vaguely recalled him mentioning her at the strip mall.
“Sí. She left already. I think she is a little … salvaje.”
“Really? I got the impression Eli was the wild one.” I watched the Arabian change directions again, taut muscles strong and agile. Dust lifted in a haze under his hooves.
“He will make a good mount, no?” August observed.
Definitely. “What about as a stud?”
“Maybe.”
One way to populate a barn was to build a herd. But I knew nothing about animal husbandry.
Luke dragged a half-filled plastic water bucket across the expanse of dirt to the ring and shimmied it under the lowest bar.
“Thank you, my friend,” August called to him.
The black-clad teen stalked away without a reply.
“Yeesh, he must be baking.” I drew my eyes back to the newcomer. “How long are they keeping him?”
August shrugged.
I held up a hand to shield the sun from my face. “He can’t stay here. It’ll get too hot. And what if one of these mystery boarders comes to use the arena?”
“Yes,” August agreed again.
I had a sneaking suspicion several ideas already bounced around in that clever head of his. The Arabian stopped at the water bucket, huffing, then finally dipped his head to drink.
“So, how’d it go between you two?” Did Eli keep his promise?
“Eh. He’s no good.”
“What?” The word hit a worry-doused high note. “What’s wrong with him?”
August’s eyes slanted to mine. “I am talking about the guy who comes for work.”
Oh.
“Amor. You kill me.”
“Sorry, I thought you meant–That’s right, Eli had someone coming out today. What’s wrong with him? He’s not trainable?”
“He wanna put the stallion next to the mares.” August tsked and shook his head. “You gotta have some sense, no?”
“Good point.”
“It’s gonna cost money, but maybe we build a space? Big enough so you can put another horse? The gray one is calm. He will settle the stallion.”
“Chuck?” I glanced at the stable to catch the mischief-maker chewing at the gate latch again. “That’s not a bad idea.”
A larger space would benefit all the horses.
My eyes drifted over the blank canvas in front of me, and things started popping up everywhere.
“What about a few other easy upgrades? A sign at the entrance. A trail marker there?” I pointed toward where Eli and I had ridden.
“It could draw boarders to this location, highlighting access up the mountain. And some shade structures wouldn’t be too hard– What? ”
“Nothing.” August forced the sides of his mouth down when they clearly wanted to go up.
“No, not nothing. What’s with that look?”
“I am smiling. I can smile, no?”
“Mhmm. I’m just saying, this place has potential.” Though maybe I needed to tone it down. This wasn’t my ranch, after all. “I have to go fill out employment forms. Have you seen Eli?”
“He is inside, I think.”
I found Eli sitting on the couch in the den, head back. Sleeping? When the French doors clicked closed behind me, he cracked an eye open and rasped, “You headed out?”
“I was planning on it.”
In a fantastic portrayal of Frankenstein’s monster, he leaned forward and used his hands to push himself up slowly from the cushions.
I frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yup. Probably sitting too long.” He seemed pale, though it could’ve been a trick of the light.
“Nina’s with Bill,” I said, “but I can take her with me.” Something seemed off about him.
“It’s all good. Go.”
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be.”
“All good,” he repeated. “We’ll be here.”
A prickle inched up my spine, but I took my leave.
As I drove away from the house, the prickle became a shiver, then a chill. I used to have such a strong intuition. Was it warning me now? Maybe Eli just had a late night visiting with his sister? Kicked back a few too many beers at the reunion?
To ease my nerves, I ran through my recent accomplishments. I’d frozen all my accounts and changed all my passwords. Terry had my plan revisions and a vague explanation for my missing preapproval. And I’d unpacked two boxes last night!
But waiting for my credit to settle would mean I’d need to provide a more recent paycheck for the loan. An undoubtedly smaller one. Which would affect my loan limit. Ugh! I groaned into the ceiling of my truck while I waited for the light to turn green.
Would Terry entertain a smaller offer? No, Ava, you can’t do that.
He’d already have to sacrifice upgrading his trailer: a rickety 1980’s Terry Taurus fifth-wheel that no one’s even heard of anymore.
Duct tape and sheer determination were all holding the thing together.
Would it survive a cross-country tour like Terry dreamed of taking in his retirement?
I frowned as I pulled into the lot at Rock ‘N Roll.
If he accepted the corporate offer, he could easily afford a top-of-the-line unit, maybe even one of those Sprinter vans.
I slid out of my Chevy and locked the door.
Something to worry about later. First, I needed to make this job official.
Three hours later, I hopped back into my smoldering truck.
Next week, my training began. No more procrastinating–I needed permanent childcare.
By the time I parked next to Eli’s truck, I’d accomplished a full-on sweat.
I loved Roxy, but the old girl had no frills.
No AC, no power windows. Just a knobby radio and ancient power steering.
The cool house beckoned me as I let myself in and removed my shoes, following familiar voices to the den.
Eli and Nina sat on the floor at opposite sides of the coffee table, half a deck of cards between them.
Most of the other half fanned out in Eli’s hand.
The color seemed to have returned to his cheeks.
“You look better,” I told him.
He sifted through his cards. “What do you mean?”
“You seemed off this morning.”
“Oh. My sister came last night. She’s a hurricane. Quick in, quick out. Lots of drama.” He looked across the table at Nina. “Do you have any threes?”
“What’s that?” she asked.
With a smile, he flipped his card to show her.
Nina dutifully shuffled through her hand, which she held in a single stack, taking one card off at a time and setting each on the table for everyone to see. When she finished, she looked up and grinned. “Go fish!”
The scene warmed my insides, like that first toothless baby-smile, or handing over the keys to a proud new homeowner. Like the trail ride Eli had taken me on days earlier. I was seriously questioning the whole keep-my-distance approach.
He took a card from the pond.
“Did she nap?” I asked, conversationally.
“Yup.” No details, no upward glance.
I tried again. “What did you guys do today?”
“Little of everything,” he clipped. “Nina,” he prompted, “your turn.”
Okay then.
“Since you’re occupied, I think I’ll make a few calls.” I trudged back up to the kitchen, trying not to take his lack of response personally.
The timing sucked. Every worthwhile preschool in our area had a waitlist longer than the Gila River. Or asked for tuition well above my price range. I expanded my radius, but heard the same spiel: “We’ll call you if a space opens up.”
“I’m happy to watch her,” Bill offered as the Keurig hissed and gurgled. At some point, he’d wandered into the kitchen to make coffee. He tossed the used pod in the garbage and claimed his cup.
I needed long-term, but in the interim? “Thank you. Maybe just this week? I’m only doing half-days to start.” I chewed on the back of my pen, pulling up another daycare from the map on my phone.
“The hours don’t matter to me. Nina’s a hoot.” He disappeared into the pantry and returned with a pack of Famous Amos cookies. “Want one?”
“Sure.”
As I nibbled on a chocolate chip cookie, I debated.
Should I seek something closer to Hidden Meadows?
Once I took over the ranch, trekking to the city would eat up half the morning.
But with no clear timeline and so many unknowns, how could I make the right choice?
Did I rely on Bill until we closed escrow?
No. I couldn’t do that. It was one thing to ask a doting grandfather to watch his grandchild, but a new friend?
Perhaps he’d let me pay him? My thoughts wandered to the envelope of cash, probably still hidden in Eli’s center console, and I suspected, “like father, like son.”
Needing a break from childcare searches, I joined Marley to make banana nut muffins.
I played dumb, asking her to read me the recipe aloud.
It forced her to follow it, step by step.
She may have rolled her eyes at the process, but when she shoved the fresh-out-of-the-oven muffin in her mouth, it was worth it.
Her eyes lit. “Oh, my God! These are really good.”
I reached over and took one from the cooling rack. They were still hot, and half the bottom stuck to the cupcake liner. Fluffy, sweet, and utterly delightful.
“You’re right!” I grabbed two more. “We should go find Bill. I bet he’ll want one.”
Marley tucked her head down, but I saw it. A stunning smile. For the first time since I’d met her, she looked her age.
Thursday, we tried zucchini bread. And Friday, when I returned from Rock ’N Roll, a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies greeted me.