2. Tammy
TAMMY
Holding hope in a bucket… and the bucket’s full of holes.
The alarm blared at five-thirty in the morning, yanking me from a dream where Mystery and Sassafras were happily frolicking in a field together while I counted stacks of cash.
Though I knew it was just my imagination, and that I was desperately clinging to a fantasy, I let myself bask in the joy the falsehood brought me as I stretched and yawned.
Of course, fantasies are fleeting things.
And reality hits harder than a wrecking ball.
Or the cold floor under my bare feet.
Another day, another desperate attempt to play equine matchmaker.
I dressed in the dark, my movements automatic after months of the same routine: jeans, flannel shirt, boots that had seen better days.
I dragged myself downstairs, poured coffee from a day-old pot, and warmed it too little before adding sugar that couldn’t dissolve properly.
Lastly, I snagged a handful of baby carrots from the fridge to shove in my pants pockets before I shuffled out to the porch.
Outside, the first hint of dawn painted the horizon in washed-out watercolors, like God himself was too tired to use the good paints this morning.
I didn’t blame him. On mornings when things looked too sunny and saturated, it gave me too heavy a dose of false hope.
I drank the horrid coffee quickly, hoping it would give me enough pick-me-up to get through another day, and I left the mug on the cracked, flaking porch railing.
As I walked down the stairs and began crossing the gravelly ground, sweat quickly beaded on my forehead despite the early hour.
It wasn’t even that warm yet, but the combination of Kansas humidity and the crushing weight of anxiety would make anyone perspire.
Today had to work. It simply had to. I'd given them three more days, and this was day one of my final countdown.
The stable was quiet as I entered, the only sounds the soft shuffling of hooves on straw and the occasional snort.
I moved past the stalls, the horses all pushing their heads over their respective gates, and I went to the feed bags hanging on the wall, specialized food containers beneath—those had the pellets and needed refilling, but right now I wanted the hay which is what I fed all three horses in the morning.
I filled Artie’s slow feed hay bag first and carried it over to him, slinging it over his gate so the weight was on the outside, keeping the feed bag suspended on his side.
Sassafras next. Then Mystery, whose eyes gleamed in the dim light as I approached his stall, watching me with that imperial disdain that had become his trademark.
"Morning, Your Highness," I said. “I’m here to feed you for free, seeing as you refuse to make a baby.”
His ears twitched, but otherwise he waited, knowing I was there to serve him.
I draped his feed bag over his stall gate and then left the horses to eat while I went to the supply barn to check my inventory.
I didn’t want to, mostly because I couldn’t afford to buy anything right now.
If I found I was low on something important, then I’d have to rob Peter to pay Paul for the millionth time.
Back at the stables thirty minutes later, I grabbed a harness and, this time, went to Mystery first. He snorted, backing away from the harness held in my hand as if it were covered in toxic waste.
"Don't start," I warned, my voice low and steady despite the frustration already building in my chest. "We're doing this, whether you like it or not. Sassy is a literal doll and you’re a grumpy asshole. You don’t even deserve her."
After five minutes and a lot of coaxing, I finally had Mystery haltered and ready to go.
I let him out into the connected, fenced pasture first by opening his exterior stable gate.
He was in a mood, and I wanted to give him a few moments to run out some energy before we gave this doomed romance another try.
I didn’t have to bribe Sassafras. By contrast, she practically threw herself at her stall door when I approached, eager for attention.
"Easy, girl," I murmured, putting a training lead on her instead of a halter. She wasn’t the one I might need to manhandle if things went South. "Try not to seem so desperate. Guys hate that."
The pasture ground was dew soaked and the world fell silent as I swung open Sass’s exterior gate to let her prance out and join Mystery.
I really didn’t understand why he hated her so much.
She was a sweet thing. Though, she’d given as good as she took a few times, teaching Mystery that she wasn’t a complete pushover.
Artie whinnied as I began to stride out through Sassafras’s gate. I backed into view and smiled at him. “I’ll come let you out just as soon as I know those two aren’t going to be at each other’s throats.”
He stared at me with his docile, shiny eyes and pulled his head back over his inner gate.
The rising sun hit the fence posts, light inching across the grass farther and farther. I strolled slowly to Mystery, keeping in front of him, making sure he could always see me. “Now, we’re going to take this real slow, okay?”
He stood stock still as I took the reins. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, or if he was biding his time until he could bite me properly. But, as I started walking, he followed behind with little hesitation. Maybe we were getting somewhere. Hope fluttered in my chest.
“We’re just gonna walk over to Sass. See if we can’t get within a few feet of her before you act like a jerk.” I kept talking to the horse, trying to put him at ease.
But as we got nearer to the mare, Mystery's reaction was immediate and depressingly familiar. His ears pinned back flat against his skull, and he snorted with such disdain I could practically hear him saying, "You expect me to mate with her?"
“Just a little closer. You can do this. She’s a great girl.” I pulled, but now he was locked in place, refusing to follow me. I tugged at the reins and, in response, Mystery turned sharply, presenting his hindquarters to us both—the equine equivalent of a middle finger.
"Oh, for God's sake," I muttered, dropping the reins and walking over to Sassafras. The mare lowered her head as I lifted my hand to stroke down her nose. "Give her a chance, you stuck-up jerk."
When I stopped petting her, Sassafras nuzzled my pockets for treats.
When I didn't immediately produce something yummy, she lost interest and wandered away. By this time, Mystery had turned around. He wasn’t one to be left out when it came to treats.
He took a tentative step forward. Now, I did reach into my pocket and grab two of the baby carrots I’d taken from the kitchen.
Mystery moved another foot or two nearer. Sassafras, interest piqued again, started moving my way again… closer to Mystery. The stallion stiffened, muscles tensing beneath his glossy coat.
"That's it," I encouraged, stepping between them and holding both arms up, hands holding carrots. "Just get to know each other. No pressure."
For a brief, hopeful moment, Sassafras continued to approach Mystery, her steps tentative but steady.
Mystery even took another two steps. Then, as if remembering their mutual antipathy, Mystery let out a warning snort.
Sassafras responded by braying loudly, her hind hooves stamping the ground roughly.
They looked like they were going to get into it again, and I didn’t have the mental energy.
"Gosh damn it!" I hissed, tossing the carrots in opposite directions so they’d be distracted and move farther away from each other. "What is wrong with you two?"
For the next hour, I tried every trick I could think of. I led Mystery around the paddock on a lunge line, hoping the sight of him moving with such power and grace might ignite some interest in Sassafras. The mare watched from the corner, looking more bored than aroused.
When that failed, I reversed tactics, putting Sassafras on the lunge line while Mystery grazed nearby. The stallion deliberately turned his back, focusing intently on a patch of clover as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.
Sweat trickled down my spine as the sun climbed higher, the morning coolness burning away to reveal another scorching Kansas day. My throat was dry, my patience thinner than my wallet, even if I cashed out my bank account in ones and fives to fold inside it.
"One more try," I muttered, bringing the horses close together again.
This time, Mystery pinned his ears so flat they practically disappeared into his head.
Sassafras, meanwhile, alternated between trying to nuzzle me for treats and kicking out at Mystery when he shifted even slightly in her direction.
It was like watching the world's worst first date, except with fifteen hundred pounds of stubborn horseflesh instead of awkward humans.
And we were way past the first dang date.
That was when I lost it. The pressure of the past months—dwindling hope, the mounting bills, Derek's smug voice echoing in my head—it all crashed down on me in that moment. I ripped my cowboy hat from my head and threw it on the ground with such force that dust puffed up around it.
"You are damn stubborn animals!" I shouted, my voice cracking with frustration as it echoed across the empty pastures. "Do you have any idea what's at stake here? Any concept of what happens if you don't make a baby? We lose everything! Everything!"
Mystery merely tossed his mahogany head, looking almost smug as he trotted away. Sassafras whinnied nervously, retreating to the far side of the paddock. Neither appeared the least bit moved by my outburst.
I stooped to retrieve my hat, dusting it off against my thigh before jamming it back on my head. "Fine. New plan. You guys go into the other pasture, duke it out or get along, I don’t care. But Artie deserves to enjoy himself without you guys stressing him out.”