Chapter 34
MAGGIE
The note from Cassie is pinned to the stable wall.
Penny needs her mane brushed every day or it gets tangled. June likes the soft brush first then the curry comb. Don't forget the apples. Hooves on Wednesday. Thank you!
The week has slid by in feed runs and small repairs.
On Sunday, Sloane turned up at the gate to hide from Ruthie.
She took me up on my offer — made coffee, read her book on my porch with her feet up on the railing, helped me with the eggs in the afternoon — and I spent the day inventing reasons to walk past the house.
The horses don't need two people. I could brush Penny and June in under an hour on my own, and I'm fully aware of that as I walk to the pig barn to fetch Sloane anyway.
I find her leaning on the pitchfork, finishing a bottle of water.
"I've got something different for you today," I say. "This will do in here for now, leave the rest. We're going to see the horses."
She looks up. "Wait — those are yours? I thought they belonged to someone else. That girl — I spoke to her on Sunday and she talked about them like they were hers."
"That's Cassie," I say, beckoning for Sloane to follow me.
"She's sixteen, lives down the road with her mom in the trailer park past the gas station.
She's wanted a horse since she could walk, and she's never going to get one so she comes here instead.
Mucks them out, brushes them, feeds them, even rides them.
They love her in a way they don't love anyone else, and since we're always super busy here, it works out well for me. "
"Where is she?" Sloane asks.
"San Diego, visiting her grandmother for a week. Which is why you and I are now in the horse business."
We come around the back fence and onto the higher ground at the far end of the property. Penny and June are standing under two big sycamores, watching us approach. Penny's ears come forward. June's stay flat for a second and then slowly come up.
"Hi girls," I say, then turn to Sloane. "Chestnut is Penny.
Gray is June. They came from a sanctuary up in Madera that was closing.
The woman who ran it had been doing it for thirty years but her husband died and she couldn't keep it going on her own.
She had six horses. I took two and four went to a bigger rescue in Oregon that had more space and more money than I do. "
"Do you ever ride them?" Sloane asks, carefully reaching out to stroke Penny's neck.
"No. They're too skittish. Cassie's the only one they'll tolerate."
I take the grooming kit out of the box by the gate. Body brush, soft brush, curry comb, mane comb. A small tin of leather balm for the halters. I hand Sloane the body brush.
"Penny first. She likes a firm hand and she'll lean into the brush.
Don't be tentative — if you're tentative she'll think you're nervous, and then she'll get nervous, and we'll have a problem.
Stand at her shoulder, not in front of her, never directly behind her.
You always want her to be able to see you.
Long strokes in the direction of the coat.
Start at the neck and work down to her shoulder, her side, her flank.
Don't go near her hindquarters until I tell you. "
"Got it." Sloane places the brush against Penny's neck, takes a breath, and starts brushing in long, slow strokes. Penny lowers her head a fraction. Her ears go soft, and Sloane's shoulders drop in turn. Bits of dust come off in small clouds.
I take the soft brush over to June, who is the more anxious of the two. If Penny is calm, June is calm though, so I keep one eye on Sloane and Penny while I work, and June settles.
"Maggie," Sloane says, "when this is over and I'm back in LA and got my life together again, I'm going to make a big donation. I'll talk to my father."
I smile. "That's kind and I won't say no. But honestly, we're okay for now. The crash, the news cycle, all of it — donations went up after it happened, and they've stayed up so we're not doing too bad." I chuckle. "So in a way, you've already done your bit."
Sloane turns her face into Penny's shoulder.
"It's the least I can do," she says, after a moment. "And in the meanwhile, I'm going to have a good hard think about what to do with my life. I need something to focus on. Any ideas? Because I really don't have a clue."
I move the brush down to June's flank. "You studied art history, didn't you? You said you dropped out. Is art something you'd want to come back to?"
Sloane shakes her head. "Honestly, no. I ran a gallery for a few months, when my parents tried to set me up with something respectable.
I thought I'd love it but I didn't. I don't know if it was the art or the gallery or the people — or if I was just bored, but it didn't take.
" She pauses. "If I'm honest, the thing I've always been good at is marketing.
The endorsements, the partnerships — I made a lot of money from social media before all this.
It wasn't exactly meaningful work, but I know what people with money want and I know how they like to be approached.
The language, the visuals, the message. It's a stupid little skill. "
"It's not a stupid little skill, Sloane. People get degrees in that and most of them are still bad at it."
"Hmm…" She brushes in silence for a moment. "Yeah. Maybe it's something to think about."
I move from June's side around behind her, giving her plenty of room and putting a hand on her flank as I go so she knows where I am. She flicks her tail at a fly and Penny is still standing with her head low and her eyes half-closed, completely content to have Sloane brushing her.
"Come around to her front," I say. Penny seems unusually docile with Sloane and I need to know I'm not imagining it. "Slowly. Don't surprise her."
Sloane comes around and Penny lifts her head to look at her.
"Now hold your hand out below her face, palm up."
She does. Penny stretches her neck and breathes against Sloane's palm, twice, then pushes her nose into Sloane's hand. Sloane's whole face changes.
"Maggie. She just — oh my god."
"I know. I've never seen her do that with anyone but me and Cassie." I have to look away for a second, because Sloane's face has gone soft and she's smiling. I clear my throat. There's a lump in it, suddenly, and my eyes are prickling.
"Penny likes you," I say. "Turns out animals are another thing you're good at."
Sloane glances over at me. "Maggie, are you crying?"
"So. I mean…" I press the heel of my hand against the corner of my eye. "She just doesn't do this. That's all."
Sloane looks back at Penny, and then her own eyes well up. "Oh, great. Now we're both at it."
I walk over and stand next to her at Penny's shoulder. Penny looks from me to Sloane and back, with the equine equivalent of what on earth is going on, why are you crying, I am literally just standing here.
Sloane turns to meet my eyes and there's no way I'm imagining the chemistry between us. She shifts a fraction closer. Not enough that anyone watching would call it anything, but enough that I feel it everywhere. And then she reaches out to wipe a tear from my cheek. Her hand lingers and I let it.
"Maggie," she whispers. "What is this?" She drops her hand and inches back a little like she's afraid of what she'll do.
Her eyes are still on mine and she's looking at me like she wants to kiss me. Eventually I find a breath.
"I don't know what to tell you. None of this makes any sense."
Before I can do something foolish, Penny lifts her head and shakes it, hard — a full-body rattle from the ears down — and the moment breaks.
Sloane shakes her head. "Sorry," she says to Penny. "Were we boring you?"
I laugh, mostly because this is highly awkward and I don't know how to be or what to say. I'm quietly grateful that it's Friday. I need my weekend to put this back where it belongs.