8. Ramona
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Ramona
The mare pulls backward when thunder shakes the barn doors, and I move with her instead of tightening the rope.
“Give her room.” I hold up my free hand as one of the younger hands steps toward us. “She can see the doorway. Let her decide it’s safe.”
Rain runs beneath my collar. The mare’s ears turn toward another crash, but she keeps her feet on the ground this time. I wait beside her shoulder until she takes a step toward the light.
“That’s it, sweetheart.” I walk with her, keeping the loose rope clear of my boots. “We’re nearly there.”
The power goes out as we get inside.
Somebody swears farther down the passage. I stay with the mare while the generator starts, bringing back the lights above the stalls.
Julius bought it after one storm left me checking a sick calf by flashlight. He had workers here before the ground dried, and tonight the warm air starts blowing again before I get the mare’s halter off.
“Mrs. Wyatt, are you all right?” A hand stops beside the stall, water running from his hat. “We saw you coming across the pasture.”
“I’m fine.” I shut the door and check the latch. “Did everybody make it inside?”
“All the hands are accounted for.” He lifts the radio from his belt. “Your husband’s at the program barn with Dakota.”
I reach for a towel without looking at him.
“What about the younger horses?” I stroke the mare’s neck while she lowers her nose toward my pocket.
“They’re in, too.” He listens to the radio before clipping it back onto his belt. “You can get dry. We’ve got her from here.”
“I’ll stay until she settles.” I move the towel along her shoulder.
He leaves another towel hanging over the door before walking away.
My boots are full of water. When I bend to check the mare’s legs, my wet shirt pulls tight across my back. I look toward the passage, expecting Julius to appear and ask why I’m still in soaked clothes.
Another hand comes through carrying bedding, and I turn back to the mare.
***
The worst of the rain has passed by the time I cross the yard toward the program barn.
Water streams along the gravel beside the drains. Julius had the whole yard redone so the horses wouldn’t stand in mud, but there are still puddles deep enough to cover my boots.
I hear Julius laughing before I reach the program barn.
He stands beneath the awning with his wet shirt clinging to his chest. Dakota is beside him, holding the cuffs of a jacket over her hands. His old rodeo jacket.
I stop at the corner of the building. The patch on the shoulder is faded, and the torn pocket hangs open near her hip. I used to put my thumb through that hole when I watched him ride.
There are dry coats in every Wyatt truck. Julius bought enough for everybody after a hand came to work without one last winter, and he gave her the jacket he still won’t let me replace.
Dakota notices me first and straightens, pulling her hands from the sleeves.
“There you are.” She tugs the collar closed. “Did you get all the horses inside?”
“They’re in.” I look from the collar to my husband’s face.
Julius stops smiling and comes toward me, reaching for my arm.
“You’re soaked.” He looks me over. “Why didn’t somebody bring you a jacket?”
I look past him at Dakota, and her fingers close around the zipper.
“I can give this back.” She starts pulling it down, then looks at Julius when it catches. “I didn’t bring a spare.”
“Don’t break it.” He reaches toward the zipper before seeming to remember I’m beside him. “You have to hold the bottom straight.”
I know how to work that zipper. I used to stand between his knees while he did it for me.
Dakota gets it loose and starts shrugging out of the jacket.
“Keep it until you’re inside.” I step around Julius toward the door. “There are towels in the tack room here.”
***
He follows me in and closes the door while I pull a sweatshirt from the shelf.
“Ramona, talk to me.” He waits beside the bench as I struggle with my wet cuff.
“I’m trying to get dry.” I free my hand, then turn away to pull my shirt off.
He takes it when I hold it out. I hear him hang it over the rail while I drag the sweatshirt over my head.
“You were shivering when you got here.” He holds out a towel. “I didn’t know you were still outside.”
“You knew I was with the horses.” I take it and squeeze water from my hair.
“They told me everybody was safe.” He looks at my boots, where water is pooling beneath the heels. “I should have checked on you.”
I put the towel down before I twist it any tighter.
“Why that jacket?” I keep my hands against the shelf.
“It was in the office.” He rubs his palm over his jaw. “She was cold. I wasn’t thinking about which one I picked up.”
“You keep that one in the office now?” I turn toward him.
“I brought it down when they hung the old photograph.” He watches my face. “She asked about the patch earlier.”
My fingers curl beneath the edge of the shelf.
“What did you tell her?”
He glances at the door.
“Where I won it.” He lifts one shoulder. “We were waiting for the rain to ease. We talked.”
“About your riding.” I let go of the shelf and fold the wet towel.
“About both of us riding.” He sits on the bench, resting his forearms on his knees. “She used to compete, Ramona. We have that in common.”
I set the towel down.
“I was there when you won that jacket.” I look directly at him.
“I know you were.” He starts to stand, but I hold up my hand.
“Then tell me I was in the story.” My voice catches, and I press my lips together before continuing. “When you told her about it, did you mention me?”
He looks down at his hands, and I wait.
“I told her about the ride.” He lifts his face again. “I wasn’t deliberately leaving you out.”
“I didn’t say you were.” I take a step away from the shelf. “But you didn’t remember to put me in.”
I walk to the bench. I sit to take off my boots because my feet hurt, but the wet leather won’t give, and Julius crouches in front of me without speaking.
I let him ease the first boot off. He sets it upright beside the wall, then takes the other heel in his hand.
“What were you laughing about outside?” I watch him work it loose.
“Dakota got her sleeve caught on the gate.” He puts the boot beside the first. “She thought the horse had hold of her.”
I look at his face. There’s no pause before his answer, no searching for a safer version.
He was just having a good time.
That almost makes it worse.
His phone vibrates in his pocket while he’s still crouched in front of me.
“Leave it.” I hold his gaze.
He keeps his hands beside my legs while it stops. Then it starts again, and his eyes flick toward his pocket.
“I’ll silence it.” He takes it out before I can answer.
Dakota’s name appears on the screen.
I hope I didn’t make things awkward with the jacket. Thank you for talking earlier. I won’t repeat any of it.
My hands go still on my knees. Julius reads the message, then looks at me.
“What isn’t she going to repeat?” I keep my eyes on his face.
He lowers the phone and reaches toward my hand with his free one.
“Nothing about you.” He answers quickly. “We were talking about riding.”
“I didn’t ask whether it was about me.” I lean back until he lets his hand fall. “What did you tell her?”
He looks at the screen again, then locks it.
“That I’m not sure I want to compete again.” He pushes his wet hair back. “I miss it, but I don’t know whether I could do it the way I used to.”
I stare at him. He has argued with me about whether I’d let him ride and told me I worry too much, and he has promised to explain what he wants. This is the first time he has admitted he might be unable to.
“Are you scared?” I ask it quietly, watching his fingers tighten around the phone.
“I don’t know.” He gets up and looks toward the door. “Maybe. It’s been a long time.”
I stand and move closer before I can think about it.
“You could have told me that.” I touch his wrist. “You don’t have to be sure before you talk to me.”
“I know.” He turns his hand beneath mine. “It came out while we were talking about her knee. I wasn’t planning to tell her.”
“Did you ask her to keep it between you?” I look at the phone.
He doesn’t answer immediately.
“Julius.” I release his wrist. “Did you?”
“I said I hadn’t talked to you yet.” He puts the phone on the shelf, keeping his eyes on me. “I didn’t want you hearing it from somebody else again.”
My mouth opens, but I have to take a breath before I can speak.
“So she knew there was a conversation you owed me.” I press my palms against my thighs. “And you both agreed I wouldn’t hear about it.”
“That isn’t how I meant it.” He steps toward me, stopping when I lift my hand.
“I believe you.” I wipe my cheek with my sleeve. “I believe you didn’t walk in there planning to tell her. I believe she listened, and you kept talking.”
He looks down, and I wait until he faces me again.
“Did you want to stay?” I hold the edge of the bench behind me.
His jaw moves before he answers.
“We were having a good conversation.” He speaks quietly, without reaching for me this time.
I nod once because I need him to keep telling the truth.
“Then why didn’t you come find me afterward?” I look at the phone on the shelf. “You already knew what you wanted to say.”
He draws a breath and lets it out.
“I didn’t want to have the whole conversation again.” He looks at me as soon as he says it.
My fingers loosen from the bench, and he takes a step forward.
“Ramona, that came out wrong.” He reaches toward my arm.
I move before he can touch me.
“You had it with her.” I look at his empty hand. “Talking to your wife was going to be the repeat.”