11. Ramona
— ? —
Ramona
Julius finds me beside the training pen with a mug of coffee in one hand and his hat in the other. He waits while I finish fastening June’s halter, then holds the mug over the gate.
“You left before I got downstairs.” He watches me take it. “I thought you might want this before it got cold.”
“You drove across the ranch holding an open mug?” I take a sip, tasting the cinnamon before I look toward his truck.
“I used the cup holder.” He puts his hat on the gatepost. “I’m capable of bringing my wife coffee without hurting anybody.”
“There’s some on your sleeve.” I touch the damp patch near his wrist, and he looks down.
“That happened at the front door.” He turns his arm to inspect it. “I’m still counting this as a success.”
I smile into the mug. He stays beside me while I drink, rubbing June’s forehead when she reaches over the gate.
“The vet can come this afternoon.” He checks my face before continuing. “Does that work for you? I told her I’d make sure you were here.”
“You called her.” I lower the coffee, watching his hand move gently between June’s ears.
“I should have listened when you first told me she was acting differently.” He turns toward me. “I’m sorry you had to keep asking.”
I reach through the gate and catch the front of his shirt. He comes closer without making me pull.
“This helps.” I keep my fingers curled in the fabric while he bends to kiss me.
His mouth is warm, and he takes his time before drawing back. I leave my hand against his chest, feeling him breathe beneath it.
“I’ll meet you here before the vet arrives.” He brushes his thumb over my wrist. “You won’t have to come looking for me.”
I nod and let go so he can retrieve his hat. At the truck, he turns back to check whether I’m still watching. I lift the mug, and he smiles before getting in, and I stay beside June until he drives away.
***
Dakota approaches me in the program barn while I’m hanging a lead rope beside the stalls. I hear her boots, but I finish untangling the rope before turning.
“I was hoping to catch you.” She holds her notebook against her jacket. “Have you got a minute?”
“What do you need?” I rest my hand on the hook while she checks the passage behind her.
“I wanted you to know Julius was clear with me last night.” She looks back at my face. “About keeping our conversations to work. I understand, and I don’t want there to be any awkwardness.”
My hand slips from the hook.
Last night, Julius stood in the arena lot with his phone while I waited in the truck. Then he got in, held out his hand for candy, and drove us home. I never asked what kept him.
“What did he tell you?” I straighten the loose end of the rope, giving myself a reason to look down.
“That he needs to talk to you about the personal things.” Dakota lowers her voice when a hand passes us carrying a bucket. “I respect that. I only wanted you to hear it from me.”
I wait until the man is gone before looking at her again.
“Did you talk here?” I keep my fingers around the rope.
“We spoke earlier in the office. The rest was over messages.” Her eyes move over my face. “I thought he would have told you.”
Heat spreads across my cheeks. I let go of the rope before she can see how tightly I’m holding it.
“I’ll speak to Julius.” I move toward the passage, but she steps aside and keeps talking.
“I hope you know I never wanted to hurt you.” She presses the notebook closer to her stomach. “I was trying to be a friend.”
I stop beside her.
“Then let me hear about my marriage from my husband.” I hold her gaze until she looks down.
“Of course. I’m sorry.” She moves farther out of my way.
I walk past her before she can apologize again. At the outside door, I have to push twice because my palm slips against the handle.
He brought me coffee. He could have told me then.
***
Julius’s truck is already beside the training pen when I get back. The horse trailer is open, and I hear water running in the little washroom before he comes down the steps.
He has changed into a clean shirt. His hair is damp around his ears, and he smiles when he sees me.
“The vet’s on her way.” He dries his hands on a towel. “I thought we could take June down to the lower paddock afterward, if she says it’s all right.”
“Did you talk to Dakota last night?” I stop short of the steps.
He lowers the towel without folding it and puts it on the counter inside the trailer.
“I told her we needed to stop the personal conversations.” He steps down to meet me. “I was going to tell you.”
“She told me.” I watch his eyes close briefly.
“I didn’t ask her to do that.” He reaches toward my arm, but I lift my hand.
“Can I read what you said?” I leave my palm open between us.
Julius looks toward his phone beside the sink. He takes it from the counter, then stays at the bottom of the steps with it in his hand.
“I deleted the conversation.” He meets my eyes, his fingers closing around the phone.
“All of it?” I wait for him to tell me he kept the part she mentioned.
“All of it.” He puts the phone back where it was.
I sit on the trailer step. Julius moves toward me, but I brace my hand against the doorframe, and he stops.
“What did she say to you?” I look at the towel he left on the counter.
“She said she missed talking to me.” He crouches in front of the steps. “I told her I needed to spend more time with you.”
“What else?” I keep looking past him, at the muddy patch near his truck.
“She said she missed her friend. She wanted to know whether it was because of her.” He rubs his palms against his jeans. “I told her I needed to talk to my wife about those things.”
I turn back to his face.
“Did you tell her those conversations mattered?”
His hands go still.
“I said she helped when I was having a hard time.” He takes a breath before continuing. “I didn’t want to pretend she hadn’t.”
My fingers tighten against the step.
“I’ve been having a hard time, too.” I look directly at him. “You know that, don’t you?”
“I know.” He starts to reach for my knee, then leaves his hand between us. “Ramona, I was ending it. I told her we needed to keep it to work.”
I hold out my hand again.
“Then let me read that part.” I watch him look at my empty palm. “Let me see you tell her that.”
“I can’t show you.” He clears his throat, but his voice is still rough when he speaks again. “It’s gone.”
I get up slowly, and he stands with me. A hand comes around the trailer carrying June’s spare halter, then slows when he sees us.
“Leave it on the rail, please.” Julius keeps his eyes on me while the man does as he asks.
I wait until we’re alone.
“Why the hell did you delete it?” I fold my arms tightly enough that my wet palms press into my sleeves. “If you said what you’re telling me, why wouldn’t you want me to read it?”
“The older messages were there.” He drags his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t want you reading things I said when I was tired and upset.”
“So there were things you didn’t want me to know.” I watch him lower his hand.
“There were things I didn’t know how to explain.” He steps closer, stopping when I move back.
“You explained them to her.” My voice breaks, and I blot my cheek on my sleeve before he can touch my face.
He looks toward the barn, where somebody is opening a stall.
“Can we go inside the trailer?” He gestures toward the open door. “We don’t have to do this with people walking past.”
I look at him until he faces me again.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell them what you said.” I climb the steps before he can answer.
***
The sitting area has leather seats and a little table Julius had installed so we could eat between rides. I put my hand on the table instead of sitting down.
He comes inside and leaves the door open behind him.
“I’m not worried about them hearing me.” He stops beside the seat. “You’re crying, and I thought you might want some privacy.”
“I wanted you to tell me the truth.” I turn toward him, dragging my sleeve across my cheeks. “I shouldn’t have had to hear any of this from Dakota.”
“I know.” He leans against the back of the seat. “I saw you waiting in the truck last night. We’d had a good evening, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”
I stare at him for a moment, then press my palm harder against the table.
“So you erased it.” I keep my hand there. “You knew it would upset me, and you decided I didn’t get to see it.”
“I wanted to stop going back to it.” He takes his hand off the seat. “She’d message, and I’d feel I needed to answer. I thought deleting it would help me leave it alone.”
“You could have shown me first.” I step closer, searching his face. “You could have let me decide what I needed to read.”
“I was scared of what you’d think.” He doesn’t look away this time.
“I’m thinking it now, Julius.” I put my hand against my mouth until I can speak again. “Only now I don’t get to find out whether I’m wrong.”
He reaches for the phone, then stops with his hand on the counter.
“I told her it had to stop.” His voice rises before he lowers it. “I need you to believe that.”
“She already told me.” I point toward the open door. “That isn’t the part you’re asking me to believe.”
His shoulders drop.
“You want me to trust that nothing worse was in there.” I look at his face. “You want me to take your word after you deleted the only thing I could read for myself.”
He covers his face with both hands, then lets them fall.
“I don’t know how to make this right.” He waits while I struggle to get a full breath. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need you to stop deciding how much truth I can handle.” I pull at my wedding ring, turning it past my knuckle. “I was happy last night. I told you I’d noticed you trying. You sat beside me and let me think we were doing better.”
“We were doing better.” He moves toward me, then sees the ring in my hand.
I set it beside the sink.
“Ramona, please.” He stops at the edge of the counter. “Don’t take it off.”
“I need a minute without it.” I curl my bare fingers against my stomach.
His eyes stay on the band. I wait for him to look at me, but he doesn’t until I say his name.
“I want us to see a counselor.” I keep my voice steady by speaking slowly. “I don’t know how to keep having this conversation with you.”
“I’ll go.” He nods immediately. “Tell me when, and I’ll be there.”
“You’ll help find one.” I press the heel of my hand beneath my eye, angry that it’s still wet. “I can’t be the only person making appointments and asking you to remember them.”
“I’ll help.” He puts his hands flat on the counter. “I want our marriage, Ramona. I want you.”
“I want you, too.” I look at the ring between us. “That’s why I’m still standing here asking you to try.”
He takes a breath that shakes. When he reaches for my hand, I let his fingers touch mine, but I can’t make myself hold on.
“Staying doesn’t mean I’m okay.” I pull away gently. “You keep seeing me beside you and thinking we’ve got through it. I’m still trying to work out what happened.”
He nods, his eyes wet now, and unlocks his phone and holds it out.
“You can look at it whenever you want.” He keeps it level between us. “I won’t hide it from you.”
I look at the screen without taking it.
“I wanted you to show me before I knew to ask.” I step past him toward the washroom. “You can’t give me that now.”
***
I wash my hands because standing in front of him crying is worse. Julius stays by the counter while the water runs, his phone resting beside my ring.
Outside, the vet’s truck pulls into the yard. I hear June move against the fence, then the hand greeting the vet.
I dry my fingers carefully and come back to the sink.
Julius watches while I pick up the band and slide it onto my finger. His shoulders ease before I’ve finished pushing it into place, and I stop with my thumb against it.
“Please don’t look relieved yet. I still want to try. I haven’t decided that what happened is okay.”
“I understand.” He moves away from the steps so I can reach the door.
I pick up my coffee mug from the counter. The coffee he brought me is cold, and there is a little cinnamon left at the bottom.
“I’m going to help with June.” I hold the mug against my chest. “Afterward, we’ll look for someone together.”
“I’ll be right here.” He doesn’t reach for me. “I’m not leaving.”
I put the mug down and start toward the steps, but he speaks before I get there.
“We can get through this.” He looks at my hand, then at my face. “I know we can.”
I stop beside the doorway. He waits for me to agree, as I always have when one of us says we’ll work it out.
“I don’t know that anymore.” I hold the doorframe while his expression changes. “That’s why I’m asking for help.”