21. Julius
— ? —
Julius
Ramona is coming through the cottage gate when I arrive with the coffee. She stops to fasten it behind her, then looks at the cup I’m holding out.
“You’re early.” She takes it without making me wait. “I haven’t even fed June.”
“I said I’d meet you before you went to the barn.” I move aside so she can get through. “I’m trying this new thing where I leave enough time to get here.”
“That sounds promising.” She takes a sip, watching me over the lid. “How long do you think you can keep it up?”
“I’m hoping you’ll get bored with being surprised.” I wait beside the gate while she adjusts the bag on her shoulder, and she looks at my empty hand.
“You didn’t bring one for yourself.” She tips her cup toward me.
“I had mine already.” I put my keys in my pocket before I can offer to carry her bag. “I’ll let you get on.”
Ramona stays where she is. A loose strand of hair catches against her mouth, and she pushes it away while she studies me.
“You can walk with me.” She starts toward the barn before I can smile too much. “If you aren’t expected somewhere else.”
“I’ve left the morning free.” I fall into step beside her. “Ben runs the schedule now. Blake takes the vet calls. If somebody wants me before noon, they have to tell Ben why.”
“Since when?”
“Since the week you moved out here. It took me three days to write it down and about three weeks to stop answering the phone anyway.”
She doesn’t say anything to that, but she doesn’t walk faster either.
“There’s a thing I should have told you months ago.” I keep walking so she doesn’t have to look at me. “The night I said the chestnut needed me. He was eating when I got there. I stayed because I wanted to talk to her, and I let you thank me for it.”
She stops.
“You’re telling me this now.”
“I should have corrected you that night. I don’t want to keep letting you believe it.”
She starts walking again. She doesn’t take my hand, and she doesn’t tell me to leave.
“I wanted to ask you about getting another opinion on Banner.” I say it before we reach the barn, and she slows enough that I stop with her.
“What kind of opinion?” She lowers her coffee.
“A specialist who helps older horses move more comfortably. Our vet gave me a name. I haven’t arranged it.”
Ramona looks toward the rescue pens, where Banner stands beneath the shelter with his head lowered.
“I’d want to speak to her first.” She turns back to me. “I’ve got notes about what he’s been doing. I don’t want somebody arriving with an answer before she’s seen him.”
“I can send you her details.” I take out my phone, then wait for her nod before finding them.
She watches me forward the information.
“Thank you for asking.” She puts her coffee into my free hand while she checks her own screen.
I stand beside her holding it, trying not to make too much of being useful.
***
The shelter plans are spread across my tailgate when Ramona comes back from feeding the older horses. She sets her empty bucket down and looks at the drawing.
“The opening needs to face the other way.” She points before I can explain. “Rain comes across that corner of the pasture.”
“I thought the existing fence would help.” I stand beside her while she traces the direction with her finger.
“It doesn’t help enough.” She looks toward the shelter we’re replacing. “I’ve watched them crowd into the back to get dry.”
I turn the page and mark where she points.
“Here, then?” I wait while she checks it against the pasture.
“That would be better.” She moves closer, reaching across me for the pencil. “And Banner needs room to get in without another horse blocking him.”
Her shoulder presses against my arm while she draws. I keep looking at the page because it would be easy to lean into her and turn a practical conversation into a request.
When she finishes, I take a photograph of the changes and send it to the hands doing the work.
“You’re not flying somebody in to build it?” She watches the message leave my screen.
“Not unless you ask me to.” I lower the phone.
“I’m still getting used to you offering people our plane the same way Dad offers them a ride into town.” She sets down the pencil, then catches my face. “Don’t start. It is our plane. I’ve signed enough papers about it.”
“I wasn’t going to argue.”
“Will they be ready before the rain?” She picks the pencil back up.
“They have the wood and the equipment.” I put the phone away. “I’ll check with them, but I won’t promise you until they’ve confirmed.”
She nods, then lifts her bucket. I want her to stay. Instead, I pick up the other empty bucket and follow her back toward the barn.
***
Ghost won’t come near the gate while I’m standing beside it.
I take a step back, but the gray gelding keeps moving along the far fence. Ramona stays inside the pen with her hands lowered, watching him instead of trying to follow.
“He let me get closer yesterday.” She turns her head toward me without moving her feet. “Was that rope hanging there then?”
I look at the coil beside my elbow.
“I brought it when they moved the gate.” I lift it from the rail. “Do you want it out of sight?”
“Please do.” She waits while I carry it into the tack room.
When I return, she’s still in the same place. Ghost has stopped pacing, although his ears turn toward me when I approach, and I stay farther back this time.
Ramona doesn’t reach for him when he comes closer. She lets him stop, then lowers her open hand where he can see it, and he sniffs her fingers before touching them with his nose.
I keep my mouth shut until she leaves the pen.
“You noticed the rope before I did.” I take the gate while she comes through. “I thought he was worried about me.”
“He might have been worried about both.” She brushes dust from her palms. “I’ll ask everyone to keep the ropes out of view while we work with him.”
“I’ll put them in the tack room.” I fasten the gate and wait while she checks it herself.
She starts toward the barn, then looks back when I don’t follow.
“You were good with him.” I meet her eyes. “You waited even when he kept moving away.”
“I wanted him to come back.” She looks toward Ghost, who is watching us from inside the fence. “Chasing him wouldn’t help.”
I nod, but I don’t turn it into a conversation about us. She has given me an answer about a horse, and I let her keep it that way.
***
I find Ben moving feed into the main barn. He sets down the sack when he sees me and wipes his palms on his jeans.
“Do you need a hand?” He looks past me toward the yard.
“I wanted to ask about the dinner after the exhibition.” I stay near the open door. “Were you there when Dakota made the comment about Ramona?”
“I was.” His eyes lower before returning to mine. “I didn’t know whether to mention it.”
“Did you laugh?” I ask it plainly, giving him time to answer.
He looks down again.
“I did. Before I thought about it.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I saw you laugh, and I figured she was teasing.”
I put my hand against the doorframe.
“That’s why I’m here. I made it seem acceptable. It wasn’t.”
“I should’ve known better.” Ben lets his hand fall.
“I should have said it at the table.” I step inside so he doesn’t have to keep his voice down for the men in the yard. “Ramona came to watch because I told her I wasn’t riding that day. I signed up without telling her.”
His face changes.
“She didn’t know?” He glances toward the arena beyond the barn.
“She found out with the crowd.” I keep looking at him. “Then I let somebody suggest she hadn’t supported me.”
He opens his mouth, but I continue before he can apologize to the wrong person.
“She never asked me to quit riding.” I take my hand off the doorframe. “I chose to stop. If you’ve heard otherwise, it’s because I let people get the wrong idea.”
“I have heard that.” Ben shifts his weight. “I’m sorry, Julius.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me.”
He nods.
“I’m speaking to the people who were there. I wanted you to hear it from me.”
“I’ll speak to her.” He looks toward the rescue pens. “If she’ll let me.”
“Don’t expect her to make you feel better about it.” I step back toward the doorway. “I’m learning that part myself.”
He stays beside the feed while I leave. Outside, I take out my phone, find the number of the rider who sat beside Dakota, and write asking when we can meet.
***
Ramona has June’s mane divided between her fingers when I reach the stall. She sees me through the open upper door but keeps working until I stop beside her.
“Ben spoke to me.” She smooths a tangled section before letting it go. “He told me what you said about the exhibition.”
“I asked whether he’d been at the table.” I rest my hand on the latch without opening it. “He told me he laughed.”
“He said you wanted him to know why I was upset.” She sets the comb down and looks at me. “Somebody else came to apologize yesterday.”
“I’ve been speaking to the people who heard it.”
She comes closer to the door.
“I should have told them the truth when you were still sitting there.”
“Did you tell them about Dakota?” She watches my face.
“I told them what I did.” I keep my hand away from hers on the rail. “And that you hadn’t stopped me riding. They don’t need to know the rest unless you want to tell them.”
She nods, then looks toward June.
“Ben got upset.” She rubs her thumb over a mark in the wood. “I think he expected me to say it was fine.”
“What did you tell him?” I ask without moving closer.
“That I appreciated the apology.” She lifts her eyes to mine. “I didn’t tell him it was fine.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” I move aside when June stretches toward my shoulder.
Ramona scratches beneath the mare’s jaw, and I watch her fingers disappear into the thick hair. I know how those hands feel against my face. I have to put mine in my pockets to keep from reaching for her.
“You’ve been different lately.” She says it while she’s looking at June. “You ask before you arrange things. You listen when I tell you what I need.”
“I’m trying to keep doing it. Even when I don’t like the answer.”
“That part matters.” She leaves her hand against June’s neck.
I nod instead of promising her I’ll never fail again.
She looks at the open space beside me, then picks up the comb.
“What are you doing Friday?” I ask before she can turn away.
“Why do you want to know?” She looks back, the corner of her mouth beginning to lift.
“I wondered whether you’d go out with me again.” I lean on the stall door while she considers me. “You can pick where.”
“Yes, I’d like that.” She turns toward June before I can answer.
I stay beside the stall, trying to keep my face under control.
“You’ve made this very easy.” I watch her draw the comb carefully through the mare’s mane. “I had a much longer question prepared.”
“Then you can save us both the trouble.” She glances over her shoulder. “Don’t ruin it.”
I laugh, and she lets herself smile at me. Then she puts down the comb.
“There’s one thing I want to do before Friday.” She comes back to the door, her fingers settling beside the latch.
“Tell me.” I take my hands out of my pockets.
“I want us to try to get the messages back.” She holds my gaze when I stop smiling. “The ones you deleted.”
My hand closes against my leg. She notices, but she doesn’t soften the question.
“I want to keep seeing you.” She stays close enough that I can reach her. “I also want to read what I’m being asked to forgive.”
I look at her hand beside mine and make myself leave it there.
“I’ll help you try.” I answer before I can offer her another explanation instead.
“And ask Dakota for hers.” She doesn’t look up from June. “Have Ben do it. I don’t want you writing to her.”
“Ben can do it tomorrow.”
She lets out a breath and picks the brush back up.
I have spent weeks hoping she would let me tell her the truth. Now she wants to see the words I used when I thought she never would.