SEBASTIAN
When I finally get Shadowfax’s ashes back from Mike, I arrange the funeral for him on a day that works with Lana’s schedule.
As I don’t want the day to be pure sadness, and to distract Lana from her worries about the gallery opening, I plan a ride for us, followed by a picnic. I know just the place.
Out near the other end of the resort -- where the second restaurant that Ryan’s partner Alicia is head chef at -- is a forest glade.
I think at one time, it used to be a popular make out spot for teens, but since I was in high school, the plant life has taken over and it’s become less accessible.
I can deal with that though, and I head there with some tools, and clear away the worst of the overgrowth.
On the morning of Shadowfax’s funeral, before meeting Lana, I head out and buy all her favourite food for a picnic.
I even pay Deborah from the coffee shop extra to make pineapple tarts to a more authentic Bahamian recipe.
I also head to a local Caribbean restaurant and ask them to make shrimp egg-fried rice, which I know Lana loves.
I put it in a heated storage box to keep warm, and then put the box in a hamper, with the pineapple tarts, some wine, and a few other treats.
I drive over to the glade and leave my truck there, so that we don’t have to carry the picnic on the horses. Then, I head back to the ranch on foot, and I’m faced with the difficult choice of which animals I should choose.
Seeing Shadowfax’s empty stable stall causes pain to stab my heart. I’ll never get used to not having him around.
As the trail to the glade is uneven terrain, and still a little overgrown, I choose my two most experienced horses -- a white mare named Epona, after the Gaulish horse goddess, and a black stallion called Hengroen, after King Arthur's horse. Hengroen is a temperamental beast, and can sometimes be a little unruly, though I can always pull him back into check, and I know he’s the best horse for this type of trail.
Epona is one of my first horses, adopted a few years after I started giving riding lessons from a nearby ranch that was going out of business.
I rub both horses down, then saddle them up accordingly. When they’re both ready, and eager to get going, I head over to Lana’s place to pick her up for our date.
When I arrive at the shop, Lana is waiting by the doors, dressed appropriately for horse riding, in skinny jeans, with sturdy boots, and a tightfitting long sleeve Henley sweatshirt.
I know she’s chosen the shirt so there won’t be any loose material to get tangled in the horse’s reins, but at that moment, all I can focus on is how great her breasts look in the tight fit.
“My eyes are up here,” Lana says with a smirk.
I glance up to see her yellow-brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “Sorry,” I say bashfully.
“You’re okay. It’s nice to know I’ve still got it.”
“Are you kidding me? I haven’t been able to get the thought of your naked body out of my mind.”
“Pervert!” Lana teases, then turns to pick up something leaning against the door. It’s a large rectangle wrapped in brown paper.
Remembering she asked for a photo of Shadowfax so she could paint his picture, I ask, “Is that what I think it is?”
Lana smiles. “It is. You can open it when we get to the ranch.”
“Let’s go then,” I say, extending my hand to Lana.
She entwines her fingers with mine, and then we walk to the ranch.
“The horses are ready,” I tell her, as we come to a stop by the stable. “But first, Shadowfax’s ashes.”
I pop into the stable, where I have the urn from Mike, as well as a brass plaque I've made especially.
I take both items into the paddock, and after propping the painting up against the fence, Lana follows me.
I affix the plaque to the paddock fence at the north position, under a cherry tree that has a beautiful pink blossom in the spring.
Lana comes to stand beside me as I hammer in the final nail.
The plaque reads: Here Lies Shadowfax. Beloved Companion and Lord of Horses.
“It’s perfect,” Lana says, taking my hand gently in hers.
I feel the tears welling in my eyes and blink them away. “This was his favourite place in the paddock.”
“It’s beautiful,” Lana agrees.
I pick up the urn of Shadowfax’s ashes, and gently unscrew the lid. I thought about burying the urn here, underneath the cherry tree, but decided against it. Shadowfax deserves to be free, his spirit welcome to roam the whole ranch for all eternity.
I take out a handful of ashes and sprinkle them on the grass beneath the plaque, and then offer the urn to Lana for her to do the same.
Together, we move around the paddock, and then the rest of the ranch, even entering the stables, to scatter Shadowfax’s ashes.
In the stable, all the other horses let out a mournful whinny, and then bow their heads, as though they know what’s happening.
As we leave the stables, they start stamping, their way of honouring their fallen brother.
When all the ashes have been scattered, we pop into the ranch to wash our hands, and that’s when Lana says, “You should open the painting now.”
She pops outside to retrieve the package, and then presents it to me.
Carefully, I tear off the brown paper, to reveal a stunning landscape painting of Shadowfax in motion, his front legs raised and his mane rippling in the breeze.
The background is a spectacular glimpse of the ranch at sunset, the sky streaked with shades of purple, red, orange and yellow.
Lana is an extraordinary artist, and the picture is her best piece ever.
I turn to her, tears rolling down my cheeks, to see she is crying too. “Thank you so much. I can’t put into words how much this means to me.”
“I know,” she says, squeezing my fingers.
“This is your best piece of work. I’ll be honoured to hang it here in the ranch. I think it will go perfectly over the main desk. What do you think?”
Lana gazes up at the spot I mean, where a calendar currently hangs. “Perfect.”
I place the picture down for a moment and retrieve my tool kit from outside. Then, I remove the calendar, shoving it in a desk drawer to be rehomed later. With the space of the wall clear, I hammer in some nails, and then hang Shadowfax’s painting.
The sunlight coming in through the open doors of the ranch shines off the painting, making the sunset come alive, and for a moment, I can almost hear the sound of Shadowfax’s hooves.
Hand in hand with Lana, we stand in silence for a moment, looking at the picture of Shadowfax. Finally, I brush away my tears, and turn to her.
“Enough sadness. The best way to honor Shadowfax’s life is by going on a ride. Come on, I have a surprise.”
I lead Lana to the stable, where Hengroen and Epona wait for us. The white mare is patient, but the black stallion is growing restless.
“It’s okay, we’re going out now,” I call to the horse, and he snorts.
“Do you need a hand mounting?” I ask Lana, as she takes a helmet from the array affixed to the stable wall.
“No, I think I still remember,” Lana replies, fastening the helmet.
When we were younger, if we weren’t busy with schoolwork, or helping out in Delia’s shop, we were riding horses. Back then, we had to travel over to the old Stewart ranch, where I eventually brought Epona from.
As though it’s merely been five days, and not five years, since she’s been on a horse, Lana mounts Epona gracefully, and then with a swift tap to the flank, instructs the horse to trot out of the stable.
I smile to myself at how naturally Lana picks up horse riding again.
I climb onto Hengroen’s back, who seems eager to go.
“You’re not going to cause me any trouble, are you?” I ask, patting the stallion on its flank.
Hengroen straightens his posture, and whinnies to tell me he will be on best behavior. With a gentle tap, I direct him into a trot, and we leave the stable.
“Follow me,” I say to Lana.
We ride through the ranch, heading in the opposite direction to the paddock, and the path that leads down to the beach. Soon, the ranch gives way to the resort, and tourists turn to look at us.
I wave down at a couple entering the main building, and then we continue on our way. Instead of heading to the boardwalk, where Alicia’s restaurant is, we make our way up a slight incline. As we climb, the overgrowth gets thicker, but thankfully, both horses manage it well.
“Where are we going?” Lana asks, as the forest around us gets thicker.
“You’ll see soon,” I say enigmatically.
With powerful strides, Hengroen makes his way through the overgrowth, until we finally come to the glade, where my truck awaits.
“Surprise!” I call, getting off Hengroen’s back.
Lana dismounts Epona and looks around with wide-eyed. “What is this place?”
I feel myself blush. “I think the high schoolers used to come here to make out,” I confess.
Lana laughs, her laughter sounds like rich music. “I knew you were a pervert!”
“I prepared a special picnic. Anything else is entirely up to you.”
We let the horses roam, knowing they won’t go far without us, and I fetch the picnic from the truck. I lay a blanket on the floor and invite Lana to join me as I unpack the food.
“Pineapple tart, shrimp stir fry and wine? Are you trying to seduce me, Sebastian Braddock?” Lana teases.
“Do you want to be seduced?” I quip back.
Lana giggles. “Maybe,” she says, and then presses her lips to mine.
For a moment, the food is forgotten, as our mouths join and our tongues swirl together. We kiss until breathless, and when Lana finally pulls away, her cheeks are flushed, and her eyelids are half closed.
She lays back on the picnic blanket, a blissful smile covering her lips. “What did I do to deserve all this?”
“Aside from being absolutely perfect and beautiful?” I reply and we both laugh. “Seriously though, I wanted to thank you for being there for me when I had to have Shadowfax euthanized.”
Lana sits up and shrugs. “It was just a few text messages.”
“You were busy, and you still made time for me, and I appreciate that.”
“I know I’ve been wrapped up in work a lot, but I promise, once the gallery opens, I will make more time for us. I want things to be different this time around, Sebastian.”
“So, do I. I know we both have other responsibilities, but what we have is too special to neglect.”
Something I can’t identify shimmers in Lana’s eyes. Is it guilt? Regret?
I’m about to ask what’s wrong, when Lana picks up the bottle of wine, and says, “Cheers to that.”
I take her queue and open the wine. After pouring a glass for both of us, I serve up the food and we tuck in.
“This is amazing,” Lana says, eating the fried rice. “Where is it from?”
“Don’t you know about the Caribbean restaurant on Newtown Lane, by the elementary school?”
Lana’s eyes widened. “What? No. When did that open?”
“A few years ago, I guess,” I reply with a shrug. “I suppose as you don’t have kids, you have no reason to go out that way though. I only know about it because it’s one of Tucker’s favourite places to eat out at.”
There’s that look again. I desperately want to ask what’s going on in Lana’s head.
“You know you can tell me anything,” I say, in a gentle voice.
Lana sighs. “I know, and I will. Just not yet. Can you wait for me?”
“I’d wait until the end of time for you,” I promise, then close the distance between us and crush my lips to hers.