She looked at me in disdain. “Is that your new horse?”
“Yes.”
“He’s built like a dump truck.”
“He has perfect conformation for a Hanoverian,” Lockie said stepping away from her and heading toward the side door.
“A Hanoverian dump truck,” Greer retorted. Then she shook her head as if I was hopeless. “If that’s what you want, go figure.”
“This is what I want.”
“Fine, you wouldn’t catch me dead on that thing. What an embarrassment. I’m going to Sabine’s if anyone wonders where I am,” Greer said.
“They won’t,” I replied as she left.
I dismounted, untacked Joy and brought him into the wash stall for a quick rinse even though he was barely damp. Obviously, twenty minutes of work didn’t make a big impression on him and I returned him to his stall. He would have a very nice life here with very little asked of him.
Out behind the barn I found some red clover the lawnmowers had missed, picked the blossoms and went upstairs to the apartment.
“Lockie.” I tapped on the door.
“It’s open.”
Chapter Eighteen
He was lying on the sofa.
That would be my next project, redecorating this apartment for him. It had been this way since I had come to live at the farm; the time was past due for fresh paint and decent furniture. He needed a sofa long enough so his legs didn’t hang over the armrests.
“Is Rogers here?”
“Not yet.” I sat on the coffee table next to him. “I couldn’t find any daisies but I found some clover.” I slid a stem by his ear.
“Am I handsome now?”
“Very.”
“Because we can’t let ourselves go even if we are retired.” Lockie’s smile was so small it almost required a magnifying glass to see.
“You sneak! Are you listening to everything I say to Butch?”
“It’s not as though you were whispering in his ear so only he could hear.”
It wasn’t the first time someone pointed out that I did carry on a running, one-sided conversation with the horses. “I don’t want you to make fun of me.”
“Tali, I wouldn’t do that.”
“You found it amusing.”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“So you were laughing at me.”
“No, I am...charmed by your relationship with Butch. You know that. Don’t misinterpret what I’m saying. I’m handsome now.”
“Wow.” I watched as his eyes closed. “Did the meds just kick in?”
“Yes.”
I had seen that look before. My mother said it was like falling back into a cloud.
“They’re strong, aren’t they?”
He opened his eyes and made the effort to focus. “Very.”
I removed the clover from his hair. “Come on, we’ll go downstairs and you’ll sit in the middle of the ring. If you need to have any jumps moved or rails changed, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you.”
“Just this once because...”
“I already owe you,” he finished.
“That’s completely correct.”
He stood up slowly.
This was just like my mother had been those last months. The medications were so strong to deal with the pain that she was always light-headed, dizzy and half-awake.
“I’ll be okay in a few minutes. Once it all stabilizes. My glasses,” he said and I grabbed them off the table.
“Why aren’t you wearing the contacts?”
“Tali.”
“You’re getting used to them.”
“Yes.”
On the aisle, Tracy had the mare with her bridle on, waiting for Rogers to arrive with her own saddle and a moment later Rogers walked in. I saw her pause as she saw Lockie, then she walked forward almost reluctantly.
“Hi, Rogers,” Lockie said. “It’s good to see you again.”
She blushed. “Hi.”
I almost couldn’t hear her and felt like giving her a swift kick to her butt.
“Let’s get her tacked up,” I said as Tracy appeared with a saddle pad and girth. A few minutes later, I had Rogers in the saddle and walking into the ring.
“Why are we indoors?” She said softly to me.
“Because getting too much sun makes you look old before your time.”
“That’s a good reason.”
I was pleased the excuse had come to me so quickly.
“This is going to be an easy day, Rogers,” Lockie told her as he walked in a small circle, following her on the track. “I want you to get used to the mare and let her get used to you. And, of course, get used to me,” he said with a smile. He was feeling better.
The characteristic Lockie shared with my mother was their ability to put aside whatever they were going through and focus on someone else. I remembered telling my mother “Stop worrying about me.” She’d ask about school, my trip to it and back, and whatever I had done afterwards. Curious, she wanted to know about everything whether it was my homework or the latest gossip. I couldn’t remember ever hearing her complain or feel sorry for herself. Instead, she felt sorry for me, for what the illness had taken away from my childhood that should have been so carefree and without worry.
Maybe my life should have been different but that wasn’t the life I was destined to have. Even my father couldn’t change that. I tried to make everything as easy as possible for her. I hoped I succeeded once in a while.
That morning I thought she would recognize some of her qualities in Lockie.
“Pick up the pace a little, Rogers. Brisk trot.”
The last time I saw Rogers ride, the horse had run off with her and scared the peanuts out of her M&M’s. Her parents thought Sinjon was a wonderful horse since he looked like the old oil painting on the wall above the living room fireplace. She was afraid to tell them she was afraid to ride him.
I knew he cost a ton of money and had been bought at one of the top show stables on the East Coast. Robert probably made thousands under the table on the sale.
It was understandable that an instructor would get a finder’s fee from the seller if the right buyer was brought into the mix. I understood that was how business worked. Everyone knew when Robert was involved, the price of the horse would be jacked up higher than normal.
He was greedy, arrogant and successful. People forgive many faults if they get what they want in the end. Robert was absolved of all his indiscretions; winning was that important. Winning was status and sometimes money; not prize money, but the sales price of a horse could get a boost with the right win.
Watching Rogers attempt to follow all of Lockie’s instructions, I wondered if she was as unhappy showing as I was but, unlike me, was unwilling to say the words. That I didn’t like showing was a secret to no one who knew me for more than a couple weeks.
After fifteen minutes on the flat, a good portion of it working at a collected trot, Lockie had Rogers pop over a few fences. I knew that was a lot to ask but when she saw the fences were only about two feet high, it was less intimidating.
The mare would have jumped anything she was pointed at, I was certain of that, and Rogers made it around flawlessly. She was beaming when the lesson ended. Pulling the mare to a halt, Rogers patted her neck and looked to Lockie.
“When’s the next lesson?”
“How about Friday?”
“How about Wednesday?”
“You should practice for a few days on your own horse and then come back,” Lockie replied.
Rogers stopped smiling.
“What just happened?” Lockie asked immediately.
I stepped closer to him so Rogers couldn’t hear. “She’s terrified of her horse.”
“I should have gone to college and become a psychiatrist,” he said quietly. “My grades were good, but no, I had to go into equestrian sports.”
“Wednesday’s fine, Rogers,” I told her.
“Tali,” Lockie began.
&
nbsp; “I have an idea,” I said.
“Wednesday and Friday. Does that sound good, Rogers?” Lockie asked.
“Thank you!” She was beaming again as she rode the horse out of the indoor.
“Would you do me a favor?” I asked him.
“Since I owe you, as you’ve reminded me a number of times, I can’t say no to anything, can I?”
“Good point. Would you go up to the house and have some iced tea on the terrace?”
“Why?”
“I haven’t seen you drink anything in the last hour.”
He was about to say something.
“You said you wanted me to treat you like Butch.”
“I forgot that. I’ll go up to the house. Are you sure you don’t need a lead rope to get me there?”
“Haven’t you ever seen me call Butch out of the field first thing in the morning? He follows me right into the barn without a lead rope. If he can find his stall, you can find the terrace.”
“I’m smarter than he is.”
“You’ll have to prove it. As soon as Rogers leaves, I’ll meet you up there for lunch.”
I watched him walk away. If I was really treating him like Butch, I would have at least kissed him goodbye on the muzzle.
Chapter Nineteen
Rogers was more excited than a six year old at a birthday party when the clown just announced he was going to make balloon animals. She was practically hosing the mare down and scraping the water off her at the same time.
I never saw her so animated and happy. I actually didn’t know that she enjoyed riding and thought it was just something her parents had forced her into.
“Do you think it went well,” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Did I look good on her?”
“Wonderful.”
“Will I be riding her again or another of your horses?”
“Her.”
She sighed in relief. “He’s very good, isn’t he?”
“Lockie?”
“Yes! He didn’t yell at me once.”
“He wouldn’t do that. He’s a wonderful teacher; very knowledgeable and perceptive.”
“I felt relaxed. Did I look relaxed?”
“You looked like you could have fallen asleep,” I replied.
“Is he staying?”
“Who?”
“Lockie.”
“Yes.”
“Why?” Rogers asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Didn’t your father bring him on board to get Greer to the National Horse Show? She’s not going so why would he stay here?”
“Rogers. We have a lovely farm.”
“I know but he’s so much better than...oops.”
“Better than teaching Greer and me?”
Rogers grabbed my arm. “I didn’t mean it like that! I meant he could be at international level.”
“Right now he’s going to get Greer ready for the jumper division on the Winter Circuit. That’s a huge project and Lockie wants to do it. He likes it here. His horse is here now and he’s settling in.”
Tracy came in, unclipped the mare and brought her back to her stall as I walked out of the barn with Rogers.
“His horse is here? Which one?”
I stopped in front of Wingspread.
“Oh my God. That’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen.”
“Yes, he’s very attractive and I’ll tell Lockie you said so.”
We went out into the sun and Rogers opened the door to her car. “What about you? What are you going to be doing now that Butch is retired?”
“Lockie’s been trying to teach me a little about dressage. It gives him something to do when he’s not doing something more important.”
“Then you don’t have to jump.”
“Exactly.”
Rogers got into her car.
“I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“See you.”
“Thanks, Talia.”
I waved goodbye. She shouldn’t thank me yet. If she knew what I was planning, she might not even come back.
When I reached the terrace, Lockie and Jules were at the table, working on some of her should-be-famous cold eggplant appetizer. They smiled as I went inside to clean up.
I came back out, sat and Jules dished out some eggplant for me.
“We’re having grilled panini for lunch. Is everyone happy with that?”
“Very,” Lockie replied. “What is it?”
“An Italian pressed sandwich,” I said.
“Why would you press it? Is it wrinkled? Would it be embarrassed to go out in public looking so slovenly?”
I laughed.
“To blend the flavors,” Jules explained.
“A normal sandwich is too simple around here,” he said.
“Yes, it is,” Jules replied as she went into the kitchen.
“What’s this plan you have?”
Saved by the UPS man. The brown truck stopped by the walkway and Tom got out carrying a large box.
“Hi, Talia. I don’t know who this is, but it’s your address. Lockie Malone?”
“That would be me,” Lockie said.
“Hi,” Tom replied as he put the box on the table. “Running late today. Say hi to Jules for me. See you.”
“Bye.”
“I didn’t order anything,” Lockie pointed out as he removed his utility knife from his back pocket.
“I did.”
“Of course you did,” he said slicing open the box and lifting the box inside to the table then opening it. “What is it, Tali?”
“Unsweetened coconut water.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s very hydrating. I don’t see you carrying around a water bottle.”
“It’s like a baby and their baba.”
“You should. It’s summer. People need water.”
He gave me a look.
“If you don’t take in enough fluids...you know all this from horse shows! Any horse outside in the summer must have access to water. You’re not an exception to the rule. You must maintain your electrolytes. If you’re not going to take care of yourself, I’ll force you to.”
He removed a large can from the case and read the label.
“You’ll keep them in the refrigerator and a couple times a day you’ll have one. I’ll make sure there is a supply of bottled water in there, too.”
“You just want to catch me peeing behind the barn.”
“Not hardly. Why can’t men use the bathroom like a normal person?”
“You mean normal as in like a girl?”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.”
Jules returned to the terrace with a tray of sandwiches and accompaniments. “Are we arguing?”
I looked at Lockie.
“No,” he said.
We ate lunch while Jules told us about her last trip to Italy and all the wonderful food she’d had in tiny trattorias throughout the countryside. I wished we were going to Italy instead of Los Angeles in the fall because I loved spending time with her and considered her my big sister.
“I made some lemon ice for dessert. Is anyone interested?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll go get it and you can go back to arguing,” Jules said as she returned to the house.
“We weren’t arguing,” Lockie said to me.
“No.”
“When you tell me this plan concerning Rogers, are we going to start?”
I laughed. “I hope not. You can say no and my feelings won’t be hurt.”
“What would hurt your feelings?”
“So many things. A huge list.” That was true and there was no sense in going there. “Here’s my idea. Rogers is a good rider with no confidence. Point and go with the mare.”
“Yes. I’m starting to not like it already.”
Jules put down two dishes of ice in front of us with wafer cookies on the side and went back in the house.
�
�It gets better. You’re switching me to dressage. Switch Rogers to combined training. She used to hunt. Going cross country isn’t a problem for her as long as she’s not on Sinjon. Start her in the Novice division and let her go.”
“I don’t know. Combined training is a far cry from equitation.”
“She’s jumping that height already in hunter over fences. She’s jumped higher than that with the County Hounds Hunt Club. She’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, she’ll be fine except Rogers is one hundred percent clueless about dressage.”
“If you let her, Rogers would rest her head on your boot,” I said.
“Excuse me?”
“She’s got a thing for you.”
“What kind of thing?”
“Didn’t you see her blushing and practically whispering every time she had to speak to you?” I asked.
“Please tell me you would tease Butch like this and you’re not serious.”
“I do tease him but, this is for real.”
“Now I have to teach Rogers who is afraid of her horse and has a crush on me and Greer who wants to...God, I don’t know what she wants to do to me.”
“Isn’t that the exciting part for men?”
Lockie finished his dessert and pushed back from the table. “Yeah, no. What do we have to do to get Greer to keep her pants on?”
“Worry about keeping your own pants on.”
Chapter Twenty
He began walking across the terrace. “You mean I’m not expected to service you two mares?”
I stood up and headed back to the barn with him. “It’s not in the job specs.”
“That’s a relief.”
We walked down the driveway.
“I was wondering something about you.”
“Don’t wonder, just ask.”
“When is the last time you had sex,” I asked.
“Gee, Tali. Why would you be wondering about that?”
“You don’t have to answer.”
“Why would you even be thinking about it?” Lockie asked then paused. “No, don’t tell me, let me imagine the reason. Hmm Hmmm Hmmm.”
“What are you imagining?”
“Day One it’s like King Stud coming out of the van. Ears up, tail like an unfurled flag in the wind, nostrils flaring, neck arched. He can smell the mares. He snorts. He paws the ground. He’s not confused, he knows what his job is and he’s ready to do it.”
Bittersweet Farm 1: Mounted Page 10