by Karis Walsh
Alana got into the passenger seat and shut the door. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” she said, smiling at Tegan and buckling her seat belt. “I had to make sure the contractors knew which rooms to finish today.”
Tegan drove down the ranch’s long driveway, avoiding some of the larger ruts. “Isn’t that Chip’s job?”
Alana gave her an exasperated look. “Apparently he’s too busy tickling puppy bellies. I’m hoping he’ll decide to adopt the lot. They’ll keep him company on these long, lonely nights when there aren’t any guests at the ranch.”
Tegan glanced at Alana. “It’s nice of you to help him. I’m sure he’ll learn how to be more assertive the closer he gets to the grand opening.”
“Maybe. Speaking of assertive, I want to talk to you about giving my horses expired medicine.”
Tegan couldn’t help but laugh at Alana’s proprietary tone. One week ago, she barely knew what a horse was, and now she was claiming ownership of twenty-five of them. She had a feeling this was an important part of Alana’s personality. When she took on a project, she immersed herself completely. “What are you talking about? And when did they become your horses?”
Alana paused, as if giving the question serious consideration. “Yesterday afternoon. And I’m talking about the dewormer you used the day we met.”
She leaned forward and pulled a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. Tegan paused before turning onto the main road and took it from her.
“See?” Alana said, pointing at Tegan’s invoice.
Tegan pinched the bridge of her nose. She had itemized the farm call and the vaccinations, which she had included at cost, without her usual markup. In an empty space, Chip had written: Plus old paste dewormer—free.
“I asked him about it, and he said you found an old box of the stuff in storage and gave it to him.”
Tegan sighed. “That wasn’t exactly true. I had just bought those tubes. I just told him they were old so he wouldn’t fuss about me not charging for them.”
“You lied?”
“I prefer the term fudged.”
“Not so self-righteous now, are we?” Alana asked in a smug tone. “But it still doesn’t make sense.”
Tegan tossed the invoice back onto Alana’s lap and pulled onto the road. “Did Chip tell you how the horses and corrals were part of the package he got when he bought the property?”
“Yes.”
“What I’m sure he didn’t tell you was how poor the living conditions had been for the horses. Alana, I had been trying to help them for years. You know how sick you felt when you were holding Lace and feeling how thin and scared she was at our appointment? Imagine if you didn’t have the comfort of being able to help her, but just had to watch her suffer from a distance.”
Tegan put on her blinker and merged onto Highway 82, heading east and skimming past the edge of Yakima. “Once Chip took charge, he called me out and we got to work getting the horses healthy again. He spent hours cleaning the paddocks and a lot of money on feed and vitamins and shoeing. I help out as much as I can, but he can be very stubborn about wanting to pay full cost.”
“So do you magically discover old boxes of medicine every time you come out?”
Tegan grinned. “Sometimes other clients have already paid for bags of supplements but changed their minds about wanting them. Last time I dewormed them, I told him mice had chewed through the boxes the paste tubes came in. I said I couldn’t put them on my shelves and sell them that way, so I might as well use them for his horses. Todd, the farrier, does the same thing. We just want to help because we appreciate what he’s done.”
“Well, from now on you’re dealing with me,” Alana said. “And I’m perfectly happy accepting help for the horses, like a multihorse discount or something, but only if it’s reasonable for you, and you’re not losing too much of your profit. Plus, once the ranch is making money, the discounts stop.”
“Deal.” Tegan reached out her hand, and Alana shook it, then gave it a squeeze and didn’t let go right away.
“Thank you,” she said. “For helping the horses and Lace. And me. You seem to collect a lot of strays.”
Tegan rested her hand on her lap, still able to feel the pressure of Alana’s fingers even after she had let go. Alana’s statement was truer than she realized. She had been a stray herself as a child, in a way, and had naturally attracted them ever since.
Alana was quiet as they drove the rest of the way to Toppenish, a small town about twenty minutes from Yakima. They were surrounded by rounded hills, some sparsely dotted with sage and basalt boulders. Others were covered with densely planted wheat or hay that looked like a solid blanket from some angles but had perfectly ordered rows when viewed from another. The early morning sun draped the irregular hills in patches of shadow and light. Tegan never tired of the beauty she saw around her every day, but she was afraid to ask Alana what she thought. She didn’t want to hear Alana say that she preferred views of skyscrapers and elegant hotels to this, even though she was certain it was true. Better not to ask, so Tegan let the silence stretch between them.
After exiting the freeway, Tegan drove down a rural road and into her client’s driveway. It was as long as the one leading to Chip’s ranch, but the similarity ended there. The fields on either side here were bare of trees, edged by perfect white board fences, and diagonally cut by large irrigation systems.
“Oh, horse babies,” Alana said. She swatted Tegan’s thigh before she could correct her. “I know, I know. Foals, colts, fillies.”
“No tests today, I promise,” Tegan said. She halted in the middle of the driveway and pointed to a group of leggy youngsters that were wandering over to inspect the intruders. “These are yearling colts, and the weanlings are in the pasture just beyond them. Fillies are on this side. This year’s foals and the broodmares are closer to the house, just over the hill.”
She started driving again, and the horses kept pace as long as they could, skidding to a halt when they reached the fence, and wheeling around to gallop away again.
“They’re fast,” Alana said, watching over her shoulder until they crested the hill.
“They’re Thoroughbreds and bred for the track, although some will be jumpers or pleasure horses.”
She parked next to a large gray barn with cupolas and bright white trim and waved at the woman coming out to meet them. “We’re here to ultrasound one of the mares and find out if she’s pregnant,” she told Alana. “Plus, I’m sure we’ll have two or three while-you’re-heres.”
Alana paused as she was reaching for the door handle. “Whats?”
“While you’re here, could you check this colt’s leg? That sort of thing. I always schedule extra time when I come to one of these larger farms because I know I’ll be seeing more animals than expected. Once we’re done, I’ll take you to see the broodmares and foals.”
“Hi, Mariah,” Tegan said, getting out of the Jeep and shaking hands with the farm’s owner. “How are you?”
“I need a cigarette. That’s how I am.”
Tegan ignored both the comment and her own desire to give Mariah a lecture about the dangers of smoking. She’d tried before and knew she’d be wasting her time. “This is Alana. She’s helping me out today.”
Mariah grunted in Alana’s direction then turned back to Tegan. “C’mon. The mare’s in here.”
Tegan handed a box of supplies to Alana before reaching into the back seat and picking up her portable ultrasound machine.
Alana leaned close to her, nearly making Tegan drop the expensive tool. “Smoking is bad for you,” she whispered.
“Yes, I know. I’ve mentioned it before, but if you want to bring it up to her again, you can.”
She watched Alana glance over at Mariah, who was waiting near the barn entrance with an impatient expression. Her gray hair was tightly braided, and she was dressed head-to-toe in brown canvas. Tegan was sure she did all her clothes shopping in the Carhartt section of the local fee
d store. She carried a riding crop everywhere she went, and she was currently smacking it against her calf. She was unfailingly gentle with her animals and Tegan had never seen her use it on a horse, but she wouldn’t be at all surprised if she heard that a too slow stable hand had felt its sting.
Alana looked at Tegan again. “I think I’ll let it slide this time.”
“Wise choice.” Tegan bumped Alana with her shoulder and headed into the barn. Mariah went into the first stall and clipped a lead rope on the young mare, handing it to Alana. Alana led her into the aisleway, and Tegan let the mare inspect the machine before she set it down next to her.
She soon realized she needn’t have worried about Alana’s ability to act as her assistant. She seemed different around the horse, somehow. More confident. More like herself, Tegan decided, even though she was still new to horses. The mare cooperated by standing quietly during the procedure, merely flicking her tail at an occasional fly.
Mariah remained in the stall, refusing to look at the ultrasound because she was afraid it would bring bad luck. The mare had fooled her twice before so far this year. Once Tegan had finished her exam, she turned the machine so Alana could see the screen.
“Embryonic vesicle,” she said, pointing at the dark, roughly circular spot on the screen. “You can come out now, Mariah. She’s pregnant.”
“Good girl,” Mariah said, taking the lead rope from Alana and giving the horse a pat. “While you’re here, can you check the colt in the third stall? Looks like he bumped his eye in the pasture.”
Tegan winked at Alana as soon as Mariah turned away from them to lead the mare into her stall. “Sure. I have a little extra time today.”
The colt wasn’t as easy to handle as the mare had been, but Tegan managed to examine him and help Alana figure out how to hold him still at the same time, mainly by standing close to Alana and using her own body to pin the three of them in the corner of the stall. She stepped back once she had put some drops in his eye, suddenly noticing the slight chill in the shady barn when her body no longer was being warmed from contact with Alana. Tegan was secretly hoping to be asked to see another horse while she was there, preferably one that was enough of a handful for Alana to need her help, but Mariah gave them a bunch of carrots and sent them out to the broodmare pasture.
* * *
Alana reached through the fence and scratched the foal behind her ears, marveling at the puffy softness of her baby fur that Tegan said she would shed soon. She nibbled on the sleeve of Alana’s shirt while her mother chomped on the carrots Tegan was giving her.
The view from the top of the hill was expansive, with variegated fields spreading for miles on all sides, green pastures next to stubbly yellow fields of already cut grains. It was peaceful and quiet, but in a way that almost felt oppressive to Alana who wasn’t used to being this exposed. Even as she appreciated the beauty around her, she found herself longing for her safe and familiar walls.
“I went to the races at Belmont once with a group of coworkers when I was living in New York,” she said, gently pulling her sleeve out of the filly’s mouth before she managed to eat a button. “It’s all color and noise and crowds. Completely different from places like this where the horses come from.”
“Some thrive on the energy and the competition,” Tegan said, breaking a carrot into pieces and handing it to Alana to feed to the horse. “But I’m sure a lot of them would rather spend their lives in the country, if they had the chance.”
“Just like people.” Alana smiled as the horse’s whiskery lips tickled her palm. She had always been certain she belonged close to the excitement of a big city, and she still didn’t think this type of country living was for her, but she was beginning to understand the attraction of a small town. Well, she certainly felt an attraction to Tegan, who happened to live in a small town.
“New York, Philadelphia. Have you always moved around a lot?”
“Not much at all. My family ran a hotel in a suburb of Newark, and I lived there with my parents and grandparents until I went to college. We always had people coming to stay from other places, but we rarely traveled beyond the city. I promised myself I wouldn’t ever fall into the same rut. I did an internship in New York right after college, and then moved to Philadelphia. I took my second job there because it was with an international chain, and I thought I’d have opportunities to move someplace new and exciting.”
Yakima hadn’t been on her list of desirable exotic locations. She hadn’t even known what state it was in until she looked it up after seeing Chip’s ad.
“You’ll make it happen, even though you’ve had a small setback. If it’s what you really want, that is.”
“Absolutely,” Alana said, resting her chin on the fence and watching the foal tear off across the pasture while her mother followed at a more sedate pace. “Although I’m not hating it here as much as I thought I would.”
She surprised herself with the comment. She hadn’t even realized it was true until she said it out loud.
“Really?” Tegan asked, sounding as surprised as Alana had been. She leaned her back against the fence and looked at Alana. “What’s made you change your mind?”
You. Alana acknowledged it internally but didn’t say it. Tegan’s determination to rescue every person or animal who was feeling pain. The scent of apples and zing of arousal that Alana experienced every time she was near her. The way she looked at the scenery around her as if she could hardly bear how beautiful it was. And the way she made Alana begin to recognize that beauty herself, even though she hadn’t allowed herself to see it at first.
“I like the challenge of this job, and the satisfaction I feel when I make even a little progress,” she said instead. “And the puppies are fun, since I’ve never had pets before.”
The set time limit was helping, too. She could allow herself to fully be part of this community, be a dog owner, and be a ranch hand because she knew none of it was forever. She would be able to walk away from all of it without regrets or sorrow because it was all part of her plan. She wondered about Tegan—would she be willing to move their relationship to somewhere more intimate, more involved, if only for a short time? Alana was definitely willing to explore the option.
“I’ve always had pets but didn’t really make many friends until I was in high school,” Tegan said. “Your childhood sounds like it was interesting because you were exposed to new people all the time.”
Alana’s mind had been moving forward, looking at possibilities for a friendship-with-benefits with Tegan, and she struggled to return to the past. “I guess,” she said. “Everyone moved on, though. People would stay for one night, or two. Maybe a week. We had some regulars, but they were adults who came for meetings and conferences, not kids my age. I worked in the hotel, too, starting way before I was legally allowed to, so I never had time to get involved at school. It was boring, really.”
Tegan reached over and brushed Alana’s bangs to one side, her touch gentle against her forehead, relaxing the frown that had settled there.
“Was it really boring?” she asked. “Or was it very lonely?”
Alana opened her mouth to confirm her original assessment of boring, but she closed it again, caught unaware by a slight shift in her perspective. Tegan seemed to sense her need to process her thoughts, and instead of pressing with more questions, she suggested they head to lunch.
The ride from Toppenish to the even tinier town of Zillah was a short one, which suited Alana just fine since she didn’t want to dwell on her past for much longer. She had spent her childhood—and most of her adult life—surrounded by people. Hemmed in on all sides by other rooms with other occupants. Sharing a small suite with two other generations of her family. Making small talk with guests and seeing to their needs at all hours. She had never thought of herself as lonely before, had never thought someone so completely lacking a truly private life could ever be lonely.
Yakima was the type of place where she should feel isolated and alone
, with its wide-open spaces and ever-present nature. With long evenings in a big, empty house. But she didn’t feel lonely here. Not at all. Chip was friendly at work, and only a phone call away if she happened to spot a rat. The puppies and Lace managed to make the house feel warmer, even though they took up very little space in it.
And Tegan. Well, Alana had plenty of ideas about how Tegan could keep loneliness at bay during her year in Yakima. She just had to find a way to convince her that a short-term relationship could have enticing advantages.
Chapter Nine
Alana pushed aside her maudlin thoughts of loneliness once they arrived in Zillah. She couldn’t feel lonely when she was with Tegan, no matter whether they were riding quietly or talking, and the restaurant in front of her was festive and crowded enough to make heavy internal monologues impossible. Rosamund’s Diner and Tortilleria was housed in a huge warehouse style building alongside the highway and was brightly decorated in the colors of the Mexican flag. Black arrows painted on the walls pointed the way to the public entrance in front and the tortilla factory in back.
“Half the town must work here,” Alana said, noticing the number of cars and trucks parked in the back part of the lot. She opened the door and saw the line of people waiting to order at the counter and the crowded tables in the dining area. “Wow. And the other half eats here.”
Tegan laughed. “You’re right. This place has been here for decades, so it’s a local favorite, but it’s close enough to the freeway to draw lots of tourists, too. They sell the food they make wholesale to restaurants and grocery stores in Yakima, which gives them enough business to make them one of the largest employers in the area. Most of the people you’ll see in the restaurant are part of the family that owns it, though, along with local teens from the high school who are employed as part of a work-scholarship program.”