Then Karen had walked back into his life, and he understood what had been missing. Right away, he made certain assumptions, but she’d kept him at arm’s length. It was too soon, too much going on in her life. He had been happy to wait while she decided what to do next, but he’d hoped she’d settle in North Dakota. Now she was off running around Florida, talking about starting some new business.
When Erin wasn’t looking, Curt took his unfinished breakfast to the sink and rinsed it down the drain. When he’d received the offer to do a year in Spain, he was thrilled. He’d pictured dining in cozy neighborhood cafés, checking out old castles and ruins, swimming in the Med, and lingering over dinner until midnight. He never figured on doing it alone.
Curt felt Erin watching him, so he dried his hands and kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks for breakfast, sweetie. I’m gonna go feed the animals.” In the mudroom, he pulled on a pair of boots and a mackinaw, slapped on his cowboy hat, and grabbed his aviators. He crossed the yard to the barn and hauled open the big door. Duke, the buckskin gelding, eyed him from a stall. Curt climbed up into the hayloft, grabbed a pitchfork, and started throwing forkfuls of alfalfa down into the feed bins. A clump of hay landed on Duke, who stomped a hoof and shook his mane.
“Merry Christmas, you old bag of bones,” Curt said. He finished that chore, hung up the pitchfork and climbed down. Missy, smelling breakfast, trotted in from the corral. Her colt, almost as tall, tried to muscle his way around her, but she bared her teeth.
Curt filled the oat buckets, soothed by the sound of their contented munching. When he went to Spain, he was going to have to figure out what to do about them. Maybe he could board them with Patrick for the year.
Erin appeared at the barn door, her black hair woven into two long braids. She wore the Stetson and boots he’d given her for Christmas. “Want to go riding?”
“The horses are pretty sour,” Curt said. “Especially him.” He gestured toward the gelding.
“You’re tougher than he is.” Erin slipped into Missy’s stall. “Hey there, girl. How’s my baby?” The mare nickered in welcome.
Curt watched. Erin was twenty-two and almost gone. He figured once she finished her DVM in Davis, she’d end up in California. He wouldn’t have that many more opportunities to ride with her. Suddenly the future felt like it was closing in.
“Okay, sure. Let’s ride.” Curt snapped a lead on Duke, tied him to a rail outside the barn, and laid the pad and saddle onto his back. Other than flinching at the withers, Duke accepted the load. Curt pulled the belly strap tight. “I think the highline trail would be safer this time of year.”
Erin slipped the bridle over Missy’s ears and threaded her forelock through. “I don’t care where we go. I just want to ride.”
When Curt stuck the toe of his boot into the stirrup, Duke skittered sideways. “Whoa,” he shouted, and the horse stopped, shaking his head and mouthing the bit.
Erin swung up into the saddle. Missy trotted toward the gate, eager for some exercise. Out on the lane, they cantered away.
With a nudge from Curt’s heels, Duke sprang forward in a fast trot, chasing after his stablemate. Curt slipped easily into a post, and the ride smoothed out. He watched with admiration as his daughter rode Missy in a slow canter up ahead. When she was small, she’d been thrown, not enough to be hurt but enough to scare the hell out of him. It was never far from his mind.
Now she was lithe and strong, an accomplished horsewoman and on her way to becoming a professional veterinarian. The trajectory of her development both delighted and sobered him, for it served to mark the passage of time.
One hundred yards ahead, Missy trotted past an overgrown windbreak, and a flock of pheasant burst into the air with a great thunder of wings. Erin cried out, and the horse shied and bolted. While Curt watched, helpless, Missy took off with Erin bent low over her mount’s neck like a jockey. Curt gave Duke his head, and they tore after the mare, hoofbeats pounding against the frozen ground. At the top of a rise, Missy slowed as Erin regained control, first to a canter and then a fast trot. By the time Curt drew alongside, his daughter was comforting her horse with soft words and touch.
“Jesus,” Curt said, his heart pounding. He could feel Duke’s sides expanding and contracting as the horse blew. Missy stretched her neck and shook her mane.
“Sorry, Dad. The birds scared her. We’re okay.” Erin patted her horse’s neck.
“Let’s walk it off.” They nudged their mounts forward, and soon the steady clop-clopping of the hooves began to relax him.
Erin gestured at the endless blue sky; the distant farmhouses, each with a windmill; and the plowed fields lying fallow in the wintry cold. “I miss all this at Davis.”
“It’s not forever.” Although sometimes, sitting in that silent farmhouse alone, he thought it might be. Erin would be awarded her undergraduate degree in the spring, but it would take her another few years to earn her DVM. For all intents and purposes, she was already grown up and moving on. He had to think of his future too, but at least he didn’t have to worry about Erin.
In companionable silence, they rode down a slope to a dirt road that ran alongside a semifrozen pond. Out in the country, there was no sound except that of the horses and the occasional trill of a meadowlark.
“Dad, can I ask you something?”
He pulled his hat lower over his eyes. Erin had displayed a tendency of late to try to run him the direction she thought he should go. He figured that came with womanhood, but under the present circumstances, he knew who she wanted to talk about and wished she’d give it a rest. “I think you’re going to, regardless.”
“It doesn’t make sense that you’re alone, and now you have a shot at this amazing woman...”
“I’m glad you like her.”
“I do, and I think she’d be awesome for you. So what are you going to do about Karen?”
He looked at her from behind reflective sunglasses. “What we’re doing. We’re friends.”
“But when are you going to be more than friends?”
He glanced up at the sky, where a dozen vultures soared in a lazy circle. What difference did it make what he wanted? Karen’s mind was made up. The sooner he accepted that, the sooner he could get on with his life.
“When you were with her, you seemed really happy,” Erin said.
“You mean I wasn’t my usual crabby self?”
“I’m just saying it’s not good for you to be by yourself all the time.”
“I’m around people all day long.”
“Not that kind of people. Girlfriend kind of people.” She leaned forward in her saddle, grinning at him. “Soul-mate kind of people.”
“Erin, I’m fine. Leave it alone.”
“But Dad—”
“Drop it.” He leaned forward and clucked at his horse, leaving Erin’s words hanging in the frigid air.
CHAPTER 5
EARLIER THAT CHRISTMAS Day, Jessie stood near the sink, trying to choke down a bologna sandwich and get back to her books before the baby awoke. Now it was almost two o’clock, and she still had thirty or more pages to the end of the chapter.
What a screwed-up Christmas. She had planned to make a special holiday dinner for Lenny and sit down like a family to a nice meal. But Kegger had pounded on the door yesterday, saying he’d found them work. Jessie was incredulous. They hadn’t worked for weeks, and then all of a sudden, here comes a job on Christmas Eve, tearing down a couple of decrepit outbuildings on a nearby farm. Money didn’t grow on trees, so Lenny had left that morning, right after they opened their presents.
Jessie leaned down and slurped a drink of water from the faucet. The gift giving had left something to be desired. She had received a bottle of perfume from Lenny, a scent that would work better as roach killer, and a book from her mother and dad, which she tossed in the box to donate to the thrift center. Maybe next year, she and Lenny were more settled, Christmas would be more fun.
Wiping her chin with the back of her h
and, she stared out the window at their sad excuse for a yard. Nothing grew in a thirty-foot radius from the tree where the dog was chained, and pretty much everywhere else was bare and ugly, too. One of these days, she’d fix it up, as soon as she could talk Lenny into hooking up a drip line.
He’d promised they would have their holiday dinner on New Year’s Eve instead, so today, with him gone, she had the luxury of messing up the whole table with her school books. By the time he came home, she’d have them stashed out of sight. He got irritated at all the attention she paid to her classes, even though, as a concession to not having a babysitter for Sunshine, Jessie could only attend online. But that was okay. She was still learning.
And her classes were helping her make sense of her new life. According to her psychology book, Lenny was probably acting like a jerk to hide a lack of confidence. This was understandable since he was only twenty-three. Plus, her being the girl, he probably felt intimidated. Although Jessie felt sorry for him, she was happy to learn this about people. It made her feel safer somehow, understanding things. Even though she was younger than Lenny, she was pretty mature. Men grew up later. Lenny would be okay in a couple of years. Until then, she’d have to look out for all of them.
Sunshine began to whimper. You sure didn’t need a baby monitor in a single-wide. Every cough and fart could be heard clear out to the driveway. Jessie washed down the last of her sandwich with a slug of water, bitter today. The well must be getting low. They hadn’t had enough rain in the last couple years, although the weatherman had said things might improve soon. If this drought kept on, the wells would go dry. She wondered what they’d do then, out here in the country without a regular water supply. Lenny would never let them move closer to Atlanta. Maybe she could start stockpiling. There was room in the shed behind all his junk. Maybe if she got a little bit ahead, she could buy a bottle or two at a time and hide them.
Jessie tied her long white-blond hair in a ponytail and hurried to the bedroom. Sunshine, who had begun wailing in earnest, stopped when her mother, cooing and smiling, reached down and picked her up. Lenny had jammed a crib between the bed and the wall, but pretty soon the baby would be too big for the arrangement. The bedroom could handle a baby bed and a twin, though, so maybe Lenny would agree to sleep on the couch. He usually fell asleep there watching TV anyway, whether from too much beer or worn out from the occasional construction job.
The trailer was quiet, except for the baby fussing and Booger, the dog, barking in the front yard. Jessie sat back down at the kitchen table with Sunshine on her lap and gave the baby her sippy cup. The baby made happy little grunts as she filled her belly, and Jessie stared at her, mesmerized by the porcelain skin, the eyelashes that grew from flawless lids, the miniature nails on perfect fingers. Soon enough, the infant would be a toddler, and Jessie would miss these days, although they were a challenge with Lenny around. But hopefully he would get hired somewhere regular and they could move into a bigger place, maybe a double-wide. Maybe even a house someday, and then she could have another baby.
This morning, she had made his lunch, hurrying as fast as she could. He and Kegger drank coffee and fidgeted in the living room while she worked. The trailer would jiggle and rattle every time one of them got up, sat down, or got up again to look out the window.
At least he had a job today. He would make a few bucks. The further ahead they got, the less likely he’d split a gut when she asked for the money to enroll in the new semester. Finally, she’d finished his sandwiches, stuck them in a plastic grocery bag, and stood at the front door, holding the bag in one hand and Sunshine in the other. Lenny had kissed her, pushing her against the wall and sticking his tongue down her throat in a show of ownership while Kegger laughed. Jessie went to rinse her mouth out. Lenny wasn’t a stickler for brushing his teeth.
After they left, Jessie played with the baby for a while. Her daughter was amazing for not even a year old, already pulling herself up and trying to walk. Sandy had sent a wheeled walker as a peace offering, but it had stayed in the box since there was no surface in the trailer where the wheels could roll. They’d sold it on Craigslist and met the buyer in the parking lot of the Circle K store. Lenny had sat in the truck while she did the transaction. He had said it was for her protection and that he wanted to make sure the buyer didn’t knock her in the head and run off. Lenny had gotten mad when Jessie put her foot down and said the money was for baby food and diapers.
“The whole twenty bucks?”
“She needs it more than we do.” Jessie had talked fast as she got Sunshine out of the car seat. “I’ll be right back.” With that, she’d hurried into the store before Lenny got the idea to chase after her and take the money.
Now, in the quiet trailer, only the drone of a distant tractor broke the silence. That, and the baby’s hearty burp. She played with the baby for a while and then let her amuse herself with a walker that didn’t walk anywhere but held bells and buzzers and all manner of infant toys. After putting her down for another nap, Jessie went into the kitchen and filled an empty milk carton with water. She opened the door as quietly as possible so Booger wouldn’t start barking. The dog, tied to the thick elm with a rope, watched silently. Jessie tried not to look at him. Booger was a mean old mutt with an overdeveloped sense of territory. He tended to behave better if you didn’t make eye contact.
A cloud passed over as she dribbled a thin trickle of water on the azalea bush next to the porch. The lady down the road had given her the flowers last May when Jessie came home from the hospital with Sunshine. Jessie didn’t know the woman, except for the fact that she lived over the next hill. Still, it was a nice gesture, and the plant was doing well, even though one time Booger got loose, ran straight to the azalea, and pissed all over it. Jessie got real mad while Lenny laughed so hard he about peed himself. But the azalea seemed to thrive even then. Maybe pretty soon it would rain, and then she wouldn’t have to water it so much. Jessie emptied the last drops of water on the plant and went back inside.
Before she resumed studying, she did the dishes, swept the kitchen floor, and straightened the living room. The place was small and tight, bad enough when it was just her and Lenny. Now, with the baby, there was more pressure on all of them, especially Lenny, who was big. She hadn’t wanted kids, but there was that party last spring, and now here they were. But you couldn’t say it was a mistake when it got her the cutest, smartest, most adorable little kid in the whole wide world.
Outside the trailer, Booger howled. The dog was circling, making a spot for a nap. Jessie slipped on her black retro reading glasses. They looked like rhinestoned butterfly wings, which Jessie loved and Lenny hated. She piled a stack of textbooks on the coffee table, folded one leg under herself, and went back to studying for her psychology exam.
CHAPTER 6
THIS IS WHAT IT WOULD feel like to not have him in your life, she thought. Karen set the phone down. The party would start in an hour, and she needed to get a move on, but Curt’s phone call had chilled her.
What did you expect?
She picked up the phone again and studied the screen, thinking she could call him back. Promise to do something, throw him a reason to hope. But would she be leading him on?
She wished he understood. She needed to talk to him...really talk. He would understand. She eyed the phone.
It would have to wait until later. She would call him after the beach party, when he’d had time to settle down and she’d thought of what to say.
She reached into the fridge for her contribution to the potluck lunch: her special macaroni salad, a holdover from California. The Dickinson relatives had loved it, even if avocados were impossible to find. Karen divided the salad into two smaller containers suitable for transporting in the compartment of her Buddy.
As she motored toward the gate, another rider fell in beside her. It was Rita, also on her scooter. They rode two abreast to the park, passing the docks where dive and snorkel boats were loading passengers. Farther down the l
ane, a playground swarmed with kids who rode the swings and took turns going down the bright-yellow tube slide while parents perched on the picnic tables. The park quieted as they approached the mangrove forest, a self-guided tour area where one could trek the boardwalk under the spreading limbs of the oddly shaped trees. The road ended at a beach, where the CRS ladies had laid claim with shade covers and folding chairs.
They parked next to Fern’s black Silverado with the dually tires and the fifth-wheel hitch. Fern had owned a Chevy dealership back in Phoenix. Now retired, she and Belle went first class all the way. Belle, wearing a floppy red hat with miniature ornaments around the band, waved Karen over to a table laid out with casserole dishes, fruit bowls, and appetizer trays. At a second table, Fern tended bar. She handed Karen a red Solo cup filled with wine. “Glad to see you out and about. Nice of your boss to give you a break.”
“She’s a pretty decent gal if you give her a chance,” said Karen. She and Rita headed for the CRS ladies, who had set a circle of chairs in shallow water. The chairs were shaded by brightly colored umbrellas stuck in the sand.
“Hey, look who’s here,” said Margo. Her gold bracelets glittered against dark-coffee skin. “Come and sit with us.”
“I can make room.” Candace, a Paula Deen look-alike, raised her heavy body and scooted her chair around.
At the water’s edge, Karen and Rita kicked off their sandals and waded in. Largo Sound was clear and warm, and an offshore breeze riffled the water. All around the circle, women laughed and chattered in twos and threes. After saying hello, Karen settled into an empty beach chair, wiggling her toes until they were buried. Rita sank into the chair next to her and sighed. Grinning, the two women tapped cups. One year ago, Karen had been slaving away for a jerk of a boss in a soulless corporation. Now she was free. Well, sort of free. Broke, single, and homeless, unless you counted the RV, but still free to make up her own rules. Which were
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