by Claire Adams
“What in god’s name just happened?” her father asked, rushing over. “Lisa, honey, are you all right?”
The saddle slipped.
“Are you okay?” I asked Lisa, kneeling down on the ground next to her. Her eyes had filled with tears and her face was splotchy red, but she was slowly sitting up, backing away from me like she thought I was the one who’d done it to her. In a way, I had, because the only way the saddle would have slipped like that was if the cinch hadn’t been tightened properly. And I’d been the one who tacked Sweetpea up. But I had never, in all the years I’d been riding, forgotten to tighten the cinch, and I was pretty sure I double-checked after I’d tied all the horses to post.
But it had happened.
“Are you okay?” I asked again.
She nodded but wouldn’t look at me.
“I want to go back to the cabin,” she said in a soft voice. “I don’t want to go on the ride.”
“Okay, sure,” her father said. “Brianna, come bring your sister back to the cabin.”
“Maybe we’ll try another time,” the mother said, looking at me. “I just don’t think it would be a good idea for us to go out and leave Lisa here.”
“That’s completely understandable,” I said. “And again, I’m so sorry. I . . . I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’m glad no one was hurt.”
The mother smiled at me, but the father looked less willing to accept my apology. Lisa wouldn’t even look at me.
As they walked away, I heard the older brother say something about going swimming instead, that maybe that would be a safer bet.
“What happened?” Jesse asked as I led the horses back into the barn to untack them. “They decide not to go?”
“Something like that. The girl went to get on and the saddle slipped. Not just a little, but completely off of Sweetpea’s back, like it wasn’t even the least bit tight to begin with. And I am about ninety-nine percent certain that I tightened it, and checked it when I checked all the other horses.” I felt the cinch on Cinnamon, the horse I had just led in. “Yeah, hers is fine, and I bet all the others are too, because I know I checked them.”
Jesse gave me a sympathetic look. “Hey, it happens. Don’t be too hard on yourself. I forgot to do that once, but it was right before a competition. Reining, I think it was. I must’ve used a mounting block to get on, because it didn’t slip then, but when I got the horse to circle, the saddle near slipped right off. Talk about embarrassing. Good thing no one was hurt.”
He was right about that, but I saw him give me a second look. It was quick, but I caught it nonetheless. Jesse was a nice kid, so of course he wasn’t going to say anything, though I knew what he was thinking: I’d done it again. I’d forgotten about something important. Luckily, no one had gotten hurt. If that happened, because of something I forgot, I would never be able to forgive myself.
That afternoon, after I’d finished working with Ditto, Garrett asked me to come up to the house. Instead of going inside, though, we sat on the rocking chairs on the front porch, looking out toward the barn.
“Heard there was a little trouble earlier,” he said. “The Mackenzies didn’t end up going out on their ride.”
“They didn’t. Lisa, the little girl, changed her mind. The saddle slipped when she was mounting and she fell.”
I cringed, thinking about it again. There was no reason that should have happened.
“Sounds like the cinch wasn’t tightened at all.”
“I know. And I was the one who tacked Sweetpea up.”
Garrett made a sound in his throat. “That’s not good. Lucky it happened while she was getting on and not already up in the saddle.”
There was nothing I could say that would change any of it, and it felt trivial to apologize. I said I was sorry, though, because I truly was.
“If you need to take a day off or something, I understand that,” Garrett said. “You fell back into the work so easily that I sometimes forget that you weren’t working the past seven years. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“You’re not,” I said quickly. I wanted to be working; I didn’t want to take a day off. “The work—it’s good for me. I need to be doing it. It’s really the only thing I know how to do.”
“And you’re good at it. But forgetting certain things isn’t good, and someone could end up hurt, or worse. I don’t want to see that happen.”
“Neither do I. And it won’t happen again. I will double and triple check every saddle I put on, and make sure every hose is off. Trust me, Garrett, no one is as embarrassed as I am over all this.”
“I know it ain’t nothing you’re doing on purpose. I know it’s not like that.” He shook his head. “I always told Marie to just put me out to pasture once I started forgetting to do things like that. ‘Course, you’re too young to be thinking about dementia and that sort of thing.”
“Geez, I hope not.”
“If you ever start to feel like it’s too much, you can tell me. You can take a break. Scale back a little. Don’t feel like you have to be able to do everything, just like you used to. There’s nothing wrong with admitting something like that.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t quite agree with him. Or, I didn’t like what he was saying, as though he were saying I was a different person now, maybe couldn’t handle what I once was able to before all this stuff had happened and I’d gone to prison. I felt like the same person; being back on the ranch had made me realize this was true. Yet, here was Garrett, thinking that these things were happening because I’d taken on too much, too soon.
I’d have to show him otherwise. I needed to make sure that I didn’t forget about anything, that I wasn’t careless. I needed to prove it to myself as much as I did to Garrett.
The next day things seemed to go smoothly, at least with the morning chores. Once those were done, I was going to work some more with Ditto. I was about to go into the corral when I saw Ryan walking over, looking like there was something he wanted to say.
“Hey,” I said.
He had his hands in his pockets, his white Stetson pulled low, almost obscuring his eyes.
“I heard a real interesting story,” he started.
“Oh, yeah?” Somehow, I had a feeling this wasn’t going to be one of those stories that the two of us would be able to bond and share a laugh over. “And what might that be?”
“It’s funny and all, you letting me believe that you were new around here, that you were from somewhere else. Little did I know you’d grown up here. Guess that makes sense now, why Garrett would want you to take over the place. You must think I’m a real sucker.”
I was surprised that Garrett had even mentioned that to him, but I didn’t say anything about it. “Didn’t figure you were too interested in getting to know me better,” I said. “So, that’s why I didn’t elaborate about anything. Sometimes it’s just easier to let someone think what they want, since they’re usually going to do that, anyway.”
“Is that so?” Ryan yawned, as though this were the most boring conversation he’d ever been a part of. “Sounds like you’ve got your degree in psychology or some shit. See, where I come from, if a man is going to be working alongside another man, he’d at least like to know whether or not he’s ever murdered someone. Most people would, actually. Most of the people coming on vacation here probably would, too. You know, the families with small children and such.”
“There’s no need to bring it up.”
“I say there might be.”
“Then go ahead, if you want, but if the business fails, you’ll be the one out of a job.”
“That’s not the reason why I wouldn’t bring it up. You think ranch jobs are hard to come by? When you’re just out of prison, maybe, but not for someone like me. It wouldn’t take me long at all to find new employment. But I like Garrett. I like Marie. I don’t want to hurt their business. Just know that I know about you.”
“Okay,” I said. “Great. You know about me. How does that change anything?
”
“Does Wren know?”
“That’s not any of your business.”
“Now she’s someone I might tell. She certainly deserves to know who she’s getting cozy with.”
I tried to hide my smile. “I wouldn’t be too worried about her. From what she’s told me, she’s more than capable of taking care of herself.”
“Yeah, well.” He rubbed his hand across his chin. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“Well, Ryan, as heartwarming as this little chat has been, I’ve got some things to do, so I’m gonna get back to it.” He stood there for a moment, watching me, but once I ducked under the fence of the corral, he turned and walked away.
I clucked to the horse as I walked toward him, and Ditto remained where he was. He didn’t try to retreat, nor did he pin his ears back and swish his tail. He was used to me at this point, though we still had a long way to go in terms of getting a rider on him. It was progress, though, and I had a good feeling about the whole thing. You could tell just by looking at him that he was intelligent, and even if Garrett decided not to keep him on the ranch, if Ditto could accept a rider, he’d make a fine roping horse, or maybe even a competition horse.
I looked over my shoulder to make sure that Ryan was gone. He was, and I breathed a little sigh of relief. I didn’t care so much that Ryan knew about me, so much as I knew he disliked me. I didn’t want enemies. But I also wasn’t going to kiss someone’s ass just so they’d be friendly. Hopefully Ryan would just forget about the whole thing, or get bored with it. But I had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case.
19.
Wren
I knew exactly what Ollie would look like if he was clean-shaven, wore high-end clothing, and had a penchant for hair gel, because his brother, Darren, looked just like him.
“Ollie’s,” he said as he settled himself into a seat at the counter. He winked. “I like the name. Any correlation . . . .?”
“There might be,” I said. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“I don’t suppose you have an espresso machine in here.”
“We don’t usually get too many customers interested in drinking espresso.”
“That’s a shame. They don’t know what they’re missing. Actually, espresso’s a little too harsh for my taste—I like a latte. Or, if I’m watching my waist line, a cappuccino with skim milk.”
I looked at him sitting there, his long, slender frame. “Right,” I said with a smile. “I can totally see why you might need to be watching your waist line. You’re a whale.”
“Girl, you didn’t see me three years ago when I was basically subsisting on caramel lattes and that pub cheese from Trader Joe’s. And pita chips, but the pita chips were really just a vehicle for the pub cheese. God, that sounds so disgusting now.”
I laughed. “Well, whatever you diet secret is, the pounds just melted off.”
He leaned forward, his face stoic. “Methamphetamine,” he said. He was only able to hold the serious expression for another second before his face broke out into a grin. “Kidding! I’d never do meth. Well, maybe I would if it didn’t do such awful things to your teeth and complexion. I’d be down for being able to stay up for days—think of how much more shit you’d be able to accomplish!”
“I like sleep too much to ever forfeit it,” I said.
He gave me the once over. “You certainly don’t need your beauty rest. My brother did all right for himself. I am assuming that he mentioned going to San Francisco?”
“He did.”
“And I’ll now go a step further and assume that you’re going to help talk him into it? I can tell that he’s on the fence.”
“You’re good.”
He smiled. “I know. But really. It’d be great if the two of you would come for a visit. Ollie might not love it, but I know you will. And I think he’ll appreciate the change of scenery, even if it’s just for a little while. All he’s ever known is either this town or prison. Talk about depressing.”
“I love this town,” I said.
“Sweetie.” Darren patted my hand. “No need to get defensive. Hell, if I wasn’t a gay man, I might not mind this town that much, either. But I really would love for the two of you to come out and visit me in the city. I was a little presumptuous and went ahead and talked to Ollie’s boss about him getting a few days off, and he agreed that he could go in a couple of weeks. For just a week, mind you, but I went ahead and bought the tickets. I figured—”
“Oh, you don’t need to buy us the tickets!”
“I know I don’t, but it’s my treat. They weren’t that expensive, anyway, so don’t even give it a second thought. I even took a trip down nostalgia lane and printed them out at the library, and I want to give them to you to hang onto. I figure if I give them to Ollie he might misplace them, or, they might conveniently blow away in the wind or something.” He dug around in the leather satchel he had placed in the seat next to him. “Here they are,” he said.
“That’s a nice bag.”
“It’s Kate Spade. Got it at Saks Fifth Avenue, where I will most certainly take the both of you and we can go on a little shopping spree, if you’d like. San Francisco’s changed quite a bit since Facebook and Twitter moved their offices in, but the shopping is still excellent. I know Ollie will hate every second of a shopping trip, so maybe we could send him to explore the Botanical Gardens or something while we make a day of it. There’s so much to do out there, so many great restaurants to eat at. You could even look at it like you’re going out there to see how other restaurants are doing things—not that I’m saying you need any improvement.” He cast his gaze around the dining room. “Well, there might be a thing or two I’d change about the décor . . . .”
I laughed and swatted him on the arm. I couldn’t remember ever feeling more comfortable with a person in such a short time. I felt like I’d known him for years. “I would love to do that,” I said. “And don’t worry about Ollie—I’ll convince him that he wants to go.”
Darren grinned. “I have no doubt you can,” he said. “Throw in a blow job or two if you have to.”
That evening, I was lounging around my house, thinking about what I should pack when I went to San Francisco. Ollie’s brother just reappearing again after so long had been an unexpected but very welcome development, and I was thrilled at the idea of getting to go on a little vacation with Ollie, to a city I’d always wanted to visit. Having Darren as our host would just make everything even more fun.
I was rummaging through my closet for my old suitcase that I had last used when I packed up my stuff and left my parents’ house when I heard my phone beep. Incoming message.
It was from Allison. Are you home? I’m coming over, she wrote. I need to talk. Please tell me you have some wine.
Affirmative on all counts, I typed back. She was over less than two minutes after I pressed send.
“Where’s the wine?” she asked, immediately going over to the refrigerator.
“Where it always is. Pour me a glass, too, while you’re at it. I have something to tell you, too.”
She poured a rather large glass and took a big gulp before setting it down and pouring me a smaller, more modest glass.
“What’s your news?” she asked. “I think I’d rather hear yours first.”
That should’ve been a clue, but I felt the grin stretching across my face before I could stop it. “I’m in love. I can’t believe I’m actually saying that out loud, but I am.”
“Aww!” Allison held her almost empty wine glass up to me. “Now that deserves a toast! Really? That’s certainly the best news I’ve heard all day.”
“Really. But what’s going on? We can talk about me being in love later.”
She put her glass down and rubbed her eyes. “Well, I can’t believe that I’m going to say this. How old I am? Wait, don’t answer that. I’m old enough to know better.”
I gave her a quizzical look. “What are we talking about . . .? I’m a little lost.”
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She sighed. “I’m pregnant.”
“Oh!”
But I could tell by the look on her face that this was not something to be celebrating.
“I thought I was just getting a cold, then when that didn’t go away, I figured I was just chronically run down, but then yesterday, and this morning, I woke up and barfed, so I took a test. And despite the fact that I’m on the pill—and I remember to take it every day—I still somehow managed to get pregnant.”
“So, what are you going to do?” I asked as she killed the glass of wine.
“I’m obviously not keeping it,” she said as she poured a refill. “There’s no way. Three kids? I know plenty of women can handle it, but I am not one of them.”
“You’re a great mom,” I said. “You really are.”
“Looks can be deceiving, and, just because I’m a great mom to two kids, doesn’t mean it’ll be that way for three. The days of not sleeping through the night and changing eight million diapers are long past. I am not going back and doing that all over again. That part of my life is over. Finito.” She raised her glass again. “Which is why I am indulging in all these glasses of wine. Oh, and another thing—you can’t tell Nigel.”
The whole time I’d been nodding along, prepared to support her in whatever decision she came to. But I frowned when she said that about Nigel.
“Really?” I asked. “You’re going to keep it from him?”
“I have to, Wren. And I know it makes me sound like a cold heartless bitch, but you don’t know the man the way I do and though Nigel will tell you he’s pro-choice and he’s even donated money to Planned Parenthood before, if it’s his child, well . . . it’s different, then. It’ll turn into this huge awful argument and then he’ll try to stall me or something until it’s too late. Or, I tell him, and tell him in no uncertain terms that there’s not a fucking thing he can do about it, and he gets his heart broken. I know it sounds dramatic, but that’s really how he’s going to take it.”