“Do you want some eggs?”
“No.” Mindy buttered her toast and sat down at the table.
“So tell me about this horse,” her mother said, sitting down across from her. “How did you come about…?”
“Oh, it’s a long story. Well, I guess not too long. He was about to go to a killer.”
Richard raised the newspaper. “Probably one of these lowlifes.”
“And we went and bought him out from under the guy. He’s the one that snuck into the barn last night.”
“What?”
Mindy glanced at her dad. “Oh, you didn’t tell her that part?”
“No.” He shook his head. “No.”
Mindy sighed. “We have him on surveillance tape.”
“Surveillance?” Her mother’s mouth dropped open, an identical expression she’d passed on to both her daughters. “Surveillance?”
“Well….” Her father cleared his throat. “Under the circumstances, and with this theft ring going on, and uh… Bill and I….” He sipped his coffee. “We just thought it would be a good idea. It is a good idea.”
Mindy nodded.
Christine sat quietly, taking in all this new information. “Dad says Leah Oliver’s back.”
“What?” Mindy’s mouth dropped, just as her mother’s had.
Christine looked at Richard. “She doesn’t know?”
“No,” he said. “Not until now.”
“Oh dear,” Christine said, repeating her lament from earlier. “What is wrong with this family?”
They all sat drinking their coffee in relative silence for a moment, Mindy eating her toast.
“Wait a minute,” Christine said. “I thought we didn’t have any empty stalls. Where is this horse?”
“He’s in the blanket stall.”
“With all the blankets?”
“No, Mom.” Mindy laughed. “We moved them first. Geez!”
“I don’t understand. So he’s…?”
“Staying with us until….” Mindy sighed. “You’re giving me an upset stomach with all these questions.”
Her mother stared. “I’m giving you an upset stomach? Oh really?”
Mindy and her dad laughed. “It’s complicated, Mom, and sometimes it’s better if you don’t know these things. You have other things to think about, like little David.”
“Don’t try and change the subject. Don’t do that. I hate when you do that.”
“See. You’re getting upset again.”
“I am not getting upset,” Christine said, in a voice an octave or two higher than normal.
When Richard reached over to touch her arm, she jumped.
“See!” Mindy said. “Look at you! You’re freaking out!”
Christine laughed. “All right. All right. ALL RIGHT!”
All three of them laughed, and when they grew quiet again, Mindy looked at her mom. “The problem, Mom, is this horse thinks he’s in his forever home,” she said, dragging out each word.
“Why are you talking that way?”
Mindy laughed, talking the same way again. “I’m trying to gauge how much to say before you start freaking out again.”
“All right. All right. Didn’t I say all right?”
“Yes, you did. I got it.”
“And?”
“And Hillary says….”
“Hillary? Oh no, not Hillary. I mean the girl’s nice and all, but.…”
Mindy laughed. “See, the horse has issues.”
“Issues? This is what Hillary said?”
“Yes. And I’ve witnessed some.”
“Wait. You’re right. I think I’ve had enough truth for the moment. I’m going to go do my walk.” Christine stepped over the dogs and grabbed her sweat shirt and left. “I need some down time.”
Mindy looked at her dad in her mother’s wake. “See, now that’s why I don’t tell her anything.”
Richard nodded. “But in the end, you’re always going to want her on your side.”
“I know.”
~ * ~
Christine walked every morning rain or shine and even on snowy mornings unless it was a blizzard. She claimed it was how she cleared her head. She’d gotten into the habit of walking back when she and Richard were essentially separated, but still living in the same house for Bethann’s sake. She started by walking the dog Bethann had inherited when Leah Oliver passed away.
She never took to jogging, didn’t think her knock-knees would hold up, and started walking just a short distance, then a little longer, and a little longer, and had worked her way up to three miles each day - a complete loop of the Maple Dale Equestrian Community. It was never in her routine to walk down to the barn. The horses would expect to be fed and she had no idea what each one ate, how much hay to give them, who was who. She knew Malaki. She knew Easy To Do. She knew Mrs. Butchling’s horse Dew Drop. She didn’t know any of the rest or one from the other.
“Surveillance.” The word echoed in her mind, the purpose. They’d led a very protected life at Maple Dale. There was very little crime. Vandalism here and there, mostly kids: no need for police patrol. She wondered if all that would change now. She never once felt threatened here, not even when the power went out or before the time change each year when she would set out walking in the dark.
She thought about her daughters – so alike and yet so very different. Whereas Bethann was quiet and methodical, thinking things through, Mindy operated on impulse, snap decisions, raw emotion and action. Mindy would jump in with both feet to save the world, and Bethann would be close by to smooth out all the wrinkles and make sure everyone was okay.
As Christine passed Bethann and Benjamin’s home, she glanced in the window. Bethann had been waiting for her to walk by and had David in her arms, waving his little hand at her. Christine waved back and threw them kisses. All was right with the world for a moment. Then the sight of the barn and the possibility of Leah Oliver having returned grounded her in worry.
If Leah was concerned, being of the heavenly realm, how could Christine herself not worry? What had possessed her to return? It has been years since anyone sensed her presence. When she heard a car behind her, she stepped closer to the berm and glanced over her shoulder.
Mindy slowed to a stop. “Do you want to come meet the new horse?”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”
Christine smiled. “I’ll see you down there.”
“No, come on. Hop in.” When Mindy reached across the Jeep and pushed open the passenger door, her mother hesitated then climbed in and sat back.
“No baja-ing down through the pastures this time. Take the road.”
Mindy laughed. “I love you, Mom.”
“You too, honey. I just wish you didn’t worry me so much.”
“I don’t. I won’t.” No sooner said than they both saw Bill’s truck make the turn towards them.
He slowed and rolled down the window. “I’m just heading up to talk to your dad. Hey, Christine.” Bill leaned. He hadn’t realized Christine was with Mindy at first.
“Is this about the surveillance tape?” she asked.
Bill hesitated.
“She knows,” Mindy said, tipping her head toward her mom.
“Yes. We’ve got an identity on the man.”
“Is he a criminal?” Christine asked.
“Not really. Bad checks, petty lawsuits, unpaid traffic fines. That type of thing.”
“Is he implicated in the horse thefts?” Christine asked, naturally sounding like a lawyer after being married to one her entire adult life.
“No. Not at all. Where are you two going?”
“Down to feed.”
Bill frowned. He knew their schedule and habits as well as anyone. Christine never went to the barn this time of morning. Mindy read his mind. “She’s going to meet the new horse.”
“Oh.” Bill nodded. “All right. I’ll see you all later.”
At the barn, Christine climbed
down out of the Jeep and was startled as Malaki let out that banshee scream of hers. “Wonder what that’s all about.” Mindy muttered. This time of morning, Malaki usually greeted her with an insistent huh-huh-huh kind of nicker, not a scream. She could see her standing at her stall front. She appeared to be okay. All of the horses appeared to be okay. Mindy stared. What was that down at the end of the aisleway?
“Rex?”
At the sound of his name, he came trotting down the aisleway toward her. Christine stepped out of his way, her back to the wall.
“How did you get out?” Mindy asked, stroking his neck. “What did you do?” She reached for a lead shank, put it around his neck, and walked him back down the aisleway. His stall gate was open, bent and twisted, the snap broken. “Did you do that?”
The horse leaned his head down to look at what she was pointing at. “Oh, yeah right. Act innocent.” She grabbed his halter, put it on him, and led him outside to the indoor turnout. “Stay put.” All the other horses, after a temporary state of discombobulation caused by Rex being loose for who knew how long and probably walking up and down the aisle visiting with everyone, not to mention the clang and commotion of when he kicked his stall gate open - returned to customary morning behavior and were nickering and pawing for their hay and grain.
Mindy put Rex in the first turnout, closed the gate and secured it, then walked back to the barn to feed the horses. Rex beat her to the door. “What?” Mindy turned to look at the gate, still intact. “There’s no way he could have jumped it. He must have jumped one of the side rails.”
When she caught up with him and reached for his halter, he dodged her. Christine ducked inside the tack room, holding both barn cats, and stood in the door watching. Each horse, being slightly territorial of their stall space, not to mention hungry for breakfast, took to lunging at him, teeth snapping, and kicking and squealing. Malaki nipped him on the back of his butt and took to screaming like an Olympic champion after a game-winning score. Each horse Rex dodged sent him further and further down the aisle. When he got to the end, the two horses there sent him ducking and dodging his way back up the aisle and into his stall.
Mindy stood looking in at him. “Wow. Never a dull moment with you around for sure.”
The horse looked at her innocently and took to pawing and nickering for his breakfast along with all the other horses. Mindy looked at his open stall gate, bent and twisted, left it open, and walked down and climbed the ladder to the hayloft. “Stay put, Mom!”
“Don’t worry!” Christine was still tucked safely inside the tack room clutching Piggly and Squiggly. “We’re not going anywhere.” She watched her daughter throw the hay bales down, watched as she climbed back down the ladder as agile as a fireman, watched as she opened the bales with the flick of the pocket knife, forever in her pocket. Mindy tossed the hay into the horse’s stalls without so much as a glance. It was as if she could do this in her sleep. Christine watched as she talked to the new horse. “Good. You’re staying put, you silly thing.” She watched as Mindy fed the horses their grain, watched as she topped off the horses’ water buckets.
“He’s safe, Mom, if you want to go talk to him,” Mindy said, of the new horse. “He’s not going anywhere. The horses schooled him good.”
Christine placed the cats on the bench and walked down and looked in at the large bay. “I can’t believe he jumped that fence, and so effortlessly yet.”
“Did you see him?”
“Yes. He just jumped. Right there on the end. I saw his face and then he was on the outside. How can a horse jump like that?”
“The more puzzling question is how can a horse jump that fence and not hit his head.” Being a converted pole barn the ceilings were low. “It’s a wonder he didn’t knock himself out.” Mindy dragged the hose to the next stall and shook her head. “Bijou, is there some reason you have to poop in your water? What are you trying to tell me?” Mindy laughed. This horse had this habit for years. No matter where they hung his bucket, he pooped in it. “Bijoooouu.”
Christine watched her daughter remove the horse’s water bucket and haul it out front to dump it. She marveled at her strength, marveled at her posture, one arm out for balance, one lugging the heavy weight. How had she grown up so fast? How did she grow up so strong? She watched as Mindy kneeled down to pet the barn cats, watched how she stood at the spigot and rinsed out the bucket and tossed the water in a perfect arc out over the grass. She watched and watched and watched. It was as if she were observing her daughter’s life in slow motion, watching her forever, watching her for a lifetime. And that was when she saw the ghost of Leah Oliver standing off to the side, watching over her as well.
Chapter Nineteen
Mrs. Butchling was about to take the biggest personal-level risk of her widowed life. She’d thought about it all night and made up her mind. She was going to “put herself out there” as the younger generation would say. She was going to flirt with a man, and that man was Finney. If her effort bombed and he looked at her as if she were from another planet, another time zone, then so be it.
“I won’t be brazen,” she said to herself. “I’ll just….” She sighed. “Oh God, what am I thinking? “ She sat in her SUV in the parking lot as a monumental case of proverbial cold feet washed over her. “What if he comes right out and says, ‘Are you crazy? You’re probably older than me! I don’t like old women!’”
She looked at her face in the mirror and studied the myriad of wrinkles, the sagging eyelids, the…. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She couldn’t remember the last time she had a blemish on her face, let alone a full-blown pimple right smack dab in the middle of her forehead. “That’s what you get for having hormonal thoughts at your age.”
A clanging noise nearby startled her, and she jumped.
Finney waved from the dumpster. “Morning, pretty lady!”
Mrs. Butchling glanced around the parking lot. Is he talking to me? She waved back just in case.
“Come on in,” he said. “I’m open.”
Mrs. Butchling motioned she’d be right there and ventured another look in the mirror. “Pretty lady?” She got out of her SUV with a smile on her face, albeit tentative - drew a deep breath before entering the coffee shop and looked around as her eyes adjusted to the darkened room.
“I don’t turn on the lights till I get my first customer each morning,” Finney said.
“That’s fine with me. I think I just need to blink a few more times.”
Finney smiled. She obviously had on a type of glasses that darken in the sunlight. With each passing second, he saw more and more of her eyes. “So what’ll it be? Wait, I think I remember. Plain decaf with French vanilla cream. Or was that French vanilla cream with a little decaf.”
“Either way as long as it’s piping hot.” No sooner said, she berated herself. Talk about dating one’s self. Who says piping hot anymore?
“Piping hot it is. Do you want a table or sit here at the bar?”
“The bar’s fine,” she said, sitting down.
Finney mixed her coffee and cream and set it down in front of her. “So you still ride?”
Still? Mrs. Butchling felt the blood drain from her face. “Yes,” she said, simply.
Finney busied himself with morning prep work and every once in a while would look at her. “Why so sad?” he finally said.
“Oh, I’m not sad. Not really. Sometimes I guess.”
“Missing your husband?”
She stared. He remembered. She remembered. Widow. “I missed him for a long time while he was still alive.”
Finney looked up from his work station. “Oh?”
“Alzheimer’s,” she said.
Finney nodded. “That had to be hard.”
Mrs. Butchling hesitated. “Yes. It was. He was healthy as a horse otherwise. He just wasn’t him anymore. It was beyond sad. If he hadn’t gotten mean….” She shrugged. “It was part of the disease.”
Finney nodded again, studying her expression.
“You want a Danish?”
Mrs. Butchling paused. Sugar, so early in the morning? “Yes.”
“Cheese or Apricot?”
“Both .”
“Ah, living life free and easy. I like that in a woman.”
Mrs. Butchling smiled, wondering. Am I flirting? I wonder how I’m doing? Oh my God, I’ll bet I have the most ridiculous expression on my face, pimple and all. She smoothed her hair down, wishing it was longer, wishing she could cover up the blemish.
Finney brought over her plate of Danish and stood right there in front of her for a moment, staring out the window. She ventured a furtive glance at his profile. “What?” she asked, as he just kept standing there, staring out the window.
“Feels like a storm,” he said. “Nothing on radar though.” He walked over to his prep area and glanced back. “I’m a bit of a weather junkie.”
“You too? So am I.”
When he nodded, Mrs. Butchling smiled proudly. Now that was flirting, she thought. I’m getting the hang of this.
~ * ~
Mindy moped around the barn for hours - helped with turnout, cleaned tack, and raked outside the front and back barn entrance. Fridays were light schooling days. She got on one horse early in the morning and one just before lunch time. She sat down in the office and propped her feet on Bethann’s desk. She gave some thought to driving up and down the highway looking for Shane and apologizing to him, but realized how pathetic she would look tracking him down. Then she remembered his saying they were done surveying in this area. “How would I know where he’s at now?” No way was she phoning the office again where he worked. “Not in this lifetime.”
She glanced around the office - Leah Oliver’s old office. Little had been done to change it since Leah was the Headmistress of the Maple Dale Equestrian Center. Little needed to be done. It was perfect just the way she’d left it. Mindy couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for Bethann to be the one to find her best friend that morning lying on the aisleway floor in the barn, dead and ice cold. Mindy shivered. Funny how I’ve never met her in real life and yet I feel as if I’ve known her all my life.
Maple Dale ~ My Forever Home (Maple Dale Series) Page 13