Moonlit

by Jadie Jones

  I glance down at mine. It doesn’t hurt anymore, but something about the whole thing makes me nervous. “And you put it on me while I was sleeping?” I ask. She flushes pink as her gaze drops to her lap.

  “I’m sorry. I know how weird that sounds. I was getting bored all by myself. I was hoping you’d wake up.” She frowns. “Are you mad?”

  “No, I’m not mad. That’s pretty weird, but I’m not mad.” I can’t help but laugh.

  “Good.” She opens her mouth to say something else but then closes it again. The expression on her face reminds me of a cat that’s just swallowed the family goldfish.

  “What?”

  “I have a surprise for you.” She’s so excited that she looks like she might levitate right off the bed.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not telling.”

  “You know I can’t let you do anything else for me. I’ll be doing odd jobs for you until I’m eighty just to pay you back for the hospital bill.”

  “It’s not for you. It’s something I did for myself that I think you’ll appreciate.” She purses her lips. My eyes narrow with wary interest.

  “You are one of the most impulsive people I have ever met.”

  “So. Life is short,” Vanessa retorts. “Get dressed. I put some clothes for you in the closet. I stuck your boots in there too.”

  “Okay, I’ll be down in a sec,” I say and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she says and hurries through the door.

  I let my eyes wander the rest of the room. My room. For as long as you want, Vanessa’s words echo in my head. But as I pull on a pair of jeans and a sweater from the closet, I can’t help but wonder at what price. Nothing comes without a cost.

  “I grabbed a jacket for you. It’s pretty cold out this morning,” she says as she watches me descend the staircase, her fingers drumming impatiently on the glass doors. She gave me the truck with as much enthusiasm as a hand-me-down t-shirt. What could possibly have her so excited?

  “I don’t usually like surprises,” I caution as I reach the bottom.

  “We’ll see about that.” She hands me a green quilted jacket, pushes the doors open, and practically drags me outside. I shrug on the sleeves and follow her around the far side of the house. She covers my eyes with her hand as we turn the corner.

  “You’re starting to freak me out, Vanessa. What the heck did you do?” I playfully tug at her hand, but she lets it fall. “Did you build a . . .” barn. The word stalls on my tongue. A stone-front barn peeks out from a grove of oak trees tucked into the side of a gentle slope.

  “What do you think?”

  “This wasn’t here yesterday,” I stammer, waiting to wake up.

  “Yes, it was. You can’t see it from the back of the house because of the hill over there.” Vanessa points at a steep rise in the landscape. “I’ve always wanted to have a couple of horses and maybe even learn how to ride. And it increases the property value.”

  I can’t even fathom what this property must be worth. But right now I don’t care. I don’t care about anything other than that perfect barn, and that it’s within walking distance of my bed. My whole life, this is all I’ve ever wanted.

  “Ouch,” I laugh as I pinch the skin on my hand. This is really happening. Maybe things do happen for a reason. If I hadn’t been riding out there that night, if I hadn’t been in that accident, I wouldn’t be here. I resist the urge to sprint the distance to the curved iron gateway that marks the entrance to the farm, deciding instead to savor every step.

  The barn’s exterior reminds me of a fortress. Polished black stones are placed together so intricately that whatever adhesive they used isn’t visible between them. Black fencing lines a neat row of large paddocks. Water troughs dot the front corner of each enclosure. I hold my breath as I turn back around, prepared for the perfect barn to have vanished off the hillside. I let out a laugh as Vanessa watches me from where she leans against a wide doorway.

  “This is the most incredible day,” I shout up to her.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” she calls back and waves me up to her.

  She leads me down the single walkway that cuts the stable in half. Three generously sized stalls line each side of the aisle. A tack room and a wash stall cap the end of each row.

  “So, you like it?” she asks.

  “Are you kidding? Understatement.” The smells of cedar and hay tug at a locked door under my ribs. My eyelids blink as fast as they can, and I’m glad Vanessa is behind me.

  “I haven’t shown you the best part.” She moves toward a little black box mounted halfway up the wall by the entrance. “No one is taking horses from you ever again.” She presses a red button and instantaneously thick metal doors descend to cover every door and window. Automatic lighting kicks on as the sunlight is completely snuffed out.

  “Wow.” The word escapes in a whisper.

  “Isn’t it great?”

  “It’s definitely effective,” I manage.

  “You know what we need now, right?” she asks as the security doors retract.

  What else could she possibly need?

  “Try to guess.”

  I look around, perplexed. Pitchforks and brooms are neatly hung on the walls adjacent to the doorway. A stack of fresh hay bales and two bags of feed sit outside the tack room. Each stall has two buckets for water and a bucket for grain. The scent of leather is strong in the air, which means there’s probably at least one saddle in the tack room. Two helmets dangle from a hook beside the wash stall. Everything she would need to buy a horse. Horses.

  “Vanessa, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea right now. There’s a lot to consider before you get into owning a horse,” I say.

  “I’ve always wanted to learn how to ride. And it’s not every day that you have the number one junior rider in the country living with you.”

  “That was two years ago. Who told you?”

  “I don’t care, and it was Dana.”

  “She can’t keep a secret.” I laugh and shake my head. “Dana would not believe this place. I need to call her. Can we have her out sometime so she can see it?”

  “Of course. She knows all about it. She even helped me name it,” Vanessa says.

  “What did you decide on?” I can’t imagine a name special enough.

  “Let me show you. The name plate just came in this morning.” She tows me to the tack room. Two saddles rest on their pegged holders, and a stack of white saddle pads rests on a custom wood tack box. The corners of a large metal plate peek out from a velvet covering.

  “Voila!” Vanessa strips the sheet from the copper name plate. Three interlocking circles—my mark—gleam from the smooth surface. “Moonlit Farm” is inscribed underneath in beautiful cursive. I try to swallow the crush of feelings but I choke on them instead.

  “Are you okay? You hate it,” she says, crestfallen.

  “No,” I stammer. “I don’t. Not at all.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “The name. How did you come up with the name? Did Dana tell you?”

  “She did,” Vanessa answers. “She told me that your dad picked Moonlit out as a baby and trained her for you. I wanted to honor them both. I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s perfect,” I whisper. A long forgotten dream of running my own farm comes roaring back. I close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to teach and train here. I’d wanted to breed Moonlit and start my own line of show horses. This could be the perfect place to get started.

  “So you’ll help me?” Vanessa asks. Her voice snaps me out of my daydream.

  “Help you what?”

  “Find a horse. And teach me how to ride.”

  “If and only if we find a horse that I think is suitable for you to learn on.”

  “And one for you.”

  “No.”

  “Tanzy, we can’t have just one horse in this beautiful barn. I worked so hard . . . okay, that’
s not true. A few very nice men worked so hard on this place. One horse would be lonely. Just say yes, for goodness sake. Why are you so against good things happening to you?” She scowls at me and I have to stifle a laugh.

  “Vanessa, I just think it might be a little rash to—” She holds up a hand and cuts me off.

  “Wait, what am I asking you for? I’m going to buy six horses. Now. So you can have a say in what I buy or not.”

  “I think bringing in six horses at one time is not a good decision,” I reiterate, even though I can’t help but wonder at the possibilities.

  “Did I ask you?”

  “Vanessa.”

  “Are you coming or not?” She crosses her arms across her chest and cocks her head to the side. I sigh and study her stubborn face.

  “Fine. I’ll come. But let the record show that I think this is a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “You can thank me later. I’ll meet you at the car,” she says and jogs ahead to grab her keys from the house.

  I guess when she said ‘now’ she wasn’t exaggerating. I slow my steps as I head back to the circle driveway, steeling myself against the dread that I expect to hit me like a runaway train at any moment. But it doesn’t come. I lean against her car and close my eyes. Maybe I really could pick up where I left off. Start a show farm with Vanessa. It takes money to get started, and she seems to have plenty. My imagination cautiously fires up again, teeming with possibilities. I smile and reach for the horseshoe, but my fingers come up empty. My eyes drop to my chest as my hands feel frantically at my neck.

  “All set?” Vanessa calls as she closes the glass front doors behind her.

  “Have you seen my necklace?”

  “What necklace?”

  “The one I found in the garden. I haven’t taken it off since. Have you seen it?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She waves her hand in my direction as she opens the driver’s side door. “You were wearing it when you fell asleep yesterday. I put it in the drawer of your bedside table. It’s such a delicate chain. I didn’t want you to break it in your sleep. I know how much you like it.”

  Well, I guess that was thoughtful. I reluctantly pull the door open and start to move inside the car, but for some reason I can’t stand the idea of leaving it behind. Lucas told me to keep it on. It seems important for some reason. He can turn into a different person, for crying out loud; if he says it’s important, it probably is.

  “Do you care if I go get it? I will be really fast.” I ask as casually as I can manage.

  “We’re already running late for our first appointment.”

  “You made an appointment?”

  “I got really excited yesterday while I was waiting for you to wake up. So I looked up some horses for sale online. I made some calls about a few that I liked the most.”

  I bite my lip and glance back up at the windows lining my room.

  “It’s safe, I promise,” she says.

  I can’t explain why I need to get it without telling her about Lucas. And he was very adamant about not doing that. I grudgingly relent and slide into her car.

  “Okay, where are we headed?” I beg the excitement that had found me earlier to make an encore appearance, but it seems to have disappeared.

  “I’m not telling. All I’m going to tell you for now is that you’re in for a very busy day.” She hands me a thick folder. Pedigrees and photographs are organized between tabs for six different farms.

  “I can’t believe you did all of this. You think I’d stop being so surprised by you.”

  “I really like surprises,” she says as she adjusts her sunglasses. She gives me a devious grin and then floors the gas. I should’ve asked if we could take the truck.

  12 Horse crazy

  The first farm is only fifteen minutes away. The red and white barn is lined with evergreen hedging. An outdoor arena bustles with trainers and their students. The sights and sounds are like regaining a lost memory.

  As we wander through the sale barn, I explain to Vanessa that there are three main things to consider when evaluating a prospective horse: how it’s built, how well it uses its body, and how it feels about work. Vanessa hangs on every word. She scrawls notes on a pad of paper. After a few minutes she begins to point things out herself.

  “You’re a quick study,” I say. She beams and smiles down at her notes.

  “Good morning ladies,” a burley voice calls down the aisle. I immediately recognize the leathered face and dark eyes peering out from beneath a red ball cap as Jim Dunn, a trainer my father knew from the show circuit. I catch myself holding my breath, reluctant to let my old world and my new life collide. But if he recognizes me, he doesn’t let it show. Still, the newfound certainty swelling in my chest begins to deflate. Is there such a thing as a fresh start? Vanessa shoots me a worried glance, her green eyes piercing straight through mine until they soften with understanding.

  Nobody has to know, her voice calls out in my brain. Her words instantly make my back relax and my fingers uncurl. She gives me a little wink, and without missing another beat, returns Jim’s welcome and extends a nimble hand.

  “You must be Ms. Andrews,” Jim says.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for fitting in an appointment on such short notice. This is my sister, Sarah. She’s the rider in the family,” she says and motions to me. I shake Jim’s hand, maintaining eye contact for the briefest of moments.

  “Do I know you?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

  “I’m sure you’ve seen each other at a show or something. Sarah used to show all the time,” Vanessa explains with a wave of her hand. Jim responds with a nod of acceptance. Sarah Andrews. The name works like a salve on my nerves. It’s easy. Classic. Sarah Andrews doesn’t sound like a girl without parents. She doesn’t sound like a girl with anything to hide.

  I shoot Vanessa a grateful smile as we follow Jim down the wide aisle. He rattles off statistics and show histories as he shows us prospects that fit our criteria. My eyes wander ahead of him. A solid bay neck sticks out of a stall, a well-sculpted head swings in my direction. The horse lifts his nose in greeting as I approach. A low whinny rumbles in his throat. Down the aisle, a bored horse noses over a metal trash can. The horses on either side shy at the sound and spin into the back corners of their stalls. But the big bay acknowledges it with just a flick of an ear. The rest of him is steady and calm.

  “Is this one available?” I ask, interrupting Jim as he talks to Vanessa about another horse.

  “Yep. They’re asking too much for him though, I’ll be honest with you. I mean, he’s a heck of a horse and has a lot of potential but he doesn’t have a single mile on him outside of the farm,” Jim says with a shake of his head. Vanessa glances at me for clarification.

  “He hasn’t been anywhere to compete. Some horses are perfect at home but don’t reproduce the performance in a new environment.”

  “Well, I don’t want to show,” Vanessa says.

  “How much are we talking?” I ask.

  “Forty. But since I think the price is high and you two seem like you’d take good care of him, I’d be happy to wave my commission. You can have him for thirty-two.” I grimace at the price, way more than I expected.

  “We’ll take him,” Vanessa says firmly.

  “Vanessa, we haven’t even seen him go yet. And a vet needs to check him out.”

  “Okay. We’ll watch someone ride him, a vet can check him out, and then we’ll take him.”

  “You’re welcome to hop on him. He’s a saint. Or we’ve got a few exercise riders that can work him for you,” Jim offers.

  “Will you give us a second?” I dodge the question. He obliges and steps a few feet away from us. I lower my voice and turn to face Vanessa. “You know he means thirty-two thousand, right?”

  “I know,” she says without blinking.

  “And you do remember saying that you want to buy at least two, right?”

  “Yes,” she says, genuine confusion on he
r face.

  “All right. Let’s watch him go.”

  An hour later Jim graciously accepts Vanessa’s deposit check and we shake hands with him. “I’ll call you in the next couple of days to iron out the details. Let me know when his vet-check comes back,” I say as we head to the parking lot.

  “Of course. If you’re looking for anything else I hope you’ll keep me in mind,” he says, failing to keep the enthusiasm out of his voice. I can’t blame him. That was probably the easiest sale he’s ever made. Vanessa had even insisted on the full purchase price, including his commission.

  “That was fun!” she practically sings beside me as we head to her car, which looks comical nestled in a row of diesel trucks.

  “Are you sure you want to keep going? We can call it a day. That’s one of the fastest sales I’ve ever seen, and we’ve already spent a lot of money.”

  “You could’ve had any of them, you know.”

  “None of the other horses sparked my interest.” We climb into the car and she starts the engine.

  “I wasn’t talking about the horses.” Her words paint me to the back of my seat. She giggles at my obvious discomfort and then drives too quickly down the gravel driveway.

  Vanessa reaches into the back and plucks the folder off of the floor behind her seat. “The next place is ten minutes from here. I know right where it is. I printed out the email they sent me. Take a look and see what you think.”

  I flip through the printouts under the second tab and then thumb to the back of the folder.

  “Wait, one of these farms is in Kentucky.” I straighten in my seat as my mind fills with images of rolling blue hills dotted with some of the nicest horses in the world.

  “I know. There’s a great bed and breakfast not far from the farm. I figured we’d drive there tonight, eat somewhere fabulous, and get a good night’s sleep. Then we can check out the horses in the morning. We’ll drive home when we’re done. There’s no rush.”

  “Are you serious?” Even though I’m sure she’s very serious, every nerve ending waits for her response.