Moonlit

by Jadie Jones

  “I don’t even know who I am anymore.” My voice sounds small in the hollow room.

  I know who you are, I imagine Lucas’s voice in my brain.

  How did I just come up with that? I guess because something about him makes me feel safe, despite of everything. If I didn’t know better I’d swear he was right beside me, whispering in my ear.

  “I miss you.”

  I miss you, too.

  Even though I know it’s all in my head, I hold tight to his words and wait for sleep.

  15 Blueblood

  Waking up is a mixed bag. Because if today is real, if I get to shop the world’s most pedigreed horses without a budget, then last night was real. And I almost killed a man. The first thought makes me want to leap out of bed. The second makes me want to jump out the window.

  I glance at the clock on my bedside table. Seven-thirty. Time to get moving. But the simple action of swinging my legs over the side takes everything I’ve got. I blink and John’s face is in front of mine again, smoke and beer on his breath. Another blink and all I see is red. Salty, warm, red that smells like rust and is every bit as corrosive, eating straight through my flesh and deep into my soul.

  Even now I can feel the drops of blood that splattered my cheek the moment my fist made contact. I catch myself wiping at it, sure I’ll see stains on the back of my hand. But there’s nothing there. A man could be dead because of these hands but they don’t look any different. Shouldn’t they look different? They start to tremble all over again. I shake them at my sides, shake them until they hurt.

  Focus, Tanzy. One foot in front of the other. I repeat it to myself from the bed to the dresser. There’s a red shirt in my bag. I throw it away as fast as I can. A sob escapes my dry mouth and hangs in the air, waiting for company. But I force the rest down and press the heels of my traitorous hands into my eyes. He could be someone else’s father. You don’t get to cry about that. But the thoughts have an opposite effect, drawing an untamed emotion from my chest and making my insides heave to quaking. I cling to the lip of the dresser, no longer able to support the weight of it all. Did someone find him in time? Will he see the sunrise?

  I brave a glimpse out of my window, sure I’ll see police cars lining the street below. Instead, a clear, bright dawn shines unaware on the outskirts of Louisville. A few people dot the sidewalk. Every exhale they make vaporizes in front of their mouths. Do they know what happened? Is my name in that cloud of warm air leaving their lips?

  Self-preservation awakens within my muscles, bullying grief for space. A damp chill runs its icy fingers up my spine. I clench my teeth to keep them from chattering and blindly pull on clothes, but the extra layers offer no shield from this kind of cold. I draw in a long, staggering breath and step into the hallway.

  My swollen eyes catch on the morning paper waiting by my door. I almost walk right by it. But the headline in the side column makes me stop short: “ER Nurse Alleges Prior Assault by Comatose John Doe.” My heart pounds against my ribs as I fumble the paper open and lean against my door frame. “An unidentified, comatose man brought to Louisville Medical late last night was recognized by a nurse as the man who she alleges assaulted her six months ago. Although his face suffered extensive damage, she says she clearly remembers the tattoos on his arms.” I stare down blindly at the rest of the article. I don’t have to read another word. I know it’s him.

  Vanessa was right. I had done a good thing. And I hadn’t killed him. He was caught because of me.

  I hurry down the stairs, pausing at the balconied landing on the second floor that overlooks the cozy lobby. Vanessa sits with her back to me. She has picked a small, circular table by a window. The morning sunlight makes her glow. I watch her from above, reliving the moment she walked into the alley, unfazed and ready. The way she took charge of the mess I’d made. The way she took care of me. She’d said he’d probably hurt other girls. Her instincts were dead on, and I’d treated her like she was the criminal. Regret pinches the back of my throat. I swallow it away, silently vowing to make it up to her, and make my way to the lobby below.

  “Hey,” she calls as she glances at me over her shoulder. “Did you see the paper?”

  “Yes.” I press my lips in a firm line to keep from smiling again. Something in her dark gaze triggers another mental replay of the horrible fight. The sound his face made as it caved in. The way his ribs gave out under my foot.

  “Told you.” Vanessa breaks into a smug grin as I mask a shudder.

  “I guess it makes me feel a little better about everything.”

  “Feel better? You should feel great. I hope that guy never wakes up,” she says between sips of coffee. My back stiffens at her words, but I force it to relax.

  She’s right. He’s the only guilty one here. Still, the memory of her stepping in a pool of his blood in silver high-heeled shoes blooms within me and lingers like I might enjoy the way it smells.

  “Go get something to eat. We have a big day ahead of us,” she says, switching the subject.

  “Yes, we do,” I agree, more than happy to focus on anything else. And for the first time since last night, recognizing the pangs of hunger doesn’t douse me in guilt. I pile my plate until the paper starts to give under the weight and head back to the table.

  “This place is great, Vanessa. I can see why you come here,” I slide into my chair.

  “Actually, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about. How would you feel about staying another night or two?”

  “Sounds great to me,” I answer brightly.

  “There’s a local tradition around here that I want to introduce you to. You’ll like it, I promise. It’s outside.”

  “What is it exactly?” I ask, hiding my doubtful face behind a slice of cantaloupe.

  “It’s called a drum circle. It’s this secret thing that the locals do during the full moon.”

  “Seriously?” My resolve stumbles.

  “Yes,” she says, drawing the word out. I give her a sideways glance that begs for further explanation. “There are drummers, of course, and a huge bonfire. Fortune tellers, fire dancers, mountain witches, and singers—”

  “Wait, I thought you said this was just locals?”

  “It is,” she says in all seriousness. “There’s fantastic music and story-telling about the ancient spiritual beliefs of our pagan elders. It’s a great way to relax and recharge.”

  “So if it’s a secret, how did you find out about it?”

  “I went to the University of Kentucky. I dated one of my professors.”

  I will my face not to react, but I lose.

  “What? So I have a thing for older men. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Right. Sorry,” I say and avert my eyes.

  “Tanzy, I’m kidding,” she says, swatting my fist with her fingertips. “Anyways, he was a sociology professor and did a bunch of research on hidden local traditions. That’s how he discovered the drum circle. He took me with him one night. Since then I go whenever I can.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I know, I know. But the experience is amazing. Look, I feel horrible about what happened to you last night.”

  “I do too,” I interject, but she stops me with a shake of her head.

  “I feel totally responsible for the whole thing. I want to make it up to you. I wouldn’t take you somewhere tonight unless I was sure you would enjoy it. Would you trust me on this?”

  “I’m in,” I say and shrug my shoulders. She’s been right every step of the way. It’s time I stop second-guessing her.

  “Good. Now, is it okay with you if we talk about horses?”

  “Yes, please.” I lean across the table. She pulls the folder out of her tote and hands it to me. I leaf through the printouts of today’s prospects and tap the top page.

  “I don’t know why, but I have a good feeling about this farm,” I say. She glances down at the sheet.

  “It’s our first appointment,” she says, checking her
notes.

  “You did really well setting all this up on your own. And I know I was reluctant, to say the least, but you were right, I’m glad we came.”

  “You’re welcome.” Vanessa beams with pride as she gathers her things. “I won’t even say I told you so.”

  The cloudless morning makes a perfect backdrop to the sprawling countryside. Thoroughbreds dot the rolling pasture, which still boasts various shades of green despite the winter temperatures. We make our last turn. The huge white barn from the printout is immediately visible even though we have half a mile to go. I beat a rhythm on my knees. Vanessa glances down at my busy fingers and smiles.

  “This is really nice,” she breathes as we turn into the driveway.

  “Welcome to Kentucky horses.”

  We step out of her car and are greeted by several barn dogs. They sniff us eagerly, registering where we’ve been. I open my hands and they lick my fingers.

  “Come on, boys. Leave the ladies alone,” a kind voice calls to the pack. They bound over to him, a good first impression in my book. “You must be Vanessa.” He extends a hand.

  “Yes, hi. Thank you for seeing us today.”

  “Tanzy,” I say, and then inwardly cringe, wishing I’d said Sarah instead.

  “I’m Russ. Nice to meet you both. Let’s head inside and talk about what you’re looking for.”

  We fall in step behind him as he explains the layout of the incredible facility. The farm is home to a hundred horses in three different barns, which are shaped in a horseshoe around the biggest covered riding arena I’ve ever seen. We stop and watch as exercise riders take their horses through morning workouts. “As you can see, we’ve got a bunch of sale stock right now. Tell me any specifics you have in mind and I’ll narrow it down from there,” he says.

  “Just something reliable, comfortable, and bombproof. Doesn’t have to be too flashy,” I start. Vanessa clears her throat.

  “Well, it can be a little flashy,” she says, which draws a chuckle from Russ.

  “What’s your price range?” he asks.

  “That’s a non-issue,” she says bluntly.

  “Ma’am, the prices here vary a great deal. I just need to know your ceiling before we get started.”

  “It’s a non-issue,” she repeats evenly. I raise an eyebrow at Russ, who lets out a low whistle.

  “Well, all right.” He raises his eyes in wonder, but his pulse doesn’t quicken at the thought of a big sale. My appreciation for his professionalism is quickly swept aside by the fact that I can hear the rhythm of his body from three feet away. And it’s more than that. I can feel it. I understand it. I resist the urge to clamp my hands over my ears and stare across the large arena, ignoring the new current of information until it blurs into the other sounds around us.

  “Let’s start with that bay Hanoverian mare working over the line of jumps right there,” Russ says and points.

  I step back and let Vanessa ask Russ the few questions she knows, giving my own heart a moment to steady. It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s probably all part of whatever gift this is. Vanessa will know what’s going on. She always does. I shake off the residual adrenaline and join them on the rail. He gives us the statistics on several of the horses working in the riding ring and calls instructions to their riders to show off what they’re capable of. Vanessa is mesmerized, studying a gray horse cantering circles on the far end. I keep quiet, unwilling to disrupt the admiration in her eyes. Russ excuses himself and walks into the arena to set up some higher jumps, making her finally turn away. I take the opportunity to see if she’s got her heart set on anything yet.

  “Do you see any you like?”

  “I think the real issue is going to be deciding which ones I don’t want. I think I need a bigger barn.”

  “Let’s just start with the stalls you have now. That way you can learn what you like and what you don’t, so when you’re ready to buy more you’ll know exactly what you want.”

  “Okay, I can accept that. But next time we’re coming here first.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. Dana would love it here.”

  “We should bring her next time.”

  “She’s working on a farm around here somewhere. I should ask Russ if he’s heard of her, see if he knows which farm she’s at. I feel bad that I haven’t called her.”

  “Don’t worry, she called me this morning. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you. I got so distracted when I saw the newspaper.”

  “How’s she doing? Does she like her new farm?”

  “I told her we were in Kentucky. She’s in Florida for a big horse show or something. She said they’ve got her traveling a lot already. She couldn’t talk long.”

  “Good for her,” I say, keeping a smile in place. But my heart sinks a little.

  “Well, ladies, do you see anything you like so far?” Russ calls from the arena. We slip under the white rails and meet him in the center of the ring to talk about Vanessa’s favorites.

  An hour later we’re in Russ’s office going over paperwork as Vanessa signs deposit checks four and five.

  “I love this facility. Would you mind showing me the rest? I want to get some ideas for back home,” she asks as she hands him the checks.

  “I’ll be happy to,” he says. We follow him down the barn aisle toward the pasture, which is divided with white fencing into a checkerboard of paddocks. Most of them are empty. My eyes catch on a gray horse standing alone. Her black-tipped ears are pricked so hard that they’re almost touching. She lifts her nose in search of a scent on the steady breeze. Her black eyes zero in on my face, and she screams in recognition.

  It can’t be.

  “That right there is a sad story. I’d love to show her to you but she’s not ready to be sold yet. We’re still trying to figure out how to keep somebody on her.”

  “Oh my God. That’s Moonlit.” My body ignites with motion as my insides go still, waiting in disbelief.

  “How’d you know that?” Russ asks without hiding the shock in his voice.

  “That’s my horse.” My horse.

  I don’t wait for either Russ or Vanessa to respond before I take off toward her. The mixture of cold air and hot tears makes my eyes sting. I run at a dead sprint, terrified she’ll disappear if I don’t reach her fast enough. She screams and canters to the paddock fence. In a fluid motion, I plant my hand on the top rail and swing my body over the fence. Without hesitating I throw my arms around her neck. She stands still in my hold and noses at my hair with her lips.

  “You’re Tanzy Hightower,” Russ says as he approaches quietly.

  I nod a response, my face still buried in her black mane.

  “I knew your name sounded familiar but I couldn’t place it. And I durn sure didn’t think you were Tanzy Hightower. You don’t look quite like the pictures I saw of you in riding journals. But that was a long time ago,” he says, trailing off as he glances from me to Moonlit. “Your mother sold me that horse. Told me you couldn’t stand the sight of her and wanted her gone.”

  “She lied to you,” I whisper, too many emotions surging through my veins to articulate a longer explanation.

  “Well, if you want her back you can have her.” His offer startles me. I size him up, immediately suspicious. My father had nearly broken the bank when he bought her as a yearling for fifteen thousand dollars. At the time my mother essentially gave her to Russ she was worth a quarter of a million.

  Why would he offer to just give her back? My face must beg the same question.

  “You’re still the last person to ride her. No one has been able to stay on her for longer than two minutes in nearly two years. And I’ve tried everything. We were going to breed her this spring if we still couldn’t get anybody up on her,” he explains. I stare back at him.

  “So you’d just give her back?”

  “Well, I guess it would only be fair if I sold her back to you at the same price I bought her for. You know she sold her to me for a dollar. I never told anyone what I
paid for her. Figured they’d think something underhanded was going on.”

  “Russ, I don’t even know what to say or how to thank you.”

  “Will you try to ride her while you’re here?” His request makes me laugh. “I know she can’t do a lot since she’s out of shape, and I heard you’d stopped riding a couple of years back. But if it’s all the same to you I’d love to see what you can do with her.”

  Before his last words have left his mouth, my hand finds a familiar hold on her withers and I swing onto her bare back. Moonlit doesn’t flinch as I slide behind her shoulders and give her a pat.

  “I’ve waited a long time to be up here.”

  “Look who’s impatient now,” Vanessa jokes. I barely hear her as I move Moonlit away from them with the faintest pressure from my calf. Do you remember, girl? She snorts in response. We walk a couple of wide figure eights to get in tune with each other and then she moves up into a smooth trot as soon as I think to tell her. Canter. The three-beat gait begins the moment the word enters my mind. I open my arms to the cold air as my body moves with hers in perfect rhythm. I close my eyes and the world falls away. The only things I hear are her steady exhales and the muted beat of her unshod hooves on the earth. Easy. She breaks smoothly to a walk. I reluctantly open my eyes. Russ and Vanessa stare at us from the fence, mouths agape.

  “Well, Tanzy, I don’t think that horse is ever going to belong to anyone but you.”

  “Not if I can help it,” I say.

  “That was like magic,” Vanessa says as we pull away from the farm several hours later. Russ let me groom Moonlit. I even cleaned her stall and scrubbed out her buckets. Finally there was nothing left to do. I am still so reluctant to leave her that I have to force myself not to jump out of Vanessa’s car.

  “It felt like magic. Moonlit and I just fit together,” I answer, squirming in my seat. Russ agreed to ship the three horses to Vanessa’s free of charge once the other two passed a vet-inspection. It’s going to be a long week.