“Brodie doesn't blame you anymore, you know.”
“I know.” Another sigh. She had to stop this. “Well, I guess I should turn in early.”
“Maybe you should call your mother. I know she'd love to hear from you.”
“That's a good idea. I have a bit of news—don't think I told you.” Matter of fact, she hadn't told anyone besides Brodie. “I might have a job offer coming. But part-time only. I wasn't going to say anything to you until I knew for sure.”
“Honey, you need to do what's best for you. If it means going back to New York, I hope you'll give us some notice so we can find someone else.”
She hugged the older woman. “Oh, Aunt Fay. I promise won't desert you. I'm going to try to work something out. Not sure what. But I plan to make it work if I can.”
Uncle Virgil ambled up just then. “Was wondering where you'd gotten off to. Didn't know it was a ladies' tea party.”
“Just having some girl talk, Virgil.” Fay beamed. “Having a chat about our Trista.”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded. “Well, now that I've got you two together, it's halfway quiet around here, and little miss isn't here with her father, I wanted to talk to you about an idea I have. It's about that pony she wants.”
“Now, Virgil Thomas, I love that girl as much as if she were our own granddaughter, but we're in no position to bid on that pony at auction.”
“Maybe not just us, but what if a group of us got together to do it? We have enough time to get on our phone and call people. I want to do it for her.” He paced the porch.
“Honey, now don't get your blood pressure up.” Fay hopped up from her chair. “Sit. I can stand.”
Virgil waved her off. “I don't need babying. I want to know, if you're in with me on this. I figure if we need to, we can come up with five hundred toward the pony.”
“I think I can do maybe three hundred.” Karyn didn't dare question the older man's idea of gathering sponsors to bid on the pony. “I don't know if I can help contact other people, but I don't mind trying.”
Fay took Virgil’s hand. “Why is this so important to you? Trista is special to us, of course.”
He shrugged. “Being sick and forced to sit around like a lump, I've had some time to think. You and I have a lot more time behind us than we do ahead of us, and I've put so much into this place. But I want to invest in Trista. I never forgot my first pony. So if she wants that Nugget, I want to buy it. If the pony goes for less than we have raised, I want to put the rest into a college fund for her.”
Fay planted a kiss on his cheek. “You most certainly have been thinking. My, my.”
Karyn set her cup of tea on the little table by her chair. “We can do this. I love the idea. Brodie and I were talking about the pony, and he says he has the room.”
No, it could never make up for the pain Trista was going through, but if they could get Nugget in the auction, it would make a memory for her to remember always.
Chapter 9
Brodie called Karyn that evening, but the call went straight to voice mail. Trista had settled down to sleep at last. He didn't blame Karyn if she was upset. He wanted to make sure she was all right.
Sunday morning, and no phone call from Karyn. She didn't come to church service, either. He called again, with the call again going straight to voice mail.
Well, he'd tried. After Sunday supper with his parents, he would stop by Pine Breezes. This conversation would be better held face to face, not over the phone, or even more impersonal, by text message.
Fay opened the front door right away to his firm knock. “If you're looking for Karyn, you're too late.”
“Too late?”
“She's gone. Hit the road to New York for her job interview. Got a phone call from a newspaper big wig if she could come straight up. Don't know why they couldn't just talk on the phone or use one of those computer video chats, but she said the editor is a stickler for 'real' interaction. Refreshing, don't you think?”
He nodded absently. He'd kept his mind open since yesterday, about the idea of her getting a job in the field she loved. What about the story she was going to write for the newspaper, about the pony auction?
“Does she know when she'll be back?”
“Tuesday, I think.”
He studied the older woman's face a little more closely. “Aunt Fay, are you all right?”
“I was getting used to the idea of her staying here. I was hoping, no, praying, that somehow she'd find a way to be happy here. I thought you'd made her happy. Or, there was a promise of happiness with you.”
He nodded again, feeling like a bobble-head. “I know. I was, too. Well, I tried calling her late last night, and this morning before church. But she didn't answer her phone. So I figured an in-person discussion would be best.”
“Most of the time, it is. All this technology making everything easier but more difficult at the same time.” Fay sighed. “Well, I'm sure she'll be happy to hear from you. She left in a hurry, something about trying to get on the road before the going-home tourists caused a bunch of traffic. But I think she might be a bit late for that.”
As if on cue, his phone started to ring. Karyn.
“It's her.”
“Feel free to make yourself at home on the patio. I'll get some lemonade.” Fay tugged him inside as he answered the call.
“Hey there.”
“Hey.” The sound of a car engine almost drowned out her words. “Phone battery drained. Did Fay tell you I'm on the road?”
“Yes, she explained. Congratulations. It's a good opportunity. No, it's a great opportunity.” He settled onto the nearest patio chair.
“I'm excited, I'm nervous, I'm wound up as if I've had three double espressos.”
“Where are you going to stay?”
“My friend Betsy said I can stay with her for a couple of nights. And don't worry, I plan to be back Tuesday, in plenty of time before the auction on Thursday. I haven't forgotten my promise to chief.”
“Good. You can't get back here soon enough for me.”
“I know. I miss you already. It'll be good to be in the city again, and I really want to take you here sometime. And Trista, too.”
“One day. She's going to miss you.”
“I'm going to miss her too.”
“Let me know when you get there.”
“I will.” She ended the call first.
He wanted to tell her three important words. Maybe it was too soon. Or not. Maybe a few days of space was the best for them right now. He'd be busy enough this week with the pony swim, the auction, the carnival, and everything those events involved.
Fay then brought out some lemonade, and Virgil got up from his nap and joined them on the patio.
Within a few minutes, the two told him of a plan they'd hatched that made him shake his head. The pony? For Trista?
“I can't accept this. You all have no idea how much it's going to end up costing. Last year the highest bid was over twenty thousand dollars. How high are you planning to bid? I'm not going to tell her you all are bidding. It would devastate her if you didn't win.”
“We're not going to say a word to her, and neither are you. We've talked to your parents, Megan's parents, Karyn is on board, along with the fire fighters. The owner of Tastee Cone even chipped in, and the Seashell Boutique. And the Wetherfords. We have a total of five thousand pooled if needed.”
He couldn't speak, let alone process that bit of information. “I. . .I won't say anything to her.”
Now, they just had to pray it would be enough.
# #
Karyn strode along the sidewalk, letting the sounds of the city swirl around her. The editor loved her samples, said he liked her “fresh, young, yet mature” writer's voice.
“Wish I could have you on staff full time. We just don't have the funds for it. But half time, I can do. You'll have one feature per week and two industry profiles. Maybe an event or two, if I need an extra hand.” He'd shaken her hand firmly, looked h
er in the eye, and sent her to the Human Resources office to fill out some paperwork.
Only trouble, today was Wednesday afternoon and she'd missed the pony swim. She'd left a message for Brodie, apologizing again for the delay. Seems the editor was sidetracked by other urgent matters not just on Monday, but on Tuesday as well. She'd rattled around her old haunts, trying not to nibble her fingernails until her twice-rescheduled appointment on Wednesday. After she packed her travel bag at Betsy's, she could be home again if not before dark, then before midnight.
She let herself into the walk-up apartment on the fourth floor. The aroma of spices filled the three-room apartment.
“Cooking supper,” her friend called out from the kitchen. “You got the job?”
“I got it.”
“Congratulations, girl. What a jump for your career.” Betsy emerged from the kitchen. “You'll stay one more night?”
“I can't. I need to get back.”
“Traffic is already a bear. Sure you can't go back first thing in the morning?”
“No, I need to leave as soon as I can. I promised someone I'd be at the auction tomorrow.”
“Ah, this Brodie guy, the one with the little girl.”
She nodded. “I promised them both.”
“I haven't seen you this happy in, well, I don't remember. You were in a good groove here, but ever since being in Virginia, your joy seems more real. If that makes any sense.” Betsy shook her head. “Anyway. . .gotta stir the rice.”
Karyn followed Betsy into the small galley kitchen. “I'm going to have the best of both worlds. I promise, I won't eat much while I'm here. I'll be in Virginia at least three or four days each week.”
“No talking me into it. I hope you don't think I was putting you off last month when I said I really didn't think a roommate would work for me.”
“Not really. I understood.”
“Looks like it's worked out for the best, partly due to me.” She flashed Karyn a grin and turned to stir the pot on the stove. “I'll pack you some of this for the road. Or, you can eat it when you get home to your little cottage. I have a hot pack that lasts six hours.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Less than an hour later, Karyn discovered the truth of Betsy's words, that traffic out of the city truly was a bear. But with each mile she covered that got her closer to the Virginia state line, the more her heart soared.
Her mother phoned in just as she'd crossed the Delaware state line. “How did it go?”
“Got the job.” Her happy words echoed in the car as she spoke into her headset’s microphone.
“I knew you would.”
“I hoped I would.”
“Listen, your dad and I are concerned. Brodie Reed is from a good family, but this is all moving so fast, don't you think? You've barely been back in each other's lives but a few weeks.”
“We've known each other a lot longer.” Her stomach growled. Maybe she'd stop for a burger. Or a salad. Salad would be healthier, but harder to eat on the road. Stopping, though, would delay her more.
“True. You have. But the people you are now aren't the people you were. Then.”
“Exactly. And that's all right. We're not rushing into anything.”
“Just. Be careful. Again, there is a child involved.”
Oh, Mother.
She tried not to sigh into the mouthpiece. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You don't sound very thankful. Sometimes, you need to have a head of reason about you.”
“Yes, that's very true.” She'd just hit Wilmington and the traffic picked up again. “Mom, I'm into more traffic. I'll let you know when I get home.”
“Just call. Or text. Bye.”
Karyn let out a pent-up breath. Her mother had a point. A child was involved. Much as she hated to admit it, her mother was right. And now, Karyn had four hours in which to think about her words. That, and how much she couldn't wait to see Brodie again. Both ideas did battle inside her.
Chapter 10
Trista had him up earlier than Christmas morning. He groaned. They needed to be down at the auction pen as early as possible anyway, for her to get a good spot to see the ponies. After the penning yesterday morning, she'd hovered by the pen all the rest of the day, talking to Nugget while he and some of the others fed them and prepared for the auction.
Brodie liked the young mare's demeanor. Now, if they could only succeed with the bidding today. Their team was ready. He'd received a message from Karyn—not long before midnight—that she'd arrived back at Yellow Cottage and couldn't wait to see him at the auction.
Operation Nugget a go?
It's a go, he'd written back.
Trista balked at the suggestion of breakfast, but he insisted she have a bowl of cereal before they headed out the door. The day would be long, for sure. The next moments would crawl until he saw Karyn.
At last, they arrived at the auction site. A short chain-link fence separated low bleachers from the area where each pony would be paraded out as it was auctioned off. A small crowd milled around, waiting for the auction to open.
“I don't see Karyn yet.”
“She'll be here. She got back very late last night, but she'll be here.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.”
As the crowd increased, some familiar faces came into view. There were his parents, and Virgil and Fay. Megan's parents came, too. Probably all the “investors” would.
He saw Karyn in the crowd. She held a small notebook and scribbled away, her sunglasses covering her eyes. She snapped a few photos. Wrote some more. Caught a place on the bleachers with a good view of the goings-on. He waved, but didn't think she saw him.
And then came her smile, shining across the way at him. She waved, blew a kiss. His ears burned. He endured some good-natured teasing from the guys as they finished brushing the last few ponies up for auction, and making sure each wore their tag.
After that came the blur of the auction, the auctioneer calling out prices, hands raising for bids, as pony after pony found their new homes.
He saw Trista sitting with his parents on the bleachers now. She stood, clapping.
“There she is—my Nugget!”
Out came the young pony, energetic yet a bit docile, her wide eyes taking in the crowd assessing her.
C'mon, Virgil. The bidding began. He couldn't bear to listen, but had to anyway.
Bidding came out brisk. The auctioneer called for five hundred, and the bids hopped up fifty dollars at a time. Within two minutes, the bidding had doubled to one thousand dollars.
He tried not to look at Trista's face, but her expression nearly made him run over to hop the fence and tell her the whole plot they'd hatched and save her the pain she now felt.
There was Karyn, standing by the fence and clutching its metal railing as if it were a lifeline. He couldn't see the other bidder who was up against Virgil.
Finally, after seconds crawled by, Virgil emerged victorious and he was now the happy owner of a registered Chincoteague pony for nineteen hundred dollars.
But there went Trista, running. And crying. She likely didn't see Virgil in the crowd.
“I'll be right back, guys.” They should have told her, but what if they hadn't succeeded?
Both he and Karyn reached Trista at the same time, near the edge of the parking lot.
“Trista, where did you think you'd be going?” He glanced at Karyn. She looked great, even in the morning humidity, her hair pulled back and looking every inch a journalist.
“I don't know. But Nugget's gone. She's gone.” Trista threw her arms around him. Karyn stepped forward, stroking Trista's hair.
He nodded at Karyn. “You tell her.”
“She's yours, honey.” Karyn's voice held the slightest quaver. “All yours.”
“But someone got her, and not Daddy. I know we didn't have the money and he was helping with the ponies. But I still hoped.” She hiccuped. “She's really mine? We can take her home?”
/> “Well, to the old pen at Pine Breezes first. Uncle Virgil fixed it up, with my help.”
“Daddy, how did you do it? How did we get her?”
“We all worked on it,” Karyn said. “Your dad, grandparents, Uncle Virge and Aunt Fay, a few of the people in town, some on the fire department. Me. We all wanted to help.”
“I have the best family. Ever.” Now she hugged Karyn. “I love you, Karyn. And not just for the pony. I'm sorry I was so mad at you. I. . .”
“Shhhh. . .I know, I know.” She hugged Trista back. “I love you, too.”
# #
“Where's our young horsewoman?” Uncle Virgil said as he approached. “Care to come see your pony?” He nodded at the two of them, and winked as he took Trista by the hand.
“Uncle Virgil, I know how to take care of ponies. I checked out books at the library,” Trista was saying as they left.
“I will never, ever, even when I am old and gray, forget the sight of her face when you told her Nugget belonged to her.” Brodie held open his arms, and Karyn entered his embrace. Oh, how she'd missed him.
“Neither will I.”
“So, you're back.”
“I'm back. I'll be leaving again soon. But I'm back.”
“Good.” He kissed the top of her head. “Can we walk for a few minutes? I want to talk to you, without competing against an auctioneer.”
At that, she laughed. “Of course.”
It took some walking, but at last they arrived where the ocean breeze whistled in the pines and the auctioneer's voice was but a small bit of chatter.
Without curious eyes around, he took her in his arms and kissed her. He smelled of sweat and horse after only a couple hours in the pen, but she didn't care.
“I missed you. Part of me wondered if you decided not to come back after all.”
“I couldn't do that.” The idea pained her. “No, I couldn't.”
“So, they made you an offer you couldn't refuse?”
“Something like that.” They kept walking. “The plan has come together. My schedule will be crazy, like my hours. It'll get busier in the fall with fashion week. But maybe you two can come up to visit me.”
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