Morgan's Walk

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Morgan's Walk Page 5

by Suzelle Johnston


  “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Yes. Does it show?” For the last hour they’d been balancing the requests for arena time with what was still available. “Fee wants you in her office. I need to finish a few things here, and then I’m going home.”

  The man didn’t move. As if he had all the time in the world, Jared rubbed a hand along the wainscoting on her wall. “I like your office. I like the colors. Maybe it’s because you picked the right shades. I’m sure she’d be happy to explain why, but my decorator told me to never, ever, pick up another paintbrush.”

  Tyndal’s smile was quick. “I remember hearing about the time you decided to paint your apartment. Fee had your Mom and Dad over for dinner and they told us the story. I take it you’ve steered clear of paint since then?”

  “No kidding. Which is why I’m stuck trying to decide what to do with my office here.”

  “Ah. I understand. You’re prepared to offer me a bribe.”

  “If I thought it’d work, but I have a fair idea of what you’d say. So, I’m bribing Fee.”

  “Oh yeah? With what?”

  “Going in her place to represent Morgan’s Walk at all the State meetings.”

  “For how long?”

  “The next year.”

  Tyndal burst out laughing. Fee had tried everything in the book to get her to take on the job. So far, she’d been able to escape. Jared, with his ease of dealing with people, was the perfect candidate. “Serves you right.”

  “I just have one question. Why did you put your office here? This used to be a tack room.”

  “Proximity, I suppose, and the windows. Fee offered me one of the offices at the house, but I wanted to be here—main barn, accessible. I like having a kitchen just down the hall if I want to make a cup of tea. Bhetami, the baby, and Raj are all stabled in this wing. Plus it’s easy access to the indoor arena.”

  “Makes sense. That was a good idea too. Storage.” He pointed toward the built-in bookcases flanking her windows.

  She sighed, gave in. The man wasn’t budging till he was ready. “I put the sofa in for Jake. I like to read in the chair you’re sitting in. Fee brought the plants from the house. I purchased the desk at an antique store. Does that answer your questions?”

  “Almost. Are you content, Tyndal? I don’t mean happy, because happiness is changeable. I mean satisfied, fulfilled. Do you miss the competitions? The travel? Do you like what you’re doing?”

  Same lighting fast swings of mood. Tyndal had no doubt he wanted an answer. Jared never wasted a lot of words on trivia. She understood he asked the questions he’d intended to, and would wait as long as Fionola’s cat, if necessary, for the answers. His blue eyes were calm, quiet as lake water on a summer afternoon. And just that deep.

  Feeling a sudden affinity for the mouse, she took a deep breath. “I don’t miss the shows. I love working with the horses. I know I have to compete occasionally, but being on the road and riding horses other people trained…I usually felt I could have schooled them better. It was frustrating. So yes, I like what I’m doing now.” She paused. “I struggle with missing Chase. Morgan’s Walk is so much a reflection of him and Fee. But still, it’s home. It’s where I want to be. My life’s pretty quiet compared to what it was.” Shutting down her computer, she stood. “Let’s take a walk, okay?”

  “Sounds good.”

  Tyndal didn’t try to avoid him as he reached out. She felt him take her hand in his, wondered how he turned a gesture so casual into something far more intimate. Maybe it was the intimacy of the expression in his eyes. She didn’t know. But there was no doubt she wasn’t prepared for a number of things with him.

  From the first instant they’d met, Jared was her friend, her love, her girlhood fantasy all wrapped up with blue eyes and a mane of golden hair. What girl wouldn’t melt into a puddle if he turned those eyes of his on her and smiled? She certainly hadn’t been able to resist.

  As they walked outside the sharp skree of an eagle, the sound of a hunter, filled the sky.

  “There, see? Look over there, it’s spotted something.” Jared pointed to the bird, angling, adjusting, until, without warning, it dove for the ground in sudden, deadly accuracy.

  Two seconds later, it flew again with a rabbit locked between its talons.

  Tyndal felt the tears. Couldn’t stop them. Life. Death. The finality of death.

  “Oh, sweetheart. Talk to me, Tyndal.” Jared pulled her close. “What is it?”

  She circled her arms around his waist, rested her cheek against his chest. “I know it’s just a rabbit, doing whatever rabbits do without thinking it just lived its last moment, that it would never steal another bite of fresh vegetable out of Fee’s garden, or that its whole life was about to be taken away. I’ve given it time, Jared. I really have. But it hurts. I miss him so much.”

  “Chase.” It wasn’t a question. Jared’s touch on her face, on her hair, was soft as the understanding in his eyes. “He loved you, Tyndal. He loved us both. He treated me like a son and in return, I loved him like one.”

  As he led her into the shade, away from the sound and traffic around the barns, Tyndal slipped her hand into his.

  “I remember those days too,” he said, “when Chase was sick. It took time for Fionola’s messages to get to me, far too much time before one of them caught up and I was able to charter a plane. Tyndal, I’m sorry I wasn’t with you when Chase died. I don’t think you knew I’d come.”

  “No, I didn’t. Afterward though, Fee told me you’d come.”

  “Good. My plane landed about the time his funeral concluded, and by the time I got out here, he was being buried on the hill. I watched you take off right after the service. I stayed with Fee.” Jared paused then added, “She and I talked until late. I asked her to let me take her somewhere, anywhere, for a few days. But you know Fee, she wouldn’t budge. She said she felt Chase close in everything she saw, in everything she touched. Even that first night, she went up to their bedroom and crawled into bed. The next morning she said she curled on Chase’s pillow and slept until the sun was up.”

  “I had to get away,” Tyndal said. “I just got in my car and drove. I can’t even tell you the name of the town where I spent the night. Somewhere in Nebraska, I think.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Let’s keep walking. I want to go home.”

  They walked quietly until her house came into view. Jake made for the wicker settee and its pillows. Tyndal laughed. “He wants to make sure he gets his spot. I think he just objects to the idea of sharing.”

  “The chairs are fine.” Jared pulled out one for Tyndal.

  “Thanks.” She looked at the tall man who seemed so steady, who was so much part of Morgan’s Walk. “It feels good to talk about Chase with you.”

  “Maybe because we loved him. Fee planted three rose bushes beside his grave.” Jared rubbed his face. “She said one was for her, one for you, and one was for me. That night, after she went to bed, I climbed the hill. Someone had already sprinkled sage around and there was a leather hand-beaded pouch tied to the headstone. I sat on the stone bench between Fee’s roses most of the night.”

  “Sometimes I’ll go up the hill and find tokens—prayer ribbons tied in the trees, seeds and tobacco at the grave. Chase had a lot of friends among the Lakota.”

  “Tyndal, I don’t have the words that can take away the pain of missing him. For either of us. If death was easy, we wouldn’t grieve. That we do, I don’t know, it feels right. Chase was important to both of us.” Jared touched the tears drying on her face. “It’s okay to miss him, love.”

  “Do you remember the story about the Lakota holy man and summer thunderstorms? Chase said the holy man would smile when lightning split the heavens, when the sky trembled at the sounds rumbling between clouds, as if a thousand drums were pounded in the winds. Then he’d lift his hands in reverence, in awe, because the moment signified only one thing for those who believed—Creator stood between time and eternity, having on
e foot in heaven while balancing the other upon the center of the earth.”

  Jared nodded. “Yeah, I remember that story. I remember all the stories he told us. And it feels like we’re the ones walking between worlds—we want to keep those we love right beside us, and when they’re gone, we try to bridge that emptiness. It’s hard. It’s a fight to find our balance again between the loss we feel and the life we still have to live.”

  “Jared?”

  “Tyndal?”

  She felt him pull her to her feet and wrap his arms around her. He brushed a kiss across her lips, and then, as he had before, he lowered his forehead to hers. There was no demand, he asked nothing more than to give simple comfort. She felt the tears again.

  “I’m sorry about dredging up all this. I know this wasn’t how you planned to spend your afternoon, and Fee probably wonders where you are. Thanks for listening anyway.”

  Jared touched the shadows under her eyes. “You’re welcome. This is where I think we needed to start. Just here, talking about Chase.” He touched her lips once more with his. “There’re other things we’ll need to talk about too. Later. But first I think I’ll go see what Fionola has on her mind.”

  They turned toward the great house bathed in light that stood like a beacon on the ridgeline.

  “Oh, before I forget”—Tyndal giggled—“she said to tell you we’ll celebrate tonight at dinner. After all, you did manage to place second at Jackson Hole.”

  At her tone Jared grinned. “Be thankful I managed to hold onto second. The trainer has some work to do with the horse on noise tolerance.”

  “Is that what happened?”

  “Yeah, somebody sneezed up front, it sounded like a bomb. Scared the colt so much he lost his concentration.”

  “Hmm.” Tyndal giggled at Jared’s frown. “You know, unexpected movement and noise is part of crowd work. I’d say it was poor anticipation on the rider’s part. I also think I should feed my dog.” She made a run for her door.

  His laugh followed her inside.

  ****

  Alone, Sasha wasn’t laughing, but she was celebrating. She poured herself a glass of wine, toasted her new ‘do.’ Her new look. And a brand spanking new, shiny as the name-badge pinned to her shirt, boring-as-crap, job.

  The badge identified her as Janie Smith.

  The pay? Minimum wage. What else?

  Official title? Crew. Otherwise known as ‘flunky.’

  She’d dyed her hair a hideous reddish-purple, plastered it under a bill cap advertising John Deere, adopted a pair of heart-shaped pink sequined plastic sunglasses and wore enough makeup to make a Friday night hooker proud. Cheap boots, skin-tight jeans, and a consignment store shirt not quite buttoned far enough to be proper, completed her ensemble.

  No one—not even her late, unlamented husband would recognize her.

  Even so, the good folks in the personnel center at Morgan’s Walk were kind enough to give her an official pass, one that allowed her to go wherever she pleased on the whole blessed farm. Just as she pleased.

  Now wasn’t that neighborly.

  Sasha’s lips thinned, having learned the old woman, “Fee,” to friends and family, didn’t have anything to do with the hiring. Neither did Saint Tyndal. They just sat up there in that big fine house Chase built, likely having nothing more important to do than sip their morning mimosas. And plan dinner parties.

  Maybe the whole town was just that stupid, but everyone she met—including the busy-bodies and gossips that noticed every new face and watched each purchase, including hers—actually believed it when she told them it was her life’s dream to work at Morgan’s Walk.

  Then she had no choice but to stand there and take it when they went on to add how Tyndal was “just the sweetest little thing.” That Mrs. Morgan, “bless her heart,” could walk on water. And Chase? Well, of course. The man was a god.

  She just didn’t happen to worship at his shrine.

  But the barn manager?

  Finally, there was a man she understood. He liked what he saw, what she suggested. He was the sort who wanted to be tempted, to look—but was too hamstrung to do much about it. He was married.

  He probably even liked being married. But the guy sure didn’t mind taking a good long look at the package she offered. Just to make sure she had the deal wrapped up, she’d unbuttoned her blouse an extra button and made sure the girls were obvious enough to give him a thrill.

  Another little square man. Was the whole world filled with them? Sasha shrugged, looked in the mirror, and lifted her glass. All in a day’s work. She yawned, carried her wine to bed. Wondered what her second day on the job would be like, and dreamed of revenge.

  ****

  Later in the week, Jared met Tyndal at the cooling rack. He’d watched her school the long-legged Thoroughbred colt, sending it across the arena in a long canter. She looked happy. After all the tears and the talk about Chase, he’d been concerned. She mattered, her heart with all its moods, mattered.

  It wasn’t long before she gave the Thoroughbred a pat, climbed off, tossed its reins to a groom, and disappeared inside the barn. The next time he saw her, she was on Bhetami, with Jake and the foal tagging along. The ride lasted till almost noon. Now dog and foal were side-by-side, asleep in the sunshine. Bhetami dozed in the warmth as Tyndal used a finishing brush, its long, soft fibers easy on her glistening hide.

  “She looks like she’s doing well,” Jared said.

  “She is. But she’s had a slow recovery. Seth says I can start her on strength training. Then we’ll see. I’ve been able to postpone some invitations, but there are a few I should accept. We need to be able to work. And you’re in my way.” She motioned toward the hose and held up a cloth. “You mind?”

  “Not in the least.” He stepped to one side, enjoying Tyndal’s puzzled expression. Keeping her off balance could become his new hobby. “It won’t take long to get her back in shape.”

  “No, it won’t. She’s…wait a minute.” Tyndal met his eyes. “Okay, I give. You hung around in my office the other day. Now you’re standing around again, just shooting the breeze and smiling. You look like you swallowed the proverbial bird.”

  “Are you volunteering to be the canary?”

  “Oh, good grief. I wouldn’t volunteer to be anything with you around. Go pester one of the ladies in your fan club.”

  He laughed. “Now, why would I do that when a lovely woman with petal soft skin is right here, skin I think about—”

  She cut him off with a quick slap on his hand when he started to trace his thumb along her bottom lip. “Sometimes I really do think you’ve lost your mind.”

  “No, just my heart.” He took a step closer.

  Her eyes turned to slits. “It’s a foolish man who comes too close to a woman with a hose in her hand. I’ve called you many things over the years, but even I’d give you credit for having more sense. I think one more step would about do it, don’t you agree?”

  “That would lead to one of us being tossed in the mud. I believe I have the advantage.”

  “Believe whatever you want. But I’m small and quick.” To prove her point, she shot a blast of water at his boots. “That’s all the warning you get. And stop looking at me like that. You’re making me nervous.”

  “Good.” Reaching out, he snagged a strand of hair that’d escaped its ponytail. He rubbed it slowly back and forth across his cheek, keeping his eyes on hers.

  “Stop that too.” She snatched her hair out of his hand, pushed it back into her ponytail. “Do you intend to hang around like this for the rest of the day?”

  “Would you stay with me if I said yes?”

  “You know”—her voice was brisk—“I think I’m done here.”

  Liking the idea that it was pushing his luck, he moved toward her. She lifted the hose and took aim. He read the warning in her face and knew she’d do just what she said. Blast him to kingdom come with the hose.

  “If I were you, I’d stop right there. I mea
n it, Jared. You stand exactly where you are. I intend to finish hosing off the platform. Then I’m going to put the horses up, walk home, and take a shower. You’re not invited. After that, I’ll be working in my office. In case you’re wondering, you’re not invited there either.”

  He wanted to kiss her. Or strangle her. With what he’d set out to do, he’d be lucky to keep his hide intact. Still, he could give as well as he got…

  “You do that, love. But I want you to think about something. I’ve learned home is more than just a house with four walls. Life is lived there.”

  His eyes fired, imagining them waking together, her body beside him, warm and soft in his arms. “Life, Tyndal, with all its passions and intimacies, is a place where lovers celebrate. It’s full of laughter and tears. It’s warm and holds steady when nothing else can.” He touched her face, stepped back. He wanted too much to pull her close. To show her. Instead, he breathed in her fragrance, wondering how he ever imagined life without this one woman. “Somebody once told me,” he murmured, keeping his voice low and even, “that without those elements, a house is just real estate.”

  Tyndal glared at Jared. “Don’t start. You put all sorts of pictures in my mind and I don’t want any of them. Not one, do you hear? I like my house and my heart fine the way they are. They’re private. When or if that ever changes, I’ll let you know.”

  “Overreaction, love. Over-compensation. You’d correct a horse if it reacted to you that way. So…”

  “Gee, Jared. I’m not a horse. How about that? I think I have perfectly good reasons for my ‘reactions,’ as you call them too. First of all, you’re back. You’re here. I’ve accepted that much. But I won’t accept the ideas and thoughts my imagination comes up with about you. All you have to do is stand there, four feet away, and I feel you. I know what it’s like for your hands to touch me. I know what you can do to my heart. But I’m telling you right now in front of God and the whole wide world, you’re not allowed to do it again. And don’t say anything now, either, because who knows, I may have another reaction.”

  She grabbed the lead rope out of his hands and tugged at Bhetami. “I’m going home and clean something. And no, I haven’t changed my mind.” She met his eyes, read the glint in his. “You’re still not invited.”

 

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