by Holly Rayner
I’m in the midst of brushing one of my horses when I hear a noise at the far end of the stable. I’m at the back of the horse’s stall. I give her a gentle pat as I move to the front of the stall.
“Who’s that, girl?” I say. My horse blinks and swishes her tail from side to side. I look over the stall’s barrier, which is about chest high, and see Karla standing in a ray of sunshine, which is beaming in through the open door.
She lifts a hand in greeting. “Garrett?” she says, stepping forward. “Is it okay if I come in?” She looks uncertain, as though she’s never been in a horse stable before. Maybe she hasn’t.
I open the stall door and step out. “Yep, come on in,” I say.
She walks carefully across the wooden floorboards, some of which are uneven. I see that she’s wearing little ballet flats, a pristine white skirt, and a pretty, ruffled paisley blouse.
“Though if you’re going to spend time in here, you’d better change your outfit,” I say, with a little chuckle.
She frowns. “I’ll be going shortly,” she says. “I just wanted to check in with you to see when you wanted to meet today. I was thinking of going into Willow Creek and looking for a spot with cell service so I can get some work done.”
“Oh.” I feel my heart sink a bit. I thought she actually wanted to spend time with me.
I watch her approach. She looks beautiful, as always. With the sun on her, like this, she looks ephemeral. The pale light sparkles against her pale skin, and the sun passes through the filmy fabric of her top, around the ruffled sleeves at her shoulders.
I’m completely taken by her beauty, but at the same time aware that she’s just posed a question. “Well, how about two?” I say. “That will give me some time to exercise the horses and then handle a few work tasks, too. We can wrap up before I have to go get Colt.”
“Wonderful,” she says curtly. “Two o’clock it is. Do you think we should maybe have one of your lawyers join us in a conference call? If we’re going to draw up contracts, it might be wise to have them present right from the beginning.”
“Absolutely,” I say. “You’re right. That would be the smart thing to do. I’ll give my team a call.”
“Great,” she says.
She’s now closer to the stall, and she tilts her head to look past me at the horse inside. “This is your horse?” she says.
“One of them,” I say. “I already put the other out into the turnout area.”
Behind me, my horse gives a soft whinny. She steps forward and nudges my shoulder with her nose. I reach up and pat her nose. “She knows we’re talking about her,” I say with a smile. I turn to my horse. “You want to go join your sister, don’t you?” I ask.
“They’re sisters?” Karla asks, clearly intrigued.
I nod. “They came as a package deal when I bought them. When they’re separated, they get depressed. A few years back I had to take Cream Puff here to an animal hospital for an overnight, and Princess wouldn’t even look at me she was so distraught.”
Karla covers her mouth, as if she’s holding back a laugh. Despite her efforts, she giggles.
“What?” I ask.
“It’s just…” she says, “Those are their names? Cream Puff and Princess?”
I can’t help but chuckle, too. “That’s right,” I say. “This is Cream Puff, here, and Princess is outside.”
“Those aren’t the names I’d expect you to give your horses,” she says. “You have the whole ‘masculine cowboy’ thing going on.”
Genuine laughter fills my belly, and I laugh aloud. “You’re right,” I say. “The truth is, they came with these names. They were already trained, so I couldn’t change them. Believe me, if I had a choice of names, they’d have been Lightning Bolt and Thunder.”
Karla laughs again. “Now that’s more like it,” she says. She’s eyeing Cream Puff with curiosity. “This one’s pretty,” she says.
I give Cream Puff’s nose another pat. She rests it on my shoulder and gives me another nudge. “I think she wants you to say hello,” I say.
Karla moves back a bit and crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, I don’t think so,” she says.
“Have you ever met a horse before?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to get bitten. Animals and I… we don’t really get along that well.”
“I don’t believe that,” I say. “Cream Puff here likes you already. She won’t bite. I chose these two specifically for their gentle nature. They’re Appaloosa horses and were raised on a ranch that offered trail riding to the public. I needed horses that I could trust with Colt when he was younger. Cream Puff here is as predictable and kind-hearted as they come.”
“Well… okay,” Karla says hesitantly. She steps forward, and I make a bit of room in the stall’s entryway so she can have access to Cream Puff.
“Here, give her this,” I say, fishing in my pocket for the little bag of baby carrots I brought with me. “Hold your hand out flat and put it in the center of your palm.”
I hand the carrot to Karla, and she does as I instruct. She giggles as Cream Puff takes the treat.
“She is gentle,” she says. She reaches up and strokes Cream Puff’s nose.
I watch Karla look into Cream Puff’s large eyes, and I grin. I remember how magical it was to spend time with a horse for the first time. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” I say gently.
She nods. “She’s so present,” Karla says. “She’s looking at me like all there is to life is this moment, right now.”
“Maybe she’s right,” I say.
Karla and I are quiet for a moment. Then, Karla steps back. It’s as though we were both under a spell, and it’s just been broken.
She squares her shoulders. “Well, I’d better get to town,” she says. “I’m sure my emails are just piling up.”
She looks at me, as if waiting for me to protest.
I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. There is a path laid out before Karla and me, and it’s a reasonable, smart path to take. We’ll both work today. I’ll arrange for my lawyer to join us on a conference call at two. We’ll meet and discuss our plans for moving forward with Karla’s pregnancy. We’ll get some details down in writing.
It’s all very smart. Very logical. It’s the best way forward.
I nod. “See you at two,” I say.
She purses her lips, nods back at me. “Okay, then,” she says. She turns and walks away from me.
I watch her go, and my heart thrums with protest. At first it’s quiet, and I manage to push it aside. But then the ache of desire in me becomes stronger.
“Wait!” I say, before thinking.
I don’t know where the word came from, or how it escaped my lips. All I know is that relief washes over me the moment the word is spoken, and Karla turns in her tracks. “Wait,” I say again. I close the stall door behind me, and then walk toward Karla. I point to two saddles hanging on the wall of the stable.
“Would you like to go for a ride with me this morning?” I say, before I can second-guess myself. “The horses need exercise. I was going to take one on a loop around the property, and then the other, but it would be better if we took them both at once. Like I said, they get separation anxiety.”
Karla looks relieved, too. I get the sense that she didn’t want to leave me, either.
She pushes her hair behind her ear and looks up at the saddles. “I’d like to help,” she says. “But I don’t know how to ride.”
“I can show you,” I say. “You could ride Princess. She’s the one Colt usually rides. She’s slow and steady—perfect for a beginner. Once you’re on, all you have to do is sit and enjoy the scenery.”
“That actually sounds pretty nice,” Karla says. “It’s a beautiful day out… I hate the idea of spending the whole thing inside, staring at my computer screen. And if you need help…”
I nod. “I do,” I say.
I reach up for the saddles and pull one off. I turn, and am about t
o hand it to her, when I catch sight of Karla’s outfit again. I look her up and down, wondering how in the world she’s going to straddle a horse in the skirt she’s wearing, and how her feet will do in the stirrups in those little flats.
She seems to pick up on my thoughts, because she looks down at her skirt and shoes, too. “I should probably go change, right?” she says. “I have a pair of jeans I can put on, and some sneakers. Will that do?”
I grin. “That’ll do,” I say. “I’ll go saddle up Princess while you change.”
I watch her exit the stables again, and this time when my heart thrums, it’s not in protest, but with excitement. So much of what has been happening between Karla and me feels wrong. The business-like rapport, the meetings, the negotiations over custody. It’s nice to finally be doing something with her that feels right.
I lift the saddle and hum a bit as I carry it toward the back of the stable, which leads out to the turnout area. There’s been a song stuck in my mind all morning, and as I hum, I realize what the tune is—it’s the first song Karla and I danced to, when we went out line dancing.
I sing a few lines softly as I put the saddle over Princess’s back. “You be a good girl,” I say to her, patting her nose. “You’re going to be carrying a very special lady.”
Chapter 14
Karla
I rummage in the back of my car for a bag of clothes that I had stashed there. I guess one advantage of being between apartments is that I have a lot of extra clothing with me. I know I have some jeans in here somewhere…
I find a pair, pull them out, and hurry to the guest house.
After changing, I take a peek at myself in the bathroom’s full-length mirror.
My stomach feels fluttery, like I’m getting ready for a date.
This is not a date, I tell myself. Garrett only invited me because he needs help giving the horses exercise.
My little internal lecture does nothing to calm the butterflies, and the sensation of excitement only grows as I leave the guest house and return to the stable. I walk around to the gated area in the back and spot Garrett, standing next to a beautiful white horse, with a brown spotted pattern on her coat.
She looks similar to Cream Puff, except she has more white on her coat than her sister.
“Is that Princess?” I ask as I reach the fence.
Garrett leads the horse over toward the gate. “Sure is,” he says. “She’s eager to meet you.” He opens the gate. “Here we go, girl,” he says to the horse as he leads her through the opening. He hands me another carrot, and I give it to the stunning creature in exactly the way that he taught me.
Princess’s muzzle tickles my palm, and I tilt my head back and laugh. The sun hits my cheeks, warming them, and for the first time in months—or is it years—I feel truly happy. Joy courses through me unexpectedly.
The feeling of happiness continues as Garrett shows me how to place my foot in the stirrup, step up, and throw my leg over the saddle. He then leads the horse, with me on it, back into the turnout area. He walks by my side, leading Princess in a circle around the perimeter of the fenced-off area.
“See?” he says. “Nothing to it, right?”
I bob up and down ever so slightly with each step that the horse takes. At first, the motion feels a bit frightening, but I soon get used to it.
“I think I can do this,” I say, finally loosening my grip on the horn that sticks up out of the saddle.
“I know you can,” Garrett says. “Let’s do one more lap in here, and then I’ll get Cream Puff and we can hit the trail. Does that sound good to you?”
I nod. “Sounds great,” I say, meaning it. I thought riding a horse would be a lot harder. Garrett is making it easy for me. He’s a good teacher. He patiently walks along with us, at a slow pace, as Princess makes another lap. It’s not necessary—I’m already feeling confident on Princess, but I find it nice that Garrett wants to make absolutely sure that I’m comfortable.
Garrett leads us out of the turnout area and hands me the reins. He goes over some simple instructions about how to use them, and then returns to the stable to get Cream Puff. Soon, we’re heading out into a wide-open meadow, along a narrow dirt path. The path cuts through tall grass and then winds its way up a gentle hill. Soon we reach a wooded area. Sunlight peeks through the canopy of green leaves above us.
I feel my whole body begin to relax, soothed by the gentle sway of the horse’s gait. Garrett seems tranquil and relaxed, too. When we speak, it’s about the surroundings. It doesn’t feel right to talk about business matters out here.
Garrett clearly loves the land. As we pass trees and flowering bushes, he informs me of their names and what they can be used for. He takes good care of the horses, too. After about an hour of riding, he leads us to a creek so that they can drink.
I like seeing him speak softly to the horse he’s riding, Cream Puff. She seems to understand his directions perfectly. “Slow down, girl,” he says as we approach the creek. She cuts her pace in half. “There we go. Careful now, it’s a bit rocky here. You’re going to like this water.”
We stop and relax by the creek. Garrett pulls water bottles and granola bars from a little pack that’s hanging down at his horse’s side. We eat as the horses drink. While I sip water and munch on the sweet, nutty bar, Garrett tells me stories about times he’s spent with his horses.
As he speaks, I notice how relaxed and smooth his tone is. It strikes me that although Garrett lives and works in the city, he seems completely at home out here in the woods, with his horses, the tall trees, and a big, expansive sky above.
He seems so comfortable out here. So relaxed. So peaceful. Very different from the man who was so upset with me out on the stairwell at Crystal Clear Skin Care.
I like this side of him. It’s nice to see him open up, express love for his horses, and be comfortable in his environment. Maybe there’s more to Garrett Green than I thought, I realize, as I once again mount Princess, and we continue on our way.
Morning turns to afternoon, but neither Garrett nor I want the afternoon to end. Whenever we get to a branch in the trail, Garrett points to the route that will take us back to the ranch, and we both decide to go in the other direction. Despite the many times we extend the ride, eventually the ranch comes back into view.
We return the horses to the stable, and I help Garrett brush them down and put out fresh food and water.
When Garrett realizes it’s already time to go pick up Colt from camp, I can’t believe the day has passed so quickly. It felt like just an hour ago that we headed out for the ride. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud as I make my way to the guest house. I shower, change, and then contemplate the ingredients that I have in the refrigerator.
The meager lunch of granola bars and fruit has left me hungry. I have all of the ingredients for a nice marinara sauce, made from scratch. In fact, I have enough to make enough sauce for a whole dinner party.
This realization stirs up an idea in me. Soon, I have a tote bag packed up with ingredients, and I’m heading over to the main house. I’m going to cook dinner for Garrett and Colt. Garrett had a light lunch, along with me, and he must be just as hungry for a good meal. This will be a nice way to show him that I enjoyed the tour of his property.
I find a stereo in the kitchen and put on some upbeat music. I’m so happy that I find myself dancing from the fridge to the counter to the oven, completing one task after another. Soon the water is boiling, the sauce is simmering, there’s cannoli filling in the fridge and cannoli shells baking in the oven.
At quarter to six, I hear the faint sound of the ranch door opening and voices bantering back and forth. Colt appears in the kitchen first. “Karla!” he exclaims. To my surprise, he rushes toward me. I’m holding a sauce-covered wooden spoon, and I quickly deposit it on the countertop so that I can accept his hug. He seems so much happier than he was the last time I saw him, crying in the hotel conference room.
I hug him back and say, “Colt, bud
dy! It’s so good to see you. How are the fractions going?”
He releases me. “I’ve been acing my math quizzes. But now we’re doing percentages. Ugh!” He rolls his eyes.
“Oh… percentages,” I say. “For that one all you need to do is think about buying things that are on sale. I’ll show you if you want.”
“Thanks,” he says. He sniffs the air. “What smells so good?”
Garrett steps into the kitchen and echoes his son’s words. “What is that smell? I don’t think it’s ever smelled this good in here—do you Colt?”
Colt shakes his head and then points a finger at his dad. “That’s because you always burn everything.”
Garrett puts up his hands. “Hey, do you want to make our toast in the morning?”
I laugh, and so does Colt.
“No… you can have that job, Dad.” He points to the pot of sauce. “Is that spaghetti sauce?”
I nod. “It’s a tomato marinara… my grandmother’s recipe. I made fettuccine, too, and a tossed salad.”
“Salad, no!” Colt says with a groan.
Garrett looks at me and laughs. “You’d think green vegetables were this kid’s mortal enemy by the way he reacts to them.”
I meet Garrett’s eye. He doesn’t have to thank me for preparing dinner with words—his look says it all.
We look into each other’s eyes for a minute, and then I snap out of it and reach for the spoon again. “I just have to cook the pasta, but it only takes about six minutes.” I stir the sauce. “Everything else is ready.”
“Colt, let’s set the table in the dining room,” Garrett says. He reaches into a cupboard and pulls out a stack of plates.
In the flurry of activity that follows, I lose myself in the happiness of serving food to people I care about. It feels so good to fill their plates with the meal I’ve prepared, and then watch their faces light up as they take first one bite, then another and another, growing more appreciative the entire time.