These Sorrows We See

by Schultz, Tamsen

  “Or you can take mine,” Matty said, digging her own keys out.

  “You have that cute convertible, don’t you?” Jane asked with a gesture toward Matty’s car. Matty nodded. “You don’t have to offer twice,” Jane grinned and took the keys. “We can drop the car by later today. Or, if you’re coming to dinner tonight, you can grab it then.”

  Matty shrugged, figuring they’d figure it out somehow. As Jane and the twins left, the boys talking excitedly about riding in a convertible, she turned back to Dash, who was grinning a different kind of grin than his sister.

  “Want a ride, little girl?” he asked.

  “You sound like a dirty old man,” she replied with a smile.

  “Dirty, maybe. Old, not even close.” He surged to his feet, taking her with him. She let out a very girly squeal as he tossed her over his shoulder and started for his truck.

  “Dash, put me down,” she demanded, still clutching the ice pack.

  “Dashiell Kent,” Matty heard his mother saying.

  “Sorry, Mom, I’m busy. I’ll talk to you tonight,” he called over his shoulder.

  Matty turned beet red as she heard several other people hoot and holler. “I swear to god, Dash, you will pay for this,” she said, just loud enough for him to hear.

  He opened his truck door and deposited her on the seat. “I’m kind of counting on that,” he said, before silencing anything she was about to say with a kiss.

  CHAPTER 22

  MATTY COULDN’T REALLY COMPLAIN about the way Dash showed his contrition. They spent most of the afternoon relaxing together—yes, in bed, but also just being. She worked on some final pieces of her book while Dash went out and walked the fence to make sure it hadn’t been damaged in the storm. She’d had her eyes on the cows and most hadn’t really left the barn area since the storm so she wasn’t worried any had escaped, but it had never occurred to her to check the fence and make sure that they couldn’t escape.

  Later, they’d picked up around the house a bit, since it had been neglected with all the outdoor cleanup. When things were back in order, about a half hour before they were planning to head over to his parents’ house for dinner, Matty’s father called. Dash, without any prompting, had handed her a nice glass of red wine—it hadn’t exactly made the conversation easier, but at least it had given her something to appreciate during the awkward few moments she talked with Douglas.

  The situation still felt surreal to Matty—having had more conversations with her father in the past three days than in her entire life previously. And though she still didn’t think of him as her father in the traditional sense, she didn’t have it in her to turn him away.

  “Everything okay?” Dash asked after she ended the call with Douglas.

  She frowned. “Hard to say. He and Sandra have been told that Brad’s body will be released tomorrow, which is good. They’ll be able to hold the funeral service for him now.”

  “But?” Dash pressed.

  “But Brad was pretty clear about wanting to be buried here, in Windsor, which isn’t sitting well with Sandra. She wants to take him back to Connecticut; his dad—my dad—is trying to stand firm with Brad’s wishes. I think he won out, but it was hard to tell.”

  “Did I hear you talking to him this morning about coming to the pancake breakfast?”

  Matty nodded. “Yes, but he decided not to go because he knew several of Brad’s friends would be there and he didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. He said he went to one of the churches in town and volunteered to drive some of the seniors to appointments they might have missed over the past two days.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  It was, but she was very carefully trying not to have any feelings about her father. He was going through a rough time at the moment, to put it mildly, and right now she just didn’t trust that he had any reason for even trying to reach out to her beyond his own desperation. When the rawness of what he was experiencing dulled a bit, would he go back to Connecticut, to Sandra and the country club, and forget about her again? She really didn’t know the answer to that so she was intentionally keeping herself from getting too involved with him.

  She and Dash finished their wine in silence then headed to his parents’ house, which was anything but silent. Jane, her husband Greg who had arrived from New York City, the twins, and Kristen, whose father was still out of town, were all in residence and having a rowdy game of Twister.

  The gathering was unlike any Matty had ever attended. Oh, her grandmother had thrown grand parties, but they’d definitely never included Twister. And while there might have been a game or two of Pictionary at her grandmother’s, it was usually just the five of them—Matty, her mom, her grandmother, Charlotte, and Nanette—and it was never played with crayons, which was, apparently, the Kents’ writing utensil of choice.

  Matty was still smiling about the events of the night before when she woke up the next morning. The twins had convinced her to write a children’s story, Jane had given her the third degree about a character in one of her most recent books, Mary had told her she didn’t put enough sex in her books, and Dash and Greg had just sat back and laughed at her indoctrination into the Kent clan.

  “Did you have fun last night?’ Dash asked, lying beside her.

  She rolled over to look at him. “What gave it away, that I woke up laughing or the fact I almost peed my pants last night when Derek drew a woman in a short skirt after he pulled the word ‘hoe’ from the Pictionary box? I think your sister had what back in the day would have been called an apoplectic fit.”

  Dash lay on his back and chuckled toward the ceiling. “Yeah, it was fun watching her try to explain where they’d even heard that use of the word to my mom and dad.”

  Matty rolled onto her back for a moment, then rolled back up to face Dash. “My mom wants to come up,” she said.

  Dash turned his head, eyebrows raised. “How do you feel about that?”

  “How do you feel about that?” she countered.

  He shrugged, his bare shoulders rubbing against the cotton sheets. “I’m fine with it. You already know the bulk of my family. Sam and Nora, my youngest brother and sister haven’t been around, but you’ve met most of the rest of them.”

  “Yes, but this is a little different,” Matty said.

  Dash rolled his body to face her. “How so?”

  “She knows you’re different from other men I’ve dated.”

  “Um, my mom knows, well, she knows what she knows about you. And me,” he pointed out.

  “But your mom is so open and so, I don’t know, she just kind of embraced me. My mom will probably be more reserved. She’ll probably interrogate you, too.”

  “My mom embraced you for two reasons. One, you’re easy to like, and two, she knew she didn’t really have a choice. Remember she and my dad only knew each other two weeks before they were married. She knows what the family tradition does to people, so she knew when it hit me that she could either embrace you or not, but that it wouldn’t have any bearing on what would happen between you and me. She simply chose the path that would keep her family together, the path that would enlarge her family rather than split it. Your mom might not be so quick to get there, but my guess is that she’ll make the same choice.”

  Matty thought about that perspective for a moment, and in the end, had to agree with Dash. Her mother might not be as open and friendly as Mary and Will Kent, but Dash was an easy guy to like and her mother would never do anything to alienate herself from Matty—they’d been through too much together.

  She dipped her chin, conceding Dash’s point. “You’re right, but she’ll be more reserved, so please don’t be offended if she doesn’t welcome you with open arms.”

  Dash shrugged, “I’d be surprised if she didn’t put me through my paces. When is she planning on coming?” he asked, rising from the bed and heading into the bathroom.

  She relayed that part of the conversation she’d had with her mom. Carmen didn’t have a da
te yet, but now that Brad’s funeral service could be planned and they would know soon when Douglas and Sandra were likely to leave Windsor, they’d be able to set a date for her mom’s visit. Dash seemed unfazed about the whole thing and popped out of the bathroom, wearing a pair of jeans, to tell her so.

  “So, we’ll wait and see,” he shrugged. “And, at some point, you are going to have to decide what to do with everything Brad left you—from the house to the money to the cows to even the rabbits. But in the meantime, I was thinking about Trudy and Mara yesterday and want to make a quick run up to the farm to check on the two mares I cared for the other night. Trudy hasn’t called, but I didn’t see either of them at the pancake breakfast so I just want to make sure everything is okay. Any interest in joining me?” he asked.

  Matty thought about it for all of two seconds. Lying around in bed held some appeal, but so did visiting the farm, Mara, and the cute little foal, still only a few days old. “Can I see the baby?” she asked, rising herself.

  Dash lifted a shoulder. “I don’t see why not.”

  She went up on her tiptoes and brushed his lips with a kiss. “I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

  ***

  “Who’re they?” Matty asked Mara as they stood at the fence line watching the new foal, unharmed from the storm, frolic in the pasture. Matty was eying two men, one in his early forties, the other several years younger and quite a few inches shorter. They were clearly having a heated argument about something and both men were gesturing emphatically.

  “Oh that’s John, the owner’s son, and Carlo, one of the jockeys that rides for Mr. Green, the owner. One of the horses got hurt and didn’t run well yesterday at Saratoga. So now no one is happy,” Mara answered simply, as four year-olds often did.

  Matty frowned as the taller of the two men stomped off. The jockey, Carlo jammed his hands on his hips and stared at the ground. Matty couldn’t help herself, she’d never seen a jockey up close, and she was still staring when his eyes came up and landed on hers. He was too far away to distinguish much detail, but she was almost certain she saw a small feral smile touch his lips before he started their way.

  “Hi Mara,” he called when he got within earshot.

  “Hi Carlo,” Mara answered.

  “How’s Short Stuff?” he asked, gesturing to the foal with his head as he joined them at the fence line.

  “She’s good. She’ll come over for a treat in a little bit, but we just put her out so she’s getting her sillies out.”

  “Who’s your friend?” He gestured to Matty with his head.

  “This is Matty. She came with Dr. Kent to check on Trouble because she almost died the other night.” Matty heard the sadness in the young girl’s voice and she knew it was for the baby that Trouble, the mare, had lost.

  “Yeah,” Carlo consoled her. “That was a tough night. I was sorry to hear about Trouble and the baby, but I am glad Dr. Kent could help Lizzie and her foal,” he added, referring to the mare and foal Dash and Trudy had been able to save.

  Mara nodded, then added. “Matty was also here when Short Stuff was born.”

  Matty reached around Mara and held out her hand. “Matty Brooks,” she said.

  “Carlo Ruiz.” He took her hand, holding it a bit too long.

  “Is that what you named her?” Matty asked Mara. “Short Stuff?” she added with a gesture to the foal, who was making her way toward them.

  Mara shrugged. “For now. She’ll have some fancy name on her papers when my mom registers her, but she’s Short Stuff, or Shorty, to us.”

  Matty was pretty sure they were being ironic because the foal was only a few days old and already it looked to have grown substantially. She didn’t know a thing about horses but she’d bet this one wasn’t going to be anywhere near short.

  “You ride, Matty?” Carlo asked.

  She almost answered “not horses” before catching herself. Not only was Mara there, but she didn’t need to be intentionally tossing innuendos around with a man she’d just met. That it had even come to mind at all surprised her. But then again, she had to admit, for a man who was not that tall, he exuded a fair bit of alpha maleness.

  “Matty,” Dash said, coming up behind her. Glad to have him near, she turned and smiled. There must have been something in her smile, because he slipped a hand around her waist and dropped a kiss on her lips. “Having fun?” he asked with a nod toward the foal, who had decided it was much more fun to tear around the field than have a treat.

  “You done good, birthin’ that baby,” Matty said with a teasing smile.

  He let out a little laugh. “I didn’t birth anything, but I am glad I was able to help her mom along. Carlo, how are you?” he asked, acknowledging the jockey.

  Carlo inclined his head.

  “I heard about Tenacity,” Dash added. “One of the Green’s horses that got injured up at the track yesterday,” he filled Matty in on what Mara had already mentioned.

  Carlo shook his head and uttered a series of profanities in Spanish. Matty was sorry for the injury, but when Carlo muttered something about a father of a goat, she snorted, causing him to stop.

  Carlo turned to her, curiosity in his eyes. “You understand?” he asked in Spanish. She answered in the affirmative and told him her mom was from Puerto Rico. They continued their brief conversation in Spanish, but stopped when Trudy walked up and handed Dash a check, presumably to cover his services. Taking that as their cue to leave, Matty and Dash said their good-byes and made their way back to his truck.

  A few minutes later, they were driving back to her place. “What was Carlo saying to you?” Dash asked.

  Matty lifted a shoulder. “Not much other than he doesn’t often see Spanish-speaking people at the farm who aren’t cleaning the stalls.”

  “It sounded like he said a lot more than that,” Dash commented.

  Matty felt a smile tug at her lips. “He did offer to let me compare recipes if I ever got tired of the gringo, if you know what I mean.”

  Dash’s head whipped around to see if she was serious, then abruptly returned to the road when he remembered he was driving.

  “He didn’t.”

  Matty laughed. “He did.”

  “Ballsy of him, considering you were there with me.”

  “He probably weighs no more than 120 pounds and, if what I learned watching the Kentucky Derby is right, he regularly sits atop 1,200 pound, three-year-old thoroughbreds. I don’t think cojones, or lack thereof, are an issue for him.”

  Dash grunted, making her laugh again. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “If it makes you feel any better, I had the urge to tell him you were my fiancé, just to make it clear I’m off the market—not that you are,” she added, in case her announcement made him drive off the road.

  To her surprise, he seemed unperturbed by her comment. “You should have,” was all he said.

  “I think I would have if I thought it would have made a difference, but I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to actually care one way or the other,” she responded. They rode a few miles in silence and she began to wonder why she had even mentioned her errant thought to Dash in the first place. It wasn’t a lie, it had crossed her mind, but two things had kept her from saying it to Carlo. One she’d shared with Dash, but the other was that the lie would have rolled easily off her tongue—so easily, in fact, it made her wonder if it was the truth. She and Dash hadn’t talked about the whole marriage thing since their first night together, but for the first time in her life, she could actually bring herself to consider the possibility. Not that it was going to happen as fast as his family seemed to think, but she wasn’t as freaked out by the idea as she expected. Now, she actually felt open to considering it, open to the possibility that spending the rest of her life with someone could be a decision she would want to make.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” Dash said as he pulled onto her road and headed toward her house.

  Matty shrugged. “Just thinking about my book,”
she lied.

  He pulled to a stop in front her house and turned toward her. “Liar,” he said, but with a smile. “You’re thinking about getting married, aren’t you?”

  “No,” the words were out of her mouth faster than a bullet.

  Dash laughed. “You are. Admit it.”

  “I won’t.” Great, now she was sounding like a petulant child. But still, Dash laughed. Then he pulled her toward him and kissed her properly. When he pulled away, he still held her face close to his.

  “I have a few errands to run today and then I need to check in with the clinic this afternoon.”

  She leaned forward and kissed him again because, well, because she wanted to. When she pulled away, he grazed a thumb down her cheek.

  “I have some work I need to do on my book. I’m almost done and I just want to finish up a few things, double check a few things, before I send it to my editor,” she said.

  “So you’re going to stay home?”

  She nodded and brushed another kiss over his lips. “Maybe I’ll even cook dinner.”

  Dash smiled and released her. “Don’t bother, why don’t we go out tonight?”

  Matty agreed and opened her door. She was about to slide out of her seat when Dash grabbed her hand. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Hopefully, I’ll get the book done today and then I’ll be home free for at least a little bit—while my editor tears it to shreds, all in the name of making it better.”

  After one last kiss, she closed the truck door behind her and though she would normally wait for Dash to leave before entering her house, she knew he’d want to wait until she was inside before he left. And so she waved and entered the house. It was quiet inside, all the dogs having flooded out when she’d opened the door, but inviting. She was looking forward to finishing her book. She wasn’t sure what she would do once it was done, but it was so close that she just wanted to tie up the loose ends and launch it into the next step in the publishing process.

  But an hour later, she still wasn’t feeling it. Something was nagging at her brain and she couldn’t quite place it. It wasn’t something about her book, although there were a few areas she thought needed cleaning up. And it wasn’t about her last conversation with Dash. Sighing, she propped her chin on her hand and stared out the office’s big picture window at the cows.