by Judy Baer
“I love it, too. It’s given me a chance to learn about horses at my own speed. I can actually put a saddle on in the right direction now.”
A slow, lazy smile spread across his features and his eyes began to twinkle. “That’s progress, but I must admit I enjoyed seeing the expression on your face after you realized you’d put that saddle on backward. Which reminds me, how are those minis working out?” He’d arrived a few days ago, pulling a trailer with a pair of adorable miniature horses inside, and the kids had gone wild.
She moved to the fence and thrust her own boot—her first purchase after she’d started here—between the rails and imitated his stance. “Perfectly. They’re ideal for the smaller children. They can learn everything about grooming and caring for a horse that’s just their size. Even I have learned how to pick feet and groom manes and tails. It’s less intimidating when you can look down on the horse.”
He turned slowly until he was facing her, his arm still resting on the fence rail. “Marlo, I don’t know how to thank you. You’ve been more help than I ever expected or imagined, especially during Cammi’s illness.”
She’d been part-time receptionist, My Own Pony volunteer and cleaning lady in recent days. She’d led horses in the arena for the therapists, walked fussy babies for harried mothers and still managed to keep up with the Dining with Divas schedule, thanks to Lucy, who’d taken on more in the prep kitchen.
And she would have done even more, if she could have. Jake and Cammi had taken over most of her thoughts.
“Cammi loves the fact that you’ve visited her every day. Alfred and her parents think you are one of God’s gifts to that little girl right now.” He shifted toward her and Marlo caught his scent—leather, horse and fresh air blended with a spicy aftershave.
“It was a mild heart condition that was her underlying problem. The docs feel she can be treated and will live a normal life. She’ll have to be in the rehab hospital for physical therapy for some time, but it could have been much worse. I talked to Alfred this morning, and they’ve told him that they expect very good results.”
“And how is Alfred? I haven’t seen him out here much.”
“He was a wreck, but as Cammi improves, he does, too. My dad has been his rock through this.” Jake scowled, which didn’t do a thing to harm his good looks. Marlo admired his chiseled features and uncommonly long, dark eyelashes. “All this affected my father, too. Out of the blue, he’s telling me how important children are and that I should have some of my own soon. He’s suddenly realized he’s without heirs, other than me.”
Compassion crept into his tone. “He met mortality face-to-face. My father likes to be in control, and things aren’t working out his way. It’s difficult for him.”
Compassionate. Check. Jake was unvaryingly forgiving of his father’s idiosyncrasies. Marlo wished Jake didn’t fit the List so well. It would have been much easier to walk away from his friendship.
“You’re very different from him, aren’t you?” The wind whipped Marlo’s short, dark hair into a frenzy. “You resemble him physically, but not emotionally.”
Jake automatically moved a strand of hair out of her eye. The electricity that the innocent touch provoked startled her.
Dismayed, Marlo rubbed her arms to chase away goose bumps that had nothing to do with the weather. Couldn’t she even stand next to the man without being affected by him? “Looks like it will be an early fall,” she said inanely.
“That reminds me, I freed up one of the indoor arenas for the therapy program. We’re now capable of being open for business twelve months a year.” He looked at her sharply. “What’s wrong? Are those tears in your eyes?”
“Don’t mind me, I’m being stupid.” She scrubbed at her eye with the back of her hand. Suddenly, all the emotion she’d been so valiantly trying to subdue came to the surface.
Without a word, he took her by the arm and steered her toward a nearby stack of hay bales and set her down. His gaze worriedly scanned her face. “Marlo?”
“Sorry. I should be jumping for joy to hear that the program will run twelve months a year. I just feel like a bit of a failure myself right now.”
He said nothing, but his body language told Marlo how intently he was listening.
“I’ve mentioned my nephew to you,” she began softly, “but I haven’t given you any details about him.” She went on to tell Jake about the oxygen deprivation, of Brady’s fearfulness and the resistance she met from Jenny every time she mentioned having Brady ride. “Having this open year-round will give me more time to get Jenny’s permission to bring Brady here, but I don’t hold out much hope. It’s so frustrating to see children benefit from this and know that I can’t even get the child closest to me to take part. My sister loves Brady so much that she doesn’t realize that she’s not letting him really live. I’m frozen by Jenny’s resistance to suggestion where Brady is concerned.”
“This is why this program means so much to you.”
She nodded miserably. “But if I can’t get Jenny to budge….”
“If your sister won’t let him ride, at least have her and Brady come for a visit. Let her see that these horses aren’t wild, fire-breathing stallions.”
She hesitated, not quite sure how to bring that about.
“You know, Marlo, it might change his life.”
Marlo stood on her sister’s front step and tried to build the courage to ring the bell. Three times she lifted her hand to press the buzzer, and three times she allowed her arm to drop to her side. Just as she was about to try again, the door flew open.
“What are you doing out here? Why didn’t you walk in?” Jenny’s blond hair was clipped at the nape of her neck, and she wore a hot-pink turtleneck sweater.
“I was building up courage.”
“That’s silly, you don’t need courage to talk to me.” Jenny led her to the kitchen. “Coffee, tea or chai?”
“Chai, please. Where’s Brady?”
“He and his dad went to look for a storm door for the house. The way this weather is acting, it will be winter before we know it. I’ll bet there’s snow at Thanksgiving for Angela’s wedding.”
“She won’t like that. It isn’t in her plans.”
“Even Angela can’t arrange for good weather.”
“If the television weather person gets threatening letters mid-November, we’ll have a good idea who sent them.” Marlo was glad for the cheerful banter. For what she was about to do, Jenny needed to be in a good mood.
“What is so scary that you had to talk yourself into ringing my doorbell? You aren’t sick or anything? If there’s something…”
Marlo held up her hand before Jenny could work herself into a lather. “I’m fine. No one is ill. In fact, I just got a letter from Aunt Tildy. She’s taking riding lessons.”
“Horse riding? At her age?”
“Motorcycles, actually…but now that you bring up the subject of horses, there is something I’d like to discuss with you.”
Jenny’s expression grew wary. “If it’s about Brady going to Hammond Stables, forget it.”
“Just come for a visit. It’s taken on a life of its own, far beyond what Jake had envisioned. Now he’s in discussion with a group who would like to have him start a therapeutic riding program, one in which the rider is in charge of the horse, not the therapist or horse expert. There’s even preparation for the Special Olympics. Besides—” Marlo’s voice turned pleading “—you’ve never been there to see what I’m doing. The My Own Pony program is a huge hit.”
“What does Jake get out of this?” Jenny asked warily.
“Pleasure. Fun. Satisfaction. He has a disabled friend who’s encouraged him to do this. I told him a little about Brady and he wants him to come.”
“What is this, Marlo? Do you want Brady to be your ‘cause’?” Jenny asked caustically.
“It’s not like that, and you know it. I want you to see what is available for Brady, that’s all.”
“Everyone i
s ganging up on me.” Jenny’s voice shook with emotion. “Why can’t you all leave me alone?”
“What do you mean, ‘everyone’?”
“You, my husband, the doctor…you all want him to try all these things that are too dangerous! None of you understand!”
So she wasn’t alone in her quest after all, Marlo thought. “At least come and see other kids ride. Brady doesn’t need to do anything but watch. It might not be as dangerous as you imagine.”
Jenny threw the dish towel she was holding on to the counter. “I vowed when Brady was tiny that I would never do anything foolish again. I was imprudent once and it’s my fault he’s the way he is, and…”
“It is not!” Marlo felt frustration rise within her like a geyser ready to blow. “No one blames you for anything. I don’t get it, sis. When are you going to turn this over to God and allow Him to handle it?”
“I have.”
“Then why don’t you let Him help you?”
“I do… I have….”
“Forgive yourself and go on. God’s willing to forgive and to forget.” As far as the east is from the west, so far He removes our transgression from us.
“I’ve tried, Marlo. I’ve tried so many times. I’m not sure I know how.”
“Then ask Him to show you how.”
“Pray how to pray?” Jenny, her face red and blotchy, her eyes watering, looked so miserable that Marlo’s heart ached for her.
She moved toward her sister and put an arm around her shoulders. “He’ll show you. You’ll know. I’m sure of it.”
“Does it happen for you?”
“Yes, it does.” Marlo thought of the sense she’d had all these weeks—God didn’t want her chasing after Jake. He wanted her to wait on His direction. “I don’t always know what He means, but I trust that someday I’ll find it out.”
Jenny’s eyes cleared a little. “You’re talking about Jake, aren’t you? You love him. I can see it—and yet you do everything in your power to keep it platonic.”
“I have to trust God’s word, Jen, whether it makes sense or not.”
“If you can walk out in trust, I guess I can, too.”
Marlo’s head snapped up, disbelief on her face.
“Brady and I will come out to Hammond Stables just to look around. He will not ride and you will not try to convince me that he should,” Jenny said firmly. “We will visit, nothing more. That’s my final offer.”
“I accept. But if he really loves it…”
“Marlo, stop it.”
“Okay, forget I said that.” Marlo knew enough to quit while she was ahead. It was also time for her to go to work. “What day will you come?”
In the kitchen, Marlo hummed happily as she baked, knowing that Jenny had agreed to come to the stables. The Divas business had doubled, and more calls were coming in every day. Marlo had begun going in at 5:00 a.m. to begin food preparation. Lucy, meanwhile, was at her wits’ end with arranging the catering end of things. Angela was a particular problem. According to Lucy, if any of them made it through the wedding without breaking down or cracking up it would be a wonder.
That afternoon Marlo headed for the stables. She was laying out curry combs and hoof picks for the My Own Pony children when a platinum-colored SUV drove slowly into the yard. Jake, who was sorting through halters for the kids to use, looked up. Marlo gazed at the car and glanced away before doing a double take.
“My sister Jenny is here!” Marlo clapped her hands to her cheeks. “She brought Brady!”
He caught up with her before she reached the car, took her by the elbow and turned her toward him. “Don’t forget, Marlo, you’ve seen it yourself. Dreams can come true out here. Even for your nephew.”
Optimistic. Check.
If she’d dared, she would have thrown her arms around him and kissed him hard. But that wasn’t to be. Even if she didn’t get her way, there was still hope for Brady.
Chapter Eighteen
“Auntie Marlo, pet the ponies?” Brady pulled at the leg of her jeans, his eyes shining brightly up at her.
“Oh, I don’t think so, honey,” Jenny interjected smoothly. “We’re just here to look at the horses.”
Marlo smiled weakly at the little boy. “I think I can find a pony just your size.”
“Marlo!” Jenny said sharply. “You promised.”
“No riding, but we didn’t say anything about petting. Come on, Brady. Let’s go over here.” She took him to the area where a fat, shiny pony and two small, gentle-looking mares stood. “These are horses that live at Hammond Stables just to be petted, brushed and groomed,” Marlo explained. “Mr. Hammond bought them so that the brothers and sisters of the children who come to ride can brush them.”
“Bwush,” Brady demanded.
“Brush,” Jenny automatically corrected his pronunciation.
Marlo shot her a silencing look. She picked up a small curry comb and handed it to Brady. “Which pony do you want to comb?”
Without speaking, Brady headed for the fat black-and-white pony. He showed none of the fear or trepidation Jenny had predicted he would. Under Marlo’s supervision, he gently stroked the animal’s round belly. When the pony turned its head to look at Brady the little boy looked back with wonder in his eyes.
Marlo turned to look at her sister. Tears were running down Jenny’s cheeks and her shoulders were shaking with sobs.
Before Marlo could decide what her next move should be, she felt a warm presence beside her. Jake had returned. With his arm, he nudged her toward her sister. “Go to her. She’s having a meltdown. I’ll take care of Brady.”
He turned to the child, who was now staring fearful and wide-eyed at his weeping mother. “Hey, buddy, let’s brush the horse over here. Her name is Matilda. We call her Mattie for short. Can you say Mattie?” With little fuss, Brady was enticed to apply his curry comb to Mattie’s hide. Soon he was giggling happily and listening to Jake spin stories about the marvelous creature Mattie was. The way Jake was praising the little horse, she might well have been able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and save every child in the universe from having to eat broccoli.
Jenny, in a very un-Jenny-like fashion, sat down on a nearby bench, looking morose. “What’s going on, sis?” Marlo asked. “It’s okay. Brady doesn’t have to ride. Look how much fun he’s having!”
Jake had picked up the small boy and was holding him so he could comb Mattie’s forelock. The horse stood placidly, obviously enjoying the attention. Jake looked as natural with the child in his arms as Brady’s own father might.
“I know. That’s why I’m crying.” Jenny hiccupped and blew her nose.
“What would you be doing if he was having a miserable time? Laughing?”
New tears welled in Jenny’s eyes. “I’d be angry with you. I’d say, ‘I told you so, I told you that this was no place for my son.’ Don’t you see? That’s why I’m so upset!”
Marlo didn’t, but she held her tongue, waiting for Jenny to go on.
“I’ve always tried to do what I thought was best for Brady, to keep him out of situations I thought would be frightening or dangerous—like allowing him around horses.” Jenny’s eyes fixed on her smiling son. Brady had thrown one arm around Jake’s neck and was patting Mattie’s neck with his free hand. “Now look at him. I haven’t seen him smile like that in forever. All my protecting him, making sure the kids in my day care didn’t play rough around him, not letting him run because he might fall…” Jenny looked up at Marlo with a piteous expression.
Marlo had told her sister this a hundred times and in a hundred ways, but Jenny had always been impervious to suggestion and unyielding in her opinions about how her son should be raised. For the past five years no one, sometimes not even Jenny’s own husband, could make her see that Brady was tougher than she gave him credit for—a real little boy, not a porcelain facsimile.
“I’ve made a mess of things again, haven’t I?” Jenny said.
Something snapped inside Mar
lo. “Jenny, quit being so selfish! Get over yourself.”
Jenny gasped audibly. “What do you mean? I’d give my life for Brady!”
“You have already. But you’ve taken Brady’s life away in the process.”
Brady was now smattering kisses on Mattie’s forehead. Marlo had never seen him so animated. “Quit hanging on to the idea that any of this is your fault. Quit protecting him! Look at the wonderful things he is able to accomplish. I see children like Brady blossom every day. Get over it, Jenny. Allow Brady to have a life.”
Marlo hadn’t realized it, but she, too, had begun to cry. All the love, concern, apprehension and tenderness she felt for her sister and her nephew swirled within her in a dizzying kaleidoscope of emotion.
“I don’t think I know how.” The soft words slipped through Jenny’s lips. “I’m not you, Marlo. I’m not brave and funny and daring. I’m cautious, timid and fearful—even more so after Brady was born.” She held her hands in tight fists, skin taut, knuckles white. “I don’t know how to let go.”
Silently Marlo took her sister’s hand in her own. One by one, she pried Jenny’s fingers open until her open palm lay flat against Marlo’s hand. “Like this.
“Every time you experience anxiety, open your palms and offer what you are holding to God. Imagine whatever it is you’re grappling with floating away. He’s waiting to catch it, Jenny.”
“How can I ‘let go,’ when Brady is an ever-present reminder?”
“Give it to God again—and again—and again. He’ll help you break the habit of guilt and of fear.”
“Since when are guilt and fear a ‘habit’?”
“What’s that Chinese proverb? ‘You cannot prevent the birds of worry and care from flying over your head, but you can stop them from building a nest in your hair.’ You may feel guilty or fearful, but you don’t have to allow that to inhabit your whole life.” Marlo squeezed her sister’s upturned hands. “Be brave for Brady, even if you can’t be for yourself.”