by Tinley Blake
We’re less than a hundred yards from the barn when the skies part and a flood pours down. Within seconds, I’m soaked through. I tap my heel to Spark’s flank and click-click him faster. The faster we move, the harder the rain hits. By the time I reach the barn, my flesh feels like I’ve been shot over and over by a dozen paintball guns.
“Hold on and I’ll open the gate.” Blake lifts her hand to let me know she heard me rather than trying to yell over the howling wind and rain. Once the gate is opened, we’re able to bring the horses inside and get out of the storm. I tie Spark off and then begin unsaddling him. Steam billows from his wet coat. We pushed them hard to make it back here before the storm broke, but even with running full-out, we ended up drenched. The saddle blankets I lay on top of stall doors to dry while Blake pulls the water and feed buckets from two empty stalls so the horses won’t eat or drink and get sick before cooling down.
With the horses cared for, we run through the rain to Blake’s place in search of dry clothes. The dirt-packed earth is now a mud pit clinging to my boots. Every step is an effort. I make it under the awning before her and spin around, searching through the rain for her. She’s laughing and dancing, spinning in circles and leaping through the air like one of the fae folk from the old world. Watching her and hearing her carefree laughter echo over the sound of Mother Nature, I slip, stumble, and fall a little more in love with her.
36
#youvegotthis
Blake
Today, I’ve decided, is the day I get my shit together, and first on my list of priorities is finding a place to live. The furnishings from my house in Mesa arrived weeks ago and have been gaining dust in a storage unit downtown since. I've licked my wounds enough, and I'm ready.
Sorta.
I don’t have the slightest idea where I want to live or how to go about finding something. Should I rent or buy? My mother’s house sits empty, a beckoning call in the distant recess of my mind, but the thought of moving in there doesn’t sit well with me. I could, at least while I go through everything in the house, but I don’t really want to.
Maybe I should start there. I could move priority two into number one’s spot and tackle the job of packing up and cleaning out my mother’s belongings. I should have done it ten years ago instead of hightailing it out of town, but after I lost her, I couldn’t even walk in her room, much less toss away something. Funny, considering I left it all behind and assumed until a few days ago that it was ruined, trash. I didn’t mind it being trashed back then as long as I didn’t have to be the one doing the throwing away.
With a clear plan in mind, I call Katherine and ask if she wants to join me. As the closest thing to family we had, a lot of the belongings would mean more to her than Goodwill and I wanted her to have them. She answers on the first ring. If she's surprised by my question, she doesn’t show it, and I can't help but wonder if by being unable to deal with this stuff, I have kept her from fully moving on too. Like we're both stuck in the past and desperate to let it go.
Katherine is sitting in a white rocker on the front porch when I pull up. It’s the first time I have made the drive down this road on my own since the day I left, and pulling in, seeing her there, I’m overcome with a sense of déjà vu. How many days did I walk down this driveway after school and see this exact scene?
"Hey, I'm glad you could make it."
"Of course I'd be here for this, girl. You shouldn’t have to do it alone." Her sun-weathered arms wrap around my neck, pulling me in for a quick hug. "How's that boy of mine treating you?"
"Good. He's always been so good to me."
"He's not too old for me to jerk a knot in his tail if he starts acting up."
Thankfully, Cal leaves the air on in the house even if it’s set on eighty. It’s a hell of a lot cooler than it is outside. I bump it down a few degrees so we don’t sweat to death while we work, and then I lug in a few boxes I picked up at the storage rental place.
"Where should we start?" The house is full, every room bursting with a lifetime's collection of objects.
"That depends on you." I was hoping she had a room in mind and I wouldn’t have to make that call, but since she seems content with leaving everything up to me, I head into the living room, dragging boxes along behind me.
"So, what do you think about making four piles? One for you, one for me, one for trash, and the last for donations?"
"Sounds good to me."
After an hour or so of working in silence, I come across Mom's old vinyl player and pop on one of her favorites. Hearing the scratchy tunes of Dolly fill the house again settles my aching spirit. There's not a day that goes by that I won't miss her, but I made us both a promise to never forget her again, and so when Dolly belts out Jolene, I stand, and using the small clear vase as a microphone, I sing the lyrics at the top of my lungs. Halfway through, Katherine joins me, and by the time the song finishes, neither of us has dry eyes. For the first time since losing her, I can feel my mother by my side, laughing and singing along. My soul is at peace, and another of the cracks in my heart fills in, covered by the glue of new memories and old uniting.
It's after dark by the time we finish for the day. After finishing the living room, we moved on to the kitchen and then the guest room. The number of boxes for Goodwill outnumbers the boxes we want to keep three to one, but I'm still surprised by the boxes full of items I couldn’t part with.
"Tomorrow? Same time?" Katherine asks before climbing into her S10.
"I'm meeting with the new team members tomorrow and need to get them started on the trails, but I should be here by noon. The key is under the pot if you decide to come earlier."
"Sounds good. You be safe headed home."
"You too."
On the way home, I stop and pick up a pizza then text Cal to see if he wants to join me for dinner.
I already ate, but I'm down for dessert. He replies, followed by a winky face. Incorrigible.
See you in five.
What can I say? I'm a simple girl with simple girl needs.
Feed me.
Love me.
I don’t require much else, but if he's offering, you can bet your buttered biscuit I'm gonna show up.
37
#whatthehell
Calvin
The next morning Blake is sleeping so hard I don’t bother waking her. We were up half the night eating pizza and watching reruns of some chick flick show about doctors. I couldn’t get into it but I liked being there when Blake started crying over something happening. I wouldn’t have left her at all this morning, but I put in an order for feed a few days ago and got a call yesterday that it would be ready at seven so I slipped from bed, fed the horses and hopped in my beat up pick up. If I was lucky I could pick up the feed and make it back before Blake woke up.
When I pull into J&J's feed the yard is full of trucks backed to the door. I step out of the cab and make my way inside.
"Hey Cal. I've got your order ready just pull on a door as soon as one clears."
"No problem Jay. Take your time."
Three hours and twenty-seven minutes later I’m loaded down and on my way.
I smell the sweet tang of smoke before I see it. When I finally find the source, my heart stops beating. I hit the gas. The truck bounces across a pothole and slides to a stop in the gravel outside the barn.
“Blake!” I yell, racing to the front. I can’t see past the flame and smoke. Samson kicks the walls of his stall, and I know, the way I know this fire isn’t natural, that Blake is inside. She wouldn’t have left Samson in there. She would risk her own life to save the smallest animal. There’s no way she’d leave him.
I know I’m right when I see the rest of the stall doors open, including Samson’s. But the damn devil of a horse won’t leave Blake. The smoke is thicker inside. I pull off my shirt and cover my face while pulling on Samson’s halter. When I get him out of the stall, I smack him hard on the ass. He shoots past the smoke and flames into the fresh, clear air.
My eyes are burning, but I don’t stop searching.
“Blake! Blake! Can you hear me?”
“Calvin? Blake?” I hear Beau outside now, and in the distance, the sound of sirens.
“I’m here. I can’t find Blake,” I yell back at him, and then I hear a whimper from the corner. I wave my hands through the air and crouch down, searching with my arms stretched in front of me.
I could pass out in relief when I feel her, but she isn’t moving and the relief I feel vanishes. I pull my shirt from my face and wrap it around hers before picking her up and trying to find my way out. If I hadn’t spent every day for the last few years here, I might not be able to find the door, but I know this barn inside out. I could navigate it in the dark, so I shut my eyes and put one foot in front of the other, following the sound of Beau’s voice.
When I clear the door, he takes Blake from me and I fall to the ground in a fit of coughing. I try to track them but my eyes burn so badly I can barely see three feet in front of me. I hear them, though. The volunteer fire department made it before the city. Mark, the chief, is shouting for oxygen and radioing in for an ambulance.
I pull myself to my knees and then my feet. I need to get to her. She’ll be scared and alone, and she needs me. I take a step and stumble.
“Hey, I got ya.”
“I need her.”
“She’s gonna be okay, man. You saved her. Now let’s get you looked at.”
“I need her,” I say, trying to pull away, but my legs won’t carry me on my own.
“All right, all right, I’ll take you over, but we have to get you checked out. You’re losing a lot of blood.”
I don’t feel the pain until he says that, and then that’s all I feel.
“My back.”
“Yeah, you got a pretty bad cut there. Don’t worry, the ambulance is on the way. We’ll get you taken care of.”
When we reach the rig, Blake is sitting up, fighting against Beau, who’s trying to hold her in place and force her to take oxygen. “I need to see Calvin. Let me go, Beau, or I swear to God, I will murder you in your sleep.”
“Fucking hell, Blake. What do you think he will do to me if I let you go? Either way, I’m fucking dead. Now sit down and let me help you.”
I would laugh if I thought I wouldn’t die. As it is, I stumble across the yard and barely make it her side. “Calvin. Are you okay? God, I thought I lost you. I can’t lose you, Calvin. Not now. Not ever again.”
“I’m fine. I’m okay,” I tell her, and then, unable to stand for a second longer, I fall to the ground. Everything after is a blur as I float in and out of consciousness, but I hear Blake threatening the lives of several other people. I could be hallucinating, but I think I hear her tell me she loves me.
38
#youcanttakehim
Blake
I can’t lose him. I just got him back. I don’t know how to even process the thought of losing him. I can’t see a future without Calvin. I don’t care how cheesy it sounds or what anyone in this whole damn world thinks about it. I need him the way a drowning man needs air.
I tried to live without him before. I had myself convinced I was happy and that life was good. In a lot of ways, it was, but I wasn’t happy. I didn’t even know what happy was. He made me want to kill him almost daily. He was arrogant and cocky. He thought he knew everything and treated me like someone who needed to be protected and worshiped when I wanted to be treated like an equal, but he’s my best friend.
My soulmate.
“I can’t lose him,” I say again and again, rocking back and forth in the hard plastic hospital chair. They rushed Calvin back to surgery to stop the bleeding over an hour ago, and so far, no one has come out to update us. My mind is running amuck, playing out ten thousand different possible reasons. Logically, I know it means they’re working. I mean, I’ve seen enough Grey’s Anatomy to know as long as the doctor doesn’t come out, everything is fine. Right?
But knowing something and telling my heart to believe something are two totally different things. Every time the doors open, I flinch.
“He’s not going anywhere. Cal’s too damn hard-headed to let a little cut keep him from you.”
I try to smile my thanks, but I’m afraid it comes out more of a grimace. News of the fire spread like . . . well, like wildfire. The local station reported on the incident, and since I had been promoting Point of Retreat on my personal account, someone from Arizona had grabbed the story. My phone hadn’t quit going off with notifications, so I finally muted them all and laid it facedown. I wanted to pick it up now and waste time on social media scrolling, but I didn’t want to see all that again.
We weren’t sure what caused the fire. The police had been here to interview me twice in the last hour. I don’t think I was very helpful during the first interview, so they came back for another. I didn’t have much to tell them. No, I hadn’t noticed anything strange. No weird smells or noises, except for Samson going a little crazy, stomping and kicking his stall. He hadn’t acted like that since I first rescued him back in Arizona, and usually, only when a man was around.
But I had been alone, working on cleaning out the stalls and putting down fresh shavings after I got the boys started marking off and cleaning up the trails this morning. Until I smelled the smoke. I had let all the other horses out earlier, except for Sammy, so I could come and go in their stalls without fear of them getting out, but since he was a stud, it was hard to let him out with the others.
I didn’t want him fighting or getting hurt trying to befriend a mare.
I stepped out of the stall to try and find the smoke when I saw the fire. My first instinct was to get Samson out.
Everything after that was a blur. The next thing I fully remember was fighting Beau and trying to get to Calvin.
Now he was in surgery, and I was waiting, slowly losing my mind.
“How much longer can it take” I ask no one in particular. The waiting room had slowly filled over the last thirty minutes. Half of them were people I didn’t recognize and the other half, I had seen around town. A few of the students who were recruited for the new 4H program stopped by but left again while I wasn’t paying attention.
“Beau? Blake?” I hear my name and lift my head. Katherine, Cal’s mom, is standing at the entryway, searching the room. I untangle my arms from my legs and stand.
“Over here.”
She hurries to the corner we’ve cleared out and claimed as our own. “Any word yet?”
“No. and every time we try to ask for an update, they say they can only release that information to family.”
“Well, if you two aren’t family, who is?” I shrug my shoulders and pull my legs back into the seat with me.
“Let me see what I can find out.” I nod my head and resume rocking. Katherine eyes me for a second before pulling Beau to the side. I can’t hear what she says to him, but he shakes his head back and forth and then sits back down next to me.
“He’s going to be fine.”
I hope he’s right. I need him to be right.
An hour, a second, a week. I don’t know how much time has passed before Katherine returns. I’ve been lost in the violent circle of my own thoughts. It’s not until I register the smile on her face that my mind stops screaming at me.
“What?” I ask.
“He’s out. Everything went great. He’s in recovery now and will be moved to a room in the next hour.”
I let out a shaky breath and then choke on it as tears clog my throat. I don’t want to cry. I never cry. It’s one thing I’m most proud of.
“They said only one person can visit in recovery. I think you should go.”
“Me?” Surely, I heard her wrong. She should go. He’s her son, after all.
“Yes, go and see him for yourself. He’s okay, Blake.”
“But . . .”
“Blakelynn Smith, get your ass out of that chair and go check on my son.”
I stand. “Yes, ma’am.” As
I make my way toward the hall leading out of the waiting room, I hear her call out.
“Room 6410.”
Calvin is still hooked to oxygen when I enter. There are several other lines coming and going from his body, IVs and whatnot, but he is awake.
I take a step into the room and stand next to the bed. I don’t want to touch him and hurt him, but I need to know he’s okay. His eyes search my face, my body, checking me over. I try to smile and reassure him.
“Hey.” My whisper sounds like a trumpet blaring. It’s so quiet in here, the only sounds the beeping of the monitor and the oxygen blowing. It hurts to see him like this. Almost as much as it hurt to see my mother in the same position.
Broken.
And knowing there was nothing I could do to help.
“Hey.” His voice is muffled through the mask. His hand lifts to pull it down, and I reach for it to help him. He coughs a little, and I try to shove it back on his face, but he pushes my hands away. “Are you all right? I was so worried.”
I laugh at that. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”
“What happened?” he asks, and I shake my head. I wish I knew.
“I don’t know. It started out of nowhere. One minute, I was shoveling manure and the next, the barn was up in flames.”
“The horses?” he asks.
“All fine. Samson too. Thank you for getting him out.”
“Stubborn ass animal. He didn’t want to leave you.”