“Here?” Arthur asks gently. I nod, unable to form words. “Tell me if it’s too much. Or not enough.” I bite the insides of my cheeks so hard I’m sure I’m about to start bleeding, but I refuse to moan while he touches me. Especially while Rosemary is sitting right next to us. So I remain silent as he helps soothe an ache so much greater than the one that came with my injury. The loneliness caused by a lifetime of feeling ignored and unimportant lessens significantly when people acknowledge what they can’t see.
Minutes, or maybe hours, later, Rosemary shifts. “Dang it. I lost again,” she mumbles. Must’ve been playing Solitaire. She’s obsessed. “All right kids, I’m gonna hit the loo and then we should head back. Alice, I don’t want you to go as hard this afternoon. It’s not worth the damage you could be doing to yourself, all right?”
Sensing her eyes on me, I open them and give her a tight smile. I know she’s right, but I want to see as many horses as possible. “You got it, Ro.” She walks away, taking our trash with her. “Thank you,” I say loud enough for her to hear, though she doesn’t reply. I touch the top of Arthur’s hand gently and turn until I can see his face. “Thank you,” I repeat, this time just for him.
With a sigh, he removes his hands from my shoulders. “Please take it easy this afternoon, okay? Let me help with anything that might make this worse?” I adore the way he asks me without telling me.
I’m about to protest, say I’m fine, promise to go easy, but I don’t get to because he erases all of my thoughts with what he says next. “Rosemary’s gonna eat and be passed out before seven o’clock tonight. If you’re not too tired, I’dreally like to take you out to dinner. We gotta do something other than look at horses while we’re here, right? I won’t keep you out late, I promise.” He tilts his head, the silent question hanging between us.
“Oh, um, yeah.”
Geez, Alice, got any words with more than one syllable?
“That sounds good.”
That’s better. Wait, those are all still one-syllable words.
The knowing smile he steals my breath away with does nothing to help with the heat rising from my neck to my cheeks.
“All right. Shall we, then?” He stands, offering me a hand. I don’t need the help, and we both know it, and yet…
Two hours later,a smaller dapple gray horse with kind eyes watches me approach. His silver coat is speckled with charcoal rings that speak of good breeding and gentle years. The gelding caught my eye earlier as he grazed next to a brown goat. As I read more about him, I find out he’s a retired steeplechaser, moved here from Virginia for retirement, and is extremely calm. He could be the perfect temperament for therapy work, and Ro’s already given me the green light to see how we work together.
Like with Moose, I connect with Winston almost immediately, and after thirty minutes, I’m feeling great about his potential.
“Sorry to interrupt,” a gentle voice comes from behind me, and Winston remains perfectly calm. Another great sign.
“Hi, there,” I greet the young woman, wiping my handon my breeches to shake hers. “I’m Alice. I’m with Agape Stables.”
“I’m Amy, one of the volunteers. I happened to see you spending extra time with Winston here, so I wanted to give you a little heads-up.” Her wince does nothing for the confidence I had in this gorgeous boy. “He’s lovely, but he’s bonded to his companion goat, Goaton Ramsey—named for his, uh, strong opinions about feeding time.” Her low chuckle has me clasping a hand over my mouth to hold in my laughter. “I know, right?”
“Oh, that is too good,” I say, running a hand down Winston’s neck.
“What’s too good?” Arthur asks as he and Rosemary come around the corner, and I watch the horse closely for any indication of nervousness or discomfort. He’s curious, but not reactive, which makes me smile.
“This lovely boy has a BFF—Goaton Ramsey!” My eyes go wide, and I can’t help the huge grin splitting my face as I tell them.
Rosemary immediately laughs, but Arthur is very much giving ayou’ve got to be kidding melook. “Sounds like a winner,” Ro says. “Let’s walk out and chat a little more.”
We leave Winston with Amy and step out of the barn, but before we can talk about the goat, Rosemary takes a phone call. It’s Arthur and me again. And sure, there are plenty of people around, but even a farm like this feels small when I’m standing in front of him, the object of all of his attention.
“A goat? Really?” He doesn’t seem upset, more… incredulous.
“Oh, Arthur, pleeeeeeeease?” I beg. “Winston was wonderful with me. And he’s on the smaller side, so he won’t be as intimidating for people who aren’t used to horses. And kids will love a goat, so I could use him as partof the therapy program. And, I mean, Goaton Ramsey? It’s hilarious!” He’s watching me with those magical brown eyes, and I tuck my hands into my back pockets to keep myself from any more hand gestures or fidgeting as he considers taking on a farm animal.
“All right, goldie. I guess we have a goat now.” He smiles when I gasp in shock, and that smile turns into a full belly laugh when I break into a happy dance, right there, in the middle of the farm. I think it might be even more rewarding to make him laugh than it is to find a horse we can bring to the ranch. What a good, good sound it is.
TWENTY-THREE
have we died and gone to food truck heaven?
Arthur
Fuck, I’m nervous.
I guess some part of me thought she’d laugh at me for asking her to dinner, or maybe think nothing of it because we’re roommates and therefore eat together all the time, but she was nervous, too, when I asked her. Like she knew this was different.
I didn’t plan on doing this here, but after today, I’m not sure how much longer I can keep my feelings to myself.
