Lauraine Snelling (22 page)

“Do you assign the horses and volunteers?”

“I do and I supervise, as does my assistant. Now I know you already know the basics of horsemanship, grooming, and tacking up, so today I’d like you to observe the riders in the arena. By the way, some of the clients will ride double—I mean have an aide riding with them until they gain some balance and confidence. Watch to see how the volunteers react with their riders.”

“Thank you. I’m hoping you’ll teach me how to train Breaking Free for Eddie too.”

“Oh I will, but today just observe. You might want to take notes. You need paper and pen?”

“No, I have them in my backpack.”

“Good, I’ll come by to answer your questions and point out things after I get this new client taken care of.”

Maggie took a seat on the bleachers and drew out her notebook and pen. While the commands given the riders were too soft for her to hear most of the time, she watched one adult straighten her back and legs. It appeared she’d had a stroke with partial paralysis on her left side so using her whole body on the horse strengthened muscles that otherwise would atrophy. A little girl rode in front of a volunteer, her smile wide, her helmeted head supported by the volunteer’s chest. The little girl cried when it was time to dismount.

While it appeared the horses did nothing more than plod around the arena, they also stood perfectly still while people mounted or dismounted, took treats daintily, and let both small and large hands rub their faces and ears.

When Carly sat down beside her, Maggie turned half sideways so she could watch the riders and Carly at the same time. “You do this seven days a week?”

“No, we usually have Sundays off, unless there is a special event like the horse show coming up. We are also forced to do a lot of fund-raisers. This is an expensive operation as you can guess. That’s a lot of my job, meeting and greeting, begging and pleading. If we can get people out here to see what we really do, usually they want to help on some level.”

“Strange, but before today, I thought this was mostly for children.”

“Physical and occupational therapists are realizing the benefits of therapeutic riding for all ages. So many muscular and neurological disorders and injuries can be helped here. Look around you, wouldn’t you rather exercise here than in some gym?”

“No contest.”

“About training Eddie’s horse. It’ll need to learn voice commands. Since Eddie has no leg strength, the regular leg aids won’t work. Eddie will use the reins for some signals, turning, stopping, and backing up. So when you are riding the horse, when you would use your legs, say the command at the same time. ‘Forward’, ‘stop’, etc.”

“All right. I’ve already started some of that, and Breaking Free is a quick learner.”

“Eddie knows many of the commands from working here so let him teach you too. That will really boost his confidence.”

Maggie saw Maria drive into the parking lot. “I need to get going. See you tomorrow?”

“Yes, be ready to work in the arena.”

“I will.” Maggie stuck her notebook and pen in her backpack and slung it over one shoulder. Tomorrow she would wear her baseball cap for sure. Already her nose felt tight, a sure sign of sunburn.

“Thanks for the ride, Maria,” Maggie said back at the house.

“You are welcome. Do you need more groceries?”

“No thanks, you stocked my cupboards with plenty. And your enchiladas are fantastic.” Maggie waved as she took the path to her trailer, passing the work site where they were installing the windows in Gil’s future office.

The morning had given her plenty to think about. After eating the remaining enchiladas and rinsing her dishes, she headed for the barn to saddle Breaking Free. Training him to voice commands would take a lot of repetition, no matter how smart he was. Two hours later she saw the car go out again; Maria on her way to pick up Eddie from school. He’d be out here by three thirty. She gave the horse a break, cantering him across the pasture. While the horse snorted and played with the bit, he didn’t grab it and try to run away with her, which made her think how best to train him for the horse show. They needed another horse or horses in the ring to practice for the Rescue Ranch fund-raiser. If Eddie wasn’t ready to participate this time, he would be for a later event. Breaking Free had to learn that he didn’t need to race or outdistance any of the other horses but obey the commands he was told.

Maggie had just returned with Breaking Free to the barn when she saw Gil strolling over with Eddie zipping ahead of him.

“Hey, Maggie, did you ride him today?” Eddie’s smile added sun to his words.

“I sure did. He’s learning.” She watched as Bonnie and Breaking Free did their nose touching greeting and the big horse snuffled Eddie’s hair, making the boy giggle and reach with both hands to pat the sides of Breaking Free’s nose.

“You are the best horse. Pretty soon I’ll get to ride you.” He dug carrot pieces out of his pouch and handed one to the horse and one to the dog.

She glanced over to see Gil watching her instead of the tableau. What was he thinking with his face so somber?

“Today after grooming Breaking Free I want you to lead him around the pen, then you can take him out to graze before you feed him and put him away in his stall.”

“Do I have to clean the stall too?”

“No, I’ve already done that.” Maggie had already decided that Eddie needed to learn and do as much of the care of his horse as he was able. “Now, snap a lead rope on his halter first and then unsnap the two cross ties. Never leave your horse without a way to restrain him.” She demonstrated, then watched Eddie copy her actions. Together they left the barn with Eddie holding the lead rope in one hand while at the same time using both hands to propel his chair forward. The temptation to help him made her stick her thumbs in her pockets. But Breaking Free surprised her by not minding the alternate tightening and slacking of the rope.

“Okay, turn him around and return to the barn. You always need to be thinking ahead as to what could happen. What if Breaking Free spooks at something, what would you do?”

“Why would he spook?”

“Say a cat leaped out and frightened him.”

“Is he afraid of cats?”

She heard Gil’s snort behind them.

“I don’t know, but horses sometimes spook at shadows or anything unusual, like a paper blowing in front of them.”

“Would he run away?”

“He might.”

“Then I’d hang on tight to the rope.”

“What if it tipped over your wheelchair?”

Eddie stopped the chair and drew in the lead shank so Breaking Free’s head was even with the boy’s shoulder. He turned the chair and reached up to rub his horse’s nose. Breaking Free lowered his head. “You won’t tip me over, will you, Freebee?” Eddie laid his cheek against his horse’s nose, then turned back to Maggie. “I’d have to let go of the lead shank, but if I holler halt, he will stop.”

There’s another good reason for voice training. Maggie nodded. “That’s a very good answer, Eddie. I’m working on teaching Breaking Free to respond to your commands.” She heard Gil clear his throat and turned to see the man swallowing and sniffing. He nodded to her and the trio beside her. A long-eared dog with front paws on the wheelchair seat, a big red horse standing quietly beside it, and Eddie a hand on each—a trio bathed in light and love. She would capture this moment and keep it, a memory for a lifetime.

By the time Eddie shut the stall door behind him and slid the hasp home, shadows filled the barn. “I did it all,” he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice.

“Yes, you did.” His father nodded and ruffled his son’s hair. “I’m proud of you.” He turned to Maggie. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good night.” She walked with them out the door and turned to her trailer. That night she cried herself to sleep. Were they tears of sorrow for her losses or joy for the present? Most likely some of each.

Two days later, Gil stunned her with an invitation to come up to the house for dinner, said he had a surprise. “Maria said come at six.”

Maggie nodded. That would give her time to get cleaned up first. She put on the clothes she’d bought at Kmart for the first time, khaki pants and a royal blue T-shirt with a collar, and slid her feet into the scuffs. She had begun to wonder if she would ever have an opportunity to wear them. She stared into the mirror in the tiny bathroom. Hair gel or mousse would help, even hair spray, but she had none so she simply combed her hair, knowing that only wearing her baseball cap would help. Stepping outside was a sure answer—the wind picked up strands of hair and blew it wherever it so desired. So much for looking tidy.

The need to return to her hideaway grabbed her around the shoulders, fighting to drag her back. She shoved her hands into her back pockets and stared at the lights from the windows of the house. Welcoming lights that pulled her forward, gave her the strength to ignore the burrowing instinct and stroll up the walk, through the gate into the backyard, bypassing the lighted blue swimming pool, and up the slate ramp to the French doors. She sucked in a lung-expanding breath and knocked on the door.

Bonnie’s announcement of the visitor could surely be heard two houses away. Gil opened the door and stepped back, motioning for her to enter. She nodded and in spite of shaking knees, stepped through the door. Bonnie yipped and wagged so hard her whole body wiggled. Petting the dog was an easy way to catch her breath and glance around. The exterior of the house only hinted at the beauty of the inside. The rock fireplace led her gaze to the vaulted tongue and groove ceiling of the great room finished in the same light oak as the floor. Leather sofas and chairs, rust and orange chrysanthemums spilled over a copper bowl on the massive slate coffee table, matching another pot on the table behind one of the sofas. Color everywhere, from the original paintings on the walls to the stack of throw pillows next to the hearth.

“This is lovely.” She nodded to Gil who smiled back.

Maria brought her a tall glass with a sprig of mint leaf on the edge. “Welcome.”

“That’s Maria’s famous lemonade.” Eddie rolled his chair closer to her. “You look nice.”

“Thank you.” Maggie took a sip of the drink in order to cover her discomfort. Other than her trailer, this was the first home she’d been in for those long years. And home was the best word to describe Gil’s house. Beautiful, yes, but more than that—welcoming and comfortable.
Someday
, she promised herself,
I will have a lovely house again
. People had praised the home she’d made for Dennis and Charlie, and she would do that once more.

“Eddie said you made him work at the barn. That is very good.” Maria spoke from behind the chair-high countertop that marked off the cooking area. At one end of the counter an arrangement of miniature pumpkins and curious gourds spilled from a basket tipped on its side. Another sign that this was truly a home.

“He did well.”

“Eddie always do well.” Maria’s statement made Eddie roll his eyes.

Maggie watched the byplay and caught a look of pride on Gil’s face. What was the story behind this family? No mother, no trace of a wife in the pictures on the mantel or the tabletops.

Everyone might know all about her, at least Gil did, but Maggie had nothing to go on. Other than what she’d seen and heard.

“Wash up,” Maria ordered as she set a plate of various cheeses and crackers on the low counter, followed by veggies and dip. “Dinner in fifteen minutes.”

While Maggie took part in the dinner conversation, she never initiated a topic, preferring to watch the interaction between the three family members, for Maria was a real part of the family, in spite of her title as housekeeper. Eddie teased his dad about the surprise; Maria made a comment that set them to laughing, and Gil caught Maggie’s gaze every so often, sending a tendril of warmth twining around her heart. When he was at his most gracious and spontaneous, like tonight, he could charm the birds out of the trees.

The apple crisp Maria served with vanilla ice cream reminded Maggie of her mother’s recipe and therefore one of hers; a recipe hopefully locked safely away in one of the boxes being held for her at her attorney’s. Perhaps it was indeed time to make contact with her former life.

When they’d finished eating, Gil brought in a big cardboard box and set it beside Eddie’s chair.

“For me?” Eddie asked, eyes shining.

“Well, I didn’t offer it to Maria.”

“Knife, please.” Eddie took his father’s pocketknife and slit open the tape. Pulling back the flaps, he stared into the box. “A saddle! My own saddle! Bonnie, look, a Thornhill therapeutic saddle. See it’s special for me.” The dog put her front paws up on the edge of the box and peered in, her tail whipping from side to side.

“I bought saddle soap and a pad too.” Gil pulled the saddle from its nest of Styrofoam peanuts. “It’s all yours, son.”

“Thank you, thank you. Now I can ride Breaking Free.” He grinned at his father and then at Maggie. “I can, can’t I?”

“Tomorrow when you get home from school.” Gil glanced at Maggie to make sure she agreed. At her nod, Eddie spun his wheelchair in a circle, making Bonnie bark and chase him. Her antics made Gil laugh which made Bonnie, always the clown, bounce even more, her ears flopping, tail waving, a wide grin with tongue lolling in the basset way.

Maggie lowered her gaze to stop the burning in her eyes. Would Charlie have been exuberant like Eddie? Between the dog and the boy all she saw was pure joy. Sometimes joy hurt.

“Thank you for dinner,” Maggie said as she excused herself after helping Eddie inspect every inch of his new saddle.

“You are most welcome.” Gil’s gaze caught hers and held it. “Thank you.”

Maggie nodded and stepped out the French doors. Stars, like crystal bits of light, pinned the azure heavens in place. She’d not noticed before what warm eyes he had.

The next afternoon Eddie’s wheelchair sprouted wings as he rushed from the house to the barn. Both his father and Maria followed him.

“How was school?” Maggie asked.

“Fine, good. Can I ride now?”

“Grooming comes first.”