Lauraine Snelling (23 page)

Like any kid, Eddie groaned.

“But today I will take pity on you, I have already groomed him, and he likes his new saddle. It fits him perfectly.”

“I didn’t think about the horse when I bought the saddle, only about Eddie.” Gil shook his head as he walked up behind his son’s chair. “So much to learn.”

“Horses can get sore backs from saddles that pinch or rub, and like anyone with an achy back, they get cranky. I read about one dude ranch where all the horses had back problems so the wranglers tried all the saddles on all the horses and found the perfect fit for each, labeling them with the horse’s name to keep it all straight.”

“Did it help?” Gil asked.

“Sure did. The horses improved immediately and everyone was happy.”

Eddie wheeled his chair up to the stall, where Breaking Free greeted him with a nicker. The horse then leaned his head down for a nose lick from Bonnie who sat up to deliver it.

“I cannot believe that horse and dog. Who would have dreamed they’d become such good friends?” Hands in the back pockets of his denim jeans, Gil stared at the scene.

“It’s a threesome: horse, dog, and boy. You read about these things, but when they happen right before your eyes, it makes you wonder.” Maggie chewed on the inside of her lower lip.

Gil turned to her. “Wonder about what?”

She stared back. “It’s just a phrase, you know.” She thought a moment. “No, it’s more than that. Mrs. Worth, who led our Bible study, often said, ‘It’s a God thing.’” This most assuredly was, this whole scenario, her here doing what she loved most instead of waiting on tables or running a cash register. Business people didn’t just hire ex-cons like Gil did. While she knew she would have a few financial resources, still she had feared life on the outside; rampant among the inmates were horror stories of no jobs, no friends, and no life once you left prison.

“Eddie says God is answering his prayers.”

“Then I am sure Eddie is right.” She pressed her lips together and nodded before turning to Gil. “I’ll need help to get him mounted so the sooner we can have a mounting block built like the one over at Rescue Ranch, the easier it will be on all of us.” She stopped and blinked at what she’d said. More like ordering than asking. She caught her lip between her teeth and turned to face him. “I’m sorry for talking like that.” Her fingers knit together all by themselves.

“That’s okay. We do need a mounting ramp built. I’ll get the construction crew on it tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie was feeding carrot pieces to his friends, one for the horse, one for the dog; horse gets impatient, dog woofs, boy laughs, and they start all over again. If only she had a camcorder other than the one running in her head to record all these memories; good memories to overlay the prison years and all the despair that accompanied them.

“Okay, let’s saddle him up and your dad and I will get you mounted and you can ride.” Maggie paused. “One thing, you’ll be on the lunge line for a while but today your father and I will be your walking aides.”

“Did you hear that, Freebee? We get to go riding.”

The horse nuzzled the boy’s shirt pocket looking for more treats, then found the pouch attached inside the arm of the wheelchair.

“Oh no you don’t.” Eddie pushed him away before he could help himself.

Maggie cross-tied Breaking Free in the aisle then saddled and bridled him, all the while answering Eddie’s many questions with all the patience in the world. A cool breeze drifted through the barn, inviting them to come out and play. She nodded to Gil. “We’re ready.”

Gil lifted his son into the saddle and Maggie secured the Velcro leg wraps that would keep the boy’s feet in the stirrups. She adjusted both stirrup leathers and looked up at Eddie.

“Are you comfortable?” At his nod, she continued. “Riding Breaking Free will be different than the schooling horse at Rescue Ranch so be prepared.” She checked the position of his hands on the reins, his posture, his seat in the saddle. “You ready?”

He stared down at her, a grin splitting his face, his riding helmet shading his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, here we go. Gil, will you please walk beside him on the other side, then do the honors and open the gate to the round pen?”

“Be delighted to.” He smiled up at his son. “And here I thought a small horse would be a good thing, instead you are up on a giant.”

Eddie leaned forward and patted Breaking Free’s neck. “He’s not a giant, he’s my legs.”

“Right.”

When they’d circled the round pen once with one adult on either side, she reminded Eddie that he needed to be in charge and give the verbal commands.

“Okay.” The boy took in a deep breath. “Forward, Breaking Free.” They practiced walk and stop-reverse-walk and stop, all the while staying on the edge of the pen since Breaking Free had a tendency to pull toward its center.

“Check your body.” Maggie nodded when she looked up at him.

Eddie gave her a verbal rundown. “Shoulders back, back straight, head up, hands even.”

“Where are your eyes?”

“In my head?” He grinned down at her. “I know, look between his ears. Look toward where I want to go. And concentrate.”

“Very good. Don’t let him go to sleep now.”

Eddie giggled. “How can he sleep and walk at the same time?” But he did what she said, and they continued working.

After half an hour, Maggie called a halt. “Are you tired?”

“No, I’m good.”

“You sure are, you’re better than good.” But she could see his shoulders beginning to droop. “One more round.” Once that was completed, she led them back to the barn. Gil snapped the cross ties in place and after loosening the braces helped his son dismount.

“You did great, Eddie. Amazing, in fact.” He set his son in the wheelchair then leaned over and laid his cheek on Eddie’s head. “I am so proud of you I could . . .” He looked to Maggie and nodded again. “You too.”

Maggie felt warmth steal around her heart. “Thanks.”

Bonnie yipped and did her wiggly butt dance of excitement then sniffed Eddie all over to make sure nothing was wrong. Assured that all was well, she gave his cheek, chin, and hands a good cleaning.

“You’d think he was one of her pups.” Gil smiled at Maggie as they watched the demonstration.

“She takes her job of caring for him very seriously.” But when Maggie saw Bonnie sit up to beg for more carrots, she felt something strange rising within. Could it be laughter? How long had it been since she had laughed? She made a face and went to unsaddle the horse and help Eddie brush him down. While he’d not worked up even a drop of sweat, she needed to keep her hands busy and nothing was more calming than grooming a horse.

When she picked the horse’s feet, she felt that one of his shoes was loose. “See that?” She wiggled the shoe. “Loose.”

“So what do we do?” Gil leaned closer to see what she was talking about.

“I thought I heard it when he walked on the asphalt. I can pull them if you could get me a nipper and a rasp, or we call a farrier.”

“You mean you could get his shoes off?”

She nodded. “That’s what I said, but I’d need the tools to do the job.”

“But what if he kicked you?”

She sent him a puzzled look. “Why would he do that?”

“Well, I don’t know, but . . .”

“You’ve seen me pick his feet. Pulling the shoes is not that different, just takes more time, and I’ve been trained to do it.” She concentrated on keeping patience in her tone. Why was he making such a big deal of this? She glanced over to see Eddie still brushing his horse, as high up as he could reach.

“In prison?”

“Yes.”

He watched her for a long moment. “Which do you prefer?”

“Well, it would be cheaper to let me do it, but like I said, I’d need a nipper and a rasp.”

“Cheaper isn’t the issue here. What’s best in the long run for all of you?” He motioned to her, the horse, and life in general.

“Look, if you don’t want me to do it, call a farrier.” At the slight tightening around his eyes she realized she’d sounded pushed. “Or I’ll call one.”

“You know one?” His eyes narrowed.

“Guess we could use the same man that Carly uses at Rescue Ranch.”

“I’ll call him tomorrow.” He sounded like an executive giving orders.

“Suit yourself.” She turned on her heel and headed for the tack room. Didn’t he even trust her to call a farrier? Once the horse was fed, she could return to the sanctuary of her little house on wheels. Why did the discussion leave a bad taste in her mouth? After all, the horse did belong to him, or rather Eddie. But Gil paid the bills. So what if he was rich as Croesus, she’d only offered because—she thought for a moment—just because. Why did he have to mar a wonderful afternoon by being snappy? Was every discussion of caring for the horse going to turn into an argument?

TWENTY-THREE

Y
ou’d think they’d been friends for years,” Gil muttered. Bonnie gazed up at him, her ears on alert, eyes seeking understanding. He watched from a distance as Eddie chattered away and Maggie nodded in some spots and listened intently in others. While he wanted his son to relate well to adults, actually to everyone, he was a bit surprised at Eddie’s reaction to her. Maggie did not seem that open and friendly to him.

He watched the carpenters put the finishing touches on the mounting block and ramp so Eddie could be more independent down here too. One of these days the boy’s arms would be strong enough for him to swing his body from the chair into the saddle. Gil had seen a man do that over at Rescue Ranch. Several wounded war veterans rode there, one without the use of his legs.

Spending so much of his time like this was getting to be a pain. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy watching Eddie’s enjoyment, but he needed this time to get his own work done. All he had to do was renounce his edict that Eddie could not be alone with Maggie. It had made perfect sense a week ago when Maggie came. He moved to the plastic chair in front of the barn and tipped his face up to get the full rays of the sun, since it no longer had the heat of summer. While he couldn’t hear everything, he still felt like a Peeping, or in this case, eavesdropping, Tom.

“So where are your mother and father?” Eddie asked.

“They died several years ago. First my father with a heart attack and then Mom from cancer.” Maggie was more than grateful that they hadn’t been around for the accident and its repercussions.

“So you don’t have anybody?”

“Well, not exactly. I have a brother somewhere.”

“My mother died too, when I was really little. She got real sick, you know. But I think she is in heaven and watching out for me.”

Gil sat upright. Where had Eddie gotten that idea? Ben’s admonitions came back to him. “You have to tell Eddie about his mother.” Yeah, well, it sounded like it was way past time. He should have done so years ago. But how do you tell a little boy that his mother couldn’t handle her baby’s diagnosis and split? That she accepted monthly payments in lieu of living with and loving her son? Gil felt like banging his head against the barn wall. Bonnie laid her chin on his knee and stared at him. At least he could make the dog happy. He rubbed her ears and around the bump on the rear of her skull. Her eyelids drifted down, and she fell over on her side, the universal invitation to a belly rub. Leaning over to comply, he tried to decide when he and Eddie would have this talk that was likely to blow their relationship into tiny bits that scattered all over their twenty acres.

That night after dinner he invited Eddie to walk with him.

“Sure, Dad. Right now?” At his father’s nod, Eddie headed for the front door. “Can Bonnie come?”

“I guess.” Gil waited while Eddie put the leash on his dog and received a slurpy nose kiss for the effort.

Was walking best or sitting in the office? Gil followed his son out the door. Dusk had tiptoed in while they had been eating. This would have to be quick. He caught up with his son’s wheelchair, and they headed down the driveway to the sidewalk.

“Eddie, you never ask about your mother, how come?”

Eddie grimaced, screwing his mouth from one side to the other. “You don’t like me to.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to change that right now.” Inhaling a deep breath, he continued. “Your mother is alive. Her name is Sandra. When she was young, she was very beautiful.”

“I thought she was dead since you never talked about her.” He peered up at his father. “Isn’t she beautiful now?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“How come?”

“That’s neither here nor there.”
Be honest
, again Ben’s words. How come he could teach people about being honest and up front with others and with themselves and yet fail so miserably right here and now? “We had some very serious disagreements.”

“So you got a divorce?”

“Yes.”

“So she got divorced from me too?”

“Something like that.”

“Jenny’s mom and dad got a divorce, and she lives part-time with her mom and part-time with her dad.”

“I know, lots of families do it that way nowadays, but ten, eleven years ago that wasn’t so much the process.”

“Can I see her?”

The question he’d been dreading and yet knew would come. “I don’t know, sport. Wouldn’t it be better to leave it as is? I mean you are growing up just fine and . . .”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

Gil squatted by Eddie’s chair and took hold of his son’s hand. If he were a praying man, now would be a good time for it. But since he wasn’t, he cleared his throat and said softly, “Yes, she does.”

Eddie studied his father, thoughts and feelings flitting across his face like clouds before a capricious wind. “But you don’t want me to see her?” He narrowed his eyes and withdrew his hand. “That’s why you haven’t told me before.” He spun his wheelchair, jerking Bonnie and making her yip.

“Eddie, son, I only want what’s best for you.”
I don’t want you to be wounded by a woman who can think of no one but herself
. Her soft voice came back to him. “Can’t you believe that I have changed?” No, he couldn’t.

“You don’t want what’s best for me; you want what’s best for you.” Eddie’s shout came back over his shoulder as he wheeled furiously for home.