A Love Like Ours (10 page)

Jayden pushed to his feet, clearly bored out of his skull by the adult conversation. “Mom?” he broke in. “Is it time to go?”

“Don’t interrupt me, Jayden,” she said patiently. “If you have something to say put your arm here”—she laid his hand on her forearm—“and I’ll know you want to tell me something.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So anyway,” she said to Will, “I—”

“I want to tell you that
I’m ready to go
,” Jayden said urgently.

“—I really enjoy working at the doctor’s office,” Amber continued as she stood and pushed in her chair. “Maybe one day soon I’ll be able to afford a deck.”

Will stood, too.

“I have to head out so that I can get Jayden to daycare and make it to work on time.”

“Sure.”

Jayden began to tug on Amber’s forearm.

“It was nice meeting you, Will.”

“Likewise.”

“Have a good day.” She tossed their trash before Jayden pulled her through the door and they disappeared.

Will stood there, staring at the place where she’d been. He regretted his grumpy reaction when he’d first realized that he needed to make conversation with her. He’d forgotten how nice it could be to visit with someone, without any goal to it other than that—to visit. Maybe he wasn’t totally lousy at small talk, after all. Or maybe Amber was just really good at it.

The guys at the station teased him about his sorry dating life, with good reason. He pulled his keys free as he made his way outdoors to his aging Chevy Tahoe.

Since Michelle left, it had pretty much taken all he had in the way of time, attention, and money to raise his girls. Whenever he’d made an effort to go out with someone, he’d been aware the whole time of how dull he was. He was a father whose faith was important to him. He didn’t want to party, go to clubs, get drunk, or sleep with people just for the heck of it. The non-Christian women he’d taken out had wanted at least one of those things; the Christian ones had wanted to marry him immediately, which had scared him twice as much.

He was rusty at relationships. Even so, if Amber had been older and unmarried, he’d have been tempted to ask her out.

He rubbed the side of his forehead, trying to understand what had just happened to him. He’d come to Cream or Sugar for coffee. But those blue eyes and that smile of Amber’s had dazed him a little, had made him think about things—like dating—that he hadn’t thought about in years.

“Will’s handsome, Lyndie. He has dark blond hair and gray-blue eyes, the kind that tip down at the outside corners. You know? Bedroom eyes?”

“I sincerely like bedroom eyes,” Lyndie put forward.

“Me too. Will’s eyes make him look a little bit sad or vulnerable or something.”

Amber had texted Lyndie earlier in the day, requesting a coffee meeting, despite that it was Monday and their usually scheduled coffee meetings occurred on Wednesdays. Lovely warm breezes stirred the late afternoon air, so they’d taken Amber’s kitchen chairs onto the small flagstone back patio of the Old Candy Shoppe. Jayden had his buddy Bryce over for a playdate. The two were sprawled on their stomachs in front of the hero house, playing with plastic army men.

“I’m guessing that Will’s age didn’t bother you?” Lyndie asked.

“No. I mean, if he’s forty, he’s like Ewan McGregor at forty.” Amber went on to compliment Will’s manners, his fitness, his height, and his professions of fire department captain and deck builder.

Lyndie sipped from her mug. The whipped cream registered first, followed by a decadent slide of hot, milky coffee flavored with chocolate.

A tiny dollop of cream stuck to the corner of Amber’s lip when she lowered her own mug.

“You have a little whipped cream . . .” Lyndie indicated the spot.

Amber used one of the leftover Valentine’s Day napkins she’d brought out to wipe away the cream. “Thank you. We’ve officially become good friends, Lyndie, if you’re willing to tell me I have food on my face.”

“Officially. You can count on me to be extra quick about telling you should you ever have food on your face in front of Will.”

“I’m not sure if I’ll see him again.” Amber sighed. “I’m cautiously interested, but I’m not sure if he feels the same. And even if he does, I don’t know when we’ll cross paths.”

“Well, let’s think about this practically.” Lyndie watched Empress Felicity and Gentleman Tobias plop onto the grass next to Jayden and his friend. The dogs’ mouths hung open in identical doggie grins. “First things first: Does Will know that you’re single? Before this can go anywhere, he’ll need to know that about you.”

“I don’t wear a wedding ring.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean you’re single. Plus, you had Jayden with you.”

“Which makes me look like a married mom.”

“Right.”

“But”—Amber shifted to face Lyndie more fully, her shiny dark hair swishing around her shoulders—“I
think
I was giving off available signals. I can’t be sure. It’s been a long time since I’ve put myself out there. I may have lost my touch.”

“I don’t think you’ve lost your touch. But let me just say that men don’t always respond to subtle signals. My mom will stand in front of the TV sometimes with her hands on her hips and my dad and grandfather will go right on watching their show as if she wasn’t even there.”

A muted
oof
came from the backyard. Then a few grunts.

Amber and Lyndie looked to the boys, who’d kicked off an impromptu wrestling session. “Is that . . . okay?” Lyndie asked.

Amber waved a hand. “It’s fine. Jayden and Bryce spend half their playdates wrestling. So. What do you think my next step should be?”

The situation seemed upside-down. The person clearly more skilled at dating was asking the novice for advice on men. Lyndie did not have good credentials in this area. The man she was attracted to seemed eager to shove her into the arms of another employer. “Could you ask Celia to mention to Will that you’re single? I bet she could drop it into conversation without being obvious.”

“I bet she could.”

“And I’m sure she’d be happy to continue sending you texts when he visits Cream or Sugar. If you show up at the bakery again when he’s there, it will seem to him like a coincidence.”

“True.”

“What about inviting him over to give you an estimate on a deck?”

“I don’t have the funds for a deck, but I suppose I could tell him that the deck is in my long-term plan and keep to myself the
fact that my long-term plan is to marry him.” Amber shot Lyndie a glance full of humor.

“I have no idea why I’m helping you. I’ll be very sad if you go on all three of your dates with this fireman while I’m stuck having to eat dinner with guys that are into anime or World of Warcraft and haven’t seen sunlight in months.”

Amber laughed. “Remember that we’re going to the Christian singles meet-up at Fellowship Church Saturday night. You have it on your calendar, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“That’ll count as one date for each of us.”

Maybe Amber would forget about the meet-up or lose enthusiasm for it between now and Saturday. Saturday was five days away. Amber might still forget. It really was possible Amber would lose enthusiasm.

But even as Lyndie told herself these feeble lies, weight settled upon her. There would be no escaping the meet-up. She’d given up all chance of that the moment she’d caved at the promise of dog-sitting and vowed to attempt three dates in three months. There would be no escape.

Across town, Jake and Bo were meeting, as they often did, in the warm room of the yearling barn to discuss their horses. “So.” Bo leaned back slightly in his chair. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about Silver Leaf? Are you going to give Lyndie’s theory a try?”

At the mention of Lyndie’s name, Jake’s senses rushed to life. For pity’s sake. Could he have a conversation with his brother without having Lyndie pushed to the center of his thoughts? He’d like to go five minutes,
just five minutes
, without thinking about her. “First of all, I think she’s probably wrong.” A horse ran for the person sitting on his back, male or female. They didn’t discriminate by gender.

“You said ‘probably wrong.’”

Jake tightened one edge of his lips. “There’s a chance she’s right.”

“You’re going to test her theory.”

“I’m leaning that way. It won’t cost me anything extra, just the time it’ll take to get Blackberry ready as a lead pony.”

Bo nodded.

“You approve,” Jake stated, because he could tell that Bo did.

“A last-ditch effort is all we have left with Silver Leaf. We have nothing to lose by trying out Lyndie’s ideas.”

The sound of nickering drew Jake’s attention to the window. Outdoors, a yearling ran along the paddock rail, throwing his head.

He’d told Lyndie . . . he’d tried to tell her. No one could help Silver Leaf, just like no one could help him. She’d said,
“I think that I can
.
”
She’d looked at him, calm and confident.
“I hope that
I can
.
”

Hope.

Jake’s hope had been stripped from him long ago. He’d forgotten what it felt like to hope. It felt lousy, to be honest. It felt like disappointment waiting to happen.

He hadn’t given Lyndie permission to make him hope that she could make his Silver Leaf run. And yet she’d managed to blow onto the ashes of his hope and coax one tiny red ember to life.

T
he next day Silver Leaf arrived at Lone Star Park like P. Diddy might arrive at a night club. That is to say, in luxury and surrounded by an all-female entourage.

Lyndie stood outside the barn that Whispering Creek Horses had rented on Lone Star’s back stretch. Holding up a hand to shade her eyes, she watched Silver’s trailer pull to a stop. She still couldn’t fully believe that Jake had decided to support her Casanova philosophy.

When Jake had informed her that he’d chosen to move forward with her ideas about Silver, he’d done so in a very no-nonsense way. He hadn’t become her accomplice. Rather, he’d opted to tolerate her plans while continuing to treat Silver Leaf in the manner in which he treated all of his horses, with care and strikingly keen observation.

Zoe jumped down from the cab of the truck and came around to begin the process of unloading. “Have you seen any tall men since you’ve been here at the track?” Zoe asked, slanting hopeful looks in both directions.

“Not yet.”

“Well, bummer.” Zoe led Blackberry down the trailer’s ramp, handed her lead to Lyndie, then headed back into the trailer. “The trip over was . . .”

Bumpy? Lyndie wondered. Well air-conditioned? Enchanted by a sorcerer’s spell?

Zoe reemerged with Silver. “Look at this, perfect boy. We’re here. And you did so well on the ride over. Aren’t you a star? Yes, you are. You’re a star.” Then, to Lyndie, as they started toward the barn with the horses, “Isn’t this great? A new place. Races coming up soon. The possibility of meeting tall men.”

They guided the horses past a motorized walking ring into the quiet calm of the barn. Lone Star Park nestled in Grand Prairie, a suburb located between Dallas and Fort Worth. It boasted a mile-long racetrack and a collection of backstretch barns that could house up to a thousand horses.

Less cushy than their barn at Whispering Creek, the barn at Lone Star had been painted green on the outside, use-scarred ivory on the inside. Loamy dirt blanketed the shed row.

For the duration of the three-month-long season, Zoe, two other grooms, all Jake’s exercise riders, their barn foreman, their night man, and two hand-walkers had relocated here. Some of those employees had decided to rent nearby rooms made available by the track. Others, like Lyndie and Zoe, had opted to commute forty-five minutes each way from Holley.

“Right in here, Silver.” Zoe flicked the Post-it Note that had been stuck to the front of Silver’s stall, then led him in. “Isn’t this nice? Look, Lyndie brought down your own hay, and it’s waiting right here. You have fresh bedding and your very own water pail from home.”

Lyndie and Zoe settled both horses into their side-by-side stalls, then hand-fed them apple slices as a housewarming gift.

At the sound of a muted conversation, Lyndie swung her gaze to the far end of the barn. Jake came around the corner, flanked by his foreman and a groom. He stood half a head taller than the other men, who were listening attentively as he spoke. He’d turned up the collar of his hunting jacket, and from what she could see beneath his hat, it didn’t appear that he’d shaved this morning. His five o’clock shadow lent him an even more disreputable pirate air than usual.

If you liked that sort of thing.

Jake’s attention fixed on Lyndie. He continued forward without acknowledging her in any way other than his eye contact. Even so, her body responded with another of those wonderful hot pangs deep in her midsection.

She glanced back in Silver’s direction.
He doesn’t like you, Lyndie. Enough with the physical reactions to him
. He’d be happier if you were working in another
trainer’s barn
.

When Jake reached them, he asked his two companions to continue to the barn’s office and wait for him there.

“Hello, Mr. Porter,” Zoe said.

“Zoe. Everything go smoothly on the drive over?”

“Sure did.”

He took his time observing Lyndie and Zoe with their apple slices and Silver Leaf, surrounded by his horse luxuries. She knew he thought her far-fetched for treating his five-year-old stallion who’d yet to win a single race as if he were a multimillion-dollar Breeders’ Cup champion.

Jake braced a hand on the entrance to Silver’s stall. “How are you finding the customer service so far?” he asked Silver Leaf, irony tinting his voice.

Lyndie chuckled. “The customer service agrees with him.”

Zoe’s eyes rounded as if she couldn’t believe she’d just heard Jake say something mildly humorous.

“Show these ladies that you like me, Silver Leaf. This one here”—Jake tilted his head in Lyndie’s direction—“thinks you’re only being polite.”

Silver nibbled on a few strands of hay.

“Huh,” Lyndie said. “Not very convincing.”

Jake gave her a look both challenging and condescending. “Neither is your theory.” Then he pushed away from the stall and continued in the direction of the barn office.

“You told Mr. Porter that Silver Leaf doesn’t like him?” Zoe whispered.

“Yep.”

“Why
?”

“Because I think it’s true.”

“Oh my gosh! What’ll be next? Flying pigs?”

“No. But we just might see a dapple grey stallion run. If we’re very, very lucky.”

“I’m praying over it.” Zoe stroked Silver’s neck. “Hear that? I’m praying over it.” Two more pats, then, “I need to go check on my other horses. What’re you up to?”

“I’m going to stay here with him for a bit.”

“Catch ya later.”

Lyndie lowered into her usual seated position against the inner side wall of Silver’s stall. New barn. Same position. For long minutes she observed the horse and accustomed herself to the sounds of Lone Star Park.

Blackberry and Silver whinnied back and forth to each other a few times. Once, Silver stuck his head out of his doorway and reached toward Blackberry. The female horse responded by stretching toward Silver. Their noses touched briefly in their customary sign of affection.

Lyndie saw no outward signs of agitation in Silver Leaf. But, of course, that was part of the difficulty. He hid his displeasure.

When she readied to leave, she rose quietly. Silver Leaf studied her. She stared back at him, trying to communicate her affection and acceptance of him without motion or words.

After a time, he nudged his face into her hair, cataloguing her scent. Then he rested his head where her neck met her shoulder, just as she’d seen him do with Zoe, and gave a sigh.

Lyndie’s heart soared. Silver was letting her know that he liked and accepted her, too. She’d finally gained his trust! Moisture gathered on her lashes, warbling her vision.

All her life, Lyndie had harbored a deep love of animals. They were God’s creatures, innocent, full of loyalty. Many poured out their lives in service to their owners. Whether or not Silver ever won a race, he had intrinsic value, just like every other horse in this barn. Just like her pets at home. How lucky was she that she got to do this job? “I’ll do my best for you,” she promised.

Jake’s training regimen had made Silver Leaf into an athlete built to sprint with breathtaking speed. She could see the evidence of Silver’s conditioning in his physique. What she didn’t know: whether the horse would decide to put his potential into practice.

“Will you do your best for me?”

Silver Leaf would answer Lyndie’s question three days later.

Aware that his horse needed time to adjust to his new environment, Jake had Lyndie take Silver through easy workouts the first two mornings after arriving at Lone Star. On the third morning, a Friday, less than two weeks before Silver Leaf was scheduled to race, the moment of truth arrived.

Jake wanted to see him run.

Nervousness squeezed long fingers around Lyndie’s chest as she sat aboard Silver near the outer rail of Lone Star’s track. She’d already warmed up the horse. No time remained to stall or pray. Today’s events would either render her theories about Silver valid or debunk them completely.

She ran her hand along the reins, feeling the nub of the leather. Dawn had recently crescendoed over the horizon, christening the horses and exercise riders on the track with rosy light. The clouds this morning, high and distant, looked like the clouds in a kid’s drawing, flat at the bottom and puffing into gentle mounds on top.

Jake approached, two mounted riders in his wake.

“I want to give Silver Leaf a hard work in company,” Jake told the three of them, Lyndie included. The other two riders, both male, sat astride the best three-year-olds Jake had.

He’d already informed her of his plans privately. He hoped to spur Silver’s competitive juices by giving him challenging competition. If, by chance, the situation did motivate Silver to run, the other horses would then serve as a measuring stick. They’d let Jake know whether Silver possessed any real speed.

“Build them to a gallop,” Jake instructed, “then open it up around the far corner and go for a half mile.” His gaze flicked to Lyndie’s.

She gave a nod, trying to look more confident than she felt. Suddenly this whole idea of hers seemed a little harebrained and unfounded, even to her. Like Jake, she’d never actually heard of any other horse that had a Casanova complex.

“Good?” he asked her. Beneath his hat, unflinching seriousness shone in his eyes. Brackets marked either side of his mouth.

“Good.” She was doing this. This was happening. Wrenching away her attention, Lyndie turned Silver, and the trio of riders set off. Carefully, safely, they increased their speed.

This is your last chance at this, Silver. Okay? You’re fit and ready. If you’re going to be great, you have to show him now. I believe that you’re great. Now you have to believe it. You have to have the heart of a champion.

It’s important. For Jake, it’s important—

That was too much. Unfair. She couldn’t tie all her hopes for Jake’s welfare to this horse who had no connection to Iraq and the Marines and PTSD. Silver had had nothing to do with the scar that marked Jake’s face and the worse scars that ran through his psyche.

As they started into the turn, the other riders began to let their horses’ speed unfurl. Lyndie gave Silver the freedom to do the same. She rode in the classic jockey’s body line; her boots resting in their high stirrups, her knees bent so that her lower legs and upper legs formed a ninety-degree angle.

The other two horses started to pull away. Silver tracked them with his gaze, his ears flicking forward and backward. She gently nudged her heels into his sides, encouraging him. “Run,” she whispered.

He merely galloped. The other horses lengthened their lead. One of the riders shot a glance over his shoulder at her.

Lyndie’s spirits sank. “Silver Leaf, come on. Run!”

His pace remained the same. She’d been wrong. Her wild idea hadn’t panned out. This horse was exactly what his past had proven him to be.

And yet, her stubborn streak refused to give up. She could
feel
the ability in him. He could run like the wind, her intuition was
positive of it. “Please,” she urged. Leaning into him, she did her best to propel him forward with the force of her will.
“Run!”

And suddenly . . .

He answered.

Silver’s legs stretched out in longer and longer strides, his hooves biting into the dirt in a quickening cadence as he began to devour the ground. He was coordination personified, astonishingly smooth and fluid.

“Yes!” Lyndie moved her hands in tandem with his rhythm so that he could sprint faster. They melded into a seamless unit, fully in sync.

They closed in on the other two Thoroughbreds. The track zipped toward them and flew beneath. Silver shifted into yet another gear, moving even faster in an effort to catch and best the other two. He had heart. She’d known it! He had
heart.

His raw power sent chills coursing over Lyndie’s skin. She’d ridden a lot of fast horses, but this kind of pace was as rare as diamonds. What’s more, she could sense that he had additional strength in reserve. If she asked him to give more, he’d be able.

They came even with the other two, filling the wide opening between them. Silver would have surged ahead, except that they’d reached a half of a mile and all three riders eased their horses’ speed.

They flashed by Jake at a gallop. He was standing upright, as if he’d pushed away from leaning against the rail when Silver Leaf had begun to make his move. His hands hung at his sides, one clutching a stopwatch. Unguarded surprise stamped his expression.

Lyndie laughed with pure joy.
Silver Leaf!
Silver Leaf had just run for her as he’d never run for anyone. She was female, and she’d earned his trust—so when she’d asked him, he’d run. And what a run! As they slowed, she whooped and tilted her face upward to heaven, where all good gifts originated.
Thank you, God!
Exhilaration surged through her limbs.

She cooled Silver, then steered him to Jake. Now that he’d had time to recover, Jake had regained his usual tight control over
himself. Except that a slight curve—almost a smile?—lifted one side of his lips.