The Girl in the Window (18 page)

The breeze lifted Beth’s hair, nearly the same color as the wheat in Jack Baylor’s field across the way. The sunlight caught it. It shimmered silver in the same way it did on the wheat.

Beth stepped past him and he caught a sudden whiff of her scent, or the scent of her shampoo, her skin, and his whole body tightened.

Fair had stopped pacing, fretting, and had gone to stand at the far end of the paddock. His ears twitched. So did his hide, as if unseen flies tormented him. His dark eyes still showed too much white.

Josh almost pulled her back then, pain shooting through his chest at the thought of giving up on the horse, but unwilling to risk her. He knew the others were in the barn, waiting in case they needed them, but even so…

Then she was past him, moving deeper.

A step, then two…another, slowly, until she was a few feet inside the paddock and then she stopped.

She held out the sheaf of grass on the palm of her hand.

Fair eyed it, eyed her, first with one eye, then the other.

Josh knew the horse was aware of him standing there, too.

There was a long moment when nothing seemed to move but the breeze and the birds in the sky and then Fair took a step…and then another, tentatively, gingerly, as if testing his way. Until he reached Beth. Bending his head, the horse snuffed at her hair, then blew out a breath, almost a sigh, and let his big head drape over her shoulder.

Letting the sheaf of grass fall, Beth reach up to stroke the horse’s cheek, his long neck.

“Josh,” she said, softly.

The horse started a little when Josh opened the gate and shifted his feet, but Beth kept stroking.

Fair didn’t move.

In wonder, Josh laid a hand on the horse’s neck.

Fair blew out another breath and settled almost wearily.

Beth looked at the horse, then at Josh.

For a moment their eyes met over the horse’s head ducked between them, then she unbuckled the halter and Josh lifted it over Fair’s head.

There were abrasions where the leather had rubbed when the boy had caught it and Josh’s mouth tightened to see them. They’d have to put some balm on them. He let out a sigh of his own, stroking Fair’s neck, patting him.

Once again he looked at Beth. Her lips were curved in a gentle smile.

It would be all right. Maybe it would be all right.

Beth looked out into the common room through the window from the kitchen and smiled. Even with the cast on, Wolf charged everywhere happily in his own private three-legged race, eager to get every pat he could, to chase down every smell. He still looked funny with his fur starting to grow back over his ribs, but he was back to his usual happy self. The cast would be coming off soon, thankfully.

The guests adored him. If he kept growing at the rate he was she wondered if they still would when he reached his full size. She laughed to herself, remembering her idea of using him as a walker. He’d never hold still long enough.

She glanced at her other visitor and smothered a smile.

Tyler, too, although he’d have hated to admit it, was having a good time.

He’d been dubious the first day she’d brought him. She couldn’t have him in the kitchen with her and the rest of her staff, not at his age, but she could put him to work in other ways. First she’d had him set the tables, helping to serve the food, then bussing the tables and washing the dishes afterward.

Until lunch though, she’d set him down next to Carter Wainwright, ninety years old and still pretty clear in his mind.

It was the mid-June and school had just ended. Tyler’s grades hadn’t been so great, especially in history.

Carter had survived two wars, four children of his own, something like sixteen or seventeen grandchildren, and a dozen or so great-grandchildren, now all scattered to the four winds. One of his sons had followed in his father’s footsteps. Marshall Wainwright was a Colonel, and several of his grandchildren and great grandchildren had followed him as well. Two of Carter’s great-grandchildren had shown up to visit him in their new uniforms, all spit-polished and shined. Carter’s pride in them had practically glowed from his seamed face.

“Tyler here is having a problem with history in school,” she’d said to Mr. Wainwright with a smile. “Next year he’s studying the twentieth century. Think you can help him with that?”

With a grin, white teeth against dark skin, Carter said, “I think I might.”

Beth had looked at Tyler. “Mr. Wainwright lived the history you’ll be studying next year.”

The old man was a great storyteller. He’d lived through the wars and the strife, the civil rights movement, the assassinations, and seen his share of both troubles and joy.

The other guests all fawned over Tyler, praising him, patting him on the back, eager to hear how he’d done in school that day, telling him stories. They even ordered movies to watch with him in mind. Every A got him applause, every B a hug, and they commiserated over the rest.

For most of them he was the youngest person they saw regularly, more regularly than their own families.

Mr. Wisniewski, an engineer, had sat down with him to explain algebra in a way that made sense.

Tyler blossomed under the attention.

Ruth would have been proud.

Beth glanced around the gleaming stainless steel kitchen with satisfaction, her few helpers busily at work prepping for dinner.

Ruth would have been proud of this, too.

And Matt.

This had been their dream. Or at least the first step of it.

They’d wanted to learn the ins and outs of feeding large numbers of people, find ways to do it economically, and adjust the menus to keep them fresh and new. This would have been their final exam of sorts, to see if they could really do it, a chance to establish themselves and to earn some money, in the hopes of opening that bed and breakfast someday.

That dream was gone. A new one was taking shape. She didn’t know how that one would turn out.

This remained, though, this place, these people she was coming to know and some like Carter Wainwright that she was getting to know well.

Her mind wandered once more to Josh, as it did a lot lately, to that kiss they’d shared by the paddock. If there hadn’t been so many people watching…

Then there had been the night the boys came.

In an instant, in a rush, she remembered the feel of Josh’s smooth skin beneath her hands, what his lean body had felt like against hers, and the strength in it, in his arms.

At night, in the moments before sleep, he haunted her.

The memory of him charging in front of her to put himself between her and the boys… No one had done that for her before.

She’d known they’d meant to hurt her, all alone against them. But she couldn’t leave Fair and Wolf.

Then suddenly, she hadn’t been alone. Instead there was Josh, standing between her and them, strong and determined.

She hadn’t been alone in the dark any more.

At that moment she’d known he would be there for her, he would come for her, come hell or high water he would fight for her, stand against the world for her.

She didn’t have to be alone any more.

The choice was hers.

It terrified her.

Deliberately, she forced her mind away from that thought.

Things had changed rather drastically.

Under the judge’s orders the rest of the boys had appeared at the farm the next day, but none of them had been allowed to get even remotely close to Fair or the other horses. The rest were stabled at the Fairgrounds. With luck Fair would join them soon.

Instead the boys spent their time around the fields and the barns, working. And working hard. Beth smiled at the memory. It had been a shock for all of them.

No one cut the boys any slack, but they weren’t cruel either, asking only that the boys work as hard as anyone else did. After all, Will and Tony were only a few years older, and both had worked since they were nearly as young as Tyler.

For all of them their first paycheck had been a revelation, both for what they kept and for what was taken out of it. Josh knew the value of incentive, and so he let them keep some of what they’d earned. It was an abject lesson in the cost of their bad behavior.

The ringleader, a boy named Jeff, had wilted visibly but defiantly in the face of Russ’s disdain. After several incidents of goofing off or urging the other boys to behave badly, and an attempt at bullying Tyler, they’d all agreed he needed to be sent back to the judge. His father, the manager of one of stores out by the interstate, had also complained about the way his son was being treated.

Some people you just couldn’t fix, especially when the people who needed to see that most clearly wouldn’t.

Everyone had been grateful once Jeff had been gone.

The other two boys had perked up considerably.

With them doing some of the chores and Tony to supervise them, Will was free to help Russ with the other horses at the Fairgrounds, particularly the two other trotters Josh was training to race besides Fair, including patient Bella.

Challenged by Fair’s presence, Bella was surprising everyone.

It had astonished all of them, even Will, when Russ had asked specifically for Will’s help.

Beth smiled, remembering Josh’s expression at the request as she prepped for dinner.

She was giving the guests Tex-Mex, chili, refried beans, tacos and fajitas, or as close as some of these folks would know, to give the guests some choice in what they ate. They had so few. It was the best she could do and meet the menu requirements. She chopped some vegetables and sautéed others, so the air was filled with the scent of sharp spices and chili peppers, knowing the smells would waft out to the common room. It would be a fun and messy meal, with folks having the choice of building their own or having one of the staff do it for them. Wolf was there as vacuum cleaner to lap up what was spilled.

All in all, she was happy, truly happy, for the first time in what seemed a very long time.

She dropped Tyler off on her way home, watching the dark clouds that loomed on the horizon.

It was thunderstorm season.

As she pulled into the driveway she saw Fair standing huddled beneath the overhang of the barn.

That had been the one habit of Fair’s they couldn’t seem to break. He would not go into the barn under any circumstances, throwing up his head and fighting them every time they tried, the whites of his eyes showing.

She turned on the weather station.

There was a chance of strong thunderstorms, even hail. Severe thunderstorms were posted and, not surprisingly for the time of year, tornado warnings.

One thing was certain; they could use the rain, if only to cool things off a little.

Walking into the house she set Wolf down. He raced off to the kitchen and his waiting dinner on three legs. Given how much he’d eaten just a short while before she thought it was amazing that he could find room for more, but he was a growing dog.

Smiling, she stripped off her whites as she walked up the stairs until she was dressed in only her white slacks and a thin t-shirt. Glancing out the window at the gathering clouds she chewed on her lip, thinking of Fair as she shucked out of the rest of her clothes. She went to the window and looked out, debating a quick shower first.

Not with those black clouds on the horizon and the old copper pipe that still ran through the house.

With a sigh of resignation she pulled on an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts and ran down the stairs to peer out the window of her old bedroom.

It was astonishingly dark considering that sunset was a couple hours off.

The wind had whipped up and now tossed the tops of the trees wildly.

Fair huddled beneath the shelter of the eaves of the barn, his tail turned toward the wind, his head lowered in resignation.

Stupid horse
.

The storm frightened her but she couldn’t leave him out there. Not again. Not as bad as it was blowing.