The Impossible Art of Falling (Impossible Art #1) (3 page)

They turned onto a dirt driveway underneath a fading wooden sign that said “R. Grayson Ranch, Quarter Horses and Trail Rides.” Rob reminded himself that it needed a new paint job soon. Perhaps he would have Luke or Kyle work on that some afternoon when things began to slow down. The driveway wound between two mountains and ended in an open cove. Dark fencing edged lush green pastures dotted with horses. Four brown buildings stood in the landscape. Jena knew that the big barn was the main barn for the riding horses. The other buildings were for breeding and hay storage.

"We're here. Welcome." Rob pulled the truck to a stop in front of the barn and looked over at her. He patted her knee paternally. Jena smiled meekly at her uncle and again, he missed the big eyed innocence of his niece. Her eyes were too sad now, and her smiles felt contrived. They pulled up to the main barn, which was closest to the farmhouse. Meg was waiting on the porch, wiping her hands on her apron before pulling it off. She was at Jena’s door before Rob even got the truck turned off.

“Oh Jenny,” she said, using her childhood nickname for her niece as she climbed out of the car. Meg pulled her into an embrace. Jena could feel the warmth and love in that embrace and had to choke back tears. Her aunt had always had that effect on her. Instead, she turned her head and saw a boy staring at her from the open doors of the barn. Their eyes met, and his gaze was startling. As if he could see right into her. Jena shivered and turned away. She mustered her strength and focused back on her aunt’s warm welcome.

“Hi,” she mouthed meekly, unable to help but hug her aunt back.

“Oh honey, we are so glad that you are here. I hope you will consider this your home…” Meg’s voice trailed off, afraid that she had said too much. “Here, let me show you to your room. The boys will unload the horses and maybe one of them will bring your things in.”

She wrapped her arm around Jena’s shoulders and steered her through the front door. It had been a few years since Jena had been in the house. Occasionally, she had found herself visiting for a week or two when her parents were overseas or during the summer, just for fun. As she got older, she began to travel with them more and more, and her visits to Townsend became less and less. Still, she couldn’t help but feel the warm welcome of the big farmhouse that was now going to be her home.

“I hope you don’t mind being alone upstairs. We actually thought that you might like the privacy. There are two other rooms up there, but your uncle and I are in the master bedroom on the first floor. If you want, you could actually use one of the other rooms as a sitting room or a study if you decide to take classes. We could even put a TV in there for you, if you like.” Meg realized that she was rambling and stopped abruptly.

The old farmhouse was big, considering it was just the two of them. Rob and Meg had hoped for children at one time, but after ten years of marriage and several miscarriages, it became evident that there would be no pitter patter of little feet on the aged hardwood floors. Instead, they put all of their energy into building up the farm and breeding horses.

Meg swept her arm out in front of the first door on the right. “Here is your room. There is a bathroom right across the hall. Of course, you are the only one using it, so we can decorate it anyway you like. I thought maybe we could go shopping for some new towels and such.”

When Jena just stood in the doorway, Meg moved through the bedroom and opened the curtain, brushing the imaginary dust off of the bureau with the wadded up apron she still held in her hand. Meg turned to face her, and Jena smiled.

“Thanks.”

Another one word answer. Meg had been warned that Jena rarely talked, and when she did, it was in one or two word whispers. She would never grow used to her niece’s silence. Where had the bubbly little girl gone? The one who was so full of life and was never at a loss for words? 

“I’ll have Uncle Rob bring up your things later, once the horses are taken care of. Until then, I’ll just let you settle in.” Jena closed her eyes when Meg’s lips brushed against her cheek.  When she opened them again, she found herself alone.

Her eyes scanned the room and took in the place that she would now call home. The room was simple enough. Pale lavender walls surrounded her and a full size bed with a speckled metal frame sat in the corner; the mattress on it was still bare. The night stand held a lamp and an empty silver picture frame. Faded linens and aged towels were stacked on the bureau, which was against the far wall. A small desk and chair rounded out the room. The room itself was smaller than what she was used to, but she didn’t mind. She wanted to feel as far away from her former home as she possibly could. At the thought of home, her vision blurred, and she stood motionless, trying to swallow the emotion. It was the view out the windows that pulled her out of her trance. Two huge windows, nearly floor to ceiling, stood at the front of the room. They overlooked the pasture and barn, complete with a sweeping view of the mountains off in the distance. The late afternoon sun was shining in the sky and enveloped the trees in a soft light. It was beautiful. The windows were open and a soft breeze lifted the sheers in a ghostlike wave.

The whinny of a mare drew her vision down to the trailer that was still in the driveway. Rob was there unloading horses. The boy she had seen earlier, stepped out from behind the trailer, his brownish hair flopping in front of his eyes and curling away from his ears. She supposed she should call him a man, as she couldn’t be sure, but he seemed to be around her age. A baseball cap was curled up in his back pocket. He raised a gloved hand to wipe his brow, and Rob handed him the lead rope of the last horse, a grey mare speckled with age. Bunny. She had been one of her father’s favorite broodmares. They spoke briefly before the man took the horse and disappeared into the barn. Jena stood watching at the window, when Rob turned toward her with a wave. She raised her fingers slightly in response and turned away. Her breath caught in her throat, and she had to bite her lip again to fight the tears. It was all so overwhelming right now, she reminded herself. She simply needed some time to adjust.

"You know you can go out there, if you want. This is your home, and those are just as much your horses as they are ours. And don’t forget about Gatsby. Uncle Rob is putting him in a corner stall with his own turnout. You can see his paddock from your window." The voice startled her, and Jena spun around to see Meg standing in the doorway, arms crossed, looking thoughtfully at her niece. "I know that your uncle brought your tack over for you to use as well. We can also get you set up with a Western saddle. It might be a little more comfortable out here…" Her words faded out as the expression on Jena's face paled.

Jena's life had always been horses. Besides being family, Jena’s love of horses was the reason that Rob and Meg decided they needed to bring her to the ranch. She had lived her whole life on a horse farm, and they assumed it was what she would want. Meg hadn’t expected the hollow expression and vacant eyes that seemed to be taking up residence on her niece’s face. It was alarming.

Jena nodded and turned back toward the window, putting an end to a one sided conversation. She distractedly played with the window sheers, letting the fabric float through her fingers. Meg peered out in the distance and saw Bunny being turned out in the field. The conversation was clearly over… she could take a hint. With a breath full of surrender, she decided to let Jena be. Maybe it would just take a few days for her to settle in. Everyone needed time, and Jena wasn’t just grieving for her father, she was grieving for a lost life.

“Dinner will be ready shortly,” Meg whispered, as she left the room. “I’ll call up to you when it is done.”

Jena listened to the sound of her aunt treading down the stairwell. She couldn’t blame her for trying. Meg didn’t understand. She didn’t know that Jena hadn’t been on a horse in months, and that she wasn’t sure she ever would again. She shuddered as she thought about her father lying on the ground, broken. She felt her vision tunneling again, and she fought to push her feelings back down. If only she could have saved him. If only… 

The sound of boots on the floor caused her to turn toward the door. She was expecting her uncle, but instead, the man that had been outside, walked into her room, his arms full of her belongings.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Luke. Luke Thomas.” He set her things down near the dresser then looked at her and paused, as if waiting for a response. His hair was still flopping in front of his eyes, but now she could see that they were the clear blue of a sunny day. His shoulders were broad, and his dusty t-shirt clung tightly, giving just a hint of the muscles underneath. Their eyes met again, and she had to steady herself. Her lips moved to say something. She should introduce herself. That would be the polite thing to do. Then again, she didn’t really care for polite right now. Her silence finally clued him in and he turned to leave. “Okay, I guess I’ll just go get the rest of your things.” This time when he returned, she didn’t even turn around.

Jena unpacked her clothes, the few that she had wanted to take with her. Most of what she needed was packed in a large cedar chest. It was the only true heirloom she wanted to keep, and that was only because it had been her grandmother’s. She took out a pair of her breeches and held them in her hands for a long time, remembering the feel of the tan colored fabric on her skin. They had been a staple in her old life. In fact, it is what she wore most days. Worn leather riding boots with mud still caked on them were next to come out of the chest. She tossed them into a corner of the closet. There would be no need for tall riding boots anymore, either. Within a few minutes, the rest of her clothes were folded and put away in the drawers or hanging up in the closet.

She also hadn't brought many personal items from her old life. Having never been to a real school, she didn’t have pictures of friends or dried flowers saved from dances. Her social life and the artifacts that went along with that could be found in a barn.

Carefully, she took out three wooden frames. The first was a picture of her on her first pony, Grace. She was snow white with big, brown, forgiving eyes; the perfect mount for a new rider. A blue ribbon hung from her bridle, and the little girl on her back grinned between two long braids. The next picture was of her dad. He was riding Jasper, the horse he had as a teenager and into his twenties. It was an action shot, and he was mid-jump. Jena used to stare at that picture for hours. It wasn’t long after this picture that he made the Olympic team. He was still young, before the lines began to show on his face. He had been a force to reckon with back then. His form on the back of a horse couldn't be beat. But, as much as he loved to show, he loved to train more. The third picture was of her mother. It was taken about five years ago. Karen's hair was graying at the temples, but she still held a timeless beauty. Her face was soft and it was evidence of a happier time. All three pictures represented the parts of her life that Jena wanted to remember. Everything that had happened since then represented the parts of her life that she wished she could forget.

Jena positioned the picture of her father and her pony on top of the bureau. The picture of her mother she tucked neatly into her top drawer. She knew that deep down, she still loved her mother, but right now she could feel the anger over what her mother had done resurfacing again. She shoved it deep down in the drawer with the picture, not wanting to think about it right now. There was much left unfinished between them.

She placed her toiletries on the counter of the bathroom down the hall and hung the towels on the racks. Next was the bed. She grabbed a set of flowered sheets and made the bed, throwing the worn quilt Meg had left for her on top. With nothing left to unpack, she finally let the exhaustion take over and curled up on the freshly laundered linens.

A few hours later, Jena smelled the dark aroma of her aunt's beef stew, accompanied by fresh bread. The light was fading outside. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, wondering just how long she had been asleep. It was 6 o’clock. It would still be light for a few hours, but the sun would hide behind the mountains shortly before sinking completely out of the sky. Minutes later, she heard the screen door shut and the shuffle of boots on the wood floor. Jena lay still and listened to the muffled voices humming in the kitchen.

"Jena," Meg called softly up the stairs. "Come join us for dinner." It was an invitation, not a command, a gesture Jena appreciated. Throwing her hair in a messy ponytail and grabbing a sweatshirt, she padded down the stairs softly and walked into the dining room.

"Those mares are adjusting nicely,” Rob was saying to Meg. “They will definitely be ready to breed come next spring. One thing my brother knew was thoroughbreds. They will make a nice addition to our program." Jena cringed at the mention of her father. Rob's back was toward her, unaware that she was listening.

"Oh, good. You heard me, sweetie. Why don't you take a seat here?" Meg had noticed Jena in the shadows of the stairwell and smiled warmly at her, pretending Jena didn’t just overhear the conversation, but Jena saw when Meg turned to give Rob a stern look. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to her husband yet about Jena, and what she suspected was Jena’s new attitude toward the horses. Not to mention that it was evident Ted’s death was still a raw and open wound on her heart.

Jena took her place at the table next to her aunt. Meg began dishing out the stew, while Rob sliced the still warm bread. Jena poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table and watched the steam curl up from the fresh bread. Suddenly, she noticed that the table was set for four, not three. Her brow wrinkled as she wondered who else would be eating with them, when she heard screen door open again. A few seconds later, Luke, the man with the sandy blond hair walked in. He paused for a moment when he saw her, his clear blue eyes staring at her. She felt naked beneath his intense gaze.