Page 27 of Back in the Saddle

“Parents can be arseholes.”

“I didn’t ring him after that. He only called on my birthday and Christmas. Then, out of the blue, he invited me to come and stay for a week.”

“And it hasn’t gone well?”

“No. The children are feral. I try to ignore them.”

“But?”

“Their mother is rude, and my father doesn’t say anything.”

He grunted. “Been there. It’s funny how much my mother’s attitude changes every time my father is in jail. When he’s out, she loves him and he’s the best man in the world. When he’s back in, it’s the opposite.”

I liked his mother less and less every time he spoke about her.

“How do you handle that?”

“It’s easier not to say anything, but sometimes I can’t hold it in, and I drive the point home that she always goes back to him.”

We continued talking the rest of the way to the farm. I told him about my peaceful life in Australia and my mother, who seemed to be the opposite of his. Even after my father had left, she’d kept my life stable, and she managed a successful farm. She didn’t hook up with every man who paid her a compliment. She never shirked her responsibility.

When we got to the farm, we were like old friends learning new things about each other.

“You can park over there,” I said, pointing to the side of the road opposite my father’s house. We parked and hopped out of the car. Behind the house were lush green paddocks withwooden fences. Some of the fences were lined with trees. And dotted around the paddocks were horses.

Ciaron’s eyes were wide as he gazed around at the wide-open space.

“What do you think?” I asked as I stood beside him.

“It’s like a city park but on steroids.” He took a deep breath, like he was savouring the fresh air.

“These are the maiden paddocks,” I said.

His eyebrows drew together.

“Maidens are mares who haven’t had babies yet.” I pointed to a paddock down the road. “That paddock has mares and their foals.”

Some mares were lying flat on their side.

“Are they OK? Why are they lying down?” Ciaron asked.

I smiled at the concern in his voice. This man noticed things that many other people would brush off and wasn’t afraid to ask questions.

“They’re sleeping. Horses can sleep standing up, but to get quality REM sleep, they lie down.”

He blushed.

I didn’t want him to be embarrassed, so I added, “Usually in the wild, other horses will be keeping watch close by to make sure the sleeping horses are safe.”

“None of the others seem to be watching the sleeping ones,” he noted.

“No. They all know they’re safe here.”

Isabelle laughed.“OMG. Dad, you still have a thing for sleeping horses.”

She had her elbows resting on the counter and her chin in her hands.

Callum chuckled. “How many times do we have to stop so you can watch a sleeping horse to make sure it’s OK?”

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