Page 35 of Back in the Saddle

I searched for Rachel. She was talking to a stud hand by the fence and wasn’t in earshot.

Lorraine moved closer to me, drawing my attention to her, before saying, “Last night was nice. We had fun. We laughed. Did something happen this morning?”

I sighed. “It was the same old Taylor this morning.” I looked down at my feet and kicked the dirt. “She told me off in front of Fran.”

“What about?” she said gently.

“I didn’t get the new worker to sign all her forms before she moved in.”

Lorraine tightened her lips. “You know that you should have.”

I didn’t acknowledge her reprimand. “She didn’t have to chew me out in front of Fran.”

“Ciaron.” Her voice was stern.

I swallowed. “Yes, Sofia should have signed her paperwork first.”

“Because the one time Taylor didn’t get it signed first, she then forgot altogether, and we couldn’t withhold wages when a house was damaged.”

I nodded. It had cost us thousands and Taylor had never forgiven herself. We had all made sure not to make the same mistake again.

“Maybe she shouldn’t have done it in front of Fran, but she probably thought it was just Fran.”

“Maybe.” Lorraine was right. Fran was always there. She heard everything.

“What made you forget to get the forms signed? That’s not like you.”

I looked away. “I was distracted.”

“About?”

Did I really want to tell her? Admit that I was weak and was hoping for something impossible? This was Lorraine. If anything, she’d help me with my feelings.

“Taylor,” I said.

“What about Taylor?”

How much had Taylor told her? What had the kids said? I’d tried to keep a lot from them. I didn’t want them exposed to how I was feeling. I didn’t want to influence their feelings for Taylor or myself.

“I don’t know.”

I looked around and saw that Rachel had left us. I relaxed my shoulders, ready to speak freely.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Lorraine said.

That was a good idea. Less opportunity for me to gather nervous energy.

“What about Taylor had you distracted?”

“Last night was nice. It reminded me of old times, when we were happy.”

Lorraine nodded and smiled. “You have to hand it to those kids; they set the night up perfectly. They knew exactly how much you both like to share that story.”

She was right. Bloody kids. They’d bided their time, waited until our defences were down, and then, wham, asked us to recite our story. Did they really think one retelling could fix all our problems? Maybe not. Maybe the whole point was to get us talking. My head hurt thinking about what else they might have planned.

We walked along the road, paddocks lined both sides. Without rain, the road had become dusty. With every footstep, a small plume of dust rose around our feet. The horses were dusty. We were dusty. Our homes were dusty. The windows weren’t clear glass anymore. Sometimes we’d wash them with the water from the washing machine. It wasn’t exactly clean water, but using it with the sponge and squeegee was effective.

The grass was more brown than green in the paddocks around us. Because the maidens living there weren’t pregnant, they didn’t need as much extra feed yet. Even the leaves on the trees were brown and fragile. It’s like we were all losing our colour.

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