Page 7 of Back in the Saddle

“Yes. Salty is coming with the truck, so you can take Dior to the isolation yard for the vet.”

I nodded. Moving her by truck would prevent spread. Dan would scan her and flush her to make sure she hadn’t retained any placenta. He’d take bloods to test for EHV, progesterone and other important stats. For two weeks, while we waited for the necropsy results, she would need to stay isolated and would probably be on antibiotics.

We kept to the facts of the situation while my insides were reeling. Dior standing over her foal and mourning it was hard enough. But the fact that we’d lost a valuable foal was a big hit to the farm. Taylor would know it too. This was a bad situation in the best of years, but during a drought, it was ten times worse.

The afternoon would be busy for me, which was good; I’d need distracting. Helping the vet, disinfecting the truck from top to bottom, showering and washing my clothes. Later, it would really hit; then, I’d miss my family the most. Their presence alone would have helped soothe my melancholy. And talking it through with Taylor would have helped ease the worry. Instead, I’d be facing it alone.

I putmy freshly washed clothes in the dryer and turned to go inside as the kids pulled into the driveway. Surely Taylor had got my hint about having dinner with them.

Isabelle got out and came over to me. “Mum told us to come and get you for dinner.”

“I’m good. I’ve got leftovers.”

“She’s not going to take no for an answer.”

I glanced at Callum in the car. He was watching us intently. I returned my focus to Isabelle. “Is that why she sent both of you?’’

Isabelle nodded. “She told us about Dior.”

“OK.” There was no point arguing. The kids wouldn’t leave unless I went with them.

They waited for me while I turned the lights off and then we headed home. Their home. Not mine anymore. Yet Taylor had still invited me in. She knew I’d be feeling down about the loss of the foal. Dior was probably over it by now and here I was still feeling sad. Horses are not like humans. I’d seen horses abort foals and simply walk away.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants before I walked into the house. I glanced around. Everything was still the same, except now the hooks were empty of my hat and coats.

Taylor’s brown eyes met mine as I stepped into the living room. A small smile turned her lips up. My steps faltered. The smile may have been small, but it conveyed so much— understanding, acceptance, love. What was wrong with me? It didn’t say any of that at all. It was a smile, nothing more, nothing less. Maybe she felt guilty about blaming me for her failures or this morning, where apparently everything was my fault.

Maybe it wasn’t even her idea that I come over for dinner. I needed to stop wishing, hoping, for us to get back together because it wasn’t going to happen. And making shit up in my head wasn’t helping.

“I thought since you love my spag bol so much, you should join us for dinner,” Taylor said as she served out the spaghetti and topped it with Bolognese sauce.

My heart stuttered. So, it was her idea, after all.

“No better way to have it than with good company,” I said. Was that too much? Geez, why was I overthinking everything?

The day I’d first seen her, there had been no overthinking involved. All I wanted to do was keep the beauty with wistful brown eyes in my sights.

I crossedover the Grattan Bridge. It was early afternoon, so the traffic on the road beside me wasn’t hectic. Usually, I’d be rushing to get home before my brothers finished school, but Mam told me this morning that she’d be home. So, when my boss asked me to make a delivery across the river it was no problem. It was a nice change not having to hurry from my shift at the pub.

Voices drifted up from the Liffey River below. I looked over the railing. Some kayakers were approaching, drifting on the water as a guide pointed out buildings. One lass, with an olive woollen hat pulled over her ears, was a short distance away from the main group. Long brown hair flowed down her back. While the others smiled and laughed at the guide, her face was impassive as she gazed out to the old brown, red, and cream brick buildings four to five storeys high.

She drifted towards the bridge, closer and closer. My stomach felt like it was floating. I couldn’t drag my eyes away. She was stunning. Her skin was tanned and small freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks. Thick eyelashes encircled her brown eyes.

The kayaks disappeared beneath me. I rushed across the bridge and made my way to the boardwalk, keeping the kayaks in sight as I strode across the wooden walkway in the direction they were heading.

People were sitting and drinking coffee in the sunshine, just colours as I dashed past them to get to the next bridge. I needed to see her again. I wanted to memorise every part of her, take a catalogue of all her beautiful features.

I was fortunate that not much paddling was going on from the kayakers. I was able to catch up and made it to the Millennium Bridge before they passed. I sent a silent mantra out,look up, look up,begging for her to look up and see me,to meet my gaze, to smile only for me. Her gazed wandered everywhere but in my direction.

They drifted past again towards the Ha’ Penny Bridge and I repeated the exercise. My fingers grazed the love locks attached to the railings as I held onto the balustrade, studying her. This time, I noticed her full lips and how soft they looked. Her cheeks were red, probably from the cold. She wore no makeup, and she was perfect. Her eyes were what captured me the most, so soulful.

The group set off again, and I followed like a cat in the shadows chasing a mouse. The kayaks made their way to the boardwalk. I dashed to the spot, not wanting her to disembark and disappear. No way in hell that was happening.

I shookthe memory away as I glanced at Taylor, who was as beautiful and poignant as that first day I’d laid eyes on her. One look at her and I had been hypnotised. I’d never in my life looked at a woman like I’d looked at her, studied a woman like I’d studied her. I never would again.

“How’s Dior?” Taylor asked.

“The vet didn’t think there were any physical concerns. I think she’s more worried about being separated from the herd than losing her foal.”

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