Page 130 of Touch the Sky
The sky is still a deep black when I leave the house in the morning, with just the faintest few streaks of orange ringing the horizon. I realize it’s now the first of November. The trees are almost completely bare, and every day takes us further into the darkness of winter.
I pull my jacket a little tighter around me. It’s cold enough that I reach for the pair of knit gloves tucked into one of my pockets. My breath clouds the air in front of my face.
My eyes feel dry and grainy. I was sure I hadn’t slept at all last night, but I must have dozed off at some point. I startled awake at the sound of my 6AM alarm going off.
Shel is still fast asleep. I’m considering cancelling all my farrier calls today and letting her stay home from school, but I’ll see how she feels when she gets up.
For now, I have Jacinthe to face.
Despite tossing and turning all night, I still have no idea what I’m going to say.
I know I owe her an apology, at least. How I spoke when she came to find me in the pasture wasn’t okay, and it wasn’t even accurate.
I don’t wish we never came here. I just wish I knew where the fuck to go now.
After hovering on the landing outside my door for a few more minutes, I accept that no pre-dawn epiphany is showing up to strike me. I’m going to have to wing this.
I step down onto the well-worn dirt path, the earth cold and hard beneath my boots. I make it a few paces down the route to the barn before I notice something is off.
The horses are already outside.
“What the hell?” I mutter.
The paddocks are all dotted with grazing horses, clouds of condensation forming in the air around their noses.
I wrack my brain to try and remember if we somehow forgot to bring them in last night, but they were definitely locked up when we were looking for Shel.
That means Jacinthe has already been down to the barn.
I jog around to the front of the house to scan the driveway.
Her truck is gone.
She did the morning chores without me.
I’m still glancing around the yard like she might pop up out of some bushes and tell me this is all a joke when a voice from up on the porch cuts through the stillness of the dawn.
“She went to the inn.”
I jump about a foot in the air when I spot Gabrielle watching me from one of the rocking chairs. She’s wrapped in several blankets, a steaming mug of tea clutched in her hands.
“Pardonnez-moi,ma belle,” she says when she witnesses me nearly have a heart attack. “I did not mean to scare you.”
“That’s okay,” I wheeze, clutching my chest. “I just didn’t see you there.”
Once my pulse is no longer racing, I step over to the edge of the porch.
“I can’t believe everything is done already,” I say, sweeping my hand out towards the paddocks. “She must have gotten up in the middle of the night.”
Gabrielle tuts and shakes her head. “I don’t think she slept at all.”
“I’m not sure I did either,” I admit.
Gabrielle nods at the rocking chair next to hers. “Would you like to come sit?”
It’s still way too early to wake Shel up even if she does feel well enough for school today, so I hop up onto the porch and settle into the chair.
“Can I get you a tea or a coffee?” Gabrielle asks.
