Page 16 of Christmas at the Ranch
“Same thing.”
“Oh, right,” I say, laughing again. “Thousand-pound animal with a mind of its own, thirty-pound metal frame with hand brakes. Exact same.”
Star is still prancing in the distance, glancing our way every few seconds, as if she’s a kid showing off. “Well, she sure does seem to want your attention. Want to take her inside, give her a good grooming?”
“Yes,” I say, the answer automatic, the idea of getting close to Star impossible to resist.
He grins. “All right, then. Let’s go.”
Seven
Charlie and I let ourselves into the paddock to fetch Star. We lead her into the stable, where we attach her to crossties, which clip to each side of her halter, in the aisle. Charlie turns up the radiant heaters above our heads, and soon it’s warm and cozy.
“Hey, girl,” I say, stroking my fingers across her soft nose, then up over her shiny-coated neck. She snorts and nods.
One of the barn hands comes to ask Charlie a question, and Star and I are alone. I loosen the bits of mud stuck to her coat with a currycomb, moving it in wide circles she seems to enjoy. As I work, I talk to her, asking her what she did to get herself so dirty. After the mud is gone, I pick up the dandy brush, and this gets rid of the dust and dander left in her coat. Soon, it’s shining and Star seems completely relaxed, nickering gently every time I leave to get another brush in the tack room, greeting me with soft, contented noises when I return.
I’m stroking her face with the softest brush I canfind when Charlie returns. “She’s a sweet girl,” he says. “And she’s clearly happy to see you.”
“Do you use her for the trails or the riding school?” I ask him, and something passes across his face, but then it’s gone and I wonder if maybe I imagined it.
Either way, whatever it is, it’s interrupted by a vibrating noise from his jacket pocket. He looks confused by the sound, then mutters under his breath, “This damn contraption Tate makes me carry, probably that silly group chat again.”
He pulls a battered cell phone from the pocket of his oilskin coat. Hishellois followed by a series ofmmmhmms and ayou sure about that.
“Tomorrow morning, first thing, though?” he says.
I really hope he’s not talking about my car.
“Thank you, Meredith. Bye, now.”
Damn it.
He hangs up and looks at me. “She says they’ve had a power outage at the shop because the snow knocked a tree branch onto the power line closest to their garage. Haven’t been able to get your tires on yet. They’re going to have to call it a night. Hydro is insisting they’ll be back in business first thing, if not sooner—and Meredith is insisting it’s not personal this time. It really was a tree branch. I believe her.”
I try to swallow my dismay.
“Any hotels nearby other than the Evergreen Inn? Because I’m pretty sure I’m banned there,” I say.
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Charlie says. “You’ll stay here. Like I said, Tate’s out of town. His cabin is just sitting there empty.”
“No.I couldn’t.” And I really believe this.
“We had a flood up in the main house and I’m afraid it’s a mess of construction right now,” Charlie says. “Tate won’t mind if you stay at his place, I promise you.”
How do you know that?I want to ask. Does Tate know he broke my heart worse than anyone ever has?
Except I can’t say any of that. Charlie is being so kind to me. And where else am I supposed to go? A stall? A snowbank?
“I appreciate it,” I manage.
“Christmas is the time of year for making room for weary travelers, don’t you think?” he says gruffly. “Although I’d never turn you away. Hope you know that.”
“Can I at least earn my keep?” I ask. “I’m sure there are evening chores you need to do, right?”
He nods. “Barn hand’s headed home because of the storm.”
“And with Tate out of town, you’ll need help.”
