Page 20 of Aisle Be The Groom
“In horse years, not so young. Here, we breed our horses no sooner than three years old. Snow White is four.”
“Why do you take so long, then?”
“Peak fertility is at six or seven years, so they have time. By waiting, we give our mares a chance to mature.”
Silence descended as if there was an unspoken understanding between us of the reverence in the moment. Snow White raised her tail and urinated. This time, when Beast approached her, she accepted his affectionate nuzzling. Beast pawed around her.
“He’s checking if her stance is sturdy,” I whispered.
Neighing, Beast mounted Snow White, his front legs hugging her flanks. Ozzie straightened, watching with unabashedfascination. The mare squealed a bit, and the stallion quickly dismounted as if to apologize for the discomfort. After another series of nuzzles and gentle touches, Beast tried again.
Snow White stayed silent, her stance firm as she accepted Beast. Within a minute, the whole thing was over. Beast dismounted and moved away, leaving Snow White standing there, seemingly unaffected by the encounter. The mare gave a soft shake of her body, then trotted off and nibbled at the tall grass.
“Umm, that’s it?” Ozzie asked.
I roared with laughter, which echoed in the still night and startled the two horses. I clutched my stomach and tried to get a hold of myself, but Ozzie’s red face was priceless.
“Well, it is true!” he said. “All that effort for one minute—if that! Then he just moseys on over to his corner of the corral. No cuddles. No nothing.” He made a sound of disgust. “Typical men.”
I sobered. “Hey, you can’t go comparing us to a horse.”
“From my experience, I really can.”
“One-night stands, sure. A quick roll in the hay and then it’s over. We go our separate ways, but that’s not what a relationship is.”
“Isn’t it? In my experience, it’s not so different. Maybe it starts that way, but after a couple of months…” Ozzie widened his eyes as if he realized what he was confessing. Was he saying he and my son didn’t…? A fat drop hit my forehead. Then another on my cheek. I looked up at the sky, now dark with heavy clouds. We’d been so engrossed watching nature take its course I’d forgotten about this side of nature.
“You were actually right,” Ozzie said.
The droplets pelted us, coming down harder by the minute and robbing me of the chance to rub it into his face at how right Iwas. The house was merely twinkling lights in the distance. Shit, we would be soaked by the time we made it there.
“Oh my god, it’s coming down really hard!” Ozzie cried.
I grabbed his wrist. “We’ll have to wait it out in the barn.”
7
OZZIE
Gray was the sweetest man for not running off and leaving me to face the icy downpour of the rain on my own. He was the kind of man who would have found space for Jack on the floating door in the middle of the Atlantic instead of leaving him to freeze to death. When we broke into a run, he stayed by my side, even though he could have easily sprinted ahead. With a gentle hand on my back, he guided me, which I was grateful for. I couldn’t see shit.
“Come on, Ozzie! We’re almost there.”
Frigid water numbed my bare legs. When we finally made it to the building, I bent over, my hands on my knees, catching my breath while Gray wrestled with the heavy door.
“I can…help,” I wheezed.
“I’ve got it.” Of course he did. With every second I spent with Gray, I understood him a little more. He was a man who was capable in every sense of the word. Just as a gust of wind slammed into me and pushed me against him, he shoved open the door. He tightened his arm around me and pulled me inside.The door closed with a heavy thud, shutting out the freezing rain and biting wind.
“Oz, you okay?”
“Y-y-yes.” My teeth chattered, and I huddled against the door. Oh my god, why was it so painfully cold?
The flashlight came on, illuminating the barn with its crisscrossed skeletal wooden beams. The scent of freshly cut wood mingled with the pungent aroma of hay stacked neatly in corners and along the walls.
In the dim light, shadows danced across the smooth, unblemished floor. Scattered throughout were storage boxes, some open and spilling over with tools and supplies.
Gray loomed large in the dim light. Like me, his clothes were soaked, and he was dripping on the floor.
