Page 12 of Begin Again
“I pet him every day.”
Joseph offers his daughter anI told you solook and she shakes her head. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighs. “I don’t like this. We don’t even know if he can ride. What if he falls and it makes whatever he has going on worse?”
“Or what if he falls and it makes him remember?” Joseph says with a straight face, but I know he’s only saying it to get a rise out of his daughter. And it works, her eyes blazing with fury. “I’m only kidding, Char. Let’s give it a shot, and if it still seems like a bad idea, you can end lessons dead stop.”
Charlie glares at me. “Fine, but if anything, and I meananything, goes wrong…That’s it.”
I’m not sure what makes me go along with Joseph’s request—horseback riding lessons aren’t a requirement of my role at the ranch—but I do it anyway. Maybe it’s my curiosity about Shadow, maybe it’s my curiosity about Charlie, or maybe it’s both. Whatever the reason, I raise my right hand to my forehead in a mock salute, and say, “You’re the boss.”
Her gaze narrows even further before she closes her eyes, hearing the hoofs of the horse Jenny rides come closer. Taking a breath, she re-centers herself and turns on her heel to finish the lesson.
I wait until she’s gone to turn back to Joseph. “So, the real reason I came out here, Joseph, is to let you know I fixed that leak under the sink. Gonna need to replace some of that cabinet beneath it, bit of wood rot under there from the moisture.”
“You have enough wood in the barn?” Joseph asks, not taking his eyes off Charlie.
“Should, but I’ll be able to tell once I get more into it.”
“Don’t get in too deep, it’s not that much trouble.”
That’s a weird thing to say. I shrug. “I don’t mind. Helps me take my mind off things.”
“Any luck in the memory department?” Joseph finally looks over at me, and his question earns Melody’s attention, too.
“I get a little here and there, but nothing…big.” I glance out over the rolling acres of the ranch. “Nothing that tells me anything.”
“Don’t worry, dear,” Melody says. “You’ll get there soon enough, I’m sure. Don’t stress yourself too much or you could make it worse.”
“You’re right, Mrs. Jones…Well, I’m gonna go finish up that sink. Make sure there’s enough wood.”
A week after Joseph suggests putting me in the arena with Shadow, Charlie asks me if Ireallywant to give it a try. The thought of getting on the back of a horse is a bit nerve-racking, but it can’t be that hard, right? After dinner, she knocks on my door and tells me to meet her in the barn in the morning. We’ll get in a lesson before the August heat rolls in and before the afternoon sun stands overhead. The weather has taken a turn for the worse in the last few days, and by noon the heat will reach close to one-hundred degrees. It’s beautiful but hot, and I’ll have to check on the fence at the farthest part of the ranch where Joseph says it looks like there’s some damage from a summer storm a few nights ago.
The next morning, Charlie walks into the barn as I finish cleaning Lady’s stall—the same horse Jenny had been riding during her lesson last week—and she doesn’t look happy. I’m not surprised. I’m used to her morning moods but today seems worse than normal. Charlotte Blackwood is the furthest thing from a morning person, requiringat leastone cup of coffee before anyone talks to her. And from the looks of it, I don’t think she’s even close to finishing that first cup, or maybe today is a two-cup kind of day.
“Mornin’, Char,” I call over my shoulder, but she only grunts. Charlie sits on the plywood box across the hall from the stall, her legs pulled up to her chest, sipping from the travel mug on the top of her jean-clad thighs. “What cup is that?”
“One.”
“Talk to me when you’re done with it.”
“Shut up.” Charlie rolls her eyes, but her face falls when I step outside the stall. Her eyes travel up the length of my body as I lean against the rake and when she meets my raised brow, she quickly looks away, knowing she’s been caught. She clears her throat. “Hurry up. I want to get this over with.”
I try to hide my smirk, shaking my head and putting away the muck rake. “Anything I can do to get things moving for this lesson?”
Charlie points toward the tack room I cleaned up about a month ago. When I first walked in, I didn’t think it would be that bad—maybe a day or two to get it organized—but it had taken me almost a week to get it in good working order. Finishing the remodel that had been started but never finished was next on my list after mending the fence. That damn fence has become a nuisance. Something is always going wrong with it. It’s an old fence—I don’t think it’s been replaced since it was first installed however many years ago—but Joseph refuses to let me do any replacements unless it’s absolutely necessary. It’s getting to thepoint where slapping on a Band-Aid and calling it good won’t work anymore.
“Get your tack ready,” she says after a sip of coffee. When I look at her like she has three heads, she rolls her eyes for the millionth time. “Saddle. Bridle. Pads.”
I repeat the words as I walk through the tack room, using only the knowledge and limited experience of seeing horses on television to find what look to be the right items.
Her instructions continue with brushing Shadow before putting together the saddle. The whole time, Charlie watches from her place on the box with an unreadable expression, almost a mix of amazement, confusion, and irritation.
Next comes the tack, and from her throne, she gives me the order in which it should go: pads, saddle, buckle the girth (“What is a girth?” “The belt,” she says rolling her eyes), fit the bridle (“No, you put the mouthpiece in first.”), and adjust where needed.
“What the fuck?” Charlie says under her breath when I lead Shadow out of the barn by the reins. Her gaze is still slightly narrowed in confusion when she follows us into the outdoor arena. “Do you want me to take the reins while you mount?”
“What do you think?” I ask Shadow, earning a huff in response.
When I look at Charlie for interpretation, she only shrugs. “Let’s try it. See what happens.”
