Page 72 of Ethan

“I’m not ready to forgive you,” Naomi said. “I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“But I’ll hear you out.” She pushed off the counter. “I’ll make coffee.”

Something moved across her mother’s face that Naomi turned away from before she could feel too much about it.

She put a K-cup in the coffee machine and kept her back to the room.

****

Ethan stood at Vulcan’s stall and tried to focus on what he was doing. He couldn’t.

He’d seen Naomi’s face when she’d said the words.This is my mother.Two months of watching her carefully, learning her expressions, and he’d never seen that particular look before. Not anger exactly. Something older and harder than anger.

He leaned against the stall door, and Vulcan pushed his nose into his chest.

He should have let her handle it. It wasn’t his place to suggest she take her to the apartment; he could see that now. She hadn’t asked for his help, and he’d stepped in anyway because he didn’t know what else to do when he saw her standing there like that, holding herself together by sheer will.

He ran a hand down Vulcan’s nose and stared at the far wall.

He thought about what she’d told him in the kitchen that night. About dreaming as a little girl that her mother would come back with a reason that made sense. About how she’d finally stopped waiting for that to happen. And now the woman was here, sitting in Naomi’s apartment, and Ethan didn’t know if that was a gift or a grenade.

He heard boots on the gravel and turned to see Rowdy.

“Everything alright, boss? Saw a stranger’s car out front.”

“It’s fine, Rowdy. Family.” He pushed off the stall.

Rowdy nodded and moved off. Ethan looked up at the apartment window.

He wanted to go up there, but he stayed where he was.

This wasn’t his to fix.

He kept himself busy. He checked on the other horses, reviewed the schedule with Rowdy, walked the fence line on the east side of the barn that had been bothering him for a week. He did everything he could think of to keep his hands occupied and his mind from drifting up those stairs.

An hour passed. Maybe a little more.

Then he heard the apartment door open and footsteps on the stairs. Two sets.

He came around the corner of the barn and stopped.

Naomi and her mother were standing at the bottom of the stairs. Linda had her hands clasped in front of her, and Naomi had her arms crossed, but loosely, not the way she’d been holding herself earlier.

Linda said something low that he couldn’t hear. Naomi nodded once.

Then Linda walked to her rental car, got in, and drove slowly out of the yard.

Naomi stood watching until the car disappeared, then she turned and saw him.

She walked toward him and he met her halfway.

He didn’t say anything. He just opened his arms. She walked into them, pressed her face against his chest, and he held her.

She didn’t cry. She just stood there and let him hold her. He kept his arms around her, his mouth shut and waited for her to be ready.

After a long moment she lifted her head.