Page 33 of Second Chance Saloon

“Thank you. But—”

“No more of this nonsense.” Estrella linked her arm with Jackie’s, pulling her toward the barn. “Come, let’s get you to Bella.”

They trundled past open chicken coops and a vegetable patch, from which Jackie caught a whiff of ripe tomatoes. “How’s Lina doing?”

“Good. Not long left for her now until the foal comes.” Estrella dipped her chin. “Bruno’s a bit worried about her. Says she lies down more often than she used to and isn’t eating as much. I tell him she’s pregnant, that’s all.”

Jackie furrowed her brow. “Did you have a vet look in on her?”

“Last week. Said Lina’s all good, she didn’t see any reason to worry about the birth. She’s away now, went to visit her daughter in Mexico City who broke her leg, poor thing. She’ll be back in a week or two.”

Jackie knew all too well how many things could go wrong during labor for both the mare and the foal. She didn’t want to add extra worry onto Estrella and Bruno’s shoulders without a reason. If their vet thought Lina was fine, who was she to contradict her?

“How’s my Rea doing? Working hard, I hope?” Estrella opened a metal gate in front of the barn entrance.

“Rea’s fantastic. She’s the one keeping the place running, really. No idea what the hotel would do without her.”

Jackie wondered whether she should tell Estrella about Rea’s upcoming promotion to assistant manager. But no one knew yet, not even Rea. She bit back a smile, imagining the happy scene of Rea telling her parents the news; it was hers to share.

“She works hard. We’re very proud of her,” Estrella said.

Jackie gave a vacant nod.

Were her parents proud of her? They used to be, once upon a time, when she was thriving at school and then in college. Her father had puffed out his chest at parties and told anyone who’d listen that his daughter would be a doctor. There was an unmistakable glint in his eye whenever he’d said it, like imagining her donning a white coat was in part his achievement. Now, as a thirty-two-year-old college dropout, she doubted anyone was proud of her. She definitely wasn’t proud of herself.

“Here she is. Bella, look who came to take you out on a nice ride,” Estrella cooed, resting her forearms on top of the stall’s gate.

Jackie’s lips split into a wide smile when she reached across to pat Bella’s stunning neck. She was the first horse of this coloring she’d ever seen. Estrella called her azulejo. A dark blue roan coat color guaranteed Bella would stand out anywhere they went.

“Attagirl,” she spoke to Bella in a soft voice. “We’re going to go on a little adventure. I need to think, and nature might be the only answer.”

“I’ll leave you to it. Need to get back to my conchas, or else Bruno will be rambling all afternoon.” Estrella’s fingers cocooned Jackie’s wrist. “I’m not blind, chula. I can see something isn’t right with you today. I won’t ask, but if you ever want to talk … I can listen.”

Jackie blew out her cheeks. “Thank you.”

Estrella nodded before leaving the barn.

Bella nuzzled her nose into Jackie’s open palm.

She threaded her fingers through Bella’s mane. “Let’s saddle you up.”

Three hours of trotting through the magnificent depths of emerald jungle on Bella’s back did little to slow Jackie’s thundering heart. When she got back to the hotel—two pink tins filled with conchas under her arm—she expertly navigated through the lobby, avoiding being pulled into conversations by employees unless there was something that demanded her attention, like authorizing reaching out to an alternative balloon supplier for their New Year’s Eve party. It was her day off, after all.

Jackie spotted Rea talking with Luis in hushed voices behind the reception desk. She waved to her, almost dropping the tins when she loosened her grip on them.

Rea beelined to her. “Yes, Miss van Moetlier?” She caught Jackie’s stern gaze. “Jackie,” she corrected herself with a wince.

Jackie chuckled as she passed Rea one of the tins. “This is for you. I took Bella out for a ride. Your mom sends her love.”

Rea eyed the tin suspiciously. “What’s in it? I hope it isn’t more pan dulce.”

“It is, freshly baked conchas,” Jackie confirmed, her brow scrunched. “What’s wrong with pan dulce?”

“Nothing. But if you grew up with someone who loves it as much as my dad, you’d get fed up with it too.”

“My grandmother is obsessed with stew. When I first moved abroad, I couldn’t stand the look of stew anywhere. Felt like I had stew coming out of my ears.”

Rea hugged the tin to her chest and coughed out a laugh. “Good stew isn’t bad. Thank you for bringing me a piece of home.”