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“Like everything,” Maggie said.
“So we talked about me all evening. Now what about you?”
She fidgeted, glad it was fairly dark out except for the flickering of the citronella candle. How could she tell a stranger about what had brought her to this place in her life? She still hadn’t fully rationalized it herself.
The story told to everyone but her closest friends and family: she had the opportunity of a lifetime to make good on her childhood dream and buy the old homestead, a place she had loved her entire life. It seemed plausible. It was accepted as a reasonable excuse to quit her job, leave her family and friends, and put her house up for sale. She even sold her car. “Why do I need a car there? I’ll take the boat everywhere I want to go.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” she told Justin. “Can I give you the simple story now, and if we get to know each other better, then I can spill the whole thing?”
“I think that sounds reasonable,” he said like a gentleman.
“I was at loose ends and needed to make some changes. My aunt said they were going to sell Bayou Cottage, and I begged them to allow me to buy it, and they did.”
“Wow, no one in your family wanted it?”
“No one else wanted it. But I wanted it. I love it here.”
“It’s hard to understand why everyone doesn’t love it here, but frankly, I’m glad. I hope it stays small,” Justin said.
“So you just prefer the quiet?”
“I do. Maybe because it’s all I know except for college and vet school, and that was chaos for nine years. I was constantly trying to find a place to get away.”
“Did you find a place to go alone?”
“Believe it or not, the barn.” He laughed, slapping his thigh. “The animals were happy I was there and they didn’t talk. I studied in the barn, too.”
He looked out to the woods to the north side of the cottage. “If you look low, between those trees near the yard, you’ll see some shiny eyes watching us. Look low because they’re lying down.”
He reached out his arm to pull Maggie by the hand over to see the horses. “They’re lying on the ground, a group of them. They’ll stay there for a while, but they don’t sleep all night like we do.”
She had crouched down, taking his hand, and crept to the railing on the north side of the cottage. A whinny escaped from the woods from time to time.
“Is this something new? In all the years I came here, the horses would come into the yard during the day and eat my grandmother’s roses, but I don’t remember them sleeping here at night.”
“There might have been too much activity if there were people coming and going. The house has been empty for a while now, so they might feel safe out there.”
The longer she looked, the more eyes she saw watching them. “How wonderful. I’ll call my aunt tomorrow and tell her. I’m so happy they feel safe here.”
“It’s not like that everywhere they go. They can be destructive, eatin’ crops, trampling gardens. Not everyone likes the horses.”
“I guess I can understand, but I want them to feel safe here.”
“Don’t feed them, though,” Justin had warned. “You’ll be inundated. Let them forage. It’s better for the land if they keep the scrub down. How many acres you got, Maggie? A hundred? One fifty?”
“I think it’s around a hundred. Why?”
He leaned over with his elbow on his knee. “I just had a thought is all. About the horses.”
“A lot is marsh, though. You know what they’re saying about the water table here. Everyone had something to say about it today.”
“The horses have been here a long time. They know where to go to stay dry.”
“Do you want more wine?” she asked.
“One more is my limit,” he said, chuckling. “I don’t want to get lost back in them woods.”
“No, especially at night.”
