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Stepping through the doorway is like going back in time. Everything is the same as it was the day I packed my bags and left. It’s as if I’m walking down memory lane. The walls are painted crisp white with dark blue trimming on the doorframes. Family pictures line the hall. The smell of cookies baking twists my heart. It reminds me of Mom.
“Tally bakes?” I turn to Harley, unable to hide my surprise.
“Yep. She’s as good as Mom, if not better. We’ve got a kitchen down in one of the smaller sheds, and she leads classes with our holiday-stay guests and one-on-one sessions with clients. Simple cooking skills for those special needs people who need it. It’s amazing how much they all learn here. They’re smarter than the world gives them credit for.”
“Oh, I completely understand that. What Dad did with this place is nothing short of amazing. These people’s lives are changed, and they’re taught skills no other place currently offers.”
“Quit taking your time and get in here,” Tally yells from the kitchen. Harley and I grin at each other and make our way down the hall and into an open dining and kitchen area.
This part of the house has changed—it’s become more modern. There are white cupboards and black marble countertops with stainless-steel appliances. It’s huge. If I loved baking or cooking, I’d stay in here all day and never leave. It’s never been my strong suit—horses have.
My gaze lands on a range of different-colored iced cookies sitting on the countertop. “These look great, Tally.” I move to the opposite side of the counter and take a seat so I don’t get in her way.
“Thanks. You can have one. It’s Mom’s recipe.”
Without hesitation, Harley and I snatch one, and we both take a bite. The sugar cookie melts in my mouth. Harley was right—in fact, these are better than Mom’s, but the memories of the cookies all belong to her, especially at Christmas time. These were Mom’s specialties.
“These are amazing,” I say between bites.
Tally shrugs. “I know. I’ve mastered it. Dad wouldn’t let me help out much with the therapies since I’m not fully qualified, and you know me. Sometimes horses scare me because they’re such big animals.” Her body shakes as she says the words. “So, I took to the kitchen and did an online course, and now I have a qualification in cooking and can teach the kids and any others who need it.”
I beam at her, a proud sister. “That’s really great, Tally. You’re doing something amazing for these people. They need someone like you teaching them those skills. I might need to get you in the saddle, though.”
“I’m not so sure. They scare me. Give me a motorbike any day.” She laughs nervously, and it’s almost like I never left. We’d have these kinds of conversations around the dining table. I loved those times and miss them. I want Olive to have these experiences, and she will as she grows up.
“You took to the motorbikes pretty quickly,” I say.
“That’s because she wouldn’t get on the dang horse,” Harley jokes as he stands in front of the refrigerator. Tally kicks out and hits him in the butt with her foot.
“Shut up. I’m not the horse whisperer like this one here,” she says, jerking a thumb in my direction.
“That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. I’ve probably lost my mojo, it’s been so long.” While Tally’s back is turned, I snatch another cookie. They’re addictive. I know what my midnight snack is going to be tonight.
“You can work your magic tomorrow. I’m heading to the horse sale yards in the morning. You wanna come?” Harley asks as he takes some food from the refrigerator and then piles meat and condiments onto some bread.
Going to the yards was something I used to do with Dad. “Is Dad coming?”
He shakes his head. “No, he hasn’t been since you left, now that I think about it.” His brow furrows, then he shrugs and goes back to his sandwich.
“Oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll come then. What time?”
“The usual… early. Have to get in there first thing in the morning to get the good ones, or at least the ones you think are good. No one has come close to you in picking the good horses. You should go down and see your horse, Holly. I bet she’d remember you. After all, you saved her.”
I finish the last bit of my cookie and say, “Wow, it’s been so long. She’d probably bite me for leaving her.”
“Maybe. She still bites Hudson and me but won’t bite girls, so Mabel takes care of her,” Harley says with a full mouth of food.
The day we brought Holly home, she was skin and bones. She’d been left in a stall most of her life. I wanted to hit the man who was selling her—he wanted top dollar for her. When Dad saw how Holly reacted to me, he didn’t hesitate. I can read the animals—obviously better than I read people.
“Okay, well, I’m happy to go. Is there anything I can do to help around here for the rest of the day?” I ask, glancing between Tally and Harley.
“I’m not sure. Why not get your stuff settled in your room and then go down and see Holly. Just have a day gathering yourself? Tomorrow, you’ll go horse shopping with Harley. After that, I’m sure you’ll be busy,” Tally suggests as she takes a fresh tray of cookies from the oven and places them one by one on a cooling rack.
“Sure, that sounds good.” Silence fills the room briefly before Harley takes the remainder of his sandwich, bids us farewell, and heads back out the front door.
“Your room is… well, you already know where it is.” Tally shrugs and grabs the bowl of premixed cookie dough and flour from another counter, the room suddenly turning icy.
Rising from my seat, I ask, “Is there something you want to say? Just get it off your chest. I’m already dealing with Dad and his snide remarks, so just lay it on me.”
