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“Yep,” Nash said, “you’re just fine, all right.”
Vivian stifled a smile. Gretta certainly had a mouth on her, and she wasn’t afraid to use it. How someone so small grew such bigcajoneswas a mystery to her.
“Well,” Nash announced, as he turned and scooped his typical cowboy hat off the dining bench and plopped it on top of his head, “I best be headed out. Maxine isn’t going to be too happy if I’m late again with her morning apple.”
Vivian frowned, wondering who in the hell the woman he was talking about was. When his gaze skated to hers, he winked again, making her heart do that fluttery thing she wasn’t too sure she liked, and he set off.
“Oh, don’t look so put out,” Gretta admonished her as she picked up a damp cloth and started cleaning the countertops.
“I’m not upset,” Vivian said, her voice a touch too high for her to even believe her own lie.
“Yes, you are, dear. But I assure you, he ain’t off to see another woman. At least, not the kind you’re considerin’.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just that the boy has only one woman in his heart right now, and that’s his noble steed.”
Vivian took a moment to wrap her head around that. “You mean a horse? Maxine is a horse?”
“Not just any horse,” Gretta clarified, a touch of sadness entering her voice. “Maxine was his wife’s.”
“Oh.” Vivian frowned again, wondering when Nash had been married and why he no longer was. Could it be his cantankerous attitude that drove her away?
“I see that head spinning,” Gretta said, ever-observant. “Go on, give voice to those thoughts before they drive ya nuts.”
Vivian smiled half-heartedly. “I don’t want to pry…”
Gretta belted out a laugh. “Yes, you do, dear. Now out with it.”
Refilling her coffee mug, Vivian gave up cleaning and sat down in the chair she’d occupied earlier for breakfast. “Well…what happened? To his marriage, I mean.”
Gretta filled her own mug and joined her at the table, her demeanor sobering considerably. “That’s a loaded question, but a valid one. I’ll tell ya, it wasn’t a good day for anyone, but most especially Nash. That poor boy,” she said, shaking her head as she stared at her reflection in the coffee. “He loved Carlene more than any man’s got a right to. Losin’ her tore him to pieces.”
“What happened?” Vivian asked again, eager to get to the meat of the story that was unfolding too slowly for her taste.
Gretta’s gaze lifted and met hers, filled with a sadness that instantly made Vivian regret ever asking for answers, fearing she already had them.
“It was a bitter January morning when the truck hit her.” She shook her head again, as if in disbelief. “Nash had been working so hard here and then going home to work his farm, trying to get it off the ground and profitable so he’d have something solid to raise his family on. He worked himself day and night, and I used to warn him, ‘Boy, you’re gonna work yourself to death.’ But he never listened. He was determined. Still is.
“The night before, he’d been so tired, he forgot to latch the barn doors. The horses got out, and he and some of my hands had to go corral them. Ornery buggers. Maxine was Carlene’s horse. She’d broken her herself, and they had a bond. When they found Maxine wandering down the road heading into town, it was Carlene who went to get her, ‘cause no one else could make that damn horse listen. Always reminded me of Nash,” she said with a soft, reflective smile.
“That truck came out of nowhere. Blindsided Carlene and kept on going.”
Vivian covered her mouth on a horrified gasp. “Did they catch who did it?”
“It was just some dumb kid. He’d been drinkin’ all night with his friends. Was rushin’ home, tryin’ to make it back before his folks found him gone and he got grounded. Ruined his life, he did.”
“And a lot of others’,” Vivian commiserated. Her heart ached for Nash and what he’d gone through. “So he kept her horse in her memory?”
“That’s right. He sold off all the animals after that, except her. He treats that horse like his child. She’s spoiled rotten, but I’d say she loves him almost as much as she loved Carlene.”
Thinking back to the day she’d broken down on the side of the road, and he’d ridden to her rescue, Vivian said, “I think I’ve seen it before. Maxine.”
“Big brown beauty, white sunk stripe down her nose, fire in her eyes?”
“Yep, that’s her,” Vivian confirmed. She could still picture how he’d ridden up, full-steam, to that fence. Nash had been as majestic as the horse itself, but it hadn’t been the horse she’d been focused on that day.
“It took him a while to get that beast to trust him enough to let him ride her. But I always thought he and Maxine bonded over their mutual loss. Death has a way of bringing people—and animals, I guess—together.”
