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Ivan’s nose flares and I can hear his foot pound against the floor. His mane is long and curly, and he’s just about the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen - even if he did try to bite my nipple.
“I can’t believe someone would mistreat a horse as beautiful as this.” I look at him in wonder. There’s something innately ethereal about him, the way his intelligent eyes watch me. His nose opens wider as if to inhale whether I am a threat to him or not.
“Not all people are horrible.”
“I think you’re being too kind,” I tell her.
“Some people just don’t know how to care for them.” Ivan nudges her hand, and she smiles at him. Her face lights up as he nibbles at the remnants of peppermint in her palm.
“He looks like he could easily crush you.”
“He’s a gentle giant.” She reaches inside her pocket and pulls another peppermint out. This time when he takes it from her, he sucks on the mint like a human, causing me to laugh.
Sasha’s phone rings and she eagerly grabs it from her back pocket.
“Grandpa John?” she says into the phone.
I give her a questioning look as her expression darkens, and then she switches it to speaker.
“Fire department closed the road. They’re only letting residents out, not in. You need to get out of there now.” His voice is stern, yet filled with concern.
“I can’t leave the horses,” Sasha says in a panic. Her attention turns to Ivan, and I can see the desperation bubbling up inside of her.
“I know you wanna save the horses, but if I can’t get the trailer back there then you have no choice.” His voice is still stern, but with an edge of softness as he tries to coax his granddaughter to think of herself.
“The fire’s not here yet. There’s a chance it won’t come this far.” She’s making excuses, but we both know she’s grasping at straws as we look at each other.
“The Santa Ana winds can change all that in a heartbeat. You know that, Sunshine.”
He’s right.
I knit my eyebrows together in concern as I watch Sasha crumble internally. It makes me want to hold her, to protect her, to let her know that I will not leave her.
As tears well up in her eyes, she says almost as if it’s an apology, “I can’t leave them.”
“Sasha!” He says her name in a tone rife with warning.
She lifts her eyes from the phone to me, and between us is a silent conversation.
There’s no way I’m leaving her, and there’s no way she’s leaving these horses.
She lowers the phone between us, ending the call unceremoniously.
“Where’s your water hose?” I ask.
22
A SIMPLE MAN
SASHA
Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Ikeep checking my phone for news, trying not to run down the battery. There’s a charger and electricity in the barn, but I don’t know how long that will last. The smell of campfires floats eerily on the breeze. I know the horses can sense it. Their noses flare, their eyes are wild, and they’re kicking their stalls because they want to run. I can understand their sense of urgency to get as far away from this impending threat as possible. I do my best to keep them calm by whispering to them, running my hand down their flanks, and giving them little bits of treats.
Cash has been outside for hours, soaking the roof of the house and then the sides of the barn until his arms give out, succumbing to exhaustion. When I offered to take over, he shook his head and said it was the best he could do. There’s nothing left to do but wait.
Wait until the fire knocks on our door, singeing every last wooden board my great grandpa nailed together, and destroy the only picture I have of my mom right before she died. The thought is enough to spark tears in my eyes. I never met her, never got to place my hand on her cheek or feel the softness of her hair or know what she smelled like.
