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Twelve long hours later, Fitz admitted to himself,that wasn’t so bad.
Actually, it felt downright good to have worked outdoors all day. After unloading the horses, Faith let them graze in the pasture to acclimate to their new home. Otis was let out to meet them, making the next hour highly entertaining as the three adults and Olivia watched the bay gelding greet each newcomer. He took an immediate liking to the mares, but not the other gelding.
As the day grew steadily hotter, the beasts were hosed down to cool off, and the crew took a break, eating sandwiches at the picnic table under a shade tree. Once the horses were all dry, they escorted them back into the cool barn, where Faith’s vet checked over the newcomers. Then Faith taught Fitz how to groom the enormous beasts, while Olivia, perched on the door of the stall, added sage advice.
“Don’t act nervous, or they’ll know it,” stated the almost seven-year-old, “and they’ll try to bite you or squish you against the wall.”
Her mother laughed. “Not these horses, Olivia. They were bred to be docile and trained to protect humans. Fitz will be just fine. But why don’t you keep watch over him and remind him what to do?”
That was how Fitz, who had zero experience with horses, found himself under the direction of a child as he brushed the hide, tail, and mane of a dappled white mare. His awkwardness quickly transformed into pleasure as the repetitive strokes softened the hair under his hands, rewarding his efforts. The mare even took a shine to him, gazing deep into his eyes as he moved around her head. Drawn to her soulful gaze, he gave into the urge to hug her thick neck and felt her rest her head on his shoulder.
In the late afternoon, with the trees throwing shade onto the ground, Faith suggested they each take a horse for a ride to the creek and back. “We’ll stay under the leaves the whole time.”
“Oh,” Fitz caught her eye and shook his head, “I’ve…never ridden a horse.”
Faith smiled. “I promise you’ll be fine. Even Olivia is safe on these horses, not to mention my future patients, most of whom have never been on a horse, either. But if you’d prefer, I’ll guide your mare, and all you’ll need to do is sit there.”
“No, that’s fine.” If her daughter could guide a horse, then he could. “All I need are some basic directions.”
They saddled the horses and mounted up. Watching Faith swing her pregnant frame onto the back of the black horse, Fitz suffered a twinge of concern. Grace gave voice to it.
“Faith, I don’t think you should be riding.”
“We’re not trotting, Grace, just walking. I’ll be fine.”
They guided the four horses out the back gate of the pasture and into the woods beyond it, onto a path that had clearly existed for decades. Riding, it turned out, felt as natural as driving a car—once Fitz got used to being five feet off the ground. The scent of pine and the crunch of needles under the horses’ hooves cloaked him in a haze of peaceful contentment, the likes of which he had never experienced, having grown up in the Bronx. Within ten minutes, the trees thinned, and they came to an open area full of marsh grass, a pier that had seen better days, and a creek. Grayson, who was standing on the pier with his friend, Cameron, turned and scowled at him.
His friend waved at them. “Hey, Mrs. Saunders.”
“Hi, Cameron. Any luck?”
“Nah, it’s too hot. I caught one catfish, but it was too small to keep.”
The hostile look in Grayson’s eyes remained with Fitz as they made their way back. Who could blame the kid for resenting him? He wanted to tell him,Look, no worries. I won’t be sticking around.
But at suppertime, he was still there, even though he’d tried to excuse himself.
Faith had looked so disappointed. “Please, come inside with us and eat. I made a ton of fried chicken. We can’t possibly eat it all ourselves.”
The chicken, it turned out, came with corn on the cob and a Caesar salad. Discovering himself famished, Fitz dug in. “Where is Grayson?” He wondered if the boy was avoiding him.
“He went paintballing with his friend, Cameron.”
“Sounds fun.” His son, Rory, had never experienced paintball—or much of anything besides activities in the private school Fitz had worked his fingers to the bone to pay for.
Olivia cut into his thoughts. “Mommy, can I give the horses new names?” She sent her mother such a pleading look, Fitz didn’t know how Faith could deny her.
“They already have names, honey.”
“But I want to call the white one Blossom because she’s soft and sweet like a flower.”
Fitz agreed. “She’s very sweet. She put her head on my shoulder.”
Faith considered him through eyes as brown and soul-searching as the mare’s. “Let’s call her Blossom, then.”
Olivia sent him a wink, like they were co-conspirators. The past merged with the present. He tried to remember if his daughter Rosie, had ever seemed as fairy-like as Olivia. The memory of her fierce hug around his neck impaled him suddenly, sending a geyser of tears to his quickly averted gaze. As he blinked them away, he was aware of Faith watching him.
