"That's good to hear," he said. "I wouldn't want to have wanted to stir things up with the two of you."
I was beginning to realize that Stan was as bad as one of the old ladies down at the hair salon, meddling in my personal life. I couldn't tell if he was trying to get Cade and I together, or warn me off of him.
Stan studied me carefully. “I fought in ‘Nam. I drifted for a while when I came back, was a little lost there for a bit. Got mixed up in some bad stuff.”
“What happened to change things for you?”
“Meeting Cade's mother is what happened to me,” Stan said. “She gave me a reason to live, a reason to get my head out of my ass.”
I walked over to the bucket, dipped my brush in the paint, returned to the porch. I didn't have a response for that. Was he comparing Cade and I to him and Molly?
Stan waited a while before he spoke again. "I've seen the way Cade looks at you. It's the same way I used to look at his mother."
“What?” My voice caught in my throat. No, that wasn’t right. Stan was mistaken. Cade did not have feelings for me. “But – but you’re the one who warned me away from him. When he first got here.”
Stan nodded. “I was wrong to say that.”
No.
I was not Cade's savior.
We did not belong together.
When I didn't respond, Stan finished his piece of the railing in silence, then wiped his hands on his jeans. "How would you feel about taking a ride tomorrow?"
"Me?" I asked. "Stan, I haven't been on a horse in years. I haven't ridden since I left West Bend."
Stan nodded. "I know you haven't, June. We took Sassy for you. She only passed on a couple years ago, right after Molly died. She was a gorgeous horse."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Sassy was just a colt when I'd left here. I'd bought her with my savings, two years worth of summer earnings before my parents would agree to chip in and let me buy her. Cade had helped me train her, the whole year before I’d left West Bend. I’d been raised around horses, sitting on the back of horses before I could ride a bicycle, but Sassy was special because she was entirely mine. When I’d had to leave her behind, I was devastated. I’d lost everything, and to lose her too, was too much.
"I know," I said. "My aunt mentioned it. I'm really grateful."
"You know she had a colt," Stan said.
"She did?" No, I didn't know.
"Yep," he said.
"I haven't been able to ride, Stan," I said. "I don't even know if I can anymore."
And I'd only even gone near the barn once since I'd been back here, too. To yell at Cade.
Stan nodded. "A mare," he said. "We named her Missy. She's that blue roan over there by the water trough. You should come by tomorrow and we'll get you saddled up."
"I don't know, Stan,"
"What's that old cliché?" Stan asked. "Get back in the saddle and all that?"
I couldn't tell if we were still just talking about riding.
"I'm calling in a favor," Stan said. "My back's been acting up lately, and riding out to the ridge to check on cattle is starting to get tough on me. Now, I was thinking that I might be able to have you ride out sometimes, when my back's real bad."
I narrowed my eyes. Stan looked just fine to me.
Stan set his paintbrush down, walked toward the porch steps. "If you wouldn't mind helping out an old man, I'd be mighty appreciative," he said as he started walking down the steps. "Time to get back on the horse."
I sighed. Stan had a way of making it so you couldn't say no.
I slipped a ratty tee shirt over my head and pulled my hair back into a ponytail, tucking the stubborn wayward strands behind my ears. Sliding my cowboy boots on, I looked at myself in the mirror. My arms were already tan from working on the house outside in the sun, and my face was starting to develop a rosy glow it lacked when I moved back here from Chicago, where I’d been inside the majority of the time. I was looking more and more like a local, and surprisingly quickly. It almost looked like I'd never left this place.
Inside the barn, my heart raced. It had been a lifetime since I'd ridden. I felt simultaneously thrilled and terrified. What if I couldn't remember how to ride?
Stan was standing outside the stall, tying off a lead rope. "Afternoon, June."
I heard Missy neigh, and I realized I felt just as skittish as she sounded. "I don't know, Stan. Maybe it's not the greatest idea."
"Come on over and meet her," he said. "She's been waiting for you."
"Hey there, girl." I ran my hand along Missy's face, then down her neck, listening to her heavy breathing and the swish of her tail. I breathed in deeply, the smell of the barn that had been so familiar in my youth. Standing there now was like taking a step back in time.
I didn't expect the flood of memories that came rushing back.
~
My sister tossed her head back, long blonde hair falling in curls down her shoulders, nudged the horse with her foot, and I watched her take off at a canter.
"Wait, Abby!" I called. I was still nervous, unsure of myself, afraid I would fall.