While showing her around, Fletcher had explained that Blackwood Manor raised Thoroughbred and Quarter horses for showing and racing, horses were displayed great foundations and descended from famous bloodlines. At its peak, he said, Blackwood Manor held eighty head of the best stock produced in the state, including their most famous stud, Blue Venture. Julia didn’t understand everything he was talking about, but she appreciated his willingness to educate her. The only thing she knew for sure was that every horse was more beautiful than the last. And she couldn’t believe they belonged to her.
When they reached the end of the center aisle, Fletcher entered the last stall. The horse inside nickered and turned toward him, nostrils quivering. It was black as night, with a glossy mane and a tail that touched the floor. Julia watched over the door as the horse sniffed Fletcher’s shirt and hair, then nuzzled his neck like an overgrown puppy. Fletcher laughed and scratched the horse’s cheeks and neck with both hands. Clearly, they were fond of each other.
“This is Bonnie Blue,” Fletcher said. “Blue for short. She’s your top producer and most valuable mare.” The horse nickered again. “Why don’t you come in and say hi?”
“Who?” Julia said. “Me?”
Fletcher grinned and glanced over her shoulder as if looking for someone. “I don’t see anyone else out there. Don’t worry, she’s gentle as a lamb.”
Julia took a deep breath, unhitched the door latch, and entered the stall. She wanted to pet Bonnie Blue more than anything, but it had been a long time since she’d been near a horse and she knew they could sense fear.
“Put your hand out, palm up, like this,” Fletcher said, demonstrating.
Julia held out her hand and Bonnie Blue sniffed her palm, then rubbed her head on Fletcher’s arm. “I don’t think she likes me,” Julia said.
“Sure she does, don’t you, girl? Watch this.” He took a step back and stood in front of the horse. “Shake, Blue.”
Bonnie Blue lifted her front leg, extending it toward Fletcher. He grabbed her hoof with one hand and shook it like a dog’s paw.
Julia gasped. “Wow. How did you teach her that?”
He let go of Blue’s hoof and scratched her between the eyes. “It was easy. She’s smart. They all are. But Claude wouldn’t be happy if he knew I was teaching her tricks, so let’s keep it our little secret.”
“Okay. But why would he be upset about that?”
“Because it can be dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. Why don’t you give her a scratch and get to know each other. After all, she’s yours now.”
Julia touched the side of Blue’s neck and smiled, inhaling the mare’s wonderful musky smell. Her coat was as slick and soft as it looked. Blue stopped nuzzling Fletcher and gazed at Julia with curious eyes. Then she put her muzzle near Julia’s ear and sniffed, her charcoal-colored nose and lips like warm velvet against Julia’s skin. She blew out a strong breath over Julia’s neck, moving Julia’s hair and giving her the shivers. Then she bumped her massive head against Julia’s shoulder, nearly knocking her over.
Fletcher laughed. “There. You just got the Bonnie Blue stamp of approval.”
Julia smiled and ran her fingers through Blue’s mane. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful horse.”
“She’s pretty special, that’s for sure. And her foals are always perfect.” He moved to Blue’s side. “Come here, I want you to feel something.” He took Julia’s hand, laid it against Blue’s belly, and pushed. Something pushed back. Then Blue’s belly moved in and bounced once, like a rubber ball.
Julia gasped and pulled her hand away. “What was that?”
“Blue’s next foal.” Fletcher winked at her. “And your first one.”
A wide smile spread across Julia’s face. On one hand, it was almost too much to take in all at once—the house, the barn, the horses, the business, a new foal. On the other, it was the most wonderful thing she had ever heard. This foal would be the first born under her ownership. It would belong to her and no one else, not even her parents.
Now, as she sat in front of the roaring fireplace surrounded by legal forms and listening to the house creak and groan, she tried to imagine taking care of the farm and making the right decisions for the horses. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time. The grounds and house were one thing, but Blue and her baby and the rest of the horses were living creatures. How would she ever manage it all? What if one of them got sick or injured and she didn’t see the signs? What if Claude wasn’t around and she didn’t call Fletcher in time? The idea that this was a test crossed her mind again. Maybe Mother wanted to prove once and for all that bad things happened if you didn’t follow the rules. But what Mother didn’t know was that Julia planned on following the rules. Except this time, they were going to be her own.
She tried pushing the worries from her mind and concentrating on the paperwork, but her eyes grew blurry from reading and her head hurt from trying to make sense of everything. She put down the papers and decided to explore instead. She had no idea what time it was, but the sky outside the windows was black. Mother’s key ring beckoned from the end table next to the couch, as if every scrolled bow held the potential to reveal secrets. She stood, picked up the key ring, and started toward the far side of the house, knowing all along Father’s den was the first place she’d go.
Wrapping her sweater around herself, she padded down the hall, switching on lights as she went. The floor creaked beneath her feet and lamplight flickered off the smooth oak paneling and dusty picture lamps above paintings of horses and dogs. How many times had she tiptoed down this hallway as a child after one of Mother’s tirades, hoping her father would let her into the den? How many times had she heard him, throwing things and crying behind the double doors? How many times had she wanted to ask what tormented him? A hundred? A thousand?
She stopped in front of the den and ran her fingers along the engraved oak doors, the hair rising on the back of her neck. What would she find on the other side? Suddenly, she felt like a little girl again, her knees trembling. Mother would surely disapprove of what she was about to do, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, it still felt wrong to invade her father’s space. But, she reminded herself, Mother and Father were dead and gone. Blackwood Manor was hers now, along with everything in it.
She fingered the keys, trying to decide which one to try first. They were all so different. Surely, Mother had them made that way to ensure she’d be the only person who knew which key unlocked which door. A lot of good that did her now. Julia slipped the key with a circular medallion engraved with the letter B into the lock and turned it. The tumblers clicked and the wooden doors creaked inward a few inches. She gave them a gentle push and they swung all the way open, squeaking on their hinges.