The Life She Was Given

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Just leave everything up to me.”

Then, before she knew what was happening, Cole was in front of her, his warm hands on her shoulders. He pulled her close and kissed her long and hard on the lips. At first, she resisted, unsure if he was kissing her out of excitement or something else. Then he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his bare chest against her. Their naked stomachs touched and the strange flutter in her pelvis returned, stronger than ever. He kissed her harder, and she kissed him back, melting into his arms.

This.

This was want she wanted more than anything in the world. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard water splashing as Pepper and Flossie reentered the pond. The balmy night caressed her skin as Cole’s warm hands lowered the straps of her brassiere. Then they were naked in each other’s arms on the grassy bank and Cole moved above her, his wet body skimming hers. She shivered and he looked into her eyes, as if asking permission to kiss her again. She’d always wondered what Glory meant when she said desire was a powerful thing. Now she knew.

She pulled Cole to her and kissed him with an open mouth. He groaned and kissed her lips and neck and breasts and stomach. She trembled and arched her back. He moved up to kiss her neck again and she wrapped her arms around his head. Then they began to make love beneath the stars, while the elephants frolicked and swam in the pond, enjoying their one night of freedom.





CHAPTER 16


JULIA After finding her father’s journal the day after the ice storm knocked the power out, Julia put her father’s barn jacket on over her sweaters and pulled his lined trousers on over her pants. She put on an extra pair of socks and Mother’s boots, then carefully stepped out the mudroom door. Using a fireplace poker to break though the ice-encrusted snow, she slowly made her way across the yard to the barn, hunched over like an old woman with a cane, trying not to slip and fall. If anyone had seen her there, wearing baggy clothes, mens’ gloves, and rubber boots, her hair hanging out from beneath an oversized newsboy cap, they would have thought she was a crazy person escaped from the loony bin.

The crack and crash of breaking trees echoed from the woods across the empty fields like random gunshots, though not as often as they had earlier that morning. Halfway to the barn, she looked toward the tree line beyond the nearest pasture. Nothing broke the surface of the ice and snow. At the back of the property, a low jungle of underbrush and evergreens hung weighed down under inches of ice, like praying monks with giant white hoods.

Suddenly, the stillness was interrupted by a loud whooshing sound, like the roar of rushing water. A huge crash filled the air behind her, like a thousand exploding windows. She jumped and spun around to look at the house, her pulse pounding in her ears. At first, she saw nothing. Then she realized what made the noise. A massive sheet of ice had slid from the roof above the mudroom door and crashed to the ground, shattering on the planters and steps.

If she had been on the steps, the ice would have hit her for sure. She looked up at the steep roof of the house and barn. If she was going to check on the horses without getting struck by a sudden avalanche of loose ice, when she was close to the buildings, she had to hurry.

When she reached the barn, she hammered the office door handle with the fireplace poker to break the ice around it, working as fast as she could before another roof-full of ice gave way. After several good blows, the ice broke free. She tried the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. She shoved her shoulder into the wood several times, until, finally, the ice along the frame split and the door wedged open. She broke the rest of the ice and pushed her way into the office. Even inside the barn, her breath billowed out in the freezing air. She pictured Samantha Blue shivering in the cold, ice hanging from her tiny nostrils, and rushed into the main part of the barn. The horses pushed their heads over their stall doors to see who was there. When they saw her, they whinnied and nickered. She hurried over to the first stall and looked inside. The hay cradle was empty and a thick sheet of ice covered the water trough. With her heart in her throat, she ran down the center aisle toward the empty door of Bonnie Blue’s stall. Why wasn’t she looking out?

When Julia reached the stall, the blood drained from her face. Bonnie Blue was down in the straw, Samantha Blue on her side next to her belly. Julia held her breath and stared at them to see if they were breathing. They weren’t moving. She was too late. She clamped a gloved hand over her mouth to stifle a sob. Then Blue raised her head and blinked. Samantha Blue woke up, lifted her head, then let it fall against her mother’s belly as if she were too tired to get up. Julia let out a sigh of relief and her thundering heart slowed. Samantha saw her and struggled to stand, her long legs stiff and clumsy, like the limbs of a wooden puppet. Bonnie Blue pulled her hooves beneath her, got to her feet, and shook the straw from her mane. She nickered and came over to the stall door.

Julia unlocked the stall and went inside. She smiled and gave Bonnie Blue and Samantha a good scratch and a kiss, then used the fireplace poker to break the ice in the water trough. Blue started drinking immediately while Samantha nibbled at the pocket on Julia’s jacket. Julia scratched her between the ears, gave her and Blue another kiss, then went out to get some hay. The other horses whinnied and kicked at their stall doors.

“Don’t worry,” Julia said to them. “I’m coming.”

She pulled a bale of hay from the stack near the hayloft ladder and tried breaking the strings with her hands, but they were too strong and tight. She dragged the bale out to the aisle, pushed her foot against it to keep it from moving, and tugged a string from one corner with two hands. She had seen Claude undo a bale that way, but it was harder than it looked. Finally, the string came off and the bale loosened. She yanked the other string off and the bale broke into sections, like a deck of thick cards. She picked up the hay slices and divided them between the stalls, then broke the ice in all the troughs. The horses began to eat and drink right away, then thanked her by nudging her with soft noses, nuzzling her neck, and sniffing behind her ears. Remembering what Fletcher said about horses generating heat by eating hay, she broke up ten more bales and divided them between the horses. When she finished, she stood in the center aisle and looked around, finally warm inside her coat. For the first time in her life, she felt loved and needed.

“You’re mine,” she said to the horses. “And I promise to do my best to take care of you from now on.”

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