Anne screamed and held on tighter.
The farther from the barn, the less they could see.
“How far to the swamp?” he shouted over the rain.
“Not sure. Looks different.”
“The rain’s already slacking. Should improve the visibility.”
“But the sun’s going. It’s getting really dark.”
The sky lit up again, but this time the lightning struck north of them. Anne counted. Five seconds. Going away. She heaved a sigh of relief just as Vince drove into an exceptionally deep pothole. A wave of muddy water rode up over the floor of the ATV and drenched her from the knees down. She wiped her sopping shirt across her eyes and mouth, reached into the back seat and picked up one of the hand lanterns.
“Where are the headlights on this thing?” Vince asked.
“Here.” She hit the switch. The windshield wipers, such as they were, couldn’t keep up with the water sluicing down the windshield, so Anne leaned out the side and focused the flashlight ahead of them.
“That helps,” Vince said. Without taking his eyes off the road, leaning forward with his forearms on the steering wheel, he said, “This is my fault.”
“The horses suckered you.” Anne swiveled to look at his silhouette in the little light that remained. She could barely see the outline of his jaw, but it looked as though it belonged on Mount Rushmore.
Vince was right, Anne thought. This was his fault. He knew better than to wade into a spooked herd in the middle of a lightning storm. Or to leave a gate partially open and basically unguarded except by his body. The minis were small, but as Vince had said, they were heavier and tougher than a man, especially when they were in a group. He was lucky he had stayed on his feet. They’d have tried to avoid stepping on him, but in the chaos, he might have been trampled.
“Stop!” Anne shouted. “I remember that split tree from my trail ride with Victoria. This is where it gets gooshy.” She waved the light ahead. “There’s the pole marking the end of the road. It’s fallen off one side. We could have driven right by it and splat.”
Vince picked up the other hand lantern and swept the area ahead of them at the level of a mini’s head.
“Look,” Anne grabbed his arm. “Over there.”
Both knew the problems of locating horses in pasture at night. Their instinct was to stand still so predators would not see movement. Often the only clue to their location was the reflection of a flashlight beam off a pair of equine eyes.
“Turn off the motor,” Anne whispered. He did.
“Yoo-hoo, Molly?” she shouted. “Grumpy? Is that you? Big Mary, you come right on here. Dinner’s waiting. Little Sammy. Harriet. Time to go home. Storm’s over.” She waited. They both listened. No response, but Vince’s light caught flashes from at least two other sets of eyes.
“Time to bring out the big guns,” Vince said. “Treats! Come get your carrots.” He dropped his hand on Anne’s knee. “Quiet.”
Ahead of them came a tentative splash and then another.
Anne assumed Molly would be the first to reach them and was surprised when Big Mary loomed out of the shadows and into the light. Interesting. The boss mare’s job might already have passed from Molly to Big Mary.
Close to Molly’s rear end came Grumpy.
“Stay here,” she said to Vince. “I’ll go stand at the front in the headlights so they recognize me. If I can get halters on Molly and Grumpy, the others should come. Right about now they’ll be feeling pretty embarrassed. They know they screwed up.”
“And they’re hungry.”
She pulled a couple of small carrots out of her britches pockets.
She held a carrot out to Molly, and when she reached for it, snapped the halter closed under her chin.
“I’ll take her,” Vince said. He eased out of the ATV and made his way quietly to the front between the headlights.
Anne repeated the process with Grumpy.
“I am up to my knees in mud,” Anne said.
“Me, too. Let me have the lines. I’ll walk them back behind the ATV. I don’t want to tie them to the bumper. If they try to jerk away they could spook the rest of the herd. See if the others will come.”
The minis took their time, but they came.
“It’s all right, girl,” Anne said as she fed Harriet a carrot and snapped her halter on. She turned to Vince. “Now what do we do? We can’t stand here all night holding these horses. Can you see to turn the ATV around?”
“Not in the dark with all this water. If I had my phone, I could call Victoria to explain the situation. She was going to bring the motor scooter down, but they may be stuck up the road. They’ll have to bring the truck.”
“In this mud? I can’t see but one way out of this, Vince. Each of us takes half of the lines and we walk the horses back to the barn.”
“Do I carry a flashlight in my teeth or use my third hand?” Vince asked. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the headlights are pointing over the swamp, not up the road behind us. Once we’re out of reach of the lights, it’ll be too dark to see the ditches beside the road. I’d rather not fall in or have to pull a drowning mini out.”
“Grumpy, sweetie, come here,” Anne took his line from Vince. “This is your new lesson, Grumpy. How to carry a flashlight tied to your halter. Vince, you’re going to have to hold them all until I get this done. If it works. There’s bound to be at least one Bungee cord in the ATV.” She handed her lines to Vince and scrounged in the box of supplies behind the seat. “Found one. Let’s see if I can make this work.”
After several tries, Anne managed to attach the flashlight to the top of Grumpy’s halter so that it pointed slightly forward rather than straight up. “Not great, but better than nothing.”
Grumpy went to sleep during the process and only woke when he felt the flashlight jiggle against his forehead. He wiggled his ears and snuffled, but didn’t attempt the kind of solid shake that would have knocked it loose. He took a tentative step forward, then decided the thing was not a ravenous leopard on his head and walked with Anne.
“Let me turn the headlights on the ATV off,” Vince said. “They’re doing no good. No sense in running the battery down. I can hold one of the hand lanterns as well as a lead line. Should provide enough light until we hit the pine trees. Ready?”
“Ready,” Anne said. “Good thing they don’t mind being ponied together. I am really learning to love these little guys, you know?”
Their progress was slow. They stumbled into puddles and had to keep forming and reforming their little equine cadre as the outsiders tended to pull away from the insiders.
As fast as it had descended, the remnants of the storm passed to the east. As the clouds fled, an anemic moon peeked beneath the remaining scraps of cloud, but cast little light on the road.
As they rounded the last bend before the pasture fence, they were struck by the beams of two large flashlights.
“Anne, Vince,” Victoria called. “Are you two all right? Did you find any of the horses?”
“We found all of them,” Vince said. “Come get them.”
“Where’s the ATV?” Edward’s voice rose out of the darkness.
“Back on the edge of the swamp where we found the horses,” Anne said. “We couldn’t quite manage to bring it back with us. We were otherwise occupied.”
“Here,” Victoria took Anne’s lines while Edward took Vince’s. “Let’s get the mud rinsed off them and put them in stalls. You missed dinner, didn’t you, you bad children?”
“What caused this in the first place?” Edward asked. “Who the heck let them out?”
“I did,” Vince answered.
“You really didn’t,” Anne said. “Molly and Big Mary ran over you. You’re lucky you didn’t get stomped.”
He glanced at her in surprise. She could easily have thrown him under the p
roverbial bus, but she supported him. Through all the chaos, they had worked together without a cross word between them. He had grown accustomed to taking one step forward, then one step back in their relationship. This was a big step forward. Maybe they could maintain it.
“Now we know how they react in a thunderstorm,” Victoria said. “Another lesson learned. We’ll have to desensitize them to storms as well as crowds and escalators.”
“Fine,” Anne said. “Once you figure out how to create a thunderstorm on command.”
“Good luck with that,” Edward said. “This is why I don’t mess with Victoria’s horses any more than I have to.”
“How’s Glory?” Anne asked.
“Settled down. My word, you’re dirtier than the horses. There are plenty of leftovers from dinner we can feed you, but not until the horses are rinsed off and so are you. Vince, do you need to borrow a pair of Edward’s jeans and a shirt?”
“I’ve always got clean clothes in the van, although if I keep coming over here I’m going to have to add to my backup wardrobe. Thanks anyway. After we get the horses clean and put away I’ll rinse off on the wash rack in the barn. Won’t be the first time. No sense in getting your house muddy.”
“Don’t be silly,” Anne said. “There won’t be enough hot water for you and the horses both.”
“The cold water spigot in the barn comes straight out of the aquifer,” Edward said. “It’s freezing all year long.”
You can use my shower in the cottage,” Anne said.
“I’ll track mud all over.”
“Like I won’t? The cottage is more or less dirt-proof. Go grab your clothes out of the van while I start rinsing off horses.”
“Edward and I will do that, won’t we, darling?” The emphasis on the “darling” carried more than a hint of command.
Edward shrugged. “Yeah, sure. You two, come on up to the house for something to eat when you’re clean.”
* * *
ANNE AND VINCE dropped sodden paddock boots and socks inside the front door of the cottage. “Use my bathroom,” she said. “That way I won’t have to scrub mud out of Becca’s bathroom, too.” She brought him a stack of thick towels the color of peach meringue, opened the first door off the hall and flicked on a light. “That’s the door to the bathroom through there. There’s shampoo and stuff already. Not necessarily the scent you normally use, but at least you’ll be clean. You actually carry another set of boots as well as extra clothes in your van?”
“When I get dirty, I get filthy. Try pulling a calf out of a cow without getting blood on your boots. Don’t you want to go first?”
“Company goes first. Want a beer? Wine?”
“I’d kill for some sweet tea with a ton of ice.”
“You got it. Here, better take your clean clothes with you.” She pointed to the clothes folded on the back of the sofa.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Yell if you need anything you don’t see.”
Vince was a connoisseur of showers. Anne’s measured up well. Plenty of jets, plenty of hot water.
As he soaped up he drew in the fresh scent of Anne—lavender, maybe, with a hint of something spicy—onto his skin and into his nostrils. Edgy, like Anne. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the tile. He felt wrapped in the essence of her.
He wanted to fill all his senses with her.
Even when she was covered in mud, he enjoyed looking at her. He liked the way her blue-green eyes snapped at him when he annoyed her. Or more often when she annoyed him.
She could easily have cussed him out in front of Edward and Victoria for letting the horses escape, but she hadn’t let him take the blame.
He deserved whatever she dished out. He should have gone straight home after dehorning those goats this afternoon. He’d been cross-eyed with exhaustion. That contributed to his screw-up, but it was an excuse, not a reason.
The whole day had been murder. He’d been met at the clinic door first thing by a Great Dane unable to deliver what turned out to be seven puppies without a C-section.
He hadn’t taken a break the rest of the day. He’d never even stopped to grab a candy bar out of the clinic vending machine.
After he’d clipped the horns from the last goat and started his drive back to the clinic, he’d heard the weather report. He hadn’t made a conscious choice. He’d turned right instead of left and headed for Victoria’s place. To help Anne.
Some help he’d been.
Stumbling like that against the partially open paddock gate and knocking it open was a mistake that nearly had nasty consequences. He’d never expected the usually calm minis to make a break for freedom because of a couple of lightning strikes. Big mistake.
He did not make mistakes. If Anne had been responsible for the breakout, he’d probably have yelled at her. If she’d cussed him out right that minute, he’d have deserved it.
She hadn’t. Now that they were alone, she might yell at him, but she hadn’t done it in front of Edward and Victoria. He was grateful for that. It galled him to admit that she’d taken the lead in getting themselves and the horses back unhurt, while he followed her orders.
He normally would not have taken orders from anyone but a more experienced vet. Pretty darned arrogant. Time he started listening more and talking less.
He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair and let the water cascade over his head and shoulders.
Anne was getting to him.
Heck, she had gotten to him the first time he met her. That was unfortunate for both of them. She wasn’t the kind of woman any man could walk away from. He was beginning to worry that he definitely couldn’t. Better to return to their prickly semiadversarial interaction. Safer that way for both of them.
Wanting a woman who wasn’t interested in him was a new experience. He thought he’d be happy about that, but he didn’t like it. Anne didn’t even want to be around him much. He should be grateful. Instead, he was surprised that he was a little hurt.
* * *
OVER AFTER-DINNER DECAF, Anne pleaded exhaustion and walked back to her cottage to sleep. “Tomorrow is ‘take a horse to the nursing home’ day. Good night, everyone, and thanks for your help, Vince.”
“If help is what you call it. See you tomorrow in time to load Tom and get to the nursing home on time.”
He didn’t really want to stay for an extra cup of decaf, but Victoria said she needed to tell him something.
Like most men, he figured “we have to talk” from any woman was a lead-in to a notification of impending disaster.
He sat back down as Victoria filled his cup yet again and said, “What now?”
“Becca’s coming back on Sunday to stay until Friday.”
His shoulders tightened. “Let’s hope she likes Calvin and leaves me alone.”
“We can’t count on her leaving you alone. Calvin’s younger brother, Darrell, is going to start working here three afternoons a week. I didn’t realize how much extra trouble eight small horses could be. If Becca doesn’t like one of the boys, maybe she’ll like the other. Darrell is only a year older than she is. Nice boy.”
“She’ll think he’s too young.”
“He’s a sophomore at Middle Tennessee State in their rodeo program.” She heaved a sigh. “He rides bulls.”
“Oh no.”
“When you were in Wyoming breaking horses, did you ride bulls, too?”
Vince shook his head. “One of the few pieces of usable advice my daddy ever gave me was to stay off bulls. He says it is crazy to climb on a ton and a half of animated steak, hand him eight seconds to try to kill you, then let him keep trying after he’s thrown you in the dirt. He says good bucking bulls are demons. I say it takes one to know one.”
“Oh dear, you’re still not getting along. Barbara hoped that once you were up here...”
“That I’d me
nd fences at home? Not gonna happen.”
“We certainly don’t want to lose you to your family, but Barbara and I both wish things were better for you at home.” She patted his thigh. “You know us Southern women—we like things smooth for our men. She and I both have happy families. We’d love to see you happy, too. Surely your daddy has mellowed.”
Vince laughed so hard he spit his decaf across the table. “Thor Peterson? Mellowed?
“My daddy has so far married four women. He divorced two for adultery. They may or may not have been guilty, but if they were, I don’t much blame them. My mother ran away from both him and me in the middle of the night.”
“Oh, Vince, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s a long time ago.” He shrugged. “Gives me an excuse for being screwed up. His fourth wife, Mary Alice, used to spend a lot of time in Mobile with her girlfriends to get away from him. My brother Joshua says recently Daddy fusses if she wants to meet a girlfriend for lunch away from the farm. Wouldn’t surprise me if he kicked her out too, but not until he’s got number five on his horizon. What’s that old saying about the triumph of hope over experience? His hope is that he’ll browbeat one of them into total submission.”
“Obviously that doesn’t work,” Victoria said.
“Not so far. He keeps marrying strong women. He says the battle for control isn’t satisfying unless he has a worthy opponent.”
“How does he manage to get any woman to give him a second look, much less marry him?”
“He’s rich. He can be charming when he puts his mind to it. My sister-in-law Nicki, Cody’s wife, says he’s good-looking for an old guy. I wouldn’t know. My brother Joshua is divorced once and has separated from his second wife Nell several times. So far, she’s come back. She says she loves him. Cody has kept it together with Nicki, but then, she’s a saint. Joshua says divorce is too expensive, but he would say that. He’s a CPA.”
“And you?”
“Bachelor for life. The only thing I know about marriage is that I never learned to do it.”
“How about love?”
“Don’t believe in it. Not for me, at any rate. People get married because it’s economically advantageous or physically enticing. Whatever love is, it goes away faster than it comes.”
Tennessee Reunion Page 15
