Nameless

by Marni MacRae

  ‘You see, Master Thornton paid top dollar for The Beast. More than any horse in his stable, and he had some great winners in there. But he had seen something in Beast and willingly shelled out twice his worth just to make sure no one outbid him. When the horse came here, bolting from the trailer into the training pen, he ran.

  “Ran? Away?”

  “Oh, no. He just ran. In circles, as fast as he could. For two hours. Now if you know horses at all, you would call me a liar. No horse can run at that pace for two hours and not drop. Not damage himself permanently. Not like Beast did. But I am telling you like it happened. He ran. And ran and ran. And we all watched him. We gathered round the training pen, all the stable hands, and even the gardeners came to watch. And Master Thornton, glowing like a proud father. We watched him run like the devil was inside him, spurring him in his soul.”

  I say nothing. I just close my eyes and listen to Ezra’s tale, smelling the warmth of summer, watching a horse speed through the heat and dust, men engrossed in awe.

  “When that horse stopped, it was on a dime.” Ezra’s voice softened in awe, as if he were there again, seeing the spirit of The Beast, the speed, and magic of him. “I was leaning against the rail. I’d been in the same spot since he sprang out of that trailer. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. For two hours, I had watched him run. I knew every muscle in his body, every nuance of his stride. I had looked for weaknesses and found none, but I knew two things for certain.”

  I don’t ask, I just stare at Ezra, waiting for him to tell me what he knew. I have to know it, too, so captured by this man and his tale.

  “I loved that horse.” He said it as a fact, as if it was simply law and unquestionable. “And,” He turns his pale blue eyes to mine, full of fire and life. “I had to ride him.”

  I smile, huge and full, and let out a laugh. “Yes!“

  Ezra laughs, too, and nods once. “So, leaning against the top rail, hanging over to get as close to him as I could as he raced by again and again, I could smell him, feel the sweat flying off him as he passed. And I connected. He went by on a pass, and I caught his eye. He focused on me and missed his first step. After that long of nothing but grace and speed. And he turned. Wheeled back on his hind legs and stopped. Right there. As if he had never been moving. He stood in front of me like I had a rope on him, and that was that.”

  “That was what?”

  “He was mine.”

  Ezra winks at me. Winks. And I burst out laughing.

  “So, you raced him?”

  “Oh, yes. No one else could get on him. Master Thornton brought in dozens of riders, paying top dollar just to try and get them to go around once. But no one could even mount him.”

  “But you.”

  “Yes. But for me. My father trained The Beast while I rode him. Master Thornton saw he had no choice but to let me ride if he wanted to enter The Beast in the races. So, I became a jockey.”

  “Did you win? “

  “Every race,” Ezra says proudly.

  I ache to ask more. I want to pry and see the details, the races, and ultimately how he got injured and stopped racing. But I sense he is done telling his story. And I want to leave it at this moment. The happy chapter of racing and winning and a young man and his horse.

  “I wish I had met The Beast,” I say quietly, reaching over and giving Ezra’s hand a squeeze. “I bet he was something to behold.”

  “Indeed, Miss Eve. He was.”

  Ezra smiles fondly and reaches over to cover my hand with his. Giving it a little pat. “Now you go on and talk to your doctor. Ms. Thornton will be missing us soon.”

  He resumes his butler mask, but I catch a hint of sparkle in his blue eyes now. I hope he will tell me more in the future.

  “Thank you, Ezra.”

  “Miss?”

  “For sharing. For telling me a story of your past. I have no memories of my own to share.” I shrug and smile slightly. “I enjoyed your telling very much.”

  Ezra doesn’t speak for a moment, and I catch a flash of pity in his eyes before it is replaced with warmth.

  “I hadn’t thought of you not having your own memories. That must feel…empty. I’m glad you enjoyed the tale of The Beast. It has been too long since I have spoken of it.”

  He clears his throat and looks away. I have a feeling he left out a big part of the story and hope one day he trusts me enough to share that part, too.

  “Ezra?”

  “Yes, Miss Eve.”

  “Will you teach me to ride?”

  “Oh.” He looks surprised and glances at me, summing up my size, perhaps measuring my worth or ability to sit a horse. His scrutiny continues as he sits quietly, and I take heart in him not rejecting my request offhand. I don’t know if I have ever ridden a horse or even seen one in person. But after hearing Laurel and Tuck talk of them and now Ezra’s telling of his history, I very badly want to try.

  Another moment passes while Ezra thinks and measures me. I wonder if this is how he looks at a horse—sizing it up, determining its worth. Finally, he nods curtly.

  “I haven’t been to the stables in too long. With Ms. Thornton’s permission—and the doctor’s—I’ll teach you, Miss. On one condition.”

  “Really?” I’m surprised and overjoyed he has agreed, ready to accept any terms to be taught by a master horseman to sit a horse. “Name it. Anything.”

  “You will obey me completely, without question.”

  I look into his eyes and see that he is serious. His eyes are stern, but filled with concern, and I know that he has only my best interests at heart. It’s not a power play or a need for control. Ezra will teach me to ride safely and competently. It’s only logical I give over the power to him.

  “Of course, Ezra. Your word is law.”

  I hold out my hand, and he envelops it in his large, warm grasp. We both nod as we shake, and then I smile, full of the thrill of his tale and vibrating with all the opportunity the future holds.

  * * *

  Returning home an hour later, I again marvel at the grand structure of the Thornton estate. It rises before us like a sprawling castle as we draw closer, slowly following the long drive to its end. I find myself picturing what it must have looked like fifty years ago. The brick lane filled with cars for a gala or the sound of horses in the back pastures, trainers and riders getting ready to compete in races. It must have been thrilling.

  Ezra had remained quiet for the drive home, but this time the silence felt companionable rather than a wall between us. It’s like we share a secret, the story of Beast and the promise to teach me to ride. When we pull to a stop in front of the carriage house, I turn to Ezra and release my seat belt.

  I want to say thank you again, to remind him of his promise so he doesn’t forget, but he’s looking ahead at the carriage house. I briefly wonder if he sees it as it had been, once full of carriages or cars, not converted into a home as it is now. Impulsively I lean over and hug him. Just a brief squeeze from the side, then release him and open my door, stepping out onto the old cobblestones of the drive. Before I close the door, though, I lean down and give him a smile.

  “See ya, racer,” I whisper and catch a chuckle before I softly shut the door, and he pulls away. The garage is a more modern structure than the main house, built in the back by the gardens. As Ezra winds around the drive to park, I watch him go, then turn and slowly walk to the front door of my lovely home.

  I hold the brown leather-bound book Valerie had given me in my hand, and as I open the front door, my mind returns to my visit with Dr. Leesing. I decide I will spend the remainder of the afternoon writing in the journal and try to sort through what I know and what I don’t. Hopefully, organizing myself in such a way will help to fill in some blanks and tease out more of me I haven’t yet discovered. I wish I had a past like Ezra, or Elizabeth. Grand adventures and history to share.

  But my adventure is just beginning. I smile at the thought and then give a little shriek as ringing pierces the air j
ust as I am shutting the door. I give a nervous laugh when I realize it is the phone on the table at the base of the stairs, but I cringe again when it lets out another long peal. I hurry to retrieve the handset, but when I pick it up and place it to my ear, the phone rings again. I stare at the black box on the table and then pull the phone from my ear and give it a glare.

  “How do you work?”

  The phone rings again, and I jump, agitated, startled, and becoming flustered.

  “Um…let’s see.”

  I look at the buttons on the handset and see one that says “Call,” another that says “End,” and then the familiar numbers below. One to zero. Again, the ringing peals out in the foyer, echoing off the walls, and I frantically jab at the button marked “Call.” Quickly placing it back on my ear, I listen and stumble through a greeting.

  “Um…yes? Hello? Is this working?” I pull it from my ear again and stare at it, but the black box doesn’t ring again, so I must have pushed the correct button. Or broke it. I place it back on my ear, muttering about the craziness of electronic things. “I think I broke it.”

  “No, Eve, the phone is working. Can you hear me?”

  The sound of Nick’s voice melts me, and I sink down into a plush wingback chair next to the phone table. “Oh, Nick!”

  I can hear the relief in my voice, and he laughs into my ear.

  “Yes. Did you have trouble with the phone?”

  “No, well, yes. But it seems to be fine now, just figuring out the buttons.” I’m embarrassed by my obvious ignorance of something that is probably simple to everyone else on the planet.

  “I’m glad you answered.” His voice is lovely and feels intimate, pressed against my ear as if we were speaking inside each other’s minds.

  “I just got in actually.” I smile even though I know he can’t see me. “You were right. Dr. Leesing is a wonderful lady. I think the counseling will help.”

  “I’m glad, Eve. It always helps to talk to someone. Especially when they aren’t directly involved and will give honest advice.”

  “Yes, I agree. I have some tasks she gave me. I plan on spending some time on that this evening before dinner with Elizabeth.” I want to ask if he is going to come over to visit later, but I know he’s been spending a lot of time with me and I don’t want to be greedy. I bite my lip as there is a pause in the conversation, and then I hear him clear his throat.

  “I’m really glad to hear you made progress with Valerie. I went this afternoon as well.

  “You did?”

  “I promised I would.”

  I hear the warmth in his voice and smile again. “Yes, you did. Was she helpful to you, too?”

  “Yes, actually.” He doesn’t expand further on the subject, but I don’t mind when he switches topics. “I thought I would come by in the morning and pick you up to give you a tour of the job site. See if you still want to take the cleaning job.”

  ‘Oh, that sounds perfect. I’m looking forward to seeing the homes you’re building. I’ve been curious about how it’s done.”

  “Ah, I sense a pile of questions to be answered.”

  “Maybe a few. I’ll try to keep it under a dozen.”

  “That would be disappointing.” I hear him laugh, the sound tickling at my ear and heating my blood. “I can’t imagine there will be less than a hundred or two.”

  “That depends on how interesting your homes are.” I quip. But I’m not mad, he’s right. I ask a lot of questions, and I love his answers. Nick is always honest with me and tries to give me thorough, yet understandable, explanations.

  “Touché. How does eleven sound? That should give us enough time for the tour with plenty to spare to change before the barbeque.”

  ‘That sounds perfect.” I don’t ask what touché means. Perhaps I will bring it up at dinner. Elizabeth will explain it to me.

  There’s a lapse in the flow of conversation, and I don’t know what to say next. Talking on the phone is different than in person. The connection and personal touch of body language, the visual and physical sense of Nick is missing, and it feels suddenly awkward.

  “Well, then, I’ll see you at eleven. Have a good evening, Eve.”

  “Thank you. You, too. See you then.”

  There is silence, then a click in my ear, and I realize the call is over. I decide right then I don’t like phones. I feel robbed somehow of a proper goodbye, of the human touch of communicating in person.

  Replacing the handset on the base, I pick up the brown journal and rummage through the little drawer in the table the phone sits on. Finding what I am looking for, I sit back in the chair and place the tip of the pen on the first page.

  Things I know: I don’t like phones. Or Pepsi.

  Chapter 20

  I spent a day without her.

  I have to admit to myself it was healthy. After my appointment with Valerie, I went back to work and went over blueprints. I double-checked each site, being careful not to step on my foreman’s toes or rile up Mike who reminds me of his position if I linger on a site. I decided my decision to find someone to handle the office work so I can be in the field more is a good plan.

  After spending a couple of hours amongst the smell of lumber and the feel of construction, my thoughts had unscrambled, and I felt more like myself than I had in months. This business with Eve aside, I’ve been going down a dreary road of paperwork for far too long.

  Once the sites wrapped up and all the men went home to their families or off to have a cold beer, I had wrangled Lee into keeping his promise.

  “Dude, mud wrestling is so eighties. How about we just go shoot some pool and take the evening off?”

  We stomped through the mud that was finally starting to cake and dry after the morning drizzle, heading to the warehouse behind my office.

  “Ah, so you can tell Anabel you slaved away helping me with siding and get brownie points?”

  “Hey, I don’t need brownie points. Ana adores me. She adores me because I’m awesome. But, yes. That’s the gist of it.”

  “Sorry, bro. Barbeque tomorrow so I gotta get this done now. But if you’re too awesome to slave away pushing buttons on a forklift, then I can manage alone.”

  “I thought you had a crew for grunt work.”

  Lee was just whining because he wanted me to owe him a favor. He’s as bad as Ms. T when it comes to that. Problem is, when he calls in a favor it never balances out. He’ll ask me to work on his jeep over a whole weekend in exchange for one or two hours of running a forklift. I don’t mind though. Lee can be challenging sometimes, but he’s a pro with a lift and still has his certification.

  “Only two of them are up on their paperwork to operate, and one is out with a broken arm.”

  “Oh, yeah, I heard about that.” Lee pushed open the door into the dark interior of the large building and shook his head with a laugh. “Campbell, right? That Rick dude you hired couple months ago?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Wife hit him with a bat?”

  “Well, the story he’s telling is, his wife was trying to hit a bat. With a bat.” I tapped on the lights, and they flickered to life above our heads, illuminating the cavernous space. Lee stops and grabs my arm.

  “Come again?”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. My brother is a gossip and loves the taste of drama. He wouldn’t rest until he got the story.

  “As Rick tells it, he and his wife were, um, well, having relations.”

  “Dude, are you a girl now? You can say sex. You won’t go to hell.”

  “That’s not what Nana says. Anyway, so they were having relations, and a bat came in through a window someone left open. They freak out, cuz you know, that rabies case last year? Well, his wife is terrified it will get caught in her hair and ‘eat her face off.’ Rick’s words. So he grabs a blanket, trying to net it, and she grabs a bat and starts swinging. You can pretty much figure out the end to that story.

  “Duuuude.” Lee walked over to the forklift and clim
bed into the seat, holding his hand out for the keys. I toss them up, and he snatches them neatly from the air. “So, tell me this”—he grinned like a goof from his perch— “did they get dressed before going to the hospital?”

  It hadn’t taken long to get the chore done between the two of us. Then I paid Lee with a few beers at the Moon Brew tavern. After a few games of pool, I had finally been able to not think about Eve for at least twenty minutes. It was a record.

  “I gotta jet, Nick.” Lee clapped me on the back and turned to head out the door.

  “Hey, tell Gabe I want to borrow some movies from him.”

  My brother gave me a quizzical glance but didn’t question it. I’ve been taking Gabe to see all the new Pixar and Disney releases for years.

  “Will do. See ya tomorrow.” With a salute, he pushed out into the night, headed back to a family who adores his awesomeness.

  I envy him that. Younger than me by three years, I was surprised five years ago when Lee had announced he was getting married. He had been a bit of a lady’s man in college, but after meeting Anabel, that was it. They had been crazy about each other from day one, and for all the mock complaining Lee does, I know they’re still madly in love. A happy little family.

  Friday night had been spent on my porch, sipping a cold beer, listening to the crickets. I spent some time digesting the adventures of the week and untangling my feelings concerning Eve. It had been a productive day. Healthy, yes—but I didn’t want another one.

  I can survive a day without Eve, but I don’t want to.

  * * *

  It took forever for eleven o’clock to roll around. I woke up at six, just like every other day. Whipped up a quick omelet. Had three cups of coffee. Ran some laundry. Loaded the dishwasher. And then I sat. I looked out at the lawn, thinking it would be time to break out the mower soon. I puttered in the garage, putting away loose tools. Took out the garbage. Tried to kill time.

  Four hours of that and I was crawling out of my skin. How could the day go by so slow? Finally, I got in the truck and left early thinking I would stop and get a couple of lattes. Plus, I had made a decision yesterday and wanted to stop in town to pick something up for Eve.