Home to Wind River

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Bad break?”

  “Nah. Greenstick. It was a vertical crack in my upper arm bone.”

  “Your poor father must have been scared.”

  “He was. So was my mother, who was shooting me with her movie camera.”

  “What did you learn from that?”

  She saw amusement gleam in his eyes. “Put a saddle on the pony and don’t ride bareback.”

  Lily warmed beneath the intimate look he gave her. “I like finding out about you, Jake. About the normal things you did as a kid.”

  “What about you? Did you have any pets?”

  “My parents always had a lot of cats who kept the rats and mice to a minimum on the farm. And we always had a dog around. I guess that’s why I love volunteering over at the animal shelter.”

  “Because you miss having a dog in your life?”

  “Yes. In Afghanistan, there were starving mutts in every village. I wrote to my mom and asked her to send me ten pounds of dried dog food so I could give them some food. I always carried a Ziploc of kibble in one of the pockets of my trousers.”

  “You’re such a softy.”

  It was her turn to grin because she knew he was teasing her. Oh, how she longed for this kind of honest communication with Jake. She knew something had changed today at the corral but wasn’t sure what it was until now. He seemed far more relaxed with her, almost wanting to find out more about her on a personal basis. “Softhearted.” She opened her hands. “Before the village was overrun by Taliban, I always looked forward to helping the women, the children and the dogs.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t have a dog right now.”

  “I want one, but when I couldn’t stay at my parents’ home to heal, I knew I didn’t have room in my life for a dog.” Her voice lowered. “Honestly, I felt like I couldn’t even take care of myself properly. How was I going to take care of a dog that relied on me to feed and take care of her?”

  Jake’s mouth thinned for a moment, thinking over her words, which were laced with embarrassment. “Lily, you’re in your first year of trying to deal with PTSD. Don’t be ashamed you can’t do everything you used to do.”

  “Did you?” she challenged.

  “I was a hot mess when I left the corps. I wouldn’t stay at Jenna’s home because I had flashbacks and nightmares all the time. I visited a few days and then got a motel room. I was afraid she’d find me out, and I knew she wouldn’t understand what I’d gone through or the demons I wrestle with to this day. I knew she’d try, but no one who hasn’t been there, done that, is going to truly get it.”

  “I felt the same way with my parents. I love them dearly, and I tried to stay home and be normal . . .”

  “Whatever the hell normal is,” he growled, closing his notebook. Looking at the watch on his thick, hairy wrist, he said, “Let’s hit the sack.”

  He was right. Normally, by nine p.m. the cabin quieted down, and by no later than ten, Lily was in bed. “You’re right.”

  “Listen, one more thing. I had one of my wranglers come in earlier today and set up a buzzer system between your and Jenna’s bedrooms. You’ll find a small radio on your bed stand. Jenna has one, too. I already showed her how to press the top of it to send a signal to yours. Now I think both of you can sleep with your bedroom doors closed at night.”

  Shocked, she stared at him. She almost asked whether he’d heard her screaming. It was too shaming for her to blurt out. “That’s nice, Jake. A good idea. Thank you.”

  Rising, he said, “I always sleep better if my door is closed. Good night . . .”

  Chapter Eight

  June 26

  A few weeks later, Lily found herself standing off to one side in the concrete aisle of the barn. In the ties was beautiful, huge Checkers.

  “He’s so big, Jake,” she whispered in awe, glad he was standing nearby. Lily could feel the heat of his body, the scent of sweet-smelling alfalfa swirling around her. She didn’t try to hide her excitement. At last, they had found a window of time on Tuesday morning to begin to teach her how to take care of a horse properly, as well as learn how to ride one.

  She glanced up at him, the shadows across his rugged-looking face as he cut a glance downward to her. This morning, at nine a.m., the sky was clear, the sun bright and it helped make this a special outing for her.

  “Fifteen hands high,” he agreed. “But horses are taller than Checkers. Thoroughbreds can be sixteen or even seventeen hands high,” and he put his hand up. “Where my hand is? That would be the back of a sixteen-hand-high horse.” He changed it, moving another four inches upward. “Here? That’s the back of a seventeen-hand-high horse.”

  Gasping, she told him, “I can’t imagine that! How do you climb on them to ride them?”

  He chuckled. “With a long set of legs.”

  “I’m too short to do that.”

  “Naw.” He cupped her elbow and led her closer to Checkers, whose eyelids were drooped half closed. He was a gentle gelding and perfect for Lily, who seemed like an excited nine-year-old. His heart bloomed with emotions he didn’t want to feel. Around Lily, he just sort of started unraveling, and he had no way to stop it. This morning, her blue eyes shone with such life, it took his breath away. Maybe he was seeing her like she used to be.

  “First,” he told her, “Checkers comes from that box stall across the way,” and he pointed toward the oak door that had been slid open. “You’ll be responsible for putting a lead line on him, bringing him out here and hooking up the panic snaps to his halter so you can inspect him.”

  “Okay,” she said, halting and studying the huge sliding door. All the other wranglers’ horses were already gone for the day. The doors at either end had been slid open much earlier to allow light and fresh air through the huge building.

  She took a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air. She was starting to want more physical contact with Jake. His gloved hand on her elbow was something she hungrily absorbed when it was there, which wasn’t often. Lily sensed that if Jake felt she was in an uncertain situation, like now, he would remain close, hand on her elbow, keeping her reassured. She looked up at him.

  “I have a confession to make to you.” She saw his eyes tentatively narrowed on hers. “I’m not my old, risk-taking self anymore, still trying to gather together my parts and pieces after what happened in Afghanistan. I feel as if you understand how fragile I am right now. I don’t like feeling that way, but I’m learning how to become stronger, and you seem to know that. Do you?” It was the first time she’d asked him such a personal question, unsure of how he would respond to her. This past week, Lily had felt an invisible bond forming between them. And it soothed her, and seemed to allow Jake to let down those walls he hid so well behind. That was speculation, however. She really didn’t know. Searching his expression, she saw the corners of his mouth relax.

  “I guess I’m like a sheepdog whose responsibility it is to keep his flock safe from wolves.”

  “You’ve always been that way with others?”

  He grimaced. “Pretty much. Does it bother you, Lily?”

  “No. You feed me your strength, whether you realize it or not. Right now, I know I’m not at my best.”

  “No one is when they have PTSD, and that’s okay.” He studied her. “Even though you feel vulnerable, your care of Jenna isn’t in question. My mother loves you and I like hearing the two of you laugh and carry on with each other.” He saw the worry leave her eyes. Jake didn’t want her to think she was a burden to him or Jenna.

  “Your mother is the best. I often find myself wishing she could meet my mom. They’re so much alike!” and she grinned fondly, missing being home with her parents, wanting to see them once more.

  “Can you go home to visit them?” he wondered.

  “I will when I’ve grown myself a new shell or shield, so I don’t feel like raw meat out here,” and she gestured around the barn. “I told them that I had to get a handle on myself, that I was kind of on a journey of inner self-discov
ery.”

  “They understood that?”

  “Mostly. You know yourself you can’t lay your combat experiences on a civilian. There’s just no way to bridge that divide. Or at least,” she murmured, giving a sad shrug, “I haven’t been able to.”

  “It’s the same for all military who come home. It’s an impossibility. I wish there was a way. It would help Jenna understand my . . . well ... the eccentricities she’d never seen in me while I grew up.”

  “Jenna loves you dearly. I hope you know that. She talks about you all the time, telling me so many wonderful stories about your childhood in Casper.” She saw him roll his eyes and she laughed. “Oh, they’re great stories, Jake! She’s so proud of you. Her whole life revolves around you.”

  “She does love me, despite my grouchy self,” he admitted in a growl.

  “You aren’t unlovable,” she pointed out archly, “despite what you might think about yourself. I see you doing good things for others all the time. Look what you’re doing for me.”

  “You’re a special case,” he muttered, nudging her toward the tack room.

  Lily felt special, but she didn’t have the courage to tell Jake that. The fact that he’d opened up to her in such a personal way thrilled her.

  He dropped his hand from her elbow at the door of the tack room, indicating for her to go on in. The wonderful, warm scent of clean leather, from the saddles hanging on the wall, the bridles and the martingales, surrounded her. She loved the combined scents of the alfalfa hay bales that were stacked up on the second floor of the barn above them and the leather. For the next few minutes, Jake showed her around. When finished, he picked up a small wooden toolbox, handing it to her.

  “Checkers is next. This is your grooming box. Let’s go out and get started.”

  Already, Lily could feel her anxiety dissolving. It was an amazing experience, as Jake showed her where to set down the toolbox, away from Checkers. He proceeded to show her how to walk and work around the big horse, who stood calmly, almost asleep standing in the ties. She learned to lift each of his massive hooves to clean out the frog on each with a hoof pick. She laughed a little nervously, but all Checkers did was switch his tail, eyes closed, trusting her with himself. Never had she felt such a rush of joy and hope since Afghanistan. And Jake was right there, her shadow. She could feel the warmth of his body close to hers, guiding her hand or supporting her wrist as she wrestled with the weight of that first hoof as she learned how to hold and clean Checkers’ feet.

  “Okay, you did good,” Jake praised later, picking up the toolbox. “Excellent on brushing him, too. Now it’s time to learn how to saddle this dude.”

  Lily followed Jake into the tack room. He showed her the nameplates above each set of saddles and bridles. Luckily for her, Checkers’ huge, heavy saddle was at her height and she carried it, all thirty pounds of it, through the door and set it on its horn on the concrete floor. Jake brought along the horse’s bright red, heavy wool blanket. In no time, she learned the proper way to place the blanket on his high withers and slide it back a bit with the grain of his fur. She struggled a lot to get the saddle up and over his back, but she was bound and determined to do it. She couldn’t ride if she couldn’t take care of the gelding properly, and Jake knew that as well as she did.

  It took nearly an hour for her to do everything the first time.

  “You’ll get faster each time,” Jake promised her, giving her a pleased look.

  Dusting off her hands after putting the toolbox in the tack room, she patted Checkers’ sleek neck. The gelding flicked his ears, liking her touch. “Do we have time to ride? I know you have a lot to do.”

  “We’ll unclip him from the ties and you’ll lead him out to that corral down there,” and he pointed out the opened barn doors. “Today, you’ll learn to mount, dismount and then you can ride him at a walk for a bit within the corral.”

  Excitement thrummed through her. “That’s great! Thank you! I can hardly wait to get in that saddle!”

  Jake nodded and showed her the safe and proper way to lead a horse out of the barn. Lily’s cheeks were a bright red because she’d been working hard. She probably didn’t weigh over a hundred and thirty pounds, and hefting a large, bulky, thirty-pound saddle wasn’t easy for her. But she did it. He liked seeing the grit in her expression, the determination to get Checkers ready for the ride. That said something good about Lily’s heart and drive, even if she felt as if she were falling apart as she struggled to rebuild her strength and confidence. It made Jake admire her even more than he did already.

  He had her lead Checkers to the center of the thick, sandy arena. Around them were wranglers coming and going. People who rented the many small log cabins wandered around or were in other arenas, getting ready for a trail ride. As the sun rose higher, it got warmer. Lily had been wearing a heavy denim jacket, but she took it off and hung it over the pipe rail of the fence. He tried to ignore her dark green, long-sleeved T-shirt because it outlined her body beautifully. Her hair was drawn up in a ponytail, swishing between her shoulder blades, the sun catching some of the caramel strands and highlighting them. It seemed the more she successfully managed horse protocols, the more confident she became. Jake tucked that observation away because he knew confidence was an antidote to feeling frail. Maybe working with a horse, being around one, was the kind of healing she needed. He wasn’t sure, but it was an observation to remember.

  After several failed attempts, Lily climbed into the saddle. The first try, she hit Checkers in the rump with her foot, not lifting it high enough.

  Checkers just flicked one ear back, patiently standing quietly.

  The second time, she couldn’t get the swing of hopping on one leg, the other foot in the stirrup. She ended up falling under Checkers’ massive body.

  Checkers didn’t move. Jake helped get her to her feet. She brushed the sand off herself.

  The third time, Lily puckered her lips, focused and got into the saddle. Thrilled, she threw up both her hands and gave a yip of joy.

  Checkers snorted, as if to praise her gumption, but he didn’t move.

  Jake laughed for the first time in a long time. Lily beamed from the saddle, picking up the leather reins, smiling so big that all he wanted to do in that crazy moment was sweep her into his arms and kiss her breathless. Overpowering in his desire, he quickly reined himself in, realizing how effortlessly Lily had crawled in to claim his barricaded heart.

  She couldn’t know any of this, he decided. Jake understood, as few could, how long her healing was going to take. And many never made it to the point he had either. There was no relationship in her life, he was sure. Just as there wasn’t in his. But now, he ached to have this laughing, giggling woman in his arms, warm, soft and willing. He already knew from their earlier conversations that she regarded him as more than just any old man in her life. No, a couple of times, Jake swore he saw yearning in her eyes, but then the look would disappear. His heart wanted to see that look again.

  Jake walked over to her, gently nudging her fingers and the reins so she held them properly, with the correct amount of tension between the horse’s mouth and her hands. He then affixed the toes of her tennis shoes, now caked with golden brown, sugarlike sand, so her toes pointed forward, toes up and heels down. That was the correct way to keep her calves against the horse’s barrel. He pointed out that the position also forced her knees to push inward on the fenders, to help keep her in the saddle at different gaits. Lastly, he had her flatten her thighs against the horse, thereby allowing her legs to hold her for a proper riding carriage. Lily automatically sat straight in the saddle, shoulders back, a natural pose because of her military background.

  She looked relaxed and confident. Stepping away, he told her about neck reining, a western tradition, laying one rein against the animal’s neck and turning the horse in the opposite direction. The reins were her steering wheel. Lily burst out laughing over that analogy, but pretty soon, she found out the driver’s wheel was reall
y about those two reins.

  For the next twenty minutes, Jake had her walk Checkers around the arena first one way, turning him around and then going in the other direction. The pinto was amenable, and Jake could tell he was paying close attention to Lily’s hands. He did exactly as she wanted. The profound awe in her expression never ceased to tear at his heart. Never did she stop smiling or leaning over and enthusiastically patting Checkers’ neck. The horse loved all the attention, snorting and tossing his head a bit, letting her know he enjoyed her touch. Jake would, too, and he tried to tamp down more sensual and sexual visions that wanted to crowd into his head. He wouldn’t go there. Lily didn’t deserve that from any man. Not even him. She was in the midst of a life-changing healing curve, and there was no way he was going to mess with it or hurt her progress in lieu of his own selfish desires and needs.

  “That’s enough,” he called. “Bring Checkers into the center and stop him near me. Dismount.” Jake nearly laughed again when he saw her lower lip push out in a genuine pout, making her look sultry, and oh so comely to him. Her cheeks were blazingly pink, her hair mussed by the riding, making her look wild and desirable. When she pulled Checkers to a stop, he watched with pride as she dismounted correctly the first time.

  “Ugh!” Lily yelped, grabbing the saddle leather, looking down at her bowed legs. “I can hardly stand!”

  Chuckling, he said, “Your legs have never wrapped around a barrel of something so large. That’s what we call bowlegged.”

  Laughing, Lily worked to move her legs around, trying to get them to straighten. “I always wondered why some cowboys had legs that bowed out instead of standing up straight.”

  “Now you know their secret. Here, hand me the reins.” He held out his hand as she took the looped reins over Checkers’ head, stretching and leaning up to do it. Jake knew the movements would help her legs adjust to being on earth instead of floating in air around a horse’s back. And sure enough, by the time she’d done that, her legs were no longer bowed out. He took the reins.