First Bitten

by Samantha Towle

I turn my head to look at him. “You look tired,” I observe.

  “Mmm,” he murmurs, letting his eyes close for a long blink.

  “Why don’t you go to bed? I can stay here with them both,” I offer.

  “Nah, no need.”

  He still doesn’t trust me to leave me alone with them. I thought I’d already proved I have no intention of hurting them. I feel my hackles rise. “I’m not going to hurt them if you leave me alone with them,” I bite, a clear edge to my voice.

  He glances sideways at me, giving me a hard stare. “I know you won’t.” His tone is equally as acerbic as mine. “They’ll be fine on their own. The foal is feeding so I’m happy. We can both go get some sleep.”

  “Oh,” I say, the wind blown out of my angry sails.

  Nathan pushes off the wall and goes over to Honor. “Proud of you, girl.” He takes her face in his hands, patting her affectionately, then he walks past me and opens the stable door, waiting for me to go through first.

  “Bye, Honor. Bye, Honor’s baby,” I murmur before leaving.

  Nathan bolts the door, locking them safely in for the night. The air has got significantly chillier while we’ve been in the stable. I rub my bare arms with my hands, trying to generate warmth.

  “You cold?” Nathan asks.

  “A bit.”

  “I’d offer you my top, but … ” he gestures down at his blood stained sweatshirt.

  “One for the bin?”

  He nods, laughing lightly. We continue to walk side by side in silence.

  “So, have you picked a name for the foal yet?” Nathan inquires, breaking the silence.

  I have actually.

  “Hope,” I say, giving him a quick glance.

  “Hope.” He nods. “Yeah, I like it.” I feel secretly pleased that I’ve actually got something right. “Oh, and thanks, Alex,” he adds in a casual tone, “for your help. I know how hard it must have been for you but you did real good, and I couldn’t have done it without you.” He looks at me and smiles. A genuine smile. It lights up his whole face, even in this darkness.

  And without realising, I smile back. It blindsides me. I’m so shocked at the sensation that I touch a finger to my lips to see if it’s real. And for these few seconds all my pain and self-hatred just drift away.

  But I quickly remind myself, reprimand myself. Happiness is not something I deserve.

  “No problem,” I mutter dismissively, letting the self-hatred flood back in.

  Wrapping my arms around myself, I look up at the sky. There’s a star out which has managed to break through the darkness, lighting up its small part of the sky. One single solitary star. And for a moment, I wonder if the world is actually trying to tell me something.

  Chapter 11

  Knee Deep

  “He wants us to what?”

  “Muck out the stable.” Sol’s face breaks into a grin.

  I like it when Sol smiles. It lights up everything around him and it’s almost, in a way, as if he’s smiling for me too.

  I glance from his grinning face over the stable door and down at the waiting mess. There’s horse manure and dirty straw everywhere.

  “Does Nathan always give you the shit jobs, pardon the pun, or is it just because I’m helping you out?”

  Sol laughs heartily. He has one of those contagious sounding laughs. It almost makes me laugh too. Almost.

  “Nah, Nate does his fair share,” he says. “Well more than that really. It’s just my turn, nothing whatsoever to do with you. You just lucked out is all when you offered your kind services.”

  I made the fatal error of offering my help today when I heard over breakfast that Cal wasn’t coming in to work today because he’s sick. It was a half-hearted offer on my part I didn’t think Sol would take me up on. How wrong was I? And looking at all of this, I wish I’d kept my mouth shut.

  Honor, seeing me, wanders over and pokes her head over the top of the stable door. “Morning, beautiful.” I stroke her face. She nudges my shoulder gently with her nose. She’s expecting food. I always bring something with me when I come to visit.

  I’m just about to get her apple out my jacket pocket, when Sol asks, “Would you mind putting the girls out into the paddock while I get the wheelbarrow and pitchforks. Oh, and I’ll get you a pair of wellies,” he adds, looking down at my trainer clad feet.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “Cheers,” he replies, walking away.

  I turn back to Honor, giving her my full attention. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget.” I get the apple out of my pocket and hold it out in my palm for her to take. She gently takes it and begins happily munching away on it. I wipe the saliva gift she’s left on my hand onto the back of my jeans.

  Hope, seeing her mother eating, trots over to me, worried she’s missing out. “Don’t worry, baby, I brought you one too.” I offer Hope her apple and she swipes it greedily from my hand. I smile.

  I do smile now, occasionally, but not intentionally. I try and stop them if I know they’re coming, because for every smile that lasts a few seconds, I feel an hour’s worth of guilt. I don’t mean to feel happiness, just sometimes it creeps up on me without my realising.

  I reach over to get Honor’s head collar off the hook beside the stable door and see Sol is still here. He’s standing at the end of the stable, casually leaning against it, watching me.

  “Hi,” I say, uncomfortable. He doesn’t look embarrassed I’ve caught him staring, as I would.

  “She really likes you, you know.” He nods his head forward.

  “Honor?” I say, casting a glance in her direction.

  “Mmm.” He nods again. “She’s funny about who she trusts, you know, with her having been badly treated 'n’ all, but you she definitely likes.”

  It’s nice to hear that Honor likes me, that she trusts me enough to like me. I’m just about to thank him for saying so, when he adds, “She’s a bit like Nathan in that respect.”

  “What?” I ask confused, ignoring the fact he hasn’t once looked away from my face.

  He pushes off the stable and stands up straight. “Picky about who they like.”

  “Oh.” I scuff my trainer against the concrete path, looking down. He doesn’t need to remind me Nathan doesn’t like me. It’s a fact I’m already well aware of. Not that it matters either way.

  “Nathan does like you,” he says as if reading my thoughts.

  “Now I know you’re lying.” I give a little awkward laugh for effect.

  “Don’t be so sure.”

  I look up in time to catch sight of him disappearing down the side of the stable.

  I stare after him for a moment, confused, feeling out of tune, like I’m missing out on something important.

  Honor gives a sharp neigh, demanding my attention, bringing me back round. “Okay, girl, I’m all yours.” I slip her head collar on and fasten it up.

  She’s eager to be out of the stable, so I keep hold of her by the collar and open the stable door. She’s out in a flash, pulling me along with her. I clip the lead to her head collar and start to jog with her out into the sunshine. Hope comes trotting out behind her mother, her tail high, looking proud and incredibly cute. I jog at Honor’s side to keep up with her and keep a watchful eye on Hope to make sure she doesn’t go wandering off.

  I slow Honor down to a walk as we approach the paddock gate. I lift the latch, push the gate wide open and walk them both in. Closing the gate behind me, I put the latch back on, then slip Honor’s head collar off.

  “Go have some fun.” I pat her affectionately on her back. She trots off, quickly picking up pace with Hope hot on her trail.

  I come back out of the paddock, latch the gate behind me, and rest my arms upon it, watching Honor and Hope cantering around.

  It’s been three weeks since Hope was born. After I got back to the house the night she was born, I went straight up to my room, climbed into bed and slept for seven hours straight, completely dream, well nightmare, free. That hadn’t
happened since I’d arrived. When I woke, I felt slightly more normal than I had in a long time, so I got out of bed, showered, got dressed, and before I knew it my feet were taking me out of the house and I was heading straight for the stables.

  The further away I walked from the house, and the closer to Honor and Hope I got, I started to feel a sense of calm washing over me. I liked the feeling.

  I knew Nathan wasn’t in the house when I’d left. I also knew with certainty he would be at the stable when I arrived there. But I didn’t mind that I would see him. We’d got on okay the night before - well, really well for me and Nathan - and I thought things were actually going to start to get better between us.

  I was wrong.

  From the moment I got there he was just as frosty and cold toward me as ever, if not frostier. It was almost like the night before hadn’t happened. If it weren’t for Hope, I’d actually think I’d imagined us getting along.

  And this is how things have continued ever since. I’m fine with it. I just accept it for what it is. Nathan will never like me, he’ll always resent my being here and the fact he felt he had to save my life that night, because of what it now means for him, and I get it, I really do.

  So on Hope’s first day in the world, I hung out at the stables with them both, except for when the vet came to check Honor and Hope over. I went back to the house before he arrived, waited until he’d gone, then I went back to the stables. Mainly I was alone with the horses, as Nathan was out on the farm, working. I was happy with this arrangement. I was glad to be in company where I didn’t have to make pointless small talk with someone who hates me.

  Then, when I went to bed that night, I found the same happened again. I slept right through. Not as long as the first night, but still I’d slept more in two days than I had over the last seven prior to meeting Honor and Hope. So, once again I got up, got dressed and headed out to see the horses. But this time I stopped by the kitchen to get some carrots to take with me.

  Jack was in there making himself breakfast; him and Sol had returned home from their trip late the night before. I smelt the toast he was making and found I actually felt hungry. I managed a slice of toast and a cup of coffee. We sat together eating breakfast, making small talk and, before I knew it, I was talking to him about that night, the night that irrevocably changed my life. I didn’t plan on talking to Jack, or anyone, about it ever but once I started I couldn’t seem to stop. It was gushing out of me. I don’t know if Jack has magical powers of some sort because I couldn’t stop the words from flowing. And if I’m being honest, it was actually a relief to talk to someone.

  I sat at the table with Jack for a long time, swinging through a range of emotions. He listened patiently. Then, when I’d said all I could and cried all the tears I had, he simply asked me, ‘What would I want Carrie to do if she were me?’

  I paused for a long moment. I knew just exactly where he was heading with this. Still, I answered truthfully.

  I said, ‘I’d want her to live her life. I’d want her to move on. I’d want her to be happy.’

  Jack smiled lightly, squeezed my hand, gave me a knowing look and got up from the table taking our breakfast plates with him, leaving me to contemplate my own words.

  So that’s what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to move forward. I’m trying to make the best with what I have left.

  It’s not easy.

  I have good days, I have bad days, and I have really, really bad days, but now I have someone to talk to on those bad days. It helps some.

  I’ll never get over Carrie’s death. I’ll always know I’m to blame, irrespective of how many times Jack tells me I’m not, but I will at some point learn to live with it.

  Leaving Honor and Hope to enjoy their time in the paddock, I make my way back to the stable. I meet Sol on his way back pushing along the wheelbarrow that is carrying a couple of pitchforks and spades. He sets the wheelbarrow down outside the stable door.

  “Smallest size I could find was a nine,” he says, pulling a pair of dark green wellies out of the wheelbarrow and holding them up, one in each hand. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had to cater for a woman. What size are you?”

  “A five.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t worry they’ll be fine,” I say kindly. I take them from him, sit down on the path and pull my trainers off. I put my feet in the wellies. They’re massive. I could probably fit two feet in one.

  Awkwardly, I get up to my feet. I try taking a step forward in them. It’s like walking in flippers. This is going to be interesting.

  “I look like an idiot,” I grimace.

  “Yeah, you do a bit.” Sol meets my eyes and laughs. I allow myself a smile. Sol’s green eyes sparkle as the sunlight catches them. His eyes are not as striking as Nathan’s, but they are nice nonetheless. And when Sol looks at me, I know he’s looking at me, not through me as Nathan does. It matters. To be seen means a lot now I’m invisible to the rest of the world.

  Sol winks cheekily at me, picks the wheelbarrow back up and pushes it inside the stable. He sets it down just to the side of the door and unloads the pitchforks and shovels, leaning them up against the wall.

  He hands me a pair of gloves and a pitch fork.

  “Thanks.” I give him a begrudging look.

  “Aw, stop moaning and get on with it, woman!” he chuckles good-naturedly, nudging me with his elbow. I nudge him back. His face breaks into a grin. I laugh. Guilt stabs me hard in the chest. I stop laughing.

  “Guess we better get on with this,” I say my mood instantly dropping.

  If he notices my abrupt change, he doesn’t say anything and I appreciate it. He just gives me a nod of agreement, puts his gloves on, picks his pitchfork up and starts working.

  Sol is a good friend to me, one I don’t deserve or should be allowed to even have, but I’m really not sure how to stop him from being my friend or if I even really want to.

  Holding the pitchfork under my arm, I put my gloves on, and joining Sol, I dig into the soiled straw and start moving it into the wheelbarrow.

  It’s unreal how much mess one horse and a foal can make in a day. We fill the wheelbarrow in no time and it still looks like we haven’t even made a dent. Sol takes the wheelbarrow away to empty it onto the manure pile around the back of the stable that Jack uses for his gardening, then comes back and we start filling it up again.

  Sol starts to talk as we continue working, easing off the silence. Normally he talks and I listen but, this time, I find myself joining in, asking him questions mainly about Nathan, curiosity finally getting the better of me because I know nothing about him - he never gives anything away about himself. Sol and Jack, on the other hand, are open books. I already know tons of stuff about them.

  He tells me Nathan was in the army. That doesn’t surprise me. It definitely goes some way to explaining why he’s so regimented and good at being a hardass.

  Sol also tells me Nathan left the army three years ago and that he served in Iraq. He says he’s a hero. Apparently Nathan saved some people’s lives while on duty in a northern Iraqi town called Shirqat after a suicide bomber detonated his explosive vest at a busy local market.

  It seems Nathan makes a habit of going around saving people’s lives.

  It’s obvious from the way Sol talks, how proud he is of Nathan and how much he looks up to him. It sets off a longing in my chest for Carrie which I quickly seal off.

  Sol stabs his pitch fork into the straw, taking a break. He lifts his arms above his head, stretching his long, lean body upwards. His T-shirt rides up, revealing an incredibly toned stomach. I look up at his face. Sol is a really good looking guy and he has a charming manner about him. I bet he does well with the ladies.

  “Do you have a girlfriend?” I ask him.

  I catch the look of surprise in his eyes before it quickly clears and I realise how much of an intrusive question that may have been, especially just asking out of the blue like that.

  “Sorry,�
�� I say, abashed, pressing my lips into an awkward line.

  He drops his arm back down to his sides. “Don’t be.” He smiles. “And no, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Oh,” I say, not expecting that to be the case.

  “You seem surprised.” He laughs but I can tell it’s forced.

  “No, I’m not surprised. I mean, well, I just got the impression you would have ... not that it’s a bad thing to be single, because it’s not, obviously.” Sol’s looking at me, eyebrows raised, eyes assessing me intently. I feel all hot and flustered. “But anyway, I’m sure you’ll have a girlfriend soon,” I add pointlessly at the end.

  “I’m fine with it.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Just keeping my options open.”

  “Best thing to do,” I say awkwardly. “You don’t want to get tied down too young.” I rub my nose. “What about Nathan? Does he have a girlfriend?” I regret the words the instant they leave my mouth. All I wanted to do was change the subject and that was the best I could come up with?

  Sol picks his pitchfork up. Looking away from me, he answers, “Not that I know of,” his tone suddenly flat.

  “And Cal?” I ask, just so he doesn’t think I’m only interested in his and Nathan’s private life, which of course I’m not. Why would I be?

  “Married to Erin. She’s pregnant. I’m gonna be an uncle soon.” He turns looking at me, a smile lifting his lips. He drops the contents of his pitchfork into the wheelbarrow.

  Now my curiosity’s piqued. “Is Erin one of your kind?” I ask him.

  He stands his pitch fork upright again and rests his arm on the handle. “Yeah. It’s preferred that we marry our own kind. You know, to keep up the lineage. It’s not forced or anything, but we do obviously keep our ... um ... abilities to ourselves. You know, humans wouldn’t understand and it would be a bit hard to explain to a human girl if you had a baby with her that it’s very likely that when the baby hits puberty it’s gonna be able to shift into an animal of its choice at the drop of a hat.” He screws his face up. “It’s just easier to be with our own kind, you know.”