FIFTEEN
If I were Tennyson, what would I wear to ride horses in the mountains? If I were Calamity Jane? Belle Star? If I were Meg Kavanagh, what would I wear to ride horses in the mountains with the hottest guy I’d ever met?
Here’s what I would wear—faded jeans, a brown tank under a fuzzy brown sweater, and the boots my parents bought me for the rodeo we hit on vacation three years ago. Hair in a ponytail, a tiny bit of bronzer, and lip gloss.
I paced in the kitchen before dawn. Henry had texted that I should get there as early as possible and he’d sent convoluted directions to the stables twenty miles south of town. I kept passing by the window to see if last night had been a nightmare. If I can fit twenty steps between the door and the window, Mom’s car will still be in the drive. If I can say the alphabet backwards without pausing, Mom will be asleep in the next room.
I hadn’t slept much last night. The few times I dozed, I awoke with a jerk reminding myself that things had changed again. I can’t explain how badly I wanted to wake up and find that all of the sad stuff in my life wasn’t true. That I’d gone to sleep one night and had the mother of all bad dreams. The cruelty was unbearable.
The old wood floor of the house creaked and groaned as Dad walked circles in his room most of the night. Early this morning, his cell phone rang. He answered and then got quiet. Finally he’d said, “You worked that out with her?” After a deep sob slipped through Dad’s defenses, he’d choked on his final words. “Thanks, Catherine, for everything. If she can’t be with me, I’m glad she’ll be with you.”
After that, the springs on his mattress squeaked and he sighed and fell asleep, snoring like a bear. I couldn’t bring myself to wake him before I left, so I propped up a note on the kitchen table—“I’m okay. Trail riding with a friend. I’ll be careful. Love, me.”
The riding stables were close to the part of Henry’s ranch where we’d camped. I took a left onto the ranch property and stopped in a field where trucks were parked. Half a dozen guys worked on horses and a couple of others carried hay bales around. All of them quit what they were doing when I stepped out of the Jeep.
“Looking for somebody?” A tall cowboy who looked like he hadn’t showered in a while walked my way. He was covered in dust so when he smiled, his teeth looked like chalk.
“Do you know if Henry’s here yet?”
“You must be Meg. I’m James. I’m glad you finally made an appearance so Henry can quit bellyaching like a sick calf about it.”
“Oh,” I said. “Is he busy?”
“Funny.” His rich chuckle proved he was probably holding back. Most guys can’t wait to zing a friend in front of a girl. “Come on, little bit, I’ll take you to him.”
The guys were halfway through mucking the stables and James led me around piles every five feet. Inside the barn, five or six other guys cleaned stalls and spread fresh hay. I recognized Dylan and stopped to say hi.
“Hey, Whitmire,” James shouted. “Your girl’s here!”
At the other end of the barn, Henry jumped down from a loft. He grinned at me as he covered the ground between us. He glared at a few of the guys who stared at him with goofy smiles on their faces.
“Sorry about the audience,” he said under his breath to me, pulling me into a one-armed hug. “They’re not used to pretty visitors who smell good.”
James laughed quietly. “Loverboy done got tender on us,” he said. Then he turned to walk back outside, calling over his shoulder, “Nice to finally meet you, Meg.”
“So, wow, you’re here,” Henry said, ignoring James. “How long have you got?”
“I’ve got all day. But I don’t want to keep you from anything so just kick me out when you need to.”
“Yeah, right.” He smiled and reached for my hand. “First, a tour.” He walked fast down the middle of the barn between two rows of stalls and I struggled to keep up. “So, this is the main stable. We’ve got thirty-five horses in here. Most of them are at least ten years old. They’ve been riding trails for years.”
“This is so much bigger than I’d pictured.” I turned a full circle looking at the size of the place.
He stopped at a stall where he held out a handful of oats to a huge horse. “It’s kind of out of hand. My parents talk about that every day. This was the one thing my mom wanted when she agreed to be a rancher’s wife in Wyoming.” The horse nuzzled Henry’s hand, looking for more. Henry turned his hand over and patted the horse on its neck. “She wanted to share this place with people who grew up in cities like she did.”
He took my hand and lifted it toward the horse’s neck, pressing my palm into the warmth. “Like this,” he said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
The horse’s skin twitched and made me jump, but I relaxed enough to continue stroking him. “Do you spend most of your time here?”
“I started working at the stable when I was ten. It was a way for my dad to get me comfortable with livestock and teach me some responsibility. By the time I was fourteen, I was reviewing the applications for wranglers and telling Dad who to hire. When I turned sixteen, he put me in charge of the place. I kind of oversee from a distant field, though, while I’m running the harvester or working cattle.”
It kind of hurt to look at Henry in his world—where nothing was out of place—because I’d just come from a house where nothing and no one had a place. I found I could only glance at him for tiny moments and then I had to look away. He was perfect enough to hurt my feelings for a long time and I wanted to let him.
“Who’s this guy?” I touched the horse’s face.
“His name’s Ben. He’s an Appaloosa.” He brought another handful of oats up to Ben’s mouth. “He’s the fastest horse I’ve ever owned.”
“Am I going to ride him?”
Henry laughed, his eyes catching the light coming through Ben’s stall. “No, Pittsburgh, you’re not ready for Ben yet. You’ll ride my old friend Trouble.”
I felt the butterflies in my stomach kick up a notch, but I’d learned to fake bravado. “I was born to ride Trouble,” I said. “Let’s go.”
He grinned and clapped his hands together once. “It’s on! You don’t move. I’ll tack your horse and be right back.”
He started to walk away, then he turned and walked backwards so he was facing me. “I’m really glad you came out.” He took a faded blue baseball cap out of his back pocket, slapped it against his thigh to shake some dust out, and put it on.
He worked on a horse in the first stall, cinching the saddle and whispering to him. I walked closer.
“Come here and meet Trouble,” he said. “He’s the gentlest horse in the West.”
After he led Trouble out of his stall, he handed me the reins, telling me he’d be right back. He slung gear on Ben’s back and led him out, cinched up and ready to go. Then Henry took a coat and some leather gloves out of an old wooden cabinet next to the barn door. He brought them to me.
“You’re going to want these. You’ll freeze without them.” He slipped the coat on me and held a glove out for me to put my hand in. The coat smelled like hay and Henry.
“We might be gone a while,” he said. “I packed some food.” He took a packed saddlebag off a hook and laid it over Ben’s rump. Then he grabbed a stool and set it next to Trouble. “Time to saddle up.”
He steadied me on the stool, his hands on my waist. “Just put your left foot in the stirrup, grab the saddle horn and swing your right leg over.”
A smile played at the corner of Henry’s mouth. He was definitely enjoying this; in fact, the whole crowd watched, probably taking bets on how many bones I would break when I flung myself up one side of this horse and then fell down the other. I forced myself to take a breath, then I stuck my foot into the stirrup and kicked my leg over. I landed in the saddle and the leather creaked and moved under me.
“That was perfect,” Henry said. “You’re on a horse.” He smiled and reached to tighten the saddle and raise the stirrups. Trouble blew
air out of his nose and I jumped, making Henry chuckle.
“He’s just telling you he likes you, Meg.” Henry’s voice was calm and controlled. “He’ll make all kinds of noises you’ve never heard, but you’re gonna love him before we get through.”
“Why did you name him Trouble?” I tried unsuccessfully to sound unruffled.
“He used to be ornery. Now he’s just old.” Henry murmured something in Trouble’s ear. Then he pulled both my wrists together and held them in one of his hands. He put the reins into my left hand, turning my hand so that my thumb was up.
He patted Trouble forcefully on the neck and told him to be a gentleman, then he took two long strides and climbed onto Ben without any effort at all. When he was settled, he looked up and caught me staring.
“Are you finished?” I said, covering. “Because no one likes a show-off.”
“Who’s showing off?” He grinned and pretended to be busy tightening some piece of leather around his saddle horn.
“Seriously, Henry, you look like a movie. I look like I’m planning to be thrown for comic relief.”
“You look just fine.”
Henry clicked his tongue and Ben eased forward out of the barn. Trouble followed without question. He had a slow, gentle gait. Henry sat almost sideways in the saddle so he could watch me and Trouble. Was he trying to decide if I’d fall on my face? I sat up a little taller and met his eyes with full-on stubborn. An amused smile flickered across his lips.
“Aren’t you gonna pony her?” James yelled from the barn.
“Nah, she’ll be okay,” Henry said, still meeting my eyes and smiling. “If Trouble decides Meg’s not the boss, I’ll pony her.”
“Excuse me?” I said.
“I’ll take your reins from you and lead Trouble myself.”
We headed onto a dirt trail carved from years of horse travel. There were huge, hazardous rocks everywhere, but Trouble stepped around them like a pro, rocking me from side to side. I pretended to be a Cheyenne guide. I pretended to be a prairie woman. I pretended Henry was my old-timey husband taking me to our new homestead. I leaned down and patted Trouble’s neck. “Good boy,” I said. “Trusty steed.”
“Doing okay back there?” Henry called.
“I have a crush on Trouble. He’ll break my heart. That is all.”
“You’re not the first girl to say that.” He whistled to Trouble, getting his attention and urging him to walk faster. “We’re headed over to the Arapaho trail. We’ll take it to the top of one of the smaller peaks in the foothills so you can see the valley.”
After crossing the shallow part of a river, the trail took a winding turn into a thick forest of pines, making the day seem darker and quiet. We passed a pine tree growing out of the center of a large boulder. The little tree was pathetic, like Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.
“It’s a brave little tree, isn’t it?” Henry said. “It has no idea how impossible that is. The boulder’s split and that tree found a way through the tiny crack.”
I reached out a hand as we passed and patted the tiny tree with a dream.
“When I was a kid,” Henry said, “I’d sneak into this forest with a tent and camp out next to that rock.” He pressed his heels into Ben’s sides to get him to speed up. “You’re not actually supposed to camp in here—it’s on the reservation.”
“Did your parents know where you were?”
“Yeah, my dad’s the one who told me to do it. Wanted me to have adventures and be a man and all that. The only time I got in trouble was when I camped out on a Saturday night and didn’t show up for church Sunday morning. Dad made me double up on chores and lead singing at church for a month.”
I chuckled at the thought of an adorable young Henry leading singing. “Are you going to stay here and take over the ranch one day?”
“Well, it’s mine if I want it. It’s in my blood. One of these days, I’ll be foreman for my dad. But I’d like to see some of the world before I take it on.”
“What about college?”
“Yeah, there’s college, too. I just found out I got early acceptance to the University of Wyoming. I plan to accept, but delay entering for a year. I’ve been asked to help out with something before I go to college and I think I’m going to do it.” He threw a look back at me to gauge my reaction.
“What will you be doing?”
“Working at an orphanage in Nicaragua with my sister and her husband. They run the place. I’ve been to visit and caught the bug.”
“They want you to move there for a year?” I could barely hide my disappointment. In my experience, it was harder to be the one left behind and I was getting a little tired of playing that role.
“The better part of a year,” he said. “They started building a new dorm last year and the contractor took off without finishing it. And they need some other repairs done.” He pulled on Ben’s reins to stop him so we could talk better. “It does have a way of getting into your heart. Those kids have nothing. They’re so grateful for anything you do for them.”
“I can see you helping kids.”
“You should come down to visit. You’d want to bring those little babies home with you if you could see them. They’d fall in love with you, Meg.”
“I’d want to stay forever, I’m sure.”
He stared at me for a minute and nodded. “You probably would.” Kicking Ben gently, he turned us back onto the trail and up the hill.
“Look at the meadow down there,” he said. “Can you see the wagon ruts? A major trail came right through here. Lots of people died on that trail. They just had to bury the dead and move on without looking back.”
I stopped Trouble and stared at the wagon ruts. We’d done that to Wyatt—buried him and moved on. Except my mom had looked back.
“Hey,” Henry said, “you okay?”
“Of course. Let’s keep going.”
He pointed to a cliff on a hill across from us. “There’s a rock shelter right over there. That’ll get us out of the wind and we can eat lunch.”
SIXTEEN
We used tree roots as stairs to climb a steep incline, then we dropped over a boulder and down to the rock ledge. Henry steadied me by letting me hang onto his forearm. The world was eerily quiet now without the noise of the wind. He smoothed out a blanket that had been tied behind his saddle. We sat and divided up the food he’d brought.
“I knew you’d love it here.” He watched me tear into the sandwich he’d made for me. “It seems like the people who grow up here get jaded. It’s cool to watch your face, seeing these mountains for the first time. Of course, you’re getting a better tour than our average customer.”
I picked at the crust on my bread and said the first thing that came to mind. “So how many other girls have gotten the better than average tour?”
“You’re the only one.”
“I find that hard to believe.” I couldn’t look at him because I was afraid his face would prove he was mocking me.
“It’s not like I’ve had a heck of a lot of time for a social life, Meg.” He looked at me sideways, shaking his head.
“You said you’d tell me about Brooke.” I knew I was touching a nerve, but I had to know.
He groaned and looked down. “Brooke’s family and mine have been friends for years. Her granddad owns the ranch next to ours and I’ve grown up working as much with him as my own dad. Brooke and her brother spend summers here helping out and we’re all close.”
That was so not what I wanted to hear. When a boy says he’s close to a girl, it usually means he’s close to a girl. “Well, I don’t think she’d appreciate us being alone like this.”
He smiled and leaned back against the smooth rock behind us. “It’s not like that. Honestly, I had a crush on her, but it didn’t work out and now I see that it’s better this way. She wasn’t…we don’t have that much in common. She knows her way around a horse and a hay baler, but that’s not enough. When you’re fifteen you think it might be enough.”
He laughed and color slashed across his cheeks. “I’m not sure. I practically grew up with her. Her brother is one of my closest friends. It got all confused there for a while and I might have had my feelings hurt, but it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not even on the radar anymore.”
“Why did Grayson say those things about her?”
“Those guys were way out of line and I apologize that you heard all of that. I think Grayson has a thing for Brooke. When she’s here in the summer, he follows her around and acts like an idiot.”
He took his cap off and rubbed his short hair. “I wasn’t about to tell him anything about her that would fuel that fire. She and I hung out, but it wasn’t like they made it sound. And it wasn’t like this either, today, with you. Not for me, anyway. But none of that is Grayson’s business.”
I smiled at him. Not even Wyatt would have known how to be this honorable when talking about a girl that had hurt him.
He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So, how about you? Lots of hearts broken in Pittsburgh?”
“No. No. I kind of always had my nose in a book, so, if anyone was looking, I wouldn’t have known it.”
“Hmmm. What you’re saying is that you’ve never been kissed?” He picked at a string on the blanket under us.
“Did I say that?” I glared at him.
He laughed. “I imagine plenty of guys were trying to work up the nerve to ask you out this year and now you’re here. Poor fools.”
“Yes, poor fools.”
“Give me Pittsburgh in five words or less.”
“A place I once lived.”
“Chapin is better with you.” He counted the wrong way, the British way, using his thumb for “one.”
“Chapin did fine without me.”
“But I didn’t.”
“That’s three. You blew off two words.”
“Sweet Meg. But I didn’t, sweet Meg.”
“I think I can get better here,” I said.
“Fail,” he said. “And what do you mean?”
Glass Girl (A Young Adult Novel) Page 10
