by Roya Carmen
I sigh as I close the door behind me. There will be no more romantic vacations, no intimate dinners, no more excitement. This is my life now. I don’t even know how long I’ll be here. I’m sure these people don’t want me here forever.
A gorgeous orange cat slithers between Amber’s legs and rubs its head along her calf. “Would you like a glass of water, a coffee or tea?”
“Uh… sure…,” I hesitate as I follow her to the kitchen. “I’ll just have a glass of water, please.” It’s just as large and amazing as my kitchen back home but it’s a lot homier; lovely decorative plates dot a rustic brick wall. An expansive coffee and tea station sits just below and I’m reminded that this isn’t just a home, but a fully functioning Inn. “Thank you again for having me,” I tell her, full of emotion. I need to rein myself in – the last thing I need to do is sob in front of this woman. “I won’t stay long…. I just need to figure out a few things…” My words trail off. The truth is, I have no clue how I’m going to figure this out, where I’m going to go, how I’m going to go on. I don’t have much money and I can’t go back to Auntie Ruthie’s – he’ll find me there.
“It’s our pleasure,” she says as she hands me my glass and we both take a seat at the kitchen table. “Your aunt was my mother’s best friend. They knew each other all their lives,” she explains, her gaze pulling from mine. She stares at the wall for a second before she goes on. “Your aunt told me about…” she pauses before going on, “about your situation, about your husband.”
I swallow hard. “So you know what a mess I’m in.”
She shoots me a tight smile. “We’ll do anything we can to help you, Jade. Ruthie and I talked for quite a while and we’ve discussed a few possibilities…” she trails off.
I wonder about these ‘possibilities’. And I wonder who ‘we’ is. Who’s going to help me, because as confused as I am, there’s one thing I know for sure – I need all the help I can get.
It’s a perfect unusually warm fall day. The sun beams as I walk down the trail leading to the fields. I want to take a closer look at the horses. I’m certainly not wearing the right outfit; my wedge heeled lace-up boots and impeccable white jeans were probably not the best choice.
But they’re just fine as I come to a stop and stand just outside the rustic wooden enclosure. The grass beneath my feet is not dirty at all, but on the other side of the fence is a different story. They are majestic animals. I’ve never ridden a horse but have always wanted to. I wonder if they offer lessons. But then, I tell myself I’d probably fall off – I’m not the most athletic of people. And they’re all so huge, I could barely climb up on them.
No. I decide that I’m happy just looking at them. There’s a stunning one who nears closer with a curious expression. He’s rusty brown with large white patches splattered across his body. He gallops in a circle and turns away from me, his curiosity satisfied. He joins a huge black horse – this one reminds me of Black Beauty. They gather in small groups. It brings me back to middle-school, or even high school for that matter. They’re really not that different than humans. I wonder if they’re kept out during the winter, and if they get cold. I wonder if they get bored.
I spot a tall man, his profile black under the sun. He wears tall rubber boots and some kind of tight hat on his head. My attention is drawn to him as he moves in the direction of the fence. He doesn’t walk or saunter – he glides. His long legs stretch and bring him to his destination in no time. My short legs could never keep up with his. I’m sure he travels twice as fast as I do, four times in fact if you factor in my usual footwear.
He tugs at the gate and swings it open with the skill of a person who’s done this often. I wonder if he’s the brother; the famous Flynn. I inch slowly closer to take a better look. He hasn’t noticed me yet, too busy tending to his horses. He pats a large silver horse on the rump, grabs the rope and leads him toward the barn. He’s chatting with him as if they’re best friends. My gaze is pulled in by the horse – gorgeous dirty silver. His mane is short; he looks like a zebra who’s lost his stripes. As stunning as he is, I’m curious about the man next to him. Closer proximity lets me study the details of him. He’s wearing a red bandana, worn jeans, and a white t-shirt. As he nears closer, I study the neatly trimmed beard and the edges of a tattoo on his arm, the dark curves of the design escaping from the hem of his t-shirt sleeve.
Total ‘bad boy’. Hot and sexy in theory, but a real disaster in actuality – I should know. I haven’t even met him, but I don’t like him already.
He’s smiling when he finally spots me. His smile quickly fades, replaced by a curious expression. As he inches closer, I pull my gaze away, suddenly shy. Yes, I’ve been ogling, but in my defense, there’s no one else to look at. He and I are the only humans as far as the eye can see.
He manages the gate as he keeps a hold on the horse – he clearly doesn’t need any assistance. As soon as he’s out of the enclosure, he shoots me a tight grin, the curious expression still tracing his features. I know I should probably introduce myself, but my fancy boots seem stuck to the ground – they won’t budge an inch. My heart pounds – I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Perhaps it’s just that I feel like an intruder. I don’t belong here. Who am I to introduce myself?
He and his stripeless zebra horse are moving on. Apparently, a tight smile is all I’m going to get. He doesn’t seem too friendly – the brooding bad boy. Still, I should act normal and just say hello. I’m sure he and I have nothing in common. He doesn’t seem like the type who reads Ernest Hemingway or watches the news for entertainment. Yet if I’m going to crash at this place, the least I could do is be friendly with the people who work here. Just a quick hello and then I’ll be on my way.
I trail behind them, at a safe distance and follow them into the barn. As I set foot in the space I’m assaulted by the smell; a distinct scent of hay and manure, but pleasantly surprised by the wide open airy, sunny space. The sky shines through the see-through ceiling panels – I can’t quite make out the clouds but the suns streams through and gives the space a bright warm feel. We’re sandwiched between two rows of horse stalls. I spot a horse’s head, peaking out.
The gorgeous silver horse is lead into the far stall. The man secures him with some ropes. He’s fiddling with a clip when he raises his gaze to mine, still curious. He eyes me from top to bottom, his eyes travel slowly the length of my body, and finally rests on my boots. A man like him has no clue how much these cost. He gives me the courtesy of raising his gaze back to my face. But still, he doesn’t say a word. Up closer, I see it all; the specs of red in his neatly trimmed beard, the wide expressive mouth and large eyes; a unique shade of hazel.
God, the man is beautiful.
But not exactly the most polite guy on the planet. I get it. I’m the intruder here. I should start the introductions. “Uh… I’m Jade,” I offer, stretching my hand toward him but his own hands are too busy to give me the courtesy of a hand shake, which is fine because I really don’t want to shake his filthy hands anyway.
“Flynn Riverstone,” he says simply. Not terse, not friendly, just matter-of-fact. But I’m glad to hear it – he’s the brother, the brother I know absolutely nothing about.
“Oh… so you own this place?” I say, the words escaping before I can really think about them.
“Yes… myself and my sisters,” he says with a furrowed brow. He still seems confused about me. I’m sure he wants to know who the hell I am.
“I’m staying at the Inn for a little while,” I explain. “My aunt Ruthie was a good friend of your mother’s and she recommended this place.”
He grins, staring up at the sky.
Yay! Finally, a smile.
A gorgeous wide grin – in that split second, I see another side of him. Underneath the frosty façade, I suspect there’s a sweet and fun man.
“Aunt Ruthie…” he says, his soft spoken words are slow and brimming with nostalgia. “She’s amazing.”
I find it curiou
s that he calls her his aunt too. As far as I know, he and I are not related.
“How are you finding the place so far?”
Yay! There might actually be a conversation in sight.
I beam. “This place is stunning. I just got here but I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was when I drove in.”
He grins again. “Yes, this place is something special.”
“I love the horses,” I tell him. “I love animals.”
“Well there’s plenty of those around here,” he quips. “Do you ride?”
With a hint of regret, I tell him, “No. Never have.”
He nods but doesn’t say a word. He seems to consider me for a second, and almost as if he’s come to a conclusion, he says, “Well, it’s not for everyone.”
I fix him for a second. Who is he to judge me? I might like to ride one day. I’m not always dressed to the nines like this – I can be rugged too. I grew up in the middle of nowhere, in a double wide for crying out loud. “Well, you never know. Maybe I’ll try it one day.”
He smirks. “Maybe you will.”
I’m not sure I like this man. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Flynn,” I say, my words a little clipped. “I’ll be heading back to the house. Good luck with your horses.”
That annoying smirk still lingers on his lips as I turn from him. I have no time for simpletons like him – he can just move along brushing his horses, and I’ll just stay out of his way.
Just as I’m about to step out of the barn, I quickly turn to catch a last glimpse of him, and he’s still looking at me. He’s been watching me leave, been ogling my ass as each step led me to the exit.
What a brute.
Flynn
As soon as I spot her, my breath catches – long dark hair flowing in the wind, dressed in white from head to toe. She’s a tiny little thing and looks as sweet as pie. I’ve never seen her around and I wonder who the hell she is, and what she’s doing there, just standing by the paddock. Theories form in my head at rocket speed. God, I hope she’s not a new girl helping out, because this one, I’m not sure I can stay away from. But no, she can’t be – barn girls don’t dress like that. And she can’t be a new client either, since I haven’t taken on any new consultations, nor spoken to potential new clients on the phone.
I shoot her a quick smile, not knowing what else to do. I’m happy when she follows me into the barn – I want to know who the hell she is. As I take her in from head to toe, she brings out the man in me for a second. She’s just perfect – I don’t like my women too skinny and the curves on her small body are just flawless. I’m a good foot taller than her, but my body doesn’t care. I would be more than thrilled to have her tiny body wrapped around me.
When I take in her spotless white pants, I get the urge to press my filthy hands all over them and dirty them. She’s too impeccable – it annoys me for some reason. I’m no stranger to uppity women. There are a lot of privileged and entitled women who come here to ride. They step out of their shiny Range Rovers, sporting impeccable riding outfits and designer riding boots. They tell me they used to ride as young girls, and that their kids are in school and they finally have a little time to themselves. They flirt with me; a smile here, or a tilt of the head, but I never ever dismiss the wedding rings on their fingers.
But this one… this one takes the cake. And I don’t fail to notice the wedding ring on her finger either. I notice it even before I tell her my name.
I ask her if she rides, making polite conversation – she doesn’t strike me as the type who rides. She says she doesn’t and I’m pretty sure I won’t see her around much. She’s probably just passing through. A lot of the guests come over to the paddock and the barn to check out the horses – it’s all part of the experience.
I’m sure she’ll be gone soon enough. Amber really needs to start communicating better with me. I know she’s just as busy as I am, but a little heads-up would have been nice. Something along the lines of “hot girl coming to stay at the Inn… her aunt knew Mom.”
Really, is that so much to ask?
Jade
I’m staying up in the attic in a beautiful cozy room. A single small window lights up the space – it’s warm and soft up here. I sit on the edge of the quaint antique bed; wrought iron headboard and flower covered bedspread. I feel safe up here; it’s so far removed. I don’t unpack yet. I just want to take a moment to take all this in.
My new life.
My temporary life. I don’t know where I’ll go from here but I know I can’t stay here forever. But if there was ever a place to be stuck in forever, this would be it.
The orange cat peaks his head in the door, cautious. He eyes me with curiosity.
“Hey cutie, come in,” I urge with my best, sweetest I’m friendly, you can trust me voice. He’s slow to make his way in. He seems to still be on the fence. He trails circles around me and glares at me. For some reason, I seem to have offended him. He finally hops on the bed and curls into a comfortable ball, and studies me curiously.
A light tap on the door pulls my gaze. Amber is standing there with a huge grin. “I warned you about her…”
When Amber first gave me my choice of rooms, she did mention that this one was Ginger’s favourite and that I might be stuck with her if I chose this room.
Slowly, Amber inches closer to the bed. “This used to be my sister Ruby’s room. Ginger and Ruby were inseparable. Ginger loves to sleep on this bed.”
“I don’t mind,” I pipe up. “I love animals. I love cats… I couldn’t have one because my husband had allergies…” I trail off, thinking about Michael. He told me he had allergies, but I always suspected that he just didn’t like animals.
“How are you feeling?” Amber asks softly. “This must be weird for you.”
“It is,” I admit but I don’t elaborate. I don’t tell her I feel like an intruder, like a charity case, like a broken woman; the kind of woman who is pitied, looked down upon, gossiped about. I wonder if they’ve talked about me. I wonder if they think I’m weak, if they think I’m pathetic. I wonder what Auntie Ruthie has told her. I wonder if she knows everything, and if her sister Ruby knows about me too. What about her brother Flynn? If he does, he certainly didn’t let on.
“May I?” she asks gesturing to the bed. I nod and she sits next to me. I jerk when Ginger hops off the bed, startling me. Amber laughs, her cheeks flushed. She seems like such a sweet person. There’s something about her that tells me I can trust her. “This probably all feels a little strange, but you’ll be comfortable in no time, I’m sure.”
I want to believe her but I can’t see that day coming anytime soon.
I stare at the flower curtains framing the small window and the gorgeous red silk dress on the mannequin in the corner. “That’s a beautiful dress… who does it belong to?”
She smiles. “My sister, Ruby,” she says. “She’ll be coming to get it soon enough, I’m sure. She lives across the street now… in that big spooky mansion.”
“Wow,” I say, my mind brought back to the castle-like estate across the street. It was the first thing that caught my eye as I headed to Riverstones. “So she’s like a modern day princess?”
She laughs. “Something like that.”
We sit in silence for a beat. My gaze darts across the room, taking in the whimsical illustrations on the walls, the flowery wallpaper, and the antique mirror on the vanity table.
“I was wondering about something,” Amber says softly. “Your aunt was telling me that you love animals…” she continues, pausing for a second. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in the equine therapy my brother does.”
Her words catch me by surprise. Equine therapy?
Almost as if she can sense my confusion, she clarifies. “He’s a registered therapist and a licensed EAP therapist… that stands for Equine Assisted Therapy,” she explains. “Basically, he works with horses, with clients dealing with all kinds of issues ranging from anxiety, self-esteem, post-traumatic disorde
rs, eating disorders, depression, and tons of other stuff. He’s done wonders for so many people, and with what you’ve been through, I just thought…” she trails off.
I don’t say a word, too stunned to speak. The beautiful man with the tattoo, the worn jeans and the bandana wrapped around his head… is a doctor? I feel like an idiot. I took one look at him, promptly labeled him and stuffed him neatly into a little box.
BAD BOY – additional note: not worth my time.
“I completely understand if you’re not interested,” she’s quick to say. “It’s just… the horses have helped me too, and my fiancé too. We’ve been through a lot too and riding works wonders for your psyche.”
I wonder if she’s talking about her husband’s passing, or her brother’s. This woman has been through more than I ever have. I really shouldn’t be the one sulking, feeling sorry for myself.
“No… it’s okay. I’ll think about it,” I promise. “It’s just… the horses are so big… they scare me a little.”
“Well, I’m sure he’d start you out with a smaller horse, and besides, that’s the whole point… it’s all about taking control and not being afraid… being strong and fierce.”
Fierce.
That’s definitely something I’m not.
Flynn
Flash is nice and cozy in his bed on top of the washing machine. He stirs and wakes from his slumber when I scratch him under the chin. He turns and arches his back.
The life of a barn cat.
If only I had time for a cat nap. There’s just so much to do around here. Between my time with the clients, caring for the horses, and keeping up this place, I don’t have a spare minute. I have two assistants who work alternate shifts but it’s not enough. And the volunteers are unpredictable – there’s not much reliability when you don’t get paid. They rack up the hours needed for their school courses and college applications and off they go, never to be seen again.
