“That’s a nice looking horse, too,” Bill commented, reaching up to stroke the facial hair on his chin. “There’s an auction coming up in April, I’d love to show him for you if you think he’ll be ready?”
“He’ll be ready,” Liam said.
“Great.” Mr. Harris smiled. “I think my work here is done for the day.”
“We should probably get a move on ourselves,” Liam said. “Have a nice day.”
I forced another smile, and then followed Liam down the aisle, turning toward the main part of the barn where the tractors and farm machinery were stored. Liam quickly located the dolly, titled it back on its wheels, and started rolling it through the maze of farm equipment.
“You,” he said as he was rolling, “need to work on your subtlety skills, or should I say, the lack-thereof.”
I sighed. “That was kind of bad, huh?”
“Luckily I was there to cover your ass.” He grinned.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t stand the thought of Maverick belonging to someone else one day. He’s nowhere near ready to be re-homed anyway; Grandpa shouldn’t have been showing him.” I shook my head.
“Just talk to him,” Liam suggested, pushing through the opening of the barn. He lifted the dolly with ease, sliding it back across the bed of his truck. “I’m sure your grandpa would be more than happy to work out a deal to let you keep him if that’s what you want.”
I bit the inside of my lip, chewing on the thought. “Is that silly of me–to want him?” I asked, climbing into the passenger’s side of the truck.
“Darcy, you should have seen the way Maverick responded to human contact before you came into the picture. There’s something about you that’s different, and maybe it makes him feel safe. You share some sort of connection,” Liam said, climbing behind the wheel. “From day one, I’d say that horse chose you.”
***
We returned to the Crescent Moon, parking in front of the building alongside the curb. I was slower than Liam; hopping out of the cab around the same time he was lowering the tailgate to retrieve the dolly. We met on the sidewalk, and I held open the doors so he could guide the dolly inside. There were a few customers scattered through the book aisles when we entered, but I spotted Beck right away, leaning across the counter with her magazine again.
“We’re back,” I said as she looked up.
“Great! Layla has been pacing since you left,” she said, pushing the magazine aside. “I finally sent her to go pick out a new oven for her own protection.”
I chuckled.
“Seriously,” Beck said, “she was two seconds away from being strangled.”
“So where is this thing?” Liam asked.
“It’s right around back.” Beck pointed over her shoulder. I showed him the way while Beck helped a customer who had walked up to the counter behind us.
“Oh wow,” he said, rolling the dolly into the kitchen area. “This thing is a dinosaur, no wonder it blew up.”
“Do you think you can get it out of here?” I asked. It was a smaller convection model, but I imagined it probably had more weight to it than an ordinary oven.
Liam walked over to it, giving it a good shake. “I think I can manage,” he said. “I’ll be right back; I forgot to grab the straps out of the back of my truck.”
I nodded.
Beck passed him on his way out, made her way over to stand beside me, and tucked her hands in the front pockets of her jeans. “What’s the prognosis?”
“He thinks he can get it out on his own,” I said.
“I’m not surprised. He’s built like a freight train.”
I made a face, showing my distaste at her analogy.
“What? He is.”
“That makes him sound like he’s boxy or something.”
“No,” she said, “it makes him sound like he’s strong and sexy.”
Liam made his way back into the kitchen then, and I wondered if he’d heard Beck’s proclamation of his physique. I hoped not. We watched as he positioned the dolly under the oven, and strapped it down so it wouldn’t slide around during transport.
“I know someone who runs a scrap yard,” Liam said, “do you mind if I take it by his place and see if I can get you something for it?”
“Sure,” Beck said. “I know that would make Layla exceptionally happy if she can actually get something for that hunk of junk. This thing was her baby.”
“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Or so they say.” He tilted the oven back on the dolly, pulling it out of the kitchen.
“Freight train,” Beck said under her breath, following him out of the kitchen. I followed behind her, rolling my eyes.
He rolled the oven out of the building and up to his truck. He hopped into the bed, tilting the dolly against the tailgate. “If I pull, can one of you push?” he asked. “I shouldn’t need much help.”
“I’ll do it.” Beck offered, and stepped forward to help.
Liam leaned forward, using his legs as well as his arms to help maneuver the weight of the oven into the bed of the truck. Beck was basically there to spot while he pulled the oven up and over, the muscles in his arms innately flexing.
“Nice work, cowboy,” she said, stepping back on the sidewalk. “I better get back inside before my customers have a meltdown.”
“Yeah, and I guess I should probably get home to help Grandma with your pie order for tomorrow morning,” I said.
“Right. See you at zombie-hour.” She waved and then turned to go back inside.
“Zombie-hour?” Liam questioned.
“It’s a Beck thing,” I told him, waving it off. “Thank you for doing this. Are you still going to have time for lunch?”
He glanced down at the watch around his wrist. “I still have about thirty minutes or so,” he said. “There’s this really good street vendor a few blocks down, do you want to come with me?”
“What do they sell?” I asked.
“Chili dogs, ice cream, walking-tacos. Does any of that sound appealing to you?”
The idea of spending a little more time with him was the most appealing, even if street-meat was on the menu. “Sure,” I said. “You lead the way.”
***
We found a wooden bench nestled between the sand dunes, surrounded by the tall blades of sweeping beach grass that had a perfect view of the ocean. The pier was up to our left, and I could just make out the small shapes of people fishing from above. A few seagulls floated in the pastel colored skies above the ocean, waiting to spot their dinner within the glittering surf.
I sat with my left leg tucked underneath me, though Liam had put his jacket down to keep the dampness of the bench from soaking through. He had bought us both walking-tacos with a medium sized Coke (with two straws) to share. Though, I had completely lost track of whose straw belonged to whom. I had to admit, the food was pretty decent.
“I haven’t had one of these since I was kid,” I said, popping a spoonful of the taco mixture in my mouth. “I used to beg my parents to let me get one from the concession stands at all of my brother’s baseball games.”
Liam laughed. “You probably kept the concessions in business.”
“You joke, but that’s a very good possibility. I was extremely serious about my walking-tacos.”
“You didn’t play?” he asked.
“Baseball? No. I mean we played on a coed T-ball team when we were really little, but I was furious when we got older and couldn’t be on the same teams anymore, so I quit.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t that good anyway. Not like Gabriel. He was good at everything he tried.”
“I bet you just didn’t give yourself enough credit,” he said, reaching for the Coke to take a sip. I noticed he didn’t look down to see which straw belonged to him, either. I bit my lip to keep from smiling.
A few yards in front of us, closer to the water’s edge, was a family of four enjoying a blanket picnic spread on the beach. Their two small children looked to be between the ages of four and six–brother and sister. Watching them chase the striped beach ball around as it blew across the sand reminded me of Gabriel and I as children. I counted numerous family outings where my family had once been the family before me. I smiled, but my heart broke a little on the inside.
“Sometimes I think there’s no better sound than the sea waves crashing against the shoreline,” Liam said, disrupting my train of thought. “I came here a lot after my mom died, just to sit and think.”
“I can see where it would provide a nice distraction,” I said, agreeing.
“For a while,” he said.
I looked up, meeting his emerald gaze. The afternoon sun was playing in the colors there, highlighting various hidden shades that seemed to pull the breath from my lungs.
“It gets easier,” he said, and I realized he was talking about dealing with the loss of someone you love.
I stayed quiet for a minute, studying the waves and the different shapes of the clouds in the sky. The world always seemed a little brighter after a passing storm. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Liam checking his watch. “Do you have to go?” I asked, hoping he couldn’t detect the disappointment in my voice.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m just not looking forward to the rest of this week–exam wise. All the professors tend to pile on tests and quizzes before break starts.”
“Doesn’t make much sense does it?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, everyone gets excited about the break and starts planning trips and fun things with their friends. Kind of takes away the focus from all the important school things. I guess professors expect that, maybe that’s how they determine if you’re really serious about your future.” I shrugged.
“Maybe,” he said. “I think the fact that I’ll be paying off my school loans until I’m ninety should show just how dedicated I am.”
I laughed. “Nah,” I said, “you’ll be a big-name-veterinarian before you know it, and those school loans will disappear right before your eyes.”
“I just hope I’ll be good at it,” he said.
“You will be,” I told him. I had watched him working with the animals on the farm, and I admired the sureness and calm-strength he seemed to emanate without being aware. It reminded me of the way my brother had been around animals. That kind of compassion wasn’t something that could be taught. It was a natural gift; you either had it, or you didn’t. “You can’t fail if you’re determined not to.”
“What about you?” he asked. “What is it that drives you, Miss Bell?”
“I don’t know.” I sighed. “But I plan to find out.”
“You’re really good with the horses,” he stated. “Have you thought about going into business with your grandparents? He’s going to need a successor one of these days, and I can’t think of a more qualified candidate.”
“Do you think I could do it, though?” I glanced down at my right leg, feeling the tightness of every pin and screw holding my bones in place. There was always a chance–even for a more graceful person–to get hurt working around such powerful animals. The average horse weighed over one-thousand pounds. I was already clumsy and stiff when I moved; it didn’t seem like the deck was exactly stacked in my favor.
“I think,” he smiled playfully, “you can’t fail if you’re determined not to.”
“You can’t steal my line.” I laughed.
“Well it was a good line.” He laughed too, bumping his shoulder lightly into mine.
In front of us, the family of four was beginning to pack up their picnic. I knew our time was fleeting, but my mood had finally altered for the better.
“You should look into it though,” he said with sincerity, “training, that is. HU has a couple of equine based programs.”
“Yeah?” Truth be told, I loved the idea. And if I allowed myself, I felt like maybe-just-maybe, I could belong there. All of the scattered puzzle pieces on the table of my life were starting to stitch themselves back together.
“Something to think about,” he said.
“Thank you for this,” I said, holding up my now empty walking-taco bag.
“Anytime.”
We left the beach behind us, but I could still smell it in my hair as Liam walked me back to my car near the Crescent Moon. I made sure to grab my cork sculpture from his front seat first, thanking him again for the gift.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
“Tomorrow,” I agreed.
“Be safe, okay?” There was warmth in his eyes, and a protective tone to his voice that I probably liked hearing a little more than I should have.
“I will.” I smiled at him, and climbed behind the wheel of my Juke. Liam backed away from the curb, and I caught him waving in my rear view mirror as I pulled away.
I listened to the radio the whole way back to the farm, not really sure I had heard any of the words that were sung.
Chapter Twelve
“Good morning,” I said to Grandma, reaching for a mug in the cupboard. I noticed that the usual stack of pies was missing for Tuesday delivery. “Where are the pies?”
“Your grandfather decided to deliver them. He had to stop at the hardware store so he saved us a trip.”
“Oh,” I said, filling up my cup. I popped a few slices of bread into the toaster, and pulled butter and homemade jam from the fridge.
“You seem chipper this morning,” Grandma commented. She was moving around the kitchen–broom in hand–sweeping up invisible debris. She was the busiest woman (aside from my mom) that I had ever known. Sitting down and relaxing was an anomaly in either household.
I shrugged. I had taken the sculpture that Liam had given me, propping it up on my nightstand so that I could fall asleep looking at it. Silly, I knew, but it seemed to bring me comfort. I took my coffee and toast and sat at the kitchen table. Luna popped her head up from the chair across from me.
“Grandma, what did you used to do when you were my age?” I asked. It occurred to me that I hadn’t known. I wanted to compare notes since I was currently working on chasing my own endeavors.
“I was in college for starters,” she said, bending to sweep the dust into the pan.
“You were?” I frowned.
“Don’t act so surprised.” She chuckled. “My parents were in the lumber industry, so believe it or not, we had a little bit of money and I was considered privileged to attend HU.”
“You went to HU? What did you study?” I asked, taking a bite of my toast. The raspberry jam was bursting with flavor.
She tapped the dust pan against the inside of the trash bin, letting the debris sprinkle down into the sack. After she put the broom away, she turned to face me. “Art,” she answered.
I sat up straight in the kitchen chair, stunned. “You never mentioned that before,” I said. “What happened?”
“I met your grandfather.” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
“So what, you dropped out of college?” I asked.
“I was madly in love,” she said. “He was the kindest man I had ever known, and when he asked for my hand in marriage, I knew that’s what I wanted more than anything on earth. It was an easy decision, at the time. When Matthew told me he was to inherit the family f
arm, it seemed like such a romantic notion that I just jumped head first into the water.”
“So you gave up on school,” I reiterated. “Grandma, why is it so important that I go back to school in your eyes, when you basically did the same thing as me?”
“I quit for love and a future with the man I love. I had a new responsibility. What you’re doing… It’s not the same thing,” she said. She pulled a chair out from across me, and sat down beside Luna. “Listen,” she said, reaching out to cup my hand in her own. “I love my life, and my children and grandchildren. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. But, there is a part of me–a small part–that regrets not finishing college. Even if I never did anything with my degree, it would be nice to have accomplished something just for myself.” She squeezed my hands, and then let go.
I said nothing, letting her words take root.
The hinges from the screen door whined as Grandpa stepped inside, letting the door slam shut behind him as it rattled against the frame.
“We really need to get that fixed,” Grandma said.
“It’s on my list,” Grandpa said, walking over to kiss Grandma on the cheek.
“Ah yes, the famous, never-ending list of farm chores,” Grandma complained. “Tell me. Where does the door happen to take precedence on your list?”
Grandpa reached up in the cupboard to retrieve a coffee mug, pretending as though he hadn’t heard her question.
“Matthew?” She prodded.
“If it bothers you that much Evelyn, I’ll see to it after lunch.” He sighed in defeat.
“Thank you.”
“Was Beck up when you delivered the pies?” I asked. I was actually kind of disappointed I missed “zombie-hour” coffee with her.
“No, just her aunt,” he replied. “She said to tell you hello.”
I nodded. “Hello,” I said teasingly, taking my last bite of toast. I saved a small piece of crust and reached across the table to give to Luna.
“She’ll get fat,” Grandma warned.
Finding Goodbye Page 17
