For some reason, this made me warm all over. He put a hand on my bicep, squeezed it, and he took off, loping to the barn.
Happy
LATER THAT DAY, I wandered back over to the barn to visit Happy. When I got to his stall, I noticed him pawing at the ground, agitated, sweat running off of him. This wasn’t my sweet, docile horse. Something bothered him. I walked outside and called over to Will, who stood next to the corral.
"Can you come here? Is there something wrong with Happy?"
Will came jogging inside, shot into the stall, and put his ear to the horse's belly while Happy moved, agitated, and pawed the ground. He took a step back and looked at Happy, then felt under his jaw.
"Fuck."
He ran outside and called to the wranglers, who were still in the corral with the other horses. "Jimmy! Call Sully now."
Jimmy nodded and started punching numbers into his cell phone, running toward the barn.
"What's going on, Will?"
"Think he's colicking. We're in for a long ride. We gotta act now, though."
"What does that mean?"
"There are no sounds in his gut. Means it's probably not working. His pulse rate is high. Has he been eating?" he asked Jimmy, who had come inside.
"I didn't really notice, but it hasn't been as much as usual."
"Fuck, shit, damn," growled Will.
"He didn’t touch his hay the other day and his stall was clean," I said.
"Oh no," whispered Janine, coming over. "Why didn't we notice?"
Jimmy explained, to me, "With animals, it's like having a baby. They can't tell you what's wrong, they can only show you that they are in distress." He paused, talking into the phone, "Dr. Sullivan, please, it's an emergency." He continued, looking at me, "There are a couple of different types of colic. If it's the impaction type, well, that means something is stuck in his system and we can flush him out with oil or water. But if it's the twisted type." He paused. "Hope it's not." Then he started speaking into the cell phone. "Sully? It's Jimmy at Headlands. I think we have a colicking horse." He walked over to the side of the barn.
"What does that mean, the twisted type?" I asked Will.
"Well, sometimes a horse can't recover from the twisted type of colic. Or it's a really expensive surgery and we don't have the budget for it. And if we can't do the surgery, it means euthanizing the horse."
Oh no. Happy. No.
No animal could get hurt on my watch. Never.
"Should we give him Banamine?" asked Janine.
"What's that?" I asked.
"It's a muscle relaxer," said Will. "It's just a Bandaid, it doesn't fix the problem. It would mask the symptoms for a while but then they might come back. Still, it might make him feel better. What did Sully say?" he asked Jimmy.
"He's on his way."
"This is gonna be a long couple of days," said Will.
Stephanie came in the barn. "Will, there's some woman from Hamilton Development here to see you."
"Just what I need," he spat, and stalked out.
"What can I do?" I asked Janine.
"Sit and wait. It's like being in the waiting room at the ER. We need to see what the vet tells us to do."
I looked out the barn door and saw Will talking with an extremely beautiful woman in black wide-legged trousers, a cream silk blouse unbuttoned one button too many, and fancy stilettos. Her hair was that sort of layered, highlighted, expensive golden blonde, and she was tall, with curves and long legs. She was completely out of place on a ranch, but she looked like she belonged talking to Will.
She represented Hamilton Development? What happened to the guys in the suits? Not that a woman can't be a developer, but she didn't look like she was his regular contact, because he shook her hand, like it was an introduction.
Then he stood back from her, arms crossed, trucker hat back on, an expressionless look on his face. She smiled at him flirtatiously and touched his bicep.
Um, no. He was mine.
He took a step back. She looked like she was pleading with him, and he relented and led her to the ranch office.
I didn't like this one bit.
I went back in the barn and waited for the vet to get there, feeling helpless. The wranglers tried to get Happy to drink, but he wouldn't do it.
About a half hour later, Dr. Andrew Sullivan walked in, a young, red-haired Irishman with freckles. He shook hands with Jimmy, Janine, and Stephanie, and introduced himself to me, with a thick Irish accent as Sully. Then he walked over to Happy and started to examine him.
I waited to the side with the rest of the wranglers, for as long as I could stand it, then I had to leave the barn. Too much tension. It really did feel like the waiting room of an ER and we were waiting for the pronouncement by the team of surgeons. I felt like everything was crashing around me. Happy was in distress. Developers tormented Will. And I needed to deal with my shit about him.
As I walked outside, I saw the development lady stalk back to her fancy car and drive off in a huff, and then I saw Will, off to the side, his face looking thunderous. I ran over to him and tackled him, grabbing him around his waist, hugging him tightly. He squeezed me back, burying his face in my hair.
He didn't say anything, he just held me.
After a little bit, he spoke. "Don't need this shit."
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, nuzzling his chest.
"No," he answered in my hair. But he kept going. "I got a colicky horse. Pushy developers who want my land, thinking that some fucking cunt is going to sway me. She fucking made a pass at me just now. It’s total bullshit."
Oh no. "Seriously?"
"She started taking off her shirt. Like that would convince me to sell."
Now I got pissed too. "Fucking cunt," I hissed.
"I yelled at her to get her ass out of here and she hightailed it. But shit, it's tempting to sell because they're buying up the neighbors. I could sure use the cash to pay for things like horse surgery or my mom's treatment. Can't bring myself to do it and it's killing me."
"Will, you can't sell."
"I know, darlin'."
I felt a horrible trembling come over me. Like I was going to be sick to my stomach and collapse at the same time. But I had to say it because it was true. "If you have to euthanize Happy, and I hope you don't, but I'll support you." And then I burst into tears.
He looked at me, anger dissipating, finger under my chin. "Marie." He hugged me even tighter.
"Can't believe I’d say that. Can't believe I’d think that. But I can't believe you . . . I can't, it's too hard."
"Shh, darlin'. Maybe the horse will be okay."
I sobbed, but managed out, "Maybe you can make some money and buy up the neighbors. Is that a pipe dream?"
"No, it's not. The avocados are coming in now, we should be harvesting a good crop this year. Prices are up too. It's not impossible to be able to come up with a down payment on the neighboring parcel."
"We should go talk with them," I sniffled.
He nodded. "You okay?" he asked.
"No. I feel totally responsible for Happy being sick. I saw that he hadn't eaten the other day. I should have said something sooner."
"Not your fault," he said. "It happens." He wiped away a tear on my cheek with his hands.
"I'm really not happy that some woman made a pass at my man."
"Me neither," he said. Then he stopped. "So you're admitting I'm your man?"
"Yeah," I said. "I am."
"Don't worry, I'm not lookin' at her. It's only you," he said into my hair and then he leaned down and kissed me. Then he broke apart.
"Shouldn't ask this, but I gotta. How come you got so pissed at me yesterday for using the word pussy, when you used the word cunt pretty freely right now?"
"I think I was looking for a fight and looking for an excuse to be mad at you."
He smiled. "Don't need that, do we?"
I shook my head.
"Let's see what the diagnosis is."
>
Mature and Responsible
A FEW TENSE DAYS passed as Happy was given medicine, pumped with water, and we waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
At first, he seemed to get better with the medicine.
Then he got worse.
And then it passed.
He had the impaction type of colic, thank God, not the twist. But still, it made me realize that I lived in an ideal world and I needed to sometimes go out and visit the real world. I was still going to work for my ideal world, but things in real life were messy.
I couldn't save all of the animals. I'd try to. But I couldn't.
Still, if we’d been forced to euthanize Happy, I knew that I'd have been torn apart, but I would have supported Will. I would have cried for days, but there were some grown up decisions that had to be made and that was one of them. I hated it, but it was true.
Thankfully, it didn't get that far, but it was eye-opening for me to know that I would have made that decision. I never would have thought that I would.
But I never would have thought that I’d be dating a Republican, either. Sometimes things weren't always what you thought they would be.
The kids from the ASD program were adorable. They loved riding the horses. You could tell that they were affected by the sensations of the sway of the horse, the movement of riding. While there weren't any huge breakthroughs, there were no major problems, either, and I considered that a victory.
Travis and Trixie were inseparable. Travis's mom planned on getting him an Australian Shepherd when they got back home. Will gave her the number of where he got Trixie.
When the kids were packed up in the van, Will turned to me, "One week down."
So.
That.
Since the night that I had slept in the bunk, I never went back. I slept in Will's bed every night. Every night, he gently kissed me goodnight and hugged me, but that was it. Every morning I woke up with Will's cock poking me in the back. And we didn't do anything about it.
I was sick of it. It was worse because I knew that it was my idea. And my thoughts were getting more and more sexual, since a package had arrived for me that day. I couldn't wait to use it. Still, we weren't done with the moratorium. There were some things that I had put off talking about because I was scared of the answers. No time like the present, I guess.
I turned to him and said, "When you have a second, can we talk?"
"Sure. Now?"
I nodded. We went to his house, to the back man cave with the television, and sat on the couch. He sat next to me, pulling my legs into his lap.
"Can we have a mature discussion about politics?"
He looked at me and held my calves firmly, comfortably. "Yeah."
I reached over and touched his cheek. "Tell me why you're a Republican."
"Don't want to pay taxes."
I looked at him. He let out a breath and continued. "I guess it's just a personal responsibility thing. I'm not opposed to helping people. I do it." I nodded. "Republicans give more to charity than Democrats. But it's just that I don't like being told what to do by the government and I don't like paying for it. The social stuff—gay marriage and all that, I don't care about. Not my issue."
"What do you mean not my issue?"
"People can do what they want in their bedrooms. Don't want to tell them what to do and I don't want them telling me what to do. Don't want someone regulating my land and I don't want someone taking my money through taxes and spending it on stupid shit. Roads? Sure. Schools? Sure. But some program to do I don't know what? No. People can figure that shit out on their own without the government. I don't want to be forced to do it."
I looked at him and listened. "How can you support candidates that I detest?"
"What kind of question is that?"
"I'll rephrase. How can you support candidates who want to build a wall between here and Mexico? Who want to deport all immigrants? Who let corporations get away without paying their fair share in taxes?"
He sighed. "Do you believe in everything that your candidates believe in?"
Okay, he had a point. "No."
"I'm not gonna change that. We can go issue by issue, but I'm not going to defend everything everyone else does. Growing up as a farmer, you can't be liberal around here. Farmers are about water. You ask a farmer what a problem around here is and they are going to say liberal entitlement."
"That doesn't make logical sense, though."
He smiled. "Maybe. I don't care what others do. I'm just me."
"Anything else Mr. Thrash?"
"Probably so, darlin'. I dunno. If you want to know, ask and I'll tell you. Why are you a Democrat?"
"I want to help people. I don't think that people do it on their own and I think that they need help to do it. And I want a clean environment and sustainable future for all the generations to come."
He nodded. "Me too."
"We're not all that much different are we?" I whispered.
"No baby, it's mostly just the name. And some other shit, too," he grinned, "but we can figure that out."
Then he did this maneuver where he moved my legs off of him, laid me down on my back on the couch, and pressed himself on top of me, whole torso to whole torso, his legs between my legs. And he kissed me like he was going to love me up, but he kept his hands to my hair.
It made me hot all over and my pussy throbbed.
And this made me mad at myself. I had needed the time to cool it with Will, and to think about it, but now my body was taking over and it was not good. Days of sexual thoughts were not helping, and now having his beautiful body pressed to mine, was just too much to take.
"Get off, we can't do this for another week."
"'Kay," he said, starting to move off of me, and I grabbed him back.
"Don't go."
He laughed. "Which is it, darlin'—"
I interrupted him. "I need your fucking cock in me and I need it right now. It's been days. You better do it."
"I need it there too but we have a deal, so no."
"No? You asshole.”
He looked down at me, then pressed his forehead to mine. "This was your idea. I want my end of the bargain. No. I want the 'do anything' in a week."
I shivered with the anticipation of pleasure. "You can have it now."
"No."
I shoved him by the shoulders. Of course it didn't phase him. "Stubborn fucking man."
"I'm stubborn? Look in the mirror baby."
"Asshole," I hissed.
"It's been what, a week since you called me that? We just had a mature, responsible, adult conversation about politics and I thought we made progress. So now what is it? You're so focused on the names, on the shit. What is it?" His eyes were flaring, looking at me.
I looked away from him. This was it. This was the problem. After all the names, all of the excuses, all of the shit. I couldn't open my heart to him because I had to leave.
"If I decide to be with you, what will happen to me? To us? After this summer, I mean," I blurted.
"I'll take care of you of course, we can—"
"But how is that gonna work? With me in school, I mean."
"Darlin' I love you but half the time you don't let me get a word in edgewise—"
I froze.
"What did you say?"
"You don't let me talk," he said patiently.
"The other part."
He looked me straight in the eyes, intent. "I love you, Marie. Have since the day you slammed into me gettin' outta the shower."
"You love me?" I started to shake, trembling underneath him.
"Don't you feel it too?"
I just looked at him, eyes wide, unable to answer him. "I don't know," I said in a small voice and looked around in a panic. "I need to take a break for a minute."
And he got pissed. Fast. "Shit," he spat. He got off of me and stood up. "Figure out what you feel, and when you do, come find me." And he stalked out of the room an
d upstairs.
Now what should I do?
My body shook and I felt close to tears. I wanted to run upstairs and talk to him. I wanted to call Amelia. I wanted to figure this out. I didn't know what to do.
Instead of doing the mature thing, I got up off of the couch and bolted out of the house, running as fast as I could to the beach.
Loophole
THE WAVES CRASHED on the beach and withdrew as I dug my feet into the sand. The summer sun pounded on me. I felt like the water and the sun would wash away my emotions: this agonizing need to get away from him. To escape. To get out of there. I needed time to think.
I started walking up the beach, thoughts zooming in my head, buzzing around, and not letting me rest.
Or maybe I needed to stop thinking.
Could I imagine life without Will?
No.
Turning to the waves and watching the splash of the water, I realized that answer came immediately. Even though I’d just been compelled to leave him, the thought of leaving him for real horrified me. So was that what love was?
And then I thought about him.
Not just the overwhelming physical attraction I felt to his beauty and his masculine power. But the way he’d shown me his true nature through what he’d done all summer.
He brought me vegan Republican candy.
He stuck up for Truc.
He apologized immediately when he was an unsupportive dick to me at the disastrous campfire where the fire wouldn't light, and he never did it again.
He made a hippie black and blue tie-dye with James when he didn't want to.
He wore that tie-dye the whole day in Santa Barbara, in public, in front of my ex-boyfriend, when he didn't want to.
I turned and walked the other way down the beach, looking for shells, lost in my thoughts.
He stood out under the stars with me and lay under them spooning with my friends in the back of his truck.
He was the most generous lover I had ever been with. He went down on me first, expecting nothing in return. And the most jaw-dropping, with his dark eyes, tanned skin, and cut body.
He loved his double-amputee mom who’d inspired the program I worked for.
The Stars in the Sky (Giving You ... #2) Page 16
