Stubborn Hearts

by Hutchinson, Heidi

  “You're so pretty. You know it, too,” Ryan murmured, smoothing her hand down Red's muscled neck. His shine was back, his coat glowed hot like fire. The changes in his diet were having an obvious impact. He nodded his big head in agreement, causing her to smile hugely.

  “Stop flirting with that colt and come give me a hand with the babies.”

  Ryan's head twisted to Jesse's smooth voice coming over the stall door. He had a half-cocked grin on his face and she rolled her eyes. Red went to him immediately, seeking affirmation and affection from his new trainer.

  Ryan witnessed their interaction, trying to understand it. “Have you ever had a horse trust you as quickly as Red?” she asked.

  Jesse blinked in his slow and sure way, indigo eyes catching sunlight and trapping it in a swirl of blue and violet. “A horse trusts you about as fast as you trust it.” He smiled in a way that said he was thinking something secretive about her. “C'mon. I'll show you what I mean.”

  Ryan left the safety of Red's stall and followed Jesse, about a half-step behind and to his left. He would cast a look at her over his shoulder occasionally to be sure she was still there, amused look on his face.

  They entered the paddock where Jesse spent his time starting colts and Ryan held her breath. Two young colts with dark coats stood with stable hands inside the paddock.

  Jesse must've sensed her hesitation because he jerked his head to the side. “Don't lock up on me. They can feel it.”

  He reached for the lead rope on one of the colts and passed it into her hands. “Meet Shy and Mighty. He's going to be your dancing partner today.”

  Ryan looked from Shy to Jesse, thinking this was a terrible idea. Jesse just smiled and made his way to the other colt.

  The next hour was mostly a blur. The things that stood out to Ryan were Jesse's patience, his calm demeanor. Firm in his requests with the starting colts, but not hard. It really didn't take long before Ryan figured out why Red had taken to him so quickly. It was natural. Jesse spoke horse. He could read not only their minds, but their motivations.

  “A horse will reflect what you're feeling, just like a mirror. See how Shy acts nervous? Where do you think he's feeling that from? Not me.”

  The colts would buck and grunt, argue with the lead rope, throw tantrums with being asked to do something they didn't want to. But Jesse was understanding with them. Patient with their rebellion, compassionate with their fear.

  “They're just scared. They don't know we won't hurt them. They're babies. You have to be gentle. Teach them there's nothing to be scared of. Not from you. There you go, touch him with the flag, show him it's soft. Now love all over him. Show him he done good. Beautiful.”

  Ryan and Shy both basked in his praise.

  ***

  Ryan slid the chocolate cake from the oven and blinked hard as tears filled her eyes. “I'm so crazy,” she mumbled to herself. “What kind of a person cries over a family recipe?”

  She set the cake on the cooling rack, her eyes spilling over. She didn't stop them. It was a strange combination of pride and melancholy that stirred her thoughts.

  “I miss you so frickin' much,” she whispered to no one. It was always no one. Not anymore. Never again.

  Another week had passed since her last email exchange with Triston Thomas and Ryan had yet to reply. She wasn't sure how.

  Or more like, she didn't have anything with which to reply.

  That week had been mentally exhausting.

  She'd spent a lot of time in her head and in that damn book. She read it three times in six days. Now, her head was full of Jack London's words. She was mentally gorged on Buck's journey to himself and as crazy as it sounded, she related to the big dog. In a very personal way.

  In a way that had her heart feeling raw and exposed.

  Also that week, she'd spent an inordinate amount of time with Jesse Hart. Not just lunch, but after work, too. He had her helping him with the yearlings and staying busy with the animals. He asked her to accompany him to the track and around the area doing errands. They were eating nearly all of their meals together, in constant communication via text.

  At first she thought he was just keeping her busy, but it was more than that. Wunderkind, indeed.

  The time spent with the young headstrong colts had her reflecting inwardly on her own secret dreams and desires. She found herself creating short stories in her head and feeling the need to express them. And since she was spending a lot of time with Jesse, he was the first to hear about her ideas. She'd also told him about Triston Thomas' assignment.

  Which was what tonight was about.

  She'd decided to make a cake, her mom's recipe, and then write about the first time her mom had taught her to make it.

  But as she stood staring at the beautiful chocolate creation, she began to wonder if she had the emotional fortitude to express such a personal and intense story.

  Her silent phone on the counter caught her attention and her eyes slid that direction, reminding her that she had nothing else to occupy her tonight. All of her weekly obligations were taken care of, Jeremiah was still out of town until tomorrow, even Jesse had said he was busy.

  Actually, Jesse had told her to go home and do her assignment.

  She was assuming he was busy.

  Sighing heavily she took the cake to the table where her laptop was already open and waiting.

  ***

  “How did the assignment come out?”

  They had made it through Jesse's whole first sandwich before he'd brought it up. Ryan was actually hoping maybe he wouldn't bring it up at all.

  Oh, well.

  She shrugged. “I ate an entire cake while sobbing over my laptop.” She fixed the onion that was falling out of the side of her sandwich, stuffing it back where it went. “Posted the story. Sent the link to Triston. Stared at my ceiling all night long. So, it went well I think.” She took a huge bite of her sandwich as Jesse chuckled.

  “Good. First steps are important.”

  “I think you mean painful.”

  “That too.”

  “How are you so good with people? Like, you can read them and understand them and... I don't have that.” She sighed, shaking her head. She didn't have skills like that. Reading people was incredibly hard. Jesse's low chuckle and subsequent choking on his sandwich got her attention again.

  He took a big swallow of his beer and cleared his throat. “I am not good with people.”

  “Sure you are,” Ryan argued.

  He shook his head. “No, darlin', I'm not. You're not like other people. I think that's one of the reasons you and I are such good friends.”

  She smiled and tilted her head to the side. “We're good friends?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You know you're my best friend, stop fishing for compliments.”

  Ryan stilled, warmth spreading through her insides. She'd never been anyone's best friend before. She wasn't ready to embrace that notion fully. It was bigger than she was emotionally equipped to deal with. So she shrugged. “Well, you're not my best friend. I have a dozen or so applications to go through first before I make my decision.”

  “You're such a shit,” Jesse said, his mouth tugged up on one side. “I better not get beat out by one of your asshole uncles.”

  “No,” she declared adamantly. “They're... I don't know where they fit, to be honest. But I don't trust them.”

  “I don't blame you.”

  “I don't get it,” she abruptly stated her aggravation. “I know I'm not stupid. I have a degree in Biology that proves it, but — ugh!” She took an angry bite of her sandwich and continued speaking, bits of bread and lettuce puffing out with her words. “It doesn't make sense! Why won't they just leave me alone? She was a good person and they're acting like she was crazy. Like that's the only reason she wouldn't include them in the will.”

  Jesse nodded, used to her emotional subject changes by now. “But you said she prepared for them to fight it.”

  Ryan swallowe
d, clearing her mouth. “Yep.”

  “So she knew they were no good.”

  “That's so heartbreaking, I can't even wrap my head around it. They were her family. How do you get to a point where you write off your family?”

  “Well,” Jesse cleared his throat. “Sometimes family is blood, and sometimes family is where you feel found.”

  Ryan's eyes got round as she stared at him. “That's amazingly beautiful, Jesse Hart,” she whispered.

  His lips twitched as his eyes skated over her face. “It's a pretty solid philosophy you should maybe think about applying to your life.”

  “Where do you feel found?” she asked quietly, her heart sticking in her chest, wondering if she would ever feel that again. Or if living like an emotional nomad was her new normal.

  Jesse gave her his eyes for several long seconds, his face unreadable. They'd have these moments occasionally, where he would try to tell her something without words and she'd miss it. Her mind scrambled to come up with any amount of probable outcomes, but she came up blank. Then the moment was over, he looked away and licked his lips. “When does the rodeo star get back?”

  “Uh, tonight.” Ryan studied the remains of her sandwich. “But it's a big season. I think he leaves again in a few days.”

  “Do me a favor, Ryan?” Jesse asked, closing the lid of the cooler.

  “Of course, anything,” she agreed immediately. She almost regretted it when she caught sight of the hard set to Jesse's jaw.

  “Tell him about what's going on.”

  Ryan's eyebrows dipped. “You mean with my family? Yeah, I was gonna tell him. I mean, I have to, I won't be applying to UNF when we thought, so—”

  “No, darlin',” Jesse cut her off gently. “Tell him that, too. But tell him everything. About your writing and Triston and me.”

  “Oh.” Her head jerked a little. “Okay.”

  Jesse pressed his lips together. He nodded his head once and hopped off the tailgate. “C'mon. I have to get back early today. Big week.”

  “Oh yeah,” she said, tossing the last of her sandwich into the garbage bag beside the cooler and joining him. “Race day is in ten days. Is Faramir's Fire going to surprise us all?”

  Jesse grinned as he closed the tailgate and Ryan's tension eased with his reaction. “I think...” He cocked one eyebrow at her slyly. “...that you should be there to see what happens.”

  “If you're asking me to accompany the team to Churchill, you don't have to ask me twice,” she said with a smile, before rounding the truck and taking her seat.

  ***

  Ryan tugged harder on her skinny jeans and frowned down at her little pooch that was sticking out, mocking her zipper attempts.

  “Whatever.” She kicked them off and grabbed a relaxed fit pair out of the bottom of her drawer. The snug fit around her hips gave her pause. Even her “fat” pants fit weird. She made a mental note to lay off the beers during lunch from now on.

  “Babe!” Jeremiah hollered from the bottom of the stairs. “Let's go!”

  “Be right there!” she yelled, grabbed her purse and hurried downstairs.

  ***

  Jeremiah wasn't even listening. Ryan knew this would happen. His eyes were wandering around the restaurant, going from screen to screen of the various sports highlights.

  Ryan twirled her fork in her fettuccine Alfredo. She didn't care that much that Jeremiah wasn't interested in her hobbies, but she was discovering she cared very much that Jesse liked Jeremiah. And she wasn't going to have a very good report when Jesse asked about Jeremiah's input. She set the fork down.

  “Miah?”

  His eyes flicked down to her for a half a second. “Yeah, babe.”

  “So, I think I might start writing again. Like I did in high school.”

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  She took a breath. “Jeremiah, I'm trying to talk to you.”

  “I know, I can hear you.” He flashed her a dazzling smile and reached for her hand across the table.

  She took his eye contact as a good sign and plunged ahead. “I've been emailing this writer and he and Jesse both think that — ”

  His hand tightened around hers just noticeably. “Jesse Hart?”

  “Uh huh,” she confirmed. “They think that I should — ”

  “Why are you talking to Jesse Hart?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.

  She was growing irritated with the interruptions. Not being able to finish a thought was a pet peeve of hers. “He's my friend. Am I gonna get to finish my sentence?”

  Jeremiah's eyebrows went up and he let go of her hand. “Yeah. Do whatever you want.” He leaned back in the booth and his eyes went back to the television.

  Ryan chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe she'd try again later when there weren't so many distractions around.

  six

  “I know after I'm gone, you'll be sad for awhile. Allow yourself time to grieve. Allow yourself a few mistakes. Part of living, is knowing when it's okay to fail. After all, failure is just another lesson.”

  Ryan stared blankly at the woman across the table from her. She knew they were related, they had to be. She looked just like her mom. Pretty face, dainty features, almond shaped eyes. Instead of dark brown hair, it was silver white, clipped short. And the age was apparent in the lines around her mouth from years of smoking, which she had tried to do in the conference room after the first thirty minutes of not getting her way.

  Amanda Spore had never allowed Ryan to call her grandmother, or any of the different ways to say it. She was Amanda.

  In all of Ryan's twenty years on this earth, she had been in the same room with Amanda a total of eight times, including this one.

  She often wondered why her mom kept them apart.

  The moment she hit the conference room, it had rapidly become clear.

  Sitting on either side of Amanda was her eldest son Vic and her second eldest son Dennis. Their respective wives had already been asked to leave the proceedings because they couldn't stop interrupting. And Ryan suspected they had been drinking.

  She didn't understand the hatred that looked back at her. She didn't even know this woman. Could someone hate another without having any kind of a relationship with them? Even as that thought finished, several examples from history entered her mind — that was exactly the definition of prejudice.

  Ryan had arrived early, per Kelly's instructions. She'd dressed in a light gray pant suit with sensible shoes, her hair pulled into a sleek ponytail low at her neckline, minimal makeup. She didn't understand these proceedings, only that they were necessary and she was expected to be honest.

  Not a problem. Ryan had never been a fan of lying. It made her nervous.

  She'd smiled at Amanda and was met with a scowl. That's when she knew this was not going to be painless.

  The first real sock to her gut came when Amanda's attorney declared the reason behind this meeting was to discover if Ryan had manipulated her mom's weakened state to her advantage by having her leave the entire sum of her life to her daughter, excluding her siblings.

  Ryan hadn't even known of the will until it was read.

  Faith Zacherson had drawn it up the year after her divorce. She'd actually prepared for this day by ensuring she was in perfect mental clarity at the time it was written. Kelly proved this by submitting documents signed by professionals attesting to Faith's mental health.

  Ryan sat silently, unaware that such documents existed.

  That wasn't all, though.

  Apparently the real issue was that her maternal grandfather, Alexander Spore, had been so disappointed with his wife and the majority of his offspring that when he'd passed, his entire estate moved to Faith, and thus to Ryan. It was a lot larger than Ryan understood during the initial reading. Most of it was in a trust until her twenty-eighth birthday. She'd been afforded a sizable amount to live off yearly. It was still more than she could possibly need. Another amount had been designated for her schooling. If it wasn't used for that, it was
to be returned to the trust and she would be able to access it with the other funds.

  When Alexander Spore's will had been executed, his wife had fought that as well. Also something Ryan had just found out that day. But the pre-nup Amanda had signed when they were married made her attempts a great big waste of time.

  It was looking as though this one would be too.

  Which made Ryan's heart hurt.

  Maybe it wasn't her heart that hurt. Maybe it was just general chest pain. Anxiety over the situation. They wanted the money so bad.

  “How much do you think you need?” Ryan asked quietly, causing Kelly to shift towards her slightly.

  Amanda's eyes narrowed even further. “Need? Haven't you been listening? That money is mine. It should have gone to my boys years ago. I spent thirty-five years with that man, and I've raised his children. That deserves compensation.”

  Ryan's mouth answered before consulting her brain. “Compensation? For marriage and motherhood? Was it really so taxing?”

  Amanda's eyes flashed. “You have a mouth on you, same as your father. He never knew when to keep his tongue either.”

  Ryan frowned. “I'm sincerely trying to clarify. You actually believe you deserve money that you didn't earn to make up for the difficulty of raising your own offspring?”

  Kelly cleared his throat and Ryan's head swiveled his direction. He subtly shook his head once, his lips compressed — either holding back a smile or a grimace, she couldn't tell.

  Ryan took in a slow breath and settled back in her chair, not having realized she'd leaned forward.

  “You didn't earn it either,” Vic pointed.

  “Nope.” Ryan folded her arms over her chest, offering nothing else.

  Amanda rolled her eyes. Vic snarled something uncouth. Dennis pulled at his collar.

  “How much do you need?” Ryan asked again, less gentle this time.

  Amanda observed her suspiciously and Ryan sighed. She didn't really want the money except for the little bit she wanted to use for school. Even then, she was thinking she'd be able to get some decent loans and grants because her grades had been pretty stellar.