by Emma Woods
I exchanged nods with the other three, who ranged in age from late high school to early 30s.
“During the summer, they’re out here each day with the various groups who are bussed in from all over the region. Our volunteers change depending on the day, but these three are always here,” Dave explained as we walked through the barn.
I noticed that the interior was handicap-accessible and clearly created for kids. There were boys’ and girls’ bathrooms, a set of half-circle seating on risers, and everything was colorful.
There wasn’t time to get to know the others before Dave brought us together. He ran through the agenda for the afternoon session and gave us a rundown of the special needs we’d be working with specifically. There were to be a fair number of adult volunteers with this group, and so we would be making sure that everything ran smoothly. I learned that Jake worked with the horses and stable hands, Sarah dealt with kids who were too scared to go near horses, and Chloe oversaw each group’s riding time.
I was listening intently and nodding along when a newcomer entered through the wide barn door and strode over to the group. It wasn’t until he was close to us that I realized anyone was there.
“Sorry I’m late,” Nate Weisert said with an aren’t-I-a-scamp smile.
I was secretly pleased when Dave frowned at him before continuing with his talk. There was no good reason for me to take so much enjoyment from watching Nate not be adored, but there it was. It particularly chafed me that he was a volunteer here, too. Somehow, working with special needs kids didn’t fit with my observations of him, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to give up my superior disdain.
“Emily, will you help everyone get seated once the bus arrives? There are extra chairs in that storage room if the risers don’t work for anyone.” Dave’s eyes met mine only long enough for me to nod before making the next assignment.
Then the sound of the bus pulling to a stop pushed us to action. I watched Chloe and Sarah welcome the group, answer any questions the adults had, and send everyone in to me. The noisy, chattering, wiggly group needed some extra time to get settled, though I had to admit that the kids were extremely cute. Their parents seemed nervous but hopeful that this would be a fun outing.
Once everyone was settled, Dave gave an official welcome, and then called for Jake to bring in the first horse. At the sight of the big creature, the gathered group burst into noise again.
I’d sat next to a little boy named Carlos whose mother didn’t appear to speak much English. Carlos had a deep scar on his head and walked stiffly, but he had a huge amount of enthusiasm for the horse.
“Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!” the little boy kept exclaiming as he rocked in his seat, chubby finger pointing at the big animal.
I exchanged a smile with his mother.
Jake talked to the group about riding horses and staying safe in the barn. He had a fabulous way of connecting to the kids without talking down to them.
I glanced at the faces of the children and my eyes caught Nate’s, who gave me a little wave. I set aside my automatic annoyance and tried on a friendly smile instead. After all, he was a volunteer with this group. Maybe I’d misjudged him just a tad.
“Are you ready to go outside and ride some horses?” Jake finally said and was met with a rousing cheer.
All the children who could walk on their own got to their feet and followed Chloe out the door.
“Are you coming?” Carlos’ little voice grabbed my attention.
I looked down to where he was standing, eyes twinkling, hand held out to me. My heart melted a little, and I said, “You bet!”
The next two hours were filled with helping the group to ride horses around a paddock. The parents walked next to their children as they rode. One girl with cerebral palsy eagerly climbed into the saddle, helmet in place, and beamed out at the world as she rode. A little boy was too afraid, so Sarah took him and his mother to a corral, where he could be near a horse and work up the courage to touch its velvety nose.
I helped out wherever I was needed and mostly avoided Nate, though I will confess that my eyes were drawn to him more often than I cared to admit. By the time the bus pulled away down the long drive and I turned to find him standing next to me, my iciness toward him had thawed a little.
“Nate, show Emily the routine for closing up the kids’ barn,” Dave ordered.
As we swept up, I tried to find a friendly conversation starter.
“How long have you been volunteering here?” I asked. It seemed like an innocuous topic.
However, my cleaning buddy suddenly looked uncomfortable. Why?
Nate took a few more swipes with his push broom before sighing. “I’m actually not a volunteer, technically.”
I stopped my sweeping and cocked my head. This should be interesting.
“I’m doing community service hours.”
“Like, for a class or something?” I queried.
Nate shook his head sheepishly. “It’s court-ordered.”
Disappointment plastered my face. Apparently, Nate Weisert was exactly who I thought he was.
4
“What?” Nate asked. His lovely sea-green eyes were wide and innocent.
I clenched my teeth and tried not to tell him exactly what I thought of him. It doesn’t matter. You won’t know him that long, I coached myself.
“Look, I’m just disappointed.” I looked him directly in the eyes. I’m usually pretty good at honesty, and the least I could do was be straightforward with Nate. Probably part of his problem was that women weren’t direct with him often enough. Game-playing of any kind was not my style, though I’ll admit that I felt a bit self-righteous at that moment.
His lip curled. “Disappointed?”
“Yep. I was impressed that you volunteered with special needs kids. But doing it just because you’re trying to avoid jail time is less impressive.” That was putting it mildly.
Nate laughed, but I could see that my words bothered him. “Lucky for me, I’m not trying to impress you.”
“Lucky,” I repeated with an eyebrow cocked and went back to sweeping.
It wasn’t long before he had his cell phone out and was swiping away at something, broom forgotten beside him. I finished the floor, put away the chairs, and cleaned the bathrooms on my own while Nate busily tapped away on his phone. By the time I climbed into my car, I was more than disappointed. I was disgusted.
“Don’t forget the team meeting Wednesday night,” Doug called before I left.
I waved to him and then drove away. Thoughts of Nate made me angry almost all the way back to town. It wasn’t until I slowed toward Main Street that I was able to call up memories of the kids I’d worked with that day. The kids and their parents had been fantastic. Nate aside, I was glad that I’d volunteered. It had been a very good decision.
When I got home, I found Mae in her room, country music blaring. She danced by the door, carrying a stack of folded laundry.
“Oh, hey there, Emily! Is my music too loud? I can totally turn it down if it’s bugging you.” She smiled, big green eyes crinkling at the corners.
“No, it’s fine.” I sauntered into the room a little further.
Mae’s room was the same size as mine, but with one big addition—the top of the tower was part of her room. It gave her an extra round room with tons of windows. There was a neat little seating area there, as well as a wall of shelves which were filled with all kinds of books.
“Do you like to read?” Mae asked when she noticed me perusing her collection.
I shrugged. “It depends. I like mysteries a lot.”
“I love to read,” said Mae with a bit of a blush. “I can’t help collecting books. There’s a big Friends of the Library book sale in Jackson a couple of times a year. Rosa goes to every one, and I always tag along. You know she’s the town librarian, right?”
“I think I heard that. Birch Springs can’t have a very big library, though, can it?”
“It’s in
an old storefront downtown. Rosa’s done a great job of keeping the old charm while still fighting to make it up-to-date. It’s a part of the county system, so she gets people from all over. A lot of other libraries in the area have folded, but Rosa is determined to keep ours open.” Mae folded herself into one of the flowered armchairs.
I sank into the one next to her and looked out at the view of the front yard. “This is a really great spot to read. The light is amazing.”
“I know. I love it. Whenever I drive past a used bookstore, I always stop now, since I have the perfect place to read. It’s like I owe this room, and Bumblebee House, a good book collection up here.”
We chuckled.
I looked over her volumes and mused, “When I was at school in Michigan, there was this one enormous used bookstore near Detroit that I visited. This guy took over an old glove factory and put his personal collection in, and then opened shop. It was amazing. Oh, and in Oregon, there’s this company of book shops called Smiths. They have a few shops in different towns. I could get lost there forever. They’re great, because they just have stacks of books everywhere.”
Mae was giving me an appraising look. “I think you are a book lover, Emily McBride, whatever you might say to the contrary.”
“You caught me,” I said with a grin. “But I use libraries more than anything else. I only carry my absolute favorite books with me.”
“I think it’s neat that you’re so dedicated to having such few possessions. What a great way to keep from getting caught up in capitalism. I can just picture you driving around with one of those tiny houses.”
“Right? I would love that. If only I had the money to buy a truck and build one of those suckers.” I sighed wistfully.
Mae fiddled with the tassel on the chair’s arm. “Does it ever get lonely?”
“Does what get lonely?” I asked, pretending not to understand.
“I just think that never staying anywhere for long must be hard sometimes. I mean, the fresh start would probably feel good, but you’re the only one who holds your memories. I guess that’s what I like about social media. I’m connected to people who know me and remember the things we’ve shared.” Mae smiled sheepishly. “Does that sound dumb?”
In an uncharacteristic move, I opened the door to my heart the tiniest crack. “No, it makes sense. It is lonely sometimes. My mom and my brother died in a car accident when I was eight. It was just me and my dad after that. Dad was in the Army, and we moved around a lot. He was always busy and didn’t spend a lot of time with me. I think I was just a reminder of what he’d lost when Mom died.”
“Oh, Emily, that’s awful,” whispered Mae. “I hate that you had to go through so much, so young.”
I looked up and savored her words. They meant more to me than when people just said they were sorry for my loss. “Thank you,” I said earnestly. “I guess I don’t really know how to keep ahold of people. It’s lonely at times, but it’s safe. No ties means no obligations.”
“Family can be complicated,” the petite redhead admitted. “But they can also be really great. Where’s your dad now?”
“Denver. He retired from the Army last year and settled in Denver. I think he’s working for a security company. I call him whenever I move somewhere new, so he knows how to get ahold of me.” I really didn’t like talking about my dad. It was time to change the subject. “Where is your family?”
“Oh, that’s an interesting story,” Mae said and sat up straighter. “My parents are missionaries in Colombia.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, I know. I grew up in Colombia, actually. Well, we were in Costa Rica until I was ten, then we moved to Colombia. I came back to the States for college. My sister, Daisy, is nineteen and in her second year at Boise State. She comes to stay here on vacations, usually, though she got a job and an apartment in Boise for the summer.”
“Wow, how cool. How did you end up here in Birch Springs?”
“I took a job at Red River Equipment, whose headquarters is outside of town. Actually, I went to school with Rosemarie. She was a couple of years ahead of me, but we were roommates for a while in this really nasty apartment. She knows how much I love the outdoors, and when she heard Red River was opening here, she called me.”
“Gotcha. How do you like the job? Have you been there long?”
Mae shrugged. “About three months now. I like it a lot. My boss is great.” Her eyes definitely turned a little dreamy, and her fair skin flushed.
Ah, so Mae felt more for her boss than an employee normally did. I was instantly curious about him.
“How’s it going at the Beanery? Oh, and how was volunteering?” Mae changed the subject and I followed her lead, not one to push on personal topics.
“The coffee shop is really good. Matt’s an easy guy to work for so far. Even Sophie is fun, for a high schooler.”
Mae laughed.
“Volunteering was great, too. I loved the kids who were there today. They were so cute up on horses. It was awesome. The staff is so good at dealing with their special needs. Well, most of the staff, that is.” I frowned, remembering Nate.
“Uh-oh. What happened?” inquired Mae.
I rolled my eyes. “There’s this guy, Nate, who keeps showing up at the Beanery and acting really flirty, which I hate. Flirting is so… fake. I’d far prefer having a normal conversation any day. Anyway, then he turns up at the ranch, and I started thinking that I was wrong to be so annoyed at him. I mean, clearly, he’s an upstanding guy if he works with those kids.”
“Right,” Mae prompted. “Something tells me he’s not, though.”
“No!” I exploded. “He’s only there because it’s court-ordered community service. And he left me to do most of the cleanup on my own when he realized I wasn’t going to flirt with him. I can’t stand him!”
Mae grimaced. “Ouch. That would drive me crazy, too. Well, look on the bright side. Maybe his hours will be finished soon, and he won’t be there anymore.”
She was right. I could hope that his time was coming to an end. And Nate was not the kind of guy to volunteer once it was no longer required of him, so our hours together were probably limited. It was something hopeful, at least.
Mae was on supper duty and, since I had nothing more pressing to do, I offered to help. We trouped down to the kitchen, where Rosa was gathering ingredients. The three of us got to chopping and simmering ingredients for what Rosa called an “Italian Extravaganza.”
As we talked and laughed, I felt my tension over Nate ease away. In fact, by the time we sat down to supper, I was in a very good mood.
“Let’s go to the Dairy Treat and get ice cream before ‘Are You the One?’ starts,” Jill suggested.
We all agreed before separating to put on walking shoes and grab our wallets. Birch Springs was small enough that walking anywhere was a manageable task. Lucky for us, the Dairy Treat was on our side of Main Street. The little ice cream novelty shop was open, I learned, from Memorial Day to Labor Day and staffed by local high schoolers. Apparently, it was a popular spot. There were a lot of people in line or making good use of the weather-worn picnic tables.
Though many people called greetings to Rosa or the other girls, we ordered our ice cream and then didn’t linger. We strolled back to Bumblebee House, licking away at our melting cones.
It was my third time watching “Are You the One?” and I had developed definite opinions about the various contestants. We all agreed that Kaci was the worst and were vocal about sending her home. However, Jill and I thought Tara was the best choice to marry Garrett, while Rosemarie and Mae were rooting for Hannah.
We all groaned when Julie was sent home instead of Kaci. Rosa padded past and laughed at us.
“You are all far too invested in that fake show,” she teased.
“None of us deny it,” Jill quipped. “We can handle the truth about our dysfunction.”
Mae and I headed up to the third floor and said goodnight after working out our bat
hroom schedule for the evening and next morning.
As I crawled under the covers, a borrowed paperback Victorian mystery in my hand, I smiled softly. This was more interaction with roommates than I’d ever had before. I had to admit that Mae was right about my life being lonely. I just hadn’t realized it before I had such good friends in my life.
5
My schedule at the Beanery varied some, but it was starting to be the sort of thing I could depend on. Sophie was out of school, and so she was able to work any shift, though Matt never wanted her there all on her own for more than a few minutes. After getting to know our lovable-but-somewhat-scatterbrained, part-time gal, I had to agree with him on that one. We were busiest between six and nine in the morning and three and eight at night. Apparently, the Beanery was the cool place to hang out if you were in high school, and so we caffeinated the bulk of Birch Springs’ youth and sent them home. Therefore, Matt and I shared opening and closing, with me opening most of the time and Matt handling more evening shifts.
This left me free to volunteer at the ranch two afternoons a week and attend the almost-mandatory staff meetings on Wednesday evenings, which also happened to take place in the Beanery. There was a convenient nook with a big table and benches on three sides, which could be reserved by groups who wanted somewhere to meet.
Dave and the other Just Horsing Around crew had welcomed me right in. Though he was supposed to attend the meetings, Nate had so far only made it to one. On the one hand, I found this very annoying. On the other hand, I was able to relax and enjoy getting to know everyone else without him there to make me feel agitated. I wasn’t sure which way was better, but I was certainly good at being annoyed with Nate, no matter what he did.
“It’s time for our annual fundraiser,” Dave announced at my third meeting.
We were all still settling in with our steaming cups and pens and notebooks. I leaned back, blew on my cup of green tea, and waited.
