The Girl with the Broken Heart

by Lurlene McDaniel

  Sparkle snorted in discomfort, cutting off the banter. Austin pushed back his chair. “I’ll walk her again before dessert.”

  “No, it’s my turn.” Kenzie went to the stall, urged the horse to her feet, and led her outside to the pasture where Blue and Mamie stood, heads down, swishing away flies with their tails. Heat poured down from the sun and up from the ground. Too hot for man or beast, Kenzie thought as she walked. The food she’d eaten lay like a lead weight in her stomach. She felt woozy and light-headed, her heart racing. Taking in gulps of air, she stumbled to the stable, managed to get Sparkle inside, and got herself out of the stall on wobbly knees.

  Austin, putting away food containers, said, “That was a short walk.” He looked up, saw she was in trouble. Rushing to her side, he gripped her elbows. “Whoa! You feeling all right? Come sit.”

  “A little…dizzy. The heat.” She fought for breath.

  She looked pale, felt clammy to his touch. He got her to a chair, where she felt the breeze from a fan. “I found this hiding in the utility room behind some old horse blankets.” He grabbed ice from the food chest, rubbed it along the back of her neck and down her arms with one hand and filled a red plastic cup with ice and water with his other. “Drink this…small sips.”

  She sipped and then held the plastic cup against her forehead, where water droplets cooled her skin. “Thanks. I just…got dizzy….” As the ice melted, Austin stroked wet palms across her throat and the nape of her neck, then along her arms and wrists, her pulse points. She closed her eyes, basking in the feel of cold ice, moving air, and Austin’s hands. His hands. Her eyes snapped open. She moved to elude his touch. “I—I’m okay now. Truly.” He crouched in front of her, a worried look on his face.

  “Are you sure? Your color’s better. Still dizzy?”

  She took a long, slow slug of water to assuage thirst, to regain equilibrium. When she lowered the cup, she smiled to reassure him. “Honest, the ice and water did the trick. I’m fine.” The concern on his face tugged on her. She glanced away. “I think we should bring the other two horses inside. Let’s give all three of them sponge baths. I think it’s the kindest thing we can do.”

  He tipped his head, considering her suggestion. Sponge baths for three horses would take time and energy. They had the time, but he was afraid she would overtax herself. “It’s a good idea, but how about we wait a bit? With daylight lasting so much longer, we’ll have plenty of light later to do the job. And so long as the sun’s out today, I’ll walk Sparkle.” She started to rise, but he gently pushed her down. “I’ll bring the horses in; you sit.”

  Her legs felt rubbery, and she didn’t want to fold in front of him, so she remained in the chair. “They’ll need water.”

  “I’ll handle it.” Austin rounded up the other two horses and shut them into their stalls, made sure each had buckets of fresh water, then returned to Kenzie’s side. “I also have an idea. Why don’t we go to your place and take quick showers? Not sure that mineral oil bath we took is doing either of us any good.”

  * * *

  —

  Kenzie stood under the stream of barely lukewarm water, relishing the velvet feel of it on her skin. She rinsed shampoo from her hair and languished a moment longer before turning off the stream. Feeling thoroughly clean, she stepped from behind the curtain, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her body. She wiped her hand across the mirror and gazed at her reflection, searching for any aftermath of her heart episode, saw none. She’d left Austin on the screen porch waiting for his turn to shower. She’d invited him into the air-conditioning, but he’d refused. “I’m too sticky and nasty to sit on your furniture. I’ll wait here.”

  She went into her bedroom and dressed in a baggy white T-shirt and cutoff jean shorts. Toweling her hair, she emerged on the porch. “Next.”

  He had been thumbing his cell phone, but stood and drank her in with his eyes. “That was fast.”

  “Just conserving water!”

  Her face glowed. Her skin, the color of pale gold, looked soft and supple, her every movement fluid, graceful as a dancer’s. It was all he could do to keep from touching her. “I’ve been listening to music from the tent. Sounds like a real Western bash.”

  She cocked her ear and, recognizing the tune, hummed. “Not the day we planned, is it? Sorry we’re missing the fun.”

  “Hey! What could be more fun than a constipated horse?”

  The sun glowed low and red-orange over the tree line in the back of her yard. Their gazes locked, held a moment too long. “Better get to it,” he said, breaking the connection. He scooped up the shirt and jeans meant for the party and took a wide berth around her. He paused at the door. “It’ll be cooler if you wait for me inside, you know.”

  “But my hair will dry quicker out here.” She flashed her pretty smile, sat, stretched her long legs in front of her. “The shower was a great idea, but I want to check on the horses.”

  “Don’t go without me.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it.”

  * * *

  —

  Austin stood under the water, washing off the film of oil with a bar of soap, the aroma of her shampoo assailing his senses. He kept seeing her leaving the stall weaving, her face the color of milk. For all her earlier insistence that she could work as hard as anyone, today he’d seen her fragility. As his hands had stroked and cooled her heated skin, he’d felt the erratic thumping of her blood coursing in her throat, temples, and wrists. Worrisome. The picture shifted to her coming onto the porch, cheeks glowing, eyes bright and sparkling. Two Kenzies—one guarded and turned inward, the other incredibly open and beautiful. Desirable. He switched the water from warm to cold, letting it stream over his head and body until he shivered, hoping to rinse away her image from his brain. Do. Not. Touch.

  When he returned to the porch, she was replaiting her hair. “Almost done.”

  He watched, fascinated, as her fingers artfully intertwined three separate sections of hair into a single braid. She picked up a scrunchie from her lap and wound it around the small hank of hair at the bottom. Her simple, graceful movements looked incredibly sexy. “There,” she said, smiling and rising. “All set. Ready to go?”

  “Totally ready.”

  On the walk through the woods tinged with blue shadows, he felt the burner phone vibrate from deep inside his jean’s front pocket. His caller would have to wait; it’d likely be hours before they could connect. He slid a glance at Kenzie walking beside him. In the waning light, she looked as soft as an impressionist’s painting, as vulnerable as a child. He clamped his jaw shut. What had he gotten himself into?

  In the cooler air of evening, standing on opposite sides of the horse, Kenzie and Austin gave Sparkle a sponge bath out of water buckets. Kenzie spoke soothingly to the mare as she worked, but whenever her eyes met Austin’s, he’d wink or cross his eyes, making her smile. Sometimes she’d flick water on him, and he’d duck, challenge her to try again. After finishing, Kenzie put the ailing horse in her stall, and they tackled sponging down the other two horses as well, then tucked both inside their stalls for the night.

  By the time the work was finished, stars glowed in the sky. With all the horses cared for, Austin pulled the two metal chairs out onto the grassy area between the hitching post and the pasture’s fence. He set the chairs side by side so that they’d have a clear view of the sky above open pasture land. “How about we attack those desserts?”

  “I thought you’d never ask. Afterward, I’ll do the Sparkle Walk of Hope.”

  Kenzie snickered at his description of their all-night task as she went inside. After rummaging in the ice chest, she returned with two plates of cake thick with buttercream frosting and brownies shot through with chocolate chips and pecans.

  “You didn’t tell me about the cake this afternoon.”

  “Surprise! Two desserts.”

&n
bsp; As they ate, stars shook out like white confetti on black velvet. Sounds of music from the party tent floated on the smallest of breezes to join the music made by tree frogs and crickets from the woods behind them. In the distance, sprays of color began to shoot into the night and send sparkling lights cascading downward. Kenzie pointed. “Fireworks! Look! I thought there was a moratorium.”

  “It’s July Fourth. No town is going to dump their fireworks display. I heard Windemere would launch from the fairgrounds.”

  Kenzie kept her eyes skyward, enjoying every array. “When I was growing up, Caroline and I—” She stopped, took a breath. “Sorry, didn’t mean to say that.”

  He waited a few beats before saying, “Feel free to talk about your sister. In my opinion, sharing good memories of good times is a good thing to do.”

  Kenzie watched the sky as a brilliant waterfall of colors cascaded in a downward shimmer, reviewing childhood memories—the ones to keep and the ones too painful to release from the cages where she’d stuffed them. She set down her plate. “I think you would have liked Caro. She was sweet, kind, happy, loved making friends. If we were standing in a line waiting for something, Caro chatted up the person behind us and in front of us. She couldn’t help herself. She was very trusting.” Until she trusted the wrong person, Kenzie thought. Good memories only. “My sweet sister led with her heart, if you know what I mean. She wanted to be liked by others; it was important to her. We were different that way. Exact opposites, I’d say.”

  “Well, I think you’re kind. I’ve seen you with the horses, how you light up whenever Mamie nuzzles you for a treat or if Sparkle ambles over for a scratch behind the ears. They trust you. I’ll bet when you let someone inside, you become a friend for life.”

  She cut her eyes sideways, but Austin was staring into the distance as another flash of color filled the sky. “I wasn’t much of a friend to Caro when she needed me. She used to talk to me about everything. But she never told me what she was going through at school last fall. She never told me about the sexting, the photos, or the bullying. She’d even asked me to come home for Christmas, and I didn’t. I should have checked up on her, kept in closer touch. Instead…” Kenzie’s voice trickled down.

  Knowing that Kenzie was caught in the quicksand of guilt, Austin could have said, “It wasn’t your fault….Don’t blame yourself,” but knew such phrases were overused by people who didn’t know what else to say. Kenzie wasn’t asking him for absolution, so he sat still, letting the night sounds cover her silence.

  Minutes later, her voice came as a whisper in the night. “We attended this huge private school complex, three separate campuses, all with stellar academic programs, and every sport, club, and arts program you can imagine. I graduated in June, and Caroline moved into the high school campus as a freshman that fall. I could have, should have helped her navigate the pitfalls. Many of the seniors, juniors when I knew them, were entitled, you know? They thought they were special, above everyone else.”

  “Yeah, every school has slots. The nerds, the jocks, the popular crowd, the wannabes, the rebels—there’s nothing new under the sun.”

  She nodded, knowing he understood. “Our high school also had hierarchies like you described. But at the very top were the Untouchables—kids who got away with anything and everything, and teachers and administrators who glossed over their sins.”

  “That happens in real life too.”

  “They killed Caroline’s spirit, you know. Those nasty posts online tore her apart. She never said a word to me about what was happening to her while it was going on, and I was too caught up in college life to notice she’d stopped communicating with me.” Kenzie’s tone was melancholy. “And in the end, he destroyed her.”

  He. Austin’s thoughts flew to the first time Kenzie had poured out Caroline’s story. He said he loved her….He posted the photos on social media. Austin wanted to ask, “Who is he?” but held back. Knowing the identity of the mysterious guy who’d crushed Kenzie’s sister wouldn’t change the story’s outcome. Caroline would always be gone. He blew out a breath of frustration.

  Just then, the sky lit up with a flurry of fireworks, rockets launched one right after the other, bright, beautiful colors falling downward like colored rain, followed by faint sounds of popping. Kenzie stood. “Don’t go yet,” he said.

  “Why not? Show’s over.” Austin heard a tremble in her voice as she turned toward the stable. “I’ll take Sparkle on her walk. You can have the next shift.”

  He didn’t try to stop her, only sat and watched as she led Sparkle around the field, Kenzie’s white tee catching ambient light from the stable and giving her a ghostlike aura of floating in the dark.

  * * *

  —

  In the gray light of the morning, Austin crouched beside a sleeping Kenzie. At around three a.m., sitting bolt upright, back braced on Sparkle’s stable door and long legs stretched out in front of her, she’d fallen asleep. Instead of waking her, he’d found a couple of winter horse blankets in the tack room, made a pallet on the floor, gently tipped her on her side, covered her with a lightweight blanket, and eased a folded saddle blanket under her head as a pillow. For the rest of the night, he walked the horse and kept vigil over Kenzie.

  Kenzie slept, curled and snuggled, and Austin couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her skin was the color of pale porcelain and looked as fragile. Before she’d drifted off, he’d noticed dark circles under her eyes, and her breathing sounded labored. However, once she slept soundly, her breathing eased. Kenzie was a solitary person, a girl who’d lost trust, first in her father, then in her sister, who had shut Kenzie out of her life. He wished he could change things for Kenzie Caine, the girl with a broken heart, who had confided in him. He was finally understanding she had no one else.

  He wanted to touch her, smooth her hair, which was partly undone from its plait. He wanted to bend down and kiss her awake. He pushed aside the urge and sat back on his heels, knowing that he was no Prince Charming. In the end, he, too, was going to betray her trust.

  * * *

  —

  Kenzie awoke to the rich aroma of fresh brewed coffee. She blinked, momentarily confused, then glanced over and saw Austin grinning and holding a steaming mug toward her. “Good morning.”

  “What…what happened?”

  “You fell asleep, and before you chew me out, I decided to let you stay asleep. Teammate decision.” She reached for the coffee, letting the fragrance infuse into her senses before sipping the black elixir. “And FYI, about forty minutes ago, I walked Sparkle and—drumroll—success!”

  “She did the deed? Really?” Kenzie’s sleepy smile lit up her pretty face.

  “Indeed!” He winked. “And she’s feeling a whole lot better.”

  “That’s good news. Doc should be here in a bit for a recheck.”

  “While we wait, you want some breakfast? We have leftover cake. I left you a piece.” She wrinkled her nose, threw off the blanket. “Come on,” he chided, still crouched. “Think of it as a doughnut on steroids.”

  She ran her tongue over her front teeth, made a face. “I want to go to the house, wash my face and brush my teeth. I’ll grab some juice and a protein bar too.”

  “Not fair!”

  “Oh, don’t sulk. You can come with me.”

  They walked through the woods that, despite the early morning hour, foretold with clinging dampness the rising humidity. The day would be another scorcher. At the house, she freshened up, untangled her braid, and smoothed it into a ponytail. She returned to the kitchen to see Austin holding open the door of her refrigerator and poking around. “I see eggs,” he told her.

  “Ciana keeps me supplied from her henhouse.”

  “I can cook us an omelet. Beats a protein bar, don’t you think?” He pulled out the refrigerator drawers. “Don’t see much else, though. What the heck do you eat?”<
br />
  She shrugged. “I keep forgetting to grocery shop.”

  “We should do that today after taking care of the horses.”

  “We?” She arched an eyebrow.

  Tactical error. He had to stop thinking of them as a unit beyond working with the horses. They weren’t. He distracted her with, “Score!” and held up a block of cheddar cheese shoved far back in a vegetable drawer. “A little moldy, but I’ll cut off the bad spots and toss fresh cheddar in the eggs. Why don’t you sit while I cook?”

  Minutes later they were eating scrambled cheese eggs and drinking orange juice and fresh coffee. “Tastes yummy. And you were right, it beats a protein bar.” He’d been uncharacteristically quiet. She set down her fork. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded, concentrating on his plate. “A favor really, for this weekend.” He looked up, his blue-green eyes unsullied by lack of sleep.

  “What kind of favor?”

  “There’s a big walking horse competition at the fairgrounds this coming weekend. I want to go, and I’d like you to come with me. I know it’s a lot to ask, when you have free time coming after our all-nighter—”

  He interrupted. “I don’t mind going. Might be fun.”

  She brightened. “It’s a good-size competition, too, everything from a lead line category for kids to juried competitions in flat shod riding. And Big Lick events.” He gave a questioning look. “Those events are supposed to be ‘humane’ in this show,” she quickly explained. “Short stack shoes properly applied, ball chains weighing less than six ounces around the top of the hoof, when horses were trained to high step. Personally, I think it’s a cop-out. To my mind, it’s still a form of soring. I don’t mind going alone, so don’t feel obligated.”

  The look in her eyes told him she had an agenda she wasn’t going to mention this morning. He sipped his black coffee. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather do with my day.”