by E. J. Noyes
I had mixed feelings about arriving in Rio—an understandable excitement for what we were about to undertake, churned up with some serious nerves about my role in the whole thing, layered with wanting Caitlyn to have a great time and an excellent competition. If I’d been able to separate work from the Olympic experience then I’m sure I would have been zinging about like a sugar-hopped-up kid but for now, I felt a little overwhelmed.
I’d been looking around the facilities for about ten minutes when the US Dressage Team horses’ trucks rolled into the Deodoro Horse Complex a little after nine thirty a.m. Caitlyn and the other riders weren’t due for a little while yet and I had no idea if she’d drop her things at the athlete’s village or come straight to see Dewey. Knowing Caitlyn, it’d be Dewey first, herself second.
Eleanor and Wren helped the transport staff unload all our horses and settle them in with some feed and water, and Wren wasted no time hanging an American flag on the side of Dewey’s stall where he couldn’t reach it. They’d taken away his picture of Rasputin, and on the lower stall wall out of reach was the usual laminated page that listed his name, country, owner, groom, veterinarian and a few notes for the team of roving volunteer veterinarians. Also listed were phone numbers for everyone associated with the horse, just in case.
I took my time checking each information sheet—Caitlyn Lloyd and Midfields Adieu (Dewey), Beau Dennison and Gallantoro (Grub), Dakota Turner and Pursuit of Perfection (Pierre), Jesse Waldorf and AGP Solar Flare (Sunny) and our reserve team of Simone Lane and Fürst Dream (Freddo). Satisfied everything was in order, I decided to explore.
Though my office wasn’t quite ready, the equestrian complex was impressive and the quality of facilities eased my anxiety. State of the art and with roomy, airy box stalls, a fully equipped equine hospital and laboratory with all the bells and whistles, the veterinary staff had access to everything we could want. Being inside a military compound meant security was excellent but as I found out, there was a flipside. There was always a flipside.
Caitlyn arrived in a whirlwind just after midday, clearly having come straight from the airport, and rushed into the Team USA cabin equipped with PT equipment, beanbags for chill time, a kitchenette and fridge, and most importantly—air-conditioning. “How is he?” was the first thing she asked and when I assured her that he was fine, the obvious worry about her equine partner deflated and she asked, “And how are you?”
“Delightful. You can leave your bags here. Everyone else has.” I saved my report, checked she’d collected her competitor’s ID lanyard, without which she wouldn’t be going anywhere and guided her toward the building housing the horses. “Come on, I’ll show you where the stalls are. Last I checked about twenty minutes ago, Wren was in with Dewey. Phone signal is a bit weird and intermittent but I’m told they’re bringing in some equipment to help boost it.”
“That explains the radio silence. I’ve been calling her since I cleared customs.”
I touched her shoulder. “All is well, I don’t think he’s taken his nose out of the hay feeder since we put him in his stall. But listen, I’ve had word that the military within the barracks, just over there—” I pointed, “—are going to be shooting. We’ve tried to get them to just…not do that, given the circumstances, but it’s a no-go. ‘They are military, therefore they practice their marksmanship’ was the basic reply to our request.”
“Shooting what?”
“Targets presumably.” I widened my eyes. “Hopefully. But just a heads-up that there’s going to be random gunfire so we can prepare for freak-outs. Mary and Ian will probably call a meeting to let the team know the situation. Nobody is in danger of gettin’ shot,” I hastily added. “But this is an active military facility and they’re adamant that the show goes on as normal, even during the Olympics.”
She deflated, hand on her stomach. “Oh thank God. I’d thought you were about to tell me Dew’s shoes hadn’t made it to Brazil or his feed supplements had been confiscated or something equally as horrifying.” Caitlyn shrugged. “No big deal. We’re used to it.” At my raised eyebrows she clarified, “My neighbor likes to shoot clay pigeons. The horses get used to it pretty fast and Dewey isn’t worried about gunshots. Sheep, on the other hand are a different story. Terrified.”
Grinning, I said, “Good to know. I’ll try to make sure no sheep sneak into the arena.” The visual of huge Dewey galloping away from a tiny sheep was pretty funny. Horses were scared of the weirdest things. I touched her arm, let my fingers linger, wanted to let them linger for even longer. “Now I’ve delivered you safely, I have to get back to my paperwork. Sorry.”
“No problem.” She raised her hand as if to touch my face, then dropped it again. After a quick look around, she took my hand instead. “I have to find Mary and the officials and who knows who else. Then I have meetings and things like that. I’ll catch up with you later?”
If I could learn to not melt into a puddle whenever she touched me that would be really great. I managed a breathless, “You bet.”
Later never really eventuated. Caitlyn had been caught up in whatever the athletes were doing and when I wasn’t checking out the veterinary facilities, meeting other vets and making sure all the feed was correct, I was basically glued to the stalls. Thankfully the horses were eating and drinking and seemed happy in the boxes that would be their homes for the next two weeks.
Me on the other hand? I felt like I’d been hit by a jumbo jet. Jetlag plus excitement plus nerves equaled some serious ass dragging. Given all my charges seemed okay it was time to go find my apartment and sleep. My messages to Caitlyn kept failing and after five attempts I gave up. If she’d had anything serious to talk to me about then she would have surely found me—there were only so many places I could be. I collected my gear from the team cabin, closed the door and checked that the numerical lock had clicked shut.
My fatigue was overwhelming, and I tried to tell myself to get used to it because it wasn’t going to go away any time soon. I’d be run off my feet making sure all the equine athletes were in top form, health-wise. Depending on the schedules for non-competition-day training and competition-day preparation I’d have to juggle my time among the groups—riders, grooms, owners and personal coaches—who’d come along as well.
Then there was the team farrier and physiotherapist, plus Mary and Ian who I sensed might have viewpoints opposing mine over any clinical issues. My job was to ensure every horse was in top form leading into the competition, and if I had to butt heads then I had to butt heads. Deep down I knew that all this work meant there would be very little time for Caitlyn and me to spend together. Just when it was starting to feel like that was a very good idea.
I made one last round of all my horses and said goodnight to the few grooms still there. Being close to ten p.m. they were right on the edge of the curfew when they’d be asked to leave and the security crew would take over. As I approached Dewey’s stall Wren beckoned me over. She looped her headphones around her neck. “Have you spoken to Caitlyn?”
“Earlier this afternoon, yeah.”
“Right. She was looking for you but had to go and was trying to message to let you know but the phones here are so fucked up. She asked me to tell you, if I saw you, that she’s sorry but she had to call her mom and then go back to her room and die of jetlag. Said she’d find you first thing in the morning when she didn’t feel subhuman.”
“Ah. I know that feeling.”
Wren looked me up and down. “So it would seem.”
“You sayin’ I look like shit?”
She grinned. “I am.”
I matched her grin, though mine felt wearier than hers. “I feel like it, truth be told. You finishing up here?”
“Yeah, just making sure he’s comfortable for the night.”
Dewey abandoned his hay and came over to insert himself between me and Wren, leaning over the lower stall door to nibble my shirt and check for treats. I rubbed his face. “Sorry, pal. I’m all out.” He kept frisking me until he hit
my ribs. That was it. The tickly zone was a no-go zone. Giggling and squirming, I pushed him away and received a mopey look in response.
Wren pushed Dewey’s chest to back him up a few steps. “You’re ticklish? Well that explains a few things,” she mumbled.
“Like what?”
Wren’s head snapped up. “Never mind.”
“Oh no. You can’t do that, drop a hint then run away like that. It’s against the rules of…of…”
“Of what?”
“Of not leaving me hanging.”
“Fine. Just this once.” She leaned in, mouth twitching like she was biting back a smile. “You guys are not quiet, and that’s all I’m going to say.”
“Ohhh Christ on a cracker. Really? Goddamn.”
Wren gave me a maternal shoulder pat. “Fear not. It was only me who walked past after dinner the other night. I’m a twenty-nine-year-old grandma, so I came home while the others stayed and drank some more. I wanted to check on Dewster before bed, that’s all.”
I knew I was bright red and tried desperately to push aside the embarrassment. “I have not been this mortified since vet school when I tried to do a rectal pregnancy test on a steer.”
“Why? Only someone right outside would have heard you guys uh, having a great time. There’s no rules against it, as I’m sure you know. So what’s the issue?”
I liked Wren, I trusted her and I knew Caitlyn did too. But I didn’t want to spill my intimate feelings to her. Though I really didn’t have anyone who I could confide in, except Teresa. Even then, our relationship tending to be mostly work-related with the personal sprinkled sporadically throughout. “Timing, mostly.” That was the easiest answer.
“It’s not like you guys have a static immovable timeline though, right? The Olympics don’t go forever.”
No, but Caitlyn’s dressage lifestyle and commitments did apparently. I made a hmm-ing sound of noncommittal “Yeah I hear ya.”
Wren poked my bicep. “For the record, you guys are so adorable. Especially when you’re both trying to pretend you don’t just want to jump each other.”
I wilted. “Great. Is it that obvious?” I’d thought I’d been doing a semi-decent job of not looking like some lovestruck teenager every time I came within a hundred feet of Caitlyn.
“Only to people like me who spend most of their time gauging the moods of Caitlyn and Dewey. That’s my job, as is keeping them calm and happy.” Wren dropped an arm onto the lower half-door and leaned into it. “Looks like you’ve taken over that second part for me.”
I bit my lower lip. “Really?”
She nodded. “This might sound a bit bodyguard-ish, but just give her time to get used to the idea of someone wanting her and wanting her exactly as she is.” Wren glanced around. “Elin Nygaard fucked her over big time and Caitlyn isn’t the sort of person who just moves on from that. But for the first time since it happened, I can see she wants to.”
“I want to, too.”
“Good start. If you’re serious then know that she’s not going to just lie down and accept these feelings. She’s going to fight it like a bronc being saddled for the first time. Fear is a powerful motivator, especially for someone like Caitlyn who spends so much of her life suppressing fear and anxiety so horses don’t sense it.”
“Are you saying she’s going to bite me?”
Wren grinned. “No more than she already has.” The grin faded. “But her fear of being hurt again is huge, and she doesn’t have many people she’ll show that fear to. Every now and then it breaks out and makes her act in ways she normally wouldn’t. I’ve seen it happen before and my gut says it’s going to happen again.”
“I don’t want to hurt her. I just want the chance to—” I cut myself off before I blurted something that shouldn’t be blurted to Wren.
But it seemed Wren knew, despite my silence. She leveled a calm look at me. “I know. Which means you have to show her that and show her in whatever way you have to.”
Apparently she’d said all she felt she needed to because I got a, “Catch you tomorrow” before she settled her headphones back over her ears.
I nodded, hiked my bags up onto my shoulders and wandered off to find one of the cars to take me to my apartment.
If Caitlyn and I could just keep spending time together, sex or no sex—though sex was always preferable—then maybe subconsciously when the time came to make a choice about where we went from here, it would all slot into place for a wonderful yes. I knew it was a sideways approach. But Caitlyn’s fears and my desire…need, yeah, okay, desperation to be with her were at odds with each other. So all I had to do was show her that I wanted her beyond the bedroom. How hard could it be?
Chapter Nineteen
Caitlyn
I’d spent my second morning in Rio making sure I knew where everything was around the equestrian complex, checking the arena surfaces with the other riders and nailing down training schedules and arena familiarization times. I’d also taken a peek at the eventing cross-country course and the huge, technical jumps confirmed that I’d made the right choice as a teenager when I’d decided I liked jumping, but nowhere near as much as the nuance and intricacy of dressage.
Along the back of the building housing the box stalls were tiny modular offices allocated to the veterinarians and management teams. Time to find Addie. The modulars were arranged alphabetically by country, which meant I had to wander along the entire length to find the USA’s office at the end of the row. The humming air conditioners added to the general noise and busyness vibe.
I peeked inside the window and noticed the small office was indeed occupied. Addie answered within seconds of my knock and her welcoming smile made my skin heat up even more than the temperature. She pulled the door wide open and a blissful rush of cool air escaped. “Hey, you. Come on in.”
“Sorry to intrude. I just wanted to see how you were getting on. And…I’m bored.” There wasn’t much to do until the team started training this afternoon and though I loved being with Dewey, staring at a horse eating wasn’t very exciting.
“No intrusion at all,” Addie assured me as she closed the door. “I’ve been meaning to find you after not finding you yesterday but time’s kinda run away from me.”
“It’s fine.” I peered around. The space was mostly taken by a huge desk that had papers and lists spread across the surface along with her ever-present tablet and a laptop. A walkie-talkie with the volume turned down low made constant noise, and she had two phones and some vet equipment taking up the rest of the table space. They’d provided a sink and fixings for tea and coffee as well as a tiny fridge jammed into one corner. The whole impression was claustrophobically cozy. “So, you finally got your own office.”
Addie cleared papers into a neat stack and pulled out the second chair for me. “I sure did. They were having problems with the AC yesterday that they had to sort out before letting us in. The best part is Mary’s already told me the room is all mine. You know how she is about being with y’all all the time.”
I sure did. “Could be worse. It’s kind of like having a mom and a teacher and a boss around all at once.”
“True.” Addie dropped into the other chair and brought her feet up onto an overturned milk crate. “I’m sorry I missed you last night. Wren gave me your message.”
“It’s fine, and I’m sorry I bailed. I tried to hang on but just got flattened around seven. Passed out almost as soon as I found my room.”
“What’s the athlete’s village like?”
“Cozy. Great food. I’m rooming with Simone. Apparently Team USA got one of the better buildings so we have both hot and not-brown water as well as beds, and there’s no exposed wiring so I guess that’s a win? But it’s hectic, like there’s this party atmosphere simmering underneath all the competitiveness. There are so many socks on doorknobs it looks like laundry day and I’ve seen more bare skin in the halls than I care to.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Interesting. I’d heard rumors that the
Olympics is the best time for hookin’ up.”
“Based on what I’ve seen already, it’s no rumor.”
Both Addie’s eyebrows bounced up and it looked like she was only just managing to keep herself from saying something innuendo-laden. She made a tactful subject change. “FYI, I’m on call twenty-four-seven so if you need to reach me you can call my usual number, and also this local number.” She passed me a card. “Or page me on channel three with anyone around here holding a walkie-talkie if you need anything.”
“Anything?”
Laughing, she amended, “Anything relating to your horse’s wellbeing. I believe it was you who said you needed to concentrate on this Olympic thing.” Her voice grew serious. “And you do. You’re absolutely right. As much as I’d love to have you in my apartment for a few hours every night, you need to focus.”
“I don’t want that.” At the hurt expression that flashed over her face, I clarified, “I want to stay all night, every night. But what I want, and what’s practical are at different ends of the scale.”
Her face relaxed into relief. “I know that feeling well.”
“Buuuut, I’ll be done by the end of Monday the fifteenth, assuming we make the Freestyle.”
“You will make the Freestyle,” Addie interjected.
“Mmm. Either way, I’ll be elated or despondent and I’ll need to be congratulated or consoled. You up to the task?”
“You need to ask?” she murmured, the words a quiet husky question that promised something delicious later.
“No,” I mused. “I don’t think I do.”
The look Addie gave me was pure hunger and leaving her like that was both delicious tease and painful torture. But given what we’d just agreed, or re-agreed, now was not the time. She had work, and it was almost time for me to give Dewey his first Rio workout to loosen him up after his travel and start acclimating him. “I should let you get back to it, and I have to go watch the team ride before it’s my turn. Maybe I’ll see you later.”
Addie laughed. “I’d say there’s a very high chance of that.” She glanced at the uncovered window, and apparently came to the same conclusion that I had. Zero privacy. Even for something as innocent as kissing. Of course the trouble with us was that innocent kissing tended to lead quickly into other things. Under the table she touched my knee. “I’ll be around the stalls once everyone’s done with their training sessions. Maybe we could have dinner one night or something? Even if we’re not…you know, I’d still like to see you, talk to you away from dressage-dressage-dressage.”
