For The Love of Horses (Pegasus Equestrian Center)

by Diana Vincent

  She flashed him a weak smile and then hunched over the menu in front of her. He noticed her shoulders heave up and he heard her sniff.

  Is she crying? “Laila, something bad happened between you and Warren. Just tell me.”

  When she looked up, he saw tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. She hastily brushed them away. “He practically raped me Saturday night,” she stated grimly, and ducked her head again over the menu, allowing her hair to fall forward, obscuring her face.

  “Oh no,” River breathed out. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I see your party has arrived,” a bubbly waitress suddenly appeared at the side of their table. “Are you ready to order?”

  Laila shook her head over the menu.

  “Can I start you out with something to drink while you’re deciding?” the waitress asked.

  “Coffee,” Laila muttered without looking up.

  “And one more coke,” River said to the waitress as she set a coffee mug in front of Laila and poured out from her ever present carafe.

  “Perhaps another plate of nachos?” the waitress suggested in her overly cheerful tone.

  “No thank you, just the drinks. We’ll order in a few minutes.” As soon as the waitress bustled away out of hearing, River asked again, “What happened?”

  “I don’t know what happened over there, but Warren is not the same man I knew last summer. That man was interesting to talk to, fun to be with, and sex with him was fantastic. Now he talks louder, laughs harsher, and drinks too much.” She choked back a sob, still with her head bowed, before she could continue. “I told you he called me to meet him Saturday night, at his buddy’s apartment. As soon as I got there his buddy left. I don’t think he was supposed to leave Warren alone, and he definitely shouldn’t have left him alone with me. Warren was already very drunk. I thought he called me because we were friends, but he just wanted an easy lay, and guess who’s always good for it?”

  “Laila, don’t,” River admonished.

  She looked up with a wry smile. “Well, it’s true, and on the way over to meet him, I had every intention of having sex with him. You know how I am.”

  “I like how you are,” River said.

  With a short, ironic laugh, she continued, “The first thing he did when his buddy left was pull me into the bedroom. He kept calling me a whore and worse; and saying things like ‘you know you want it’. Okay, I said almost raped; I didn’t try to stop him but that’s because I was afraid. It was so awful.”

  “Did he hurt you?”

  “No, he was rough but he didn’t hurt me…not physically; it’s just…” Her shoulders shuddered and she shook her head. “I had expected him to take me out to eat or something first, so we could catch up and talk… He really scared me; I was afraid he would hurt me.” With another shudder, she fingered the corners of the menu nervously. “He wouldn’t even use a condom… I don’t think he was in Iraq. He kept saying very insulting things about people over there and something he said makes me think he was in Afghanistan. River, I think he’s in Special Forces now.”

  “Oh, man…”

  “He showed me this scar across his thigh but it looked healed. He said something about an explosion and something piercing his leg. He wouldn’t tell me anything more about it.”

  “Maybe a buddy or even more than one were killed in that explosion,” River said.

  “That’s what I think. Maybe he feels responsible, but…” She looked up and pushed the menu away. “Here comes Miss Sunshine; we better order.”

  “Are you two ready?” the waitress chirped.

  “Soup; what do you have today?” Laila asked.

  “Homemade chicken and dumpling, vegetable beef, and our signature chili.”

  “I’ll have the chicken soup,” Laila stated and handed over her menu.

  “Make it two,” River said, his own appetite diminished as he listened to Laila’s story with his stomach knotting.

  “Will that be all?”

  They both nodded, and the waitress left.

  “Go on,” River encouraged when the waitress was out of hearing.

  “I wanted to leave as soon as I could; right after he was finished with me. But he said, ‘you’re not going anywhere, cause if you do…’ And then he pulled out a gun from under the bed and he pointed it at his head.”

  “Oh God!” River said in horror, his eyes widening as he listened.

  “I don’t know if he’s suicidal or not. I don’t know if he would have pulled the trigger if I tried to leave, or even turned the gun on me. I don’t even know if the gun was loaded. I was just too scared, so I stayed. I offered to drive him to his old house to see his mom and Steve, but he just started calling his mother horrible names; worse than what he called me. So I was stuck there; waiting for him to pass out because he sure drank enough. He finally did around three in the morning, and I got up and went into the living room, but then I didn’t feel like I should leave him alone. His buddy didn’t come home until late morning, but at least Warren stayed passed out so I didn’t have to deal with him again. I asked his friend what happened over there. He said he couldn’t tell me, but he did say that Warren was getting psychiatric treatment. Supposedly he was doing better; that’s how he got a weekend pass. I think he just figured out the right things to say, to convince them he was ready for a pass.”

  “You should talk to Mrs. Montoya,” River stated.

  “I know,” Laila agreed. “I just need a little time to process all this. I mean, I will talk to her, but I want to get my own head together over this, because I want her to see that I can handle my own problems.” She smiled and added, “I already feel a little less frayed just talking to you.”

  “I wish I could help you more.”

  “You know, I have to get over feeling like it’s my fault that all the men in my life are violent and abuse me…except for you; you’re the only male I trust.”

  “I’m sorry, Laila; I mean, not that you trust me. I’m glad you trust me. But I’m sorry men can be so evil. I guess I don’t know too many decent men either. My father sure is an asshole and so is Steve.” He thought for a few minutes. “Warren didn’t use to be like that.”

  “I know.”

  “I wish you could have met my friend João. He’s the one who died of a heart attack a while ago. I still miss him.”

  “Yeah, from what you’ve told me about him, he does sound like a decent person. Well, here comes our soup.”

  “Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked in her sparkly voice after setting down the bowls of soup and refilling Laila’s coffee mug. She looked at River expectantly.

  “No thank you, we’re fine.”

  After the waitress left, Laila said vehemently, “I just can’t believe I let it happen to me again.”

  “You didn’t let it happen. You are not responsible for Warren’s behavior.”

  “I know that but…thanks. Intellectually I know I’m not responsible. It helps to hear it from you anyway.” She pulled her bowl of soup closer and stirred the contents nervously. “How could I be so stupid? I had a hint something was wrong when he first called me. I should have left the moment he started to pull me toward the bedroom, but I still didn’t know how messed up he was. I’ve promised myself to never be a victim again – never to leave myself vulnerable.”

  “Quit blaming yourself,” River tried to soothe her. “Warren was your friend. The old Warren would never have been rough with you. How were you supposed to figure all that out with just a phone call? I mean, you’re the smartest person I know.”

  “Thanks.” She took a bite of soup. “Mmm, this is good.” They both ate in silence for a few minutes before Laila continued, “I had a good relationship with Warren before this, so it’s not like I’m seeking out the same kind of men. I expected the old Warren when I went to that apartment.” She sighed, took another bite and after swallowing, said, “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Warren anymore. How are things going for you with Janice Mo
ntoya?”

  “Okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “Don’t you know? I know you two talk all the time,” River asked, eyeing Laila suspiciously.

  “Yes, we do, but she doesn’t say anything about you. You know that stuff is all confidential. But I tell her things about you, because I don’t have a professional relationship with you.”

  “Thanks a lot,” River said sarcastically.

  “You should open up to her.”

  “Why? I really don’t have problems anymore.”

  Laila waited until she swallowed another spoonful of soup before she snorted in disbelief. “You may be in a better environment now, but living all those years with your father and your aunt has hurt you. You’re suspicious and distrustful of people and I think you have a lot of prejudices.”

  “I do not,” River insisted. “I’m certainly not prejudiced.”

  “You’re prejudiced against people with money and people with authority…power.”

  “Right, Miss Psychology major,” River said with a short laugh.

  “You have issues…you’re carrying around baggage,” she said the words impishly and for the first time, her face relaxed into a genuine smile as she teased him. “The next time something bad happens to you, and believe me, it will; I can see you withdrawing into yourself and shutting people out.”

  “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

  “Oh sure,” she said looking at him pointedly. “Life is just a bowl of cherries.”

  “Okay,” he acquiesced. “And I do think Mrs. Montoya is a nice person. She is different from all those other counselors.”

  “So, talk to her.”

  “I don’t have anything to tell her.”

  “Tell her how things are going; how you feel about things…like how you feel about Sierra.”

  “I do tell her how things are going,” River admitted.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Laila looked at him with a leering expression. “How are things going with little Sierra?”

  “Just fine.”

  “Does she know you’re with me tonight?”

  “I didn’t mention it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t think I needed to.”

  “She’s jealous of me, isn’t she?”

  “I don’t know…sometimes I think she might be…a little.”

  Laila laughed. “She’s probably the only person in the world jealous of me.”

  “Laila, quit putting yourself down.”

  “Now who’s the psychologist?”

  They both laughed and it seemed some of the heaviness of their mood had lightened.

  “Want the rest of this?” Laila asked as she shoved her half-eaten bowl of soup toward River.

  “That’s all you’re going to eat?” Even though he thought he had lost his appetite, he nevertheless didn’t have any problem finishing his own bowl of soup. He pulled hers in front of him.

  “I’ve had enough.” Laila opened up a package of crackers and took a bite while she watched River eat. She laughed, looking at the cracker. “Remember that night we met? You were eating saltines with ketchup.”

  “You remember that?” He smiled, looking up from his bowl.

  “You were so cute. Hey, we’ve both come a long way since then.” She finished the cracker and said, “I think I want one of their pecan brownies with ice cream and hot fudge sauce. Want to split it with me?”

  “Sure. You must be feeling better.”

  They placed the order when the waitress returned. Their conversation turned to more mundane things until the dessert came.

  Laila practically moaned as she spooned in bites of the rich chocolaty flavors. “Mmmm, chocolate is the universal cure-all.”

  River laughed, took one bite and left the rest for Laila, glad she was enjoying the dessert.

  When they finished, Laila insisted on paying the bill. Then River walked her out of the mall to her car, his arm around her protectively.

  *****

  Chapter 7 Shopping

  Don’t try to force harmony by constantly hunting for it, which will make you ride more mechanically. Rather, focus on feeling your horse and wait for harmony to happen as a result. – Klaus Balkenhol

  *****

  “Here we go…perfect,” Allison exclaimed pulling a metallic-green, deep vee-necked top off the rack and holding it up in front of her. A row of dark green velvet bows marched down the middle of the top.

  “Oh, please,” Sierra groaned and they both laughed at the hideousness of the garment. “For you or for me?”

  “You, of course. I’d never be caught dead in a monstrosity like this.” They laughed again as Allison hung it back on the rack.

  “Okay, this one’s for you,” Sierra said in a wicked tone, holding up a vivid pink turtleneck top, patterned with equally bright cherry red roses.

  “Ohhh,” Allison exclaimed, “something my grandmother would have worn. Please, put it back before I have to have eye surgery!”

  Laughing, they continued to shuffle through the clothing on the half-price rack, picking out anything in a ridiculous style to offer each other.

  “Hey, how did this end up here?” Allison lifted a russet-colored, tailored wool jacket off the rack and held it up to Sierra. “What do you think?”

  “It’s cute,” Sierra agreed. The jacket had a suede-trimmed front placket that closed with three fat, wooden buttons, a small breast pocket with matching suede trim, and two buttoned flap pockets near the short waist. She admired the garment, but had no idea what to do with it. “For you?”

  “You, of course,” Allison said with a twinkle in her eye. “That’s one advantage of being as tiny as you are; no one else could fit in this jacket. That’s the only reason I can see something this nice ended up on a sale rack.”

  “What would I wear it with?”

  “Come on.” Allison grabbed Sierra’s wrist, and holding onto the jacket, pulled her friend along to follow her. “Those print shirts we saw in the front of the shop; there was one…”

  They found the display and Sierra watched in awe as Allison shuffled through the rack of shirts, holding out a sleeve now and again against the jacket. “Yes, this is the one,” she cried triumphantly, and held up a shirt with narrow stripes in shades of olive green, a darker green, and two shades of brown that coordinated with the russet color of the jacket. She arranged a side of the jacket over the shirt so Sierra could see how the colors blended. “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful!” Sierra exclaimed in appreciation.

  “Good, try it on.” Allison guided Sierra to the fitting rooms. “Go on in and put those on. I’m going to see if I can find a skirt or slacks or something to wear with.”

  Obediently, Sierra followed a clerk into a vacant dressing room. She pulled off her sweater, undid the buttons of the shirt, and then slipped it on. She did like it; how the brushed cotton fabric felt against her skin. Then she undid the thick buttons of the jacket, admiring the swirling wood patterns, different in each button, and how well the dark wood blended with the color of the jacket. She slipped her arms into the lined sleeves and was adjusting it around her shoulders when she heard Allison call out.

  “I’m in number three,” Sierra answered.

  Allison burst into the dressing room with two skirts and a pair of slacks. “I wasn’t sure about the colors,” she said, holding each garment up to the jacket on Sierra. “Yes, this one is perfect! Try it on.” She handed Sierra a dark green wool skirt in a narrow a-line that fell to just above the knees. The green in the skirt matched perfectly with the darker green in the shirt.

  “Wow,” Sierra breathed out as she studied her image in the full-length mirror. She really did like the outfit’s tailored lines and how well the colors complimented each other. This was a style that did suit her. “Allison, I never would have known what to look for to put all this together. I love it!”

  “You look fantastic,” Allison
said sincerely as she studied Sierra. “Definitely a good look for you – very English countryside; the horsey, fox hunting set, you know,” she added in a fake British accent. “Now, try this pair of slacks.”

  The slacks were too full in the hips for Sierra’s trim figure and the wrong shade of brown. But the color of the second skirt, a pull-on knit with a gathered waist and short hemline, matched perfectly the russet of the jacket.

  “Great, buy both skirts and you’ll be able to vary the outfit. Plus you could wear regular jeans as well,” Allison advised.

  “It’s awfully short,” Sierra commented, studying her bare knees in the mirror and thinking how cold the weather had been lately.

  “You could wear leggings or tights. We’ll see if we can find a pair of tights in either the green or russet color. And, you’ll need a belt for the green skirt and I think boots. You need a pair of boots.”

  “Allison, this is already going to cost close to three hundred dollars,” Sierra protested out of habit, forgetting she had enough money, especially since she hadn’t bought any new school clothes this year.

  “Oh, I forgot how poor you are, miss owner of a horse and with a job,” Allison said in a mock sympathetic tone.

  Laughing, Sierra surrendered. “You’re right; lead on fearless shopping leader.” When Sierra’s friend João died of a heart attack over two years ago, he had remembered both her and River in his will. He left her Fiel, as well as a fund of money to take care of all the expenses of a horse and rider for many years. Since Sierra worked off Fiel’s board at Pegasus, she had all the money that would have gone to his board to spend in other ways, and since she had spent hardly anything, she had accumulated quite a fat bank account.

  Leading the way, Allison took Sierra to the accessories section and helped her pick out a leather belt and then two scarves; one in a print of fall colors that she told Sierra she could wear with the jacket and a plain tee, and one in a fusion of greens that went well with the shirt.