by Liz Isaacson
Natalie nodded, noting the low lamplight and how everything seemed to be in the exact same spot as when she’d left last night. Owen wasn’t messy, but he didn’t straighten up all the time either.
He crossed to the corner of the room by the television and set his guitar in its stand. She wanted to ask him about Nashville, and what had happened there, and why he didn’t sign a second record deal. But he said, “Well, I best be off,” and headed back out the front door.
Natalie employed all her self-control to keep from watching him stride down the sidewalk to his truck. No need to be obvious, she’d told herself on the short drive over.
With nothing to do, and another two hours to kill, she lay on the couch and pulled the same blanket she’d used last night onto her legs. After setting an alarm on her phone for seven-thirty, she drifted back to sleep, Owen’s clear, crisp voice ringing in her ears, singing the song he’d written for her all those years ago.
Owen couldn’t explain his bad mood. Maybe because he’d ended one day with Natalie as the last person he saw, and started the next with her as the first person he saw. He’d often dreamed of a life like that with her. A life where they were married, and raising a family, and sharing their deepest fears, ambitions, feelings, aspirations.
And this…this shell of that wasn’t good for Owen. He’d lain awake last night until he’d managed to convince himself everything would work out. But seeing Natalie this morning before the sun had risen had rankled him.
He didn’t do things halfway, and this new partnership with Natalie felt like halfway. Not all in, not all out. Tell her goodnight, welcome her in the morning. Let her take care of Marie, make dinner, watch movies. But then watch her disappear into the night. No, Owen didn’t like that at all.
And that was the real problem.
“It’s not gonna work,” he muttered as he pulled into the parking lot at Silver Creek. He was glad he hadn’t rushed himself to cancel the other two interviews. Not that he’d had much time. Natalie had stayed until almost nine o’clock, and that felt like midnight to Owen. He hadn’t been able to do much more than kick off his boots and collapse on his bed, Tar Baby at his side.
He killed the engine in his truck but didn’t get out. His boys didn’t deserve his bad mood. Several of them came from less-than-ideal home situations, and had turned to gangs or drugs as a way to belong. Several of them had fathers who brought their bad moods home and took out their frustrations on their wives and children. Owen wouldn’t do that to his boys.
“It’s Friday,” he told himself. “You have the next three days off. You don’t need Natalie—or anyone—until Tuesday. It’ll work out.” These were the same things he’d told himself last night so he could sleep. He wasn’t quite sure how it would work out, and he knew from past experience that things didn’t just magically get better. Boots didn’t put themselves away. Dishes didn’t wash themselves because he was tired. Dinner didn’t appear on the table just because he was hungry.
His frustration remained, but he shoved it down, down, down and went to get his boys up for the day.
By that afternoon, he’d managed to put Natalie on a shelf in his head. She stayed there while he did a riding lesson with a group of girls. The twelve-week program ended at the end of the month, and everyone at Silver Creek had gotten pretty good at working with a horse. His boys, especially, as they did it everyday.
“Owen,” someone called, and he turned from the rail where he was watching a tiny fourteen-year-old maneuver a horse named Kimchi around a barrel. Dr. Richards was moving toward him, and Owen went to meet him.
“Trevor’s father is here.” Dr. Richards looked over Owen’s shoulder. “Norah can handle the rest of the lesson, can’t she?”
“She’s gotten real good with the horses,” Owen said. “Let me go tell my boys to come over and put them away when the girls are done. I’ll grab Trevor while I’m there, and we’ll be over to your office in a few minutes.”
“I’ll talk to Norah.”
Owen watched the man tromp right through the dirt and hay in his shiny shoes, a smile forming deep in his gut. Owen loved working at Silver Creek, loved the people he worked with and called friends. They’d been there for him through Tasha’s death, and it had only taken an hour to empty his cabin because so many counselors had come to help.
A rush of appreciation filled him and he tipped his chin toward the rafters in the barn. “Thank you,” he murmured. A peaceful feeling floated down from the sky and wrapped itself around Owen, exactly what he needed to remember that the Lord loved him, was aware of him and his situation.
What do I do about Marie? he asked. When the earth didn’t shake and a voice didn’t rend the air, he turned to go get Trevor and talk to his boys about putting the horses away before they went to their sports class.
He delivered his message and collected Trevor and his backpack. “You excited?” he asked the boy as they walked to the main building.
“Nervous and excited,” the sixteen-year-old said. “I haven’t seen my father in three months.”
Owen clapped his hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “He wants to see you or he woudn’t have come.”
“He didn’t get up to say good-bye to me.” Trevor spoke so low, Owen could barely hear him. He dipped his head and trained his eyes on the sidewalk in front of him. “He didn’t come for Parents’ Day.”
Owen paused, which made Trevor stop too. “Trevor, remember that you’re not the only one dealing with your addictions. You’re not the only one who’s suffered.” He didn’t want to add to Trevor’s anxiety and load, but part of the recovery process was learning that one’s actions weren’t isolated events—and Owen knew better than most. Sure, he hadn’t gotten involved with dangerous substances or broken the law. But he had abandoned his family and broken hearts with a single decision. Trevor had essentially done the same.
“You think he really wants to be here?”
“I talked to him on the phone,” Owen said. “He said he wanted to take you to the game. So yes, I think he wants to see you.” Owen started moving again. “C’mon. You can do hard things.”
Trevor came with him, constantly adjusting the straps on his backpack. Owen understood the squirmy feeling. When he’d come crawling back to Gold Valley, he’d had to apologize to his parents and Tasha, who was married and had a one-year-old baby Owen had never met. The way they’d welcomed him with open arms had taught Owen a valuable lesson. Yes, they’d been hurt, badly even. But they still loved him. He’d done everything he could since then to make sure they knew he loved them too.
The one person he hadn’t set things right with was Natalie, and all at once he realized what the Lord wanted him to do.
Make things right with her.
“There they are,” Dr. Richards said. “Mister Keller, this is our groomsman and at-risk counselor, Owen Carr. I believe you spoke with him last week.”
Owen pushed his personal problems and refreshing revelations to the back of his mind so he could focus. It was hard, because though Owen knew what he should do, he had no idea how to accomplish making things right with his high school sweetheart without hurting her again.
And he really didn’t want to do that.
5
Owen couldn’t help his goofy grin as he went back to the horse barn to check on his boys. Trevor’s father had been personable and kind and he’d hugged Trevor to his chest like the boy was a coveted prize.
Since caring for Marie full-time these last six months, Owen had developed tender, parental feelings he didn’t understand. Watching that father and his boy had warmed Owen’s heart and pricked his eyes with tears.
He was smiling because genuine happiness pranced through him. He entered the barn and knew immediately that something was wrong. His boots froze to the ground as he scanned the area.
His boys weren’t brushing down horses and hanging saddles. No, they’d gathered at the far end of the aisle, near Blackjack’s stall. The tall, black horse stood at t
he rail, his head draped over the top.
Owen hurried toward them, a dozen thoughts scattering through his mind. “Boys?” he called. “What’s goin’ on?”
The boys parted to reveal additional people in the barn. That shock of blonde hair…. “Marie?” Owen’s heart pumped out an extra beat at the sight of his petite niece giggling as Blackjack’s lips tickled her palm.
“Uncle Owen!” The girl launched herself at him and he swung her into his arms. “Nat brought me to see the horses.”
“I can see that.”
“I like that black one. One of them boys said maybe I could ride ’im.”
Owen arrived at the group, his eyes traveling over the group. All five of his boys watched him with a slight edge of worry in their expressions. Natalie wore a look of pure panic, and her fingers gripped the rail next to Blackjack’s head like she needed the fence to stay standing.
“Which one told you that?” Owen asked.
Marie pointed at Stanley, who shrugged one shoulder, a hopeful half-smile forming on his face.
“Well, I did leave Stanley in charge.” He beamed at Marie. “So I guess you can ride ’im.” He ran one hand down Blackjack’s nose and gathered the strength and calm energy from the horse. “He needs a saddle.”
“I’ll get it, Mister Carr.” Cory bolted down the aisle.
“You boys’ll be late for your athletic activity.” He scanned the remaining group. Sometimes he had extremely athletic boys, and sometimes he didn’t. This group hadn’t particularly enjoyed their physical education. “Should I radio over to Mister Barney and tell him you’re going to ride horses today?”
Guy’s face brightened, and two other boys said, “Yes, Mister Carr,” in unison.
He almost flinched at the formality, wondered what Natalie thought of these boys being so military with him. “All right.” He set Marie on her feet. “So we need eight horses.”
“Oh, I’m not riding.” The first words Natalie had said landed like bombs in Owen’s ears. He loved the sweet timbre of her voice, always had. A corner of his heart seemed to melt on the spot, the first sign that he was in real trouble with the woman.
“Sure, you are,” he said. “You brought Marie, and she wants to ride.”
She shook her head, her long ponytail swishing back and forth. “I haven’t ridden a horse since—” She swallowed and pressed one hand to her heart. “I’m not riding.”
Disappointment cut through Owen. She’d ridden with him several times in high school. The last time, they’d taken the horses to Bear Mountain and gone horseback riding to a campsite only accessible down a narrow path. Was that the last time she’d been on a horse?
“All right,” he said as Cory returned with a saddle and began preparing Blackjack. “You can go on home, if you want. I’ll be done after this. Marie can stay with me.” The girl had gravitated back to the horse, and Owen wondered why he’d never brought her to ride before. She obviously loved horses and they could heal unseen hurts. He knew better than most.
“Maybe I’ll stay and watch.”
“Might as well ride, then.” They seemed locked in a silent battle, her hazely-gold eyes practically shooting fire. He turned away. “Boys, go get your gear. Guy, saddle Ole Red for me, will you?”
“Sure thing, Mister Carr.”
“Cory, we’re all ridin’ instead of going to sports today.”
The boy whooped. “Can I have Johnny Depp?”
“Better go claim ’im,” Owen said. “Jesus likes him too.”
Cory’s eyes narrowed before he crouched down in front of Marie. “He’s ready for ya, Marie.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
Owen swore Cory’s chest swelled to four times its normal size. He met Owen’s eye, who nodded slightly, before hurrying back to the tack room. Owen picked up Marie and set her on his shoulders. “Well, let’s ride this black one. His name’s Blackjack.” He opened the gate and moved into the stall with the horse. He set Marie in the saddle and then pulled out his radio to let Barney know his boys wouldn’t be coming that day.
With that done, he collected the reins in his hand and started toward the outdoor arena. He startled when he realized Natalie had joined him in the stall. It barely seemed big enough for the both of them, as well as the horse. Her fingers brushed against his, and he jerked back.
“Mister Carr, huh?” She kept her face toward the ground, but he heard the smirk in her voice.
He grunted and stepped toward the back of the stall. He led the horse and Marie out into the waning sunshine, and Natalie followed. She went to the side and settled on the top fence rung to watch. He couldn’t help watching her, drinking in the length of her legs in the dark jeans she wore, imagining what it would be like to slide his hands up her sides in that navy polka-dot sweater, remembering the silky quality of that hair.
He cleared his throat and focused on Marie instead. Marie was safe. Marie needed him. Marie didn’t cause three years of memories to churn and collate in his poor, overworked mind.
With every step around the arena, a new idea for how he could make things right with Natalie flitted in and then out of his brain. By the time Guy arrived with Ole Red, Owen couldn’t have been more grateful he didn’t have to use his energy to walk. Thinkin’ about Natalie took everything he had, and with her so physically close, he couldn’t force her from his mind.
Natalie perched on the fence, new feelings of awe and pride and adoration and peace rising through her. Everything Owen did, everything he said, she found attractive. Something connected the two of them, no matter how much she wished it wouldn’t. Or maybe she didn’t wish that.
The majestic way he held himself in the saddle reminded her of his athleticism. The quiet way he commanded his boys and they obeyed testified of their love for him. The softness in his eyes when it came to Marie told her that he’d meant exactly what he’d said. If the girl was happy, Owen was too. And Natalie wanted Owen to be happy.
She’d seen the sadness in his eyes, the absolute pain, the terrifying worry. She wanted to erase all of it, ease his mind, help if she could. If she were being honest with herself, she also wanted answers. Answers to why he’d left early. Answers to why he didn’t come back for her. Answers to why he’d come home when he’d seemingly done well in the country music business.
Owen watched her a lot too, almost like a magnetic force drew his gaze to her position on the fence. She pretended not to notice, but she felt his presence so strongly, she knew the moment he glanced her way.
When he called an end to the riding, she pulled out her phone and sent a text to the pizza joint in town. She could swing by there and pick up dinner on the way home since she hadn’t had time to make anything.
A sick feeling rose through her when she saw the two missed calls. The number was familiar—it was the loan company for her car. She hadn’t paid the bill in three months, and she couldn’t swallow past the lump in her throat.
“Everything okay?” Owen’s question jolted her and she almost dropped her phone.
“Fine.” She stuffed the phone in her back pocket. “I ordered pizza for dinner from Luigi’s. Want me to stop by and pick it up?”
“I can do it,” he said. “Then I can pay for it.”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Okay then. I’ll see you later.”
His hand landed on her arm and even through the sweater she wore, his touch burned. His touch ignited a fire in her stomach so hot she sucked in a breath to cool it.
“You’re coming over, right?” he asked, his navy eyes penetrating all her pretended defenses.
“I think—I think I’ll get on home.”
“Natalie, we need to talk.”
About what? she wanted to rage at him, suddenly angry that he could be so calm while touching her. Did she not affect him at all anymore? Why did she have to deal with strong desires, with old hurts, with spiraling emotions, and he didn’t? Had he really dismissed her that easily?
“I
don’t have to work again until Tuesday,” he said. “But I’d like you to come spend some time with Marie tomorrow.”
“We can talk then,” she said, adjusting her baking plans in her mind.
His eyebrows pinched together and his hand fell from her arm. “Don’t you want dinner?”
She did. Oh, she did. She wanted to eat everything in sight to soothe the seeping wounds in her heart. But she didn’t want to do that in front of Owen. “I can—” The air left her lungs as Marie flung her arms around Natalie’s waist and hugged her tight.
“Thank you, Nat. The horses were awesome, just like you said they’d be.”
She stroked the girl’s soft hair and smiled down at her. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She unwound the child’s hands and knelt in front of her. “I’ll see you later, okay? Your uncle says I can come tomorrow.” She tucked Marie’s hair behind her ear and leaned closer. “I ordered your favorite pizza: olives and cheese. Don’t let him eat it all.” She grinned as Marie looked up at Owen.
“I won’t, Nat.” She cocked her head to the side. “You aren’t gonna come eat with us?”
Natalie didn’t know what to say. She stood and brushed the dirt from her jeans, searching for the right thing to tell Marie.
“Please come,” Owen said.
Fireworks popped through Natalie at the soft insistence in his voice. She’d heard it before, when he’d invited her to the water tower, when his dog had gotten sick and he’d needed a comforting shoulder to lean on. She’d never seen Owen Carr cry. The man was too powerful, too stoic, for that. But he did possess a surprisingly soft side, and she’d adored that about him from the moment she’d started dating him.
“Mister Carr, all the horses are away for the night.”
“Thank you, Stanley.” Owen didn’t look away from Natalie. “Remind the boys I’ll be gone until Tuesday, and I want a good report from Trenton when I return.” He cut a glance at Stanley.
