Dance from the Heart (Dancing with Horses Book 3)

by Toni Mari

  I kept an eye out for white three-rail fencing but was surprised when Michelle turned into an unmarked dirt driveway. Electric fencing hung from posts that were all askew surrounding a weedy field.

  “This is the place?” Michelle’s little car bounced so high as we rolled over the deep ruts that I put a hand over my head to protect it from smashing against the ceiling.

  The barn was two stories high. The double doors to the hay loft were flung wide open and one hung sideways from a single hinge. The rickety, slatted sliding doors opened on a dirt aisle. Shaggy horses separated by more flimsy white tape fencing trotted to their gates at our approach.

  I flipped the seat belt over my shoulder and slowly got out of the car.

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Donna. You’ll like her, she’s great.”

  We entered the dark barn and I was surprised to see sturdy new lumber lining the stalls on both sides of the dilapidated building. Only a couple of heads hung over the half doors.

  “Up here,” a voice called from a narrow stairwell next to an alcove that held metal cans with feed scoops resting on top of their lids. A dusty shelf was tucked in the corner jam-packed with plastic supplement containers.

  I followed Michelle up the stairs and stopped dead at the top. A forty-something woman with bristly black hair wielded a broom, attacking the thick layer of dirt like it was fighting back.

  “I was giving it a quick sweep. I haven’t had anybody up here for a few years. The plumbing works—I just checked—and I switched on the little water heater in the closet next to the bathroom. You’ll have to check it in an hour to see if the water is hot.”

  A section of the hayloft had been walled off to make this room. A worn area rug, a musty couch, and an ancient dresser filled the space. In the farthest corner, a skinny bed with a horse blanket, buckles and all, spread over it was shoved against the wall.

  Donna saw my face and grimaced. “I know. It’s not great, but I’ll help you set it up. It’ll look cute once it’s clean.” She wiped her hand on her pants and held it out to me. “I’m Donna, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

  They both helped me carry my bags up the stairs and we made a pile in the other corner. We followed Donna back down the stairs and she gave us a tour, introducing us to the horses and reminding Michelle where each one came from. Michelle made all the appropriate noises about how improved they looked, rubbing noses and patting necks.

  I lagged behind them, inspecting door handles and looking in the stalls. They were a nice size and bedded with clean shavings.

  Only two stalls were occupied. I stopped in front of one door, clucking at the shaggy brown horse inside. He looked at me suspiciously but didn’t stop chewing the delicious-looking hay at his feet. He was thin and had sores on the points of his hips.

  I moved to look in the next stall. A taller, thin, Thoroughbred type stepped right over and stuck his head out. “Hi there.” I patted his long, thin neck. He perked his ears, lifting his head, begging for a harder scratch. He didn’t seem to notice that his skin stretched over protruding bones, all angles and no smooth muscle. He circled the stall and stopped in front of his hay, wide-eyed with energy.

  I turned as Michelle put a hand on my shoulder. “I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Get some rest.”

  When her tail lights disappeared down the road, I gingerly climbed the stairs to my new room. I spread a sweatshirt over the grimy-looking pillow and lay down in my clothes. My hands were shaking as I tried to key in Cory’s number, redialing four times before getting it right.

  “Hey.”

  I swallowed my words at his cool greeting. My actions were the complete opposite of his advice, would he help me if I asked? I wasn’t lying anymore, but there was more to our disagreement than that. There was only one way to find out and I got straight to the point. “Do you think you could help me trailer Windsong to a different barn about a half hour away?”

  “Move him? Why?” Suspicious.

  Leaving out the details about the condition of this farm, I briefly summarized my plan.

  After a painful moment of silence, Cory asked quietly, “Who are you? You left your beautiful house, you’re not going back to school, and you’re moving your horse? I don’t know what’s going through your head these days.”

  With stubborn conviction, I barked into the speaker, “I’m building a future. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Sounds like you’re throwing it away to me.”

  “You used to believe in me. Is that only when I was the privileged daughter of parents with money? Now that I want to be my own person, make it on my own, you don’t want anything to do with me?”

  “Quitting college and fighting with your family, your dad, sounds like the actions of a spoiled brat. If I had a dad and he wanted to send me to college, I wouldn’t just walk out of his house and throw it all away.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing, and if you don’t get it, I guess we have nothing to talk about.” I smashed the end button, tossing the phone on the bed.

  Leaping up and pacing, I cursed him. I took two deep breaths, battling the nausea that rose up my throat. Cory was always the one I could turn to, he was my rock. I made a fist and smacked my knuckles against my palm. What was his problem? Couldn’t he understand what I was trying to accomplish here? I tripped over the curled corner of the threadbare carpet.

  Looking around at the naked unpainted walls, the dented and rusty lamp, and the dead flies stuck to the light bulb, I sank back down on the bed. The springs groaned noisily and I had to shift around to find the least lumpy spot. I pressed my fingers over my eyelids to stop the stinging. I wouldn’t cry. I had made a good decision. I did know what I was doing. I thought.

  I plugged the charger in and connected the phone to it. I held onto it, hoping Cory would call back. With thoughts ping-ponging around in my head, I fell asleep in my clothes on top of the horse blanket, using my coat and bathrobe as covers. Despite leaving the light on in the windowless room, I slept deeply. I awoke to the sounds of whinnying horses and banging buckets. My phone was conveniently still in my hand and I flicked it on to see if I had missed a call. Nothing but the date and time.

  I rolled over, stood and slipped my feet right into my barn boots. A whiff of my own breath had me digging out my toothbrush.

  Crystal clear water flowed out of the ancient chrome spigot. If the noise the pipes made was any indication, a giant creature was making its way up from the depths of the well. I rinsed and spit quickly, shutting off the water before the monster appeared.

  I put on my coat and gloves. Jogging down the stairs, I held the banister in case the rickety boards snapped under my weight and nearly landed on Donna.

  A bucket on the top of the stack she was carrying teetered, and I reached to steady it, elbowing her in the side. She flinched, becoming further unbalanced, and when I tried to save her, I stomped on her foot with my thick-soled boots. Finally, I just wrapped my arms around her waist until she stopped wobbling.

  I said “I’m sorry” just as she said “Good morning.” And we almost started the whole routine over again when I tried to lift half the buckets out of her hands.

  “Whoa! Take a step back, girl. I’m not used to so much help.”

  I stepped back with my hands up, mumbling another apology.

  Donna set the stack of buckets down, tugged two free, and handed them to me. “The blue one goes to the little brown horse in the barn, and the green one goes to Marty, the tall Thoroughbred next to him.”

  Looking in the buckets, I carried them to the stalls. A mixture of textured sweet feed and green pellets half filled each bucket. Three different powders were sprinkled on top. Both horses could have given Windsong a lesson in manners as they waited patiently for me to dump the feed in their bins.

  Donna came back in the barn as I jiggled the stall door to make sure the flimsy latch caught.

  “Why are these two the only ones in the barn?”

  “If the
weather is nice, I leave all the horses outside. Saves me cleaning the stalls and saves on shavings. These two have been here only a few days. I want to be able to feed them a lot and have them eat it in peace. It’s been a long time since they didn’t have to fight for their food.” She took the empty buckets from my hands and stacked them together next to the metal feed cans under the stairs.

  “They waited so politely for me to feed them, I would never have guessed that they were starved recently.”

  “What, Marty’s bones sticking out all over the place didn’t give you a clue?”

  “Well, yeah. Can you show me where my horse will go?” I asked with trepidation. I wasn’t sure whether Windsong had ever stayed in anything but a show barn. I didn’t know how he would make out in these open stalls and with electric fences. It had me worried.

  Donna waved an arm. “He can have any stall you want, and you can put your tack here. She pointed to a small area under the stairs that wasn’t taken up by feed cans. I followed her out the back door and caught my breath.

  Mist floated lazily over gently rolling hills. A dirt lane lined on both sides with wooden posts that held up white electric tape as wide as my leather belt disappeared into the fog. The pastures stretched far back for acres.

  “I usually put new horses here, especially if I think they might be nervous.” On the right, two smaller pens were framed out, a four-foot-wide space separating them. “Does your guy go out alone or with company?”

  “Windsong likes company, but I have to be careful. He’s a noodge and a wuss.”

  Donna cocked her head. “How do you mean?”

  I tried to explain his neediness but also his vulnerability and how I couldn’t afford for him to get injured.

  “We’ll put him in one side and we’ll put those two next to him. After they all get to know each other, we’ll see who gets along. What day do you think you’ll be bringing him here?”

  “Today, if I can make arrangements. I know you said you try to save on shavings, but can I keep him in at night? I have to be careful, like I said.”

  She grinned. “You sure can, because now I have you to help with the chores. Let me show you the routine.”

  She invited me into her house, and over oatmeal and coffee, we discussed how things were going to be done. All eight of the horses came from EMA rescues and the organization gave her money to take care of them. Michelle had arranged for EMA to pay for Windsong, too. I would actually be working off my own room and board. Donna lived alone but worked at the insurance brokerage in town. I would take over most of the barn chores but eat my meals with her.

  After breakfast, I called Kate to ask her if she could trailer Windsong over. She said she had a full schedule of lessons, Sunday being her busiest day, but that Cory could borrow her trailer any time. So, I had to explain about my fight with Cory.

  “Do you want me to talk to him?” Kate asked sympathetically.

  “No, he’s been on my dad’s side since before Finals. I’ll call him in a few days.”

  “Brandon has a trailer. Why don’t you ask him? I can help him load Windsong and your tack. I bet he’ll do it for a couple dollars.”

  He probably would, but what would Cory think? He was already jealous of Brandon. And would Brandon think I was trying to start something with him? I couldn’t worry about that right now; I had to get Windsong moved here since I had no car to go there. “Okay. That’s a good idea.”

  I made the call to Brandon. He was happy to help, could leave immediately, and told me I would be seeing my horse in about an hour.

  Donna came back in the room carrying a trash bag and a box. When I told her my arrangements, she said, “Great, you can go get a stall ready for him. But, first, I have sheets and a comforter for you and some cleaning supplies.”

  While I was waiting for Brandon to come, I used some of the stuff Donna gave me. I scrubbed the dresser inside and out. Erica’s poster was on top of my clothes in the suitcase. I lifted it out, smoothing the wrinkles with my fingers, and tacked it up over the dresser—where people usually placed a mirror. She certainly brightened the room. As I loaded my clothes in the drawers, I kept stealing glances at her.

  I grimaced when I placed shampoo in the bathroom. I told myself that if I could be the inspiration Erica had been, all of this would have been worth it.

  I heard Brandon’s noisy old diesel clanking down the driveway and thundered down the stairs to meet him. He stuck his arm out the window and waved his beat-up black Stetson, with a toothy grin and a wink for me as the truck rolled to a stop.

  His tall, broad-shouldered frame unfolded from behind the wheel. “Hey, girl. I got something for you.” He stepped back and opened the side trailer door with a flourish.

  Before I could say a word in warning, Windsong poked his head out and whinnied desperately. And then he shook the little two-horse trailer by pawing as hard as he could.

  At Brandon’s look of alarm, I rushed forward. “I better get him off before he puts a dent in your trailer. Where’s the lead?”

  I unclipped the trailer tie and dropped the chest bar as Brandon opened the back. “Ready?” he called.

  “Just get out of the way. He’s used to coming off the slant load forward. I don’t know how this is going to go.”

  Brandon nodded and unhooked the butt bar. Windsong didn’t move. I clucked, bumping his nose with a tug on his halter. His feet were planted. Poking his chest with one finger, I commanded, “Back. Go back.”

  Windsong tipped his head to look behind him. With one back foot he took a tiny step. When it landed solidly on the trailer floor, he took a more confident one. The next one landed lower than he expected on the ramp and he panicked. Flying backward, with me trailing, he shuffled off, rearing when all four feet hit the dirt.

  Donna stood on the porch with her jaw hanging open.

  “He’s a bit of a hot horse,” I explained.

  “Remember when you first got him? He did the same thing and we were all watching. We thought he was crazy.” I couldn’t believe Brandon remembered that.

  I put Windsong in the stall across from the skinny horses. He paced two circles, stuck his nose through the bars to sniff the air, and took a bite of hay. Then he tried to whinny with his mouth full.

  Brandon helped me carry my trunk and other things in and stow them under the stairs. I opened my case and pulled out the stethoscope. Windsong was still carrying on, and I wanted to make sure all was well.

  “You’re going in there with him like that?” Donna asked from a good three feet away.

  “It’s all show. He’s harmless,” I reassured her. As soon as I opened the door, Windsong was on me, nosing my pockets. I gave him a treat and then had to push him away so I could bend down and get his heart rate. Looking at my phone’s stopwatch feature, I breathed a sigh of relief. It was within normal range. I stepped out of the stall.

  Maybe he would make friends with Marty, who was watching alertly. Windsong wasn’t used to being able to put his head over the door. The stall he had lived in had sliding doors with no openings. He lunged forward, misjudging his step and slamming his chest into the wood as he reached toward me to nip my coat.

  Donna backpedaled two feet farther from Windsong’s snapping jaws. “You can take care of that one, I’m not touching him.”

  I had forgotten how wild Windsong’s behavior might seem to those unacquainted. I rubbed his elegant ebony head fondly. “He’s just a big baby. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “He is beautiful.” Donna moved closer, holding up her hand. Windsong touched it with his clean-shaven muzzle, wiggling his lip gently on her palm. With her other hand, she stroked his neck.

  As we all walked down the aisle, Windsong nickered, bumping his chest against the door again. “Just keep walking. He’s begging. He’ll behave when he doesn’t see us anymore.” I grabbed their arms and propelled them forward.

  Standing in front of Windsong’s stall later that night, I tried to call Cory. When he didn�
�t pick up, I sighed.

  I shook the stall door, testing to see whether Windsong could push or kick it open. It felt pretty solid and he seemed to be comfortably eating his hay. He was staying in tomorrow though, when I went to see my adviser. I was going to watch him closely when I released him for the first time into that electric fencing.

  I looked at my phone screen. I guess Cory wasn’t calling me back. I guess I was getting the silent treatment again. Well, I needed a ride to school, and if he wasn’t going to help me, I would ask someone else. Donna had to work, and Michelle had already done so much for me I was reluctant to ask her to drive me around, too.

  Sighing, I keyed in Brandon’s number.

  Chapter 22

  I said good morning as I got in the truck and arranged my purse and laptop on the seat between us. Pressing down the lock button, I sat smashed up against the door with my arms crossed and my eyes riveted on the road. I kept the conversation on college and the weather. It should have been Cory taking me instead of Brandon, and I kept chattering to cover my discomfort.

  After a few minutes of answering my inane questions, Brandon shook his head. “Jane. You’re coiled up tighter than my rope before I toss it over a calf’s neck. Relax, I’m happy to help you out.”

  “And I really appreciate it, but I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

  He put his hand on my knee and I flinched. “I know it would take a whole lot of sweet talking to charm you into dating me, but I think I got it in me to try.” He sat back, chuckling at my alarm. “At least that’s what I told Cory.”

  “What?”

  “I told him I was going to do my best to win you away from his sorry butt. And if he had any brains, he would get over himself and make up with you.”

  I sat quietly, drawing circles on my pant leg. “He thinks I’m out of my mind. Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”