Learning to Fall Page 10

  “Yeah, I know. Weird. But the last trainer left in the middle of the night, and the Hendricks were desperate to fill the instructor position. I finally caved, and told them I’d fill in until they found someone. You can imagine my surprise when Chris got the job.” She laughed.

  “I’m sure.” I jangled the keys to my car, wishing I could get to Davis.

  “Have you given some thought to me helping you out?”

  My sweatshirt suddenly seemed too warm, and I pulled at the neckline, wishing the breeze would kick up. I stood up straighter, asserting myself. “I haven’t had time to think about it yet.”

  A rider exited the arena, his horse’s shoes clip-clopping on the asphalt as he walked the horse toward the barn.

  “But I promise I’ll get back to you soon. Well, I still have a long drive.” I tried to move past her.

  “Davis?”

  I nodded and opened the driver’s side door.

  “You should be careful around him,” Vivian said as I threw my purse onto the passenger seat.

  I paused, my foot resting on the edge of the car. “What?”

  “It’s not really my place to interfere, but”—she hesitated—“we’re friends.” Vivian looked at me, as if awaiting confirmation.

  I nodded, despite doubts about her motives.

  “You might want to find out what happened back East.” She tilted her head up at the loft. “I hear he’s caused some, shall we say, problems?”

  I wanted desperately to get in the car, to not listen to her.

  “Well, I sure hope it’s only a rumor. I’ve known Chris as long as you have, maybe longer,” Vivian said, putting her hair up. “And I love him like a brother. He means a lot to me. Well, you know. We’ve all known each other a lifetime.”

  The light inside the car turned off, leaving us in darkness. I looked down at the ground, chewing on my lip.

  “Well, goodnight, Brynn. I hope this helps. I’m just looking out for you. Us girls, we have to stick together. Girl power, and all that.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to believe her and whether she really was looking out for me. What would be in it for her?

  “I’ll call you,” Vivian said. “And don’t worry. It’s probably nothing.”

  I sat in the barn office, staring at the calendar hanging on the wall. Wild mustangs ran through a river, water splashing around them, their manes and tails flowing: gray, black, and pinto-colored horses, wild as their ancestors. Saturday, October 13. Six weeks since school had started. Over three months since Dad died. I surveyed the office: the bookcases laden with horse nutrition and training books, the wall of ribbons and photos. Dad’s leather chair and his mahogany desk. I ran my fingers along the armrest of the chair, the cracks in the dark leather so much like wrinkled skin.

  I wondered how long I could keep going like this. The circles under my eyes continued to darken as my skin grew paler. My head throbbed, and the tightness in my neck wouldn’t go away even with extra-strength Advil. The crazy schedule of driving to Davis on Sunday nights, studying, going on-call in the middle of the night, driving back to the ranch on Friday afternoons, teaching and riding Friday through Sunday were all taking their toll. I knew I didn’t have much choice but to keep moving forward, but I wondered what would happen next year. And the year after. Would I be able to find a job as a vet? And how much money could I make the first year? From the statistics I’d seen, not much.

  According to Seth Armstrong, we had until February at the latest to catch up with the missed mortgage payments. Dad had purchased the lowest-cost life insurance policy possible, and twenty percent of it had already been used up by funeral expenses. The remainder had paid for two months’ worth of expenses for the farm, and one month of the past-due mortgage. We had until spring to be in the clear. I closed my eyes, not able to imagine what life would be like without the ranch, our home, to not be able to ride Jett, to not see him every weekend.

  “Hey.” Derek stood at the desk. I hadn’t even heard him come in.

  “Hey.” I straightened my shoulders, trying to paste on a smile.

  “Do you want Jett out now or later?” Derek looked younger than me now, his cheeks still golden brown, and now he sported a small goatee.

  “Later’s good.” I wanted to wait until everyone had gone home, to be alone with Jett, alone with my thoughts. I went back to staring at the computer screen, leaning forward over my keyboard to give the appearance of being busy. Derek kept standing in front of me.

  “I know you have a lot going on, and I don’t mean to bug you about this, but . . .” He drew the “but” out, and I didn’t like where this was heading. “It’s Seraphim.” Derek’s voice trailed off. “Did you want to ride her this week?” As the trainer, it was now my job to ride her, to train her to be a show jumper. To the level at which Dad had planned to show her.

  I didn’t take my eyes off the blank computer screen. “Well, I think she’s doing fine under your care, don’t you?” My eyes flitted to him, then I squinted, pretending to read something carefully on the screen. She was still in rehab and Derek was doing well training her on the flat.

  “Yeah, yeah. She’s doing great. She’s really coming along. I just thought—”

  “Hey, Derek. I really have to get to this e-mail.” I tapped a nail on the desk. “So, just keep using the Eurociser and stick with the exercise plan Uncle Ian created. Okay?” I felt stifled, desperate to open a window.

  “Yeah. Of course. No problem.” He smoothed his goatee. “And just a reminder I’m heading out early today. Bill and I have tickets to the Giants game. You know, box seats and all. Lots of booze, and great food beforehand, too. So even though it’s not really our bag, it’s a freaking Giants game. Can’t be all bad. You want to join? We have an extra ticket.” He smiled, raising his brow, trying to get me to smile back.

  “Nah, I’ve got a lot of things to catch up on, then a bunch of clinical studies to read through for a class next week. But say hi to Bill.”

  “Sure. Well, thanks for letting me go. Bill’s been such a crab, lately. Constantly grumbling about my long days, that he never sees me, yadda, yadda, yadda.” Derek ran his hand through his dark hair, scratching his scalp.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Just relationship stuff.” Derek threw me his most charming smile. “Nothing to worry about. You get some rest, B. You look like you need it.”

  After Derek left I rubbed my temples with my middle and index fingers in slow circles, putting pressure on the pain. I checked the barn schedule on my smartphone. One more lesson, and then I could ride Jett.

  I was managing to ride Jett only once a week now. If I was lucky. I tried to pretend that didn’t bother me, but in reality every time I was with him now I felt that I should be showing him, not just keeping him as a glorified pet. Dad had wanted more from Jett, and definitely more from me, but I’d never known how to tell him that I didn’t have the courage. I was afraid of failing, of losing, of disappointing him. It was much easier to pursue being a vet, something I knew I could do well. All I had to do was follow the prescribed courses, study hard, and I’d end up with a degree at the end. A lot more predictable. A lot more chance of success. Then Mom could quit one of her jobs. Maybe she’d get back to working on her novel. She could finally pursue her dreams.

  The retirement-home driver had just picked up Pam, Patty, and Peggy, who’d come to brush their horses, and I was finally alone at the barn.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t been around, buddy.” I cleaned Jett’s face thoroughly with a damp terry cloth, making sure to wipe around his eyes, up and around his nostrils and his lips. Jett nuzzled my arm, trying to stick his head under it. “I know you could do a lot more. You could still have a whole jumping career ahead of you.”

  I mounted him outside and opted to ride on the trails around the property instead of in the arena. The trees and shrubs had taken on a hint of pink, reflecting the light in the sky as the sun went down. Wisps of fog filtered through th
e trees, like a scene from Lord of the Rings. I heard a hawk’s high-pitched, long kee-eeeee-arr sound above, looked up, and saw it plunge toward something below us. The speed of a hawk’s flight always amazed me. It reminded me of the rush of going over jumps.

  I hadn’t yet taken down the small three-foot course I’d set up for Helena’s lesson. I trotted back to the arena, then cantered Jett around the ring. The combination of the setting sun in the distance, the cool breeze, and the wonder at being alone lifted me to a place I hadn’t been at in a long time. My soul seemed to connect with Jett’s, with the hawk’s, with the surrounding light. There was nothing like it in the world.

  I picked up my right lead and pushed Jett forward over the twelve-jump course. He barely made an effort as we flew over them. The course was too easy for him; we’d first jumped fences this height years ago. He didn’t even arch his back. I laughed, the sound startling me.

  Jett nickered, and I laughed again, throwing my arms around him. His breath came slower now, his heat radiating, warming me from the inside. I knew in that instant that no matter what happened, I needed to keep Jett and this land.

  I hosed him down in the outdoor wash rack. The water droplets caught the setting sun’s rays, like diamonds falling through the air. Jett’s wet coat reflected blue, gold, and red, like a drape of silk over his body. I used the sweat scraper to get most of the water off, then grazed him in the grass.

  I looked up just in time to see Corinne placing a saddle into the back of her black SUV.

  “Corinne!” I called toward her. She had the driver’s side door open, hesitating.

  “Oh, hi Brynn. Just, um, forgot Kennedy’s school bag.” She walked slowly toward me and Jett, a waft of her vibrant perfume drifting on the breeze. “That reminds me, she’s got a ton of homework this week. I was going to e-mail you. She won’t be riding in lessons.” Corinne began to tap her foot, clad in a gold ballet flat. With her white capris, she didn’t belong anywhere near a horse barn.

  “There’s that show at the end of October coming up, so it would be good if she got to practice more,” I said, letting Jett graze in the grass next to me.

  “She’s in junior high now, at the Lycée—you know how tough it is to get in there—and it’s such a challenging program. Really was a wonder she got in, what with her lackadaisical attitude. And you know how it is with kids these days, they have to prove themselves or they won’t get in to the right high school, then won’t get in to the right college, then won’t get the right job.” Corinne played with the pendant of her necklace, pulling it back and forth.

  “Of course,” I said, patting Jett.

  “Well, I need to run. Dinner to pick up and all that. But I’ll see you later.” She smoothed her hair absentmindedly, her eyes shifting away.

  “Yes, of course,” I said again. “Don’t forget the lesson on Friday and Saturday.”

  “Yes, yes. We’ll be here,” she said, turning toward her car.

  “Good night then,” I said, and placed my hand on Jett’s back, his muscles moving ever so slightly as he grazed.

  I watched her taillights recede, blurred by the tendrils of fog rolling in.

  I put Jett back in his stall and walked down the barn aisle, peeking into every stall, checking on each horse as they settled in for the night. I might as well have been tucking children in, these creatures in my care, my responsibility. I turned off the lights, then pulled the cedar doors of the barn shut to ward off the dampness and cold of the fog. I wondered about dinner, not looking forward to eating alone again. Mom had been back to work, night shifts twice a week and day shifts four days a week.

  I turned to walk up toward the house and was startled by a man’s outline leaning against the oak table. I jumped back, looking behind me, wishing I had something with me for protection.

  Then I recognized him, the moon behind him, its light filtering through the mist, casting shadows on his face.

  Chris walked toward me.

  “God, you scared me,” I said.

  Chris moved closer, a sheepish smile on his face. “I’ve missed you,” he said, holding out a bouquet of red roses. “I’m sorry for being so weird last time. The move, everything, it’s all just getting to me.”

  I pressed my nose into the silky rose petals, inhaling. “I’ve missed you too,” I said, suddenly longing for a connection. I wanted to belong. I was an empty vase, and the roses weren’t enough to fill me. I needed his touch. I wanted to be held, to have someone’s arms wrapped around me.

  Chris grabbed me, his hands on the small of my back, tugging me toward him. The flowers crumpled between us as his lips crushed mine. I entwined my fingers in his hair, pulling his head tighter to mine. His lips sought mine, his tongue warm inside my mouth. He tasted of dark chocolate and raspberries. The air filled with the scent of roses and Giorgio, and before I knew it, I asked him to come to my room.

  We hurried inside. I dropped the roses on my dresser, my jeans and shirt on the ground. Chris took his time, undressing slowly, watching me watch him, then he placed his clothes neatly on top of the bench in front of my bed. How long had I wanted this? Years, I decided. Definitely years. I stood exposed in my bra and panties, crossing my arms over my chest, suddenly shy, even as my heart and body filled with a desire to feel him, to love him.

  “You’re fucking exquisite,” he murmured.

  He pressed his body into mine. We fell on the bed, and all my hesitation disappeared, my guilt, my fear. I silenced my conscience. I needed this. As Chris moved above me, I lost my need to analyze and understand, and instead, gave in to the moment.

  I woke the next morning with a smile on my lips, the smell of sex, musky and sweet, all over me, the bed. Chris was gone. I stretched, realizing that this was the first time I had slept well in months. No nightmares, no waking up at three in the morning trying to force myself back to sleep. I ran my finger along my lips, remembering Chris’s kisses, his tongue, his body pressed into mine.

  My cell phone chimed. I tried to find my phone among my clothes and the wilting rose petals that had fallen to the ground. Text message from Chris: Be ready in 20. Taking you to brkfst.

  I did a Charlie Chaplin jump, letting out a small whoop, wrestling with my iPhone to get music on. Hurriedly, I showered and dressed.

  When I heard his car pull into the drive I checked the phone. Right on time. I twirled out the door, locking it behind me. Chris bound up the steps toward me, two at time.

  “Hello, gorgeous!” He leaned in, wrapped his arms around me, then dipped me. He gazed into my eyes, his nose brushing against mine, kissing me in a dramatic gesture. I had to laugh.

  As we walked toward the car I stopped, letting out a whistle. “Holy shit, Chris!” I walked closer to the blue Porsche convertible sitting in the driveway.

  “Killer, isn’t she?” Chris walked around the car, leaning on the hood. “You’d look perfect right here, baby.” He patted the hood.

  I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. He really did make me laugh, and I’d forgotten what that was like. “What about your Lexus? As I recall, that was a perfect ride too, wasn’t it?”

  “It got old. I’d had it for three years. It’s time for a change. Fresh start, and all that.” He moved toward the passenger door, holding it open for me. “Besides, how could I say no to this fierce machine?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Well, I guess if you can afford it . . .” Who was I to judge? Maybe I’d be buying a new sports car too if I had the means.

  “They had a great deal this weekend. Couldn’t pass it up. Let me show you what she can do.” Chris slipped into the driver’s seat, leaned over and grabbed the back of my head, kissing me again. My lips parted, his tongue searching out mine. I melted into the leather, enveloped by the bucket seat, my body awakening with desire again.

  “Maybe we should stay in?” I said. “I wouldn’t mind skipping breakfast today.”

  “Uh uh uh.” He shook his head, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “We’re going
. My treat.” He put the car into gear, and gunned it out of the driveway. “We’re going to Bodega Bay, baby!”

  I leaned my head back on the seat, letting the wind whip my hair, turning my face toward the warmth of the sun. This all felt like a dream. Why had I placed restrictions on myself, why hadn’t I allowed myself to let go? Chris was good for me. He took the stress and tension away. Exactly what I needed.

  All week I anticipated the weekend, when I could see Chris again. I hadn’t meant to fall under his spell, but he was like an addiction, and seeing him gave me a much-needed high. Even when Corinne cancelled her Saturday lesson—hers and Kennedy’s—I wasn’t too upset. I’d have more time to spend with Chris.

  Around ten that night, I lay spent on Chris’s platform bed, tangled in the silkiness of his navy sheets in the loft above the barn, amazed that I was finally in his arms. Chris lay on his side, even more handsome naked than I’d ever dared imagine. I’d been in a couple of relationships, but school and horses always came first, and I had no time for men. Besides, I always imagined Chris as the one. The candlelight flickered, casting soft shadows over the slanted attic ceiling. I reached out and played with the few blond hairs on his chest. I could see future Sunday nights becoming a reprieve before school.

  Chris leaned over, his lips brushing mine. “You’re such a kind soul. The one good thing in my life.” He said this so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.

  I laughed. “Oh, please.” I nudged at his ribs, my palm splaying against his chest. “You’ve had a life full of wonderful things, starting with an amazing family.”

  “Ah. If you only knew . . .” He pulled his hand away, the spot on my hip where it had lain suddenly cold. Poor, poor Chris. Always thinking that he had had it so rough. The poor little rich boy. He’d never had to deal with money problems, unlike ninety-nine percent of the world. The cool breeze blew in through the open skylight, bringing with it the scent of eucalyptus.

  Chris pursed his lips and exhaled. “I don’t know if my mother and I will ever see eye to eye.” He reached to the dresser and took a long pull of his beer. The candlelight reflected a dozen golden suns in the large dresser mirror.