From Where I Stand

Nathanial

“You enjoying your steak and eggs?”

“Mmm, Bea’s still got it,” my father said from the round breakfast table in the kitchen the next morning. Bea and Redman had already gone out to work, leaving my father alone in his joyful gluttony. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down with him.

“You’re a heart doctor, you must know how much cholesterol is in that meal.”

“Moderation is the key, Nate. You don’t have to cut out everything.”

When he began gnawing on the steak bone, I looked away. “We’re leaving today?”

“Actually, I told Dale we’d go out with him to do his rounds and spend one more night here and head out tomorrow.” He sat back in his chair and rubbed his belly. “I’m enjoying this.”

“I bet. You don’t have Mom measuring your portions.”

“Speaking of beautiful women, what exactly did I walk in on last night?”

It was the beginning of the father/son conversation I had always craved, but I found myself at a loss for how to explain the situation. “I was just hugging her.”

“On your lap?”

“I like her.”

“Ahh. So that’s what happened. I wondered why you weren’t hassling me to come back to the hospital.”

“Do you know anything about her?” I asked him.

“Your uncle filled me in.”

“She’s very . . . I don’t know . . . guarded. But when she’s not around other people she’s funny and smart and sweet.”

“Well, that’s all that matters, I suppose,” he said earnestly.

“I don’t think she can let herself really get to know anyone, though.”

“In my experience, moving on is part of healing. Think of it like physical therapy during rehabilitation for an injury. You start to use the muscles again while they’re healing, but you have to take it slow and build the strength back before you can make a full recovery. The heart’s a muscle. Did you forget that already?”

I laughed. “Are we talking about matters of the heart in doctor-speak?”

“Why not? This is our shared language. We could use a golfing metaphor if that works better for you.”

I laughed. “That would play more to my strengths.”

He chuckled then leaned in, grasping my arm. “All joking aside, you’re my son and I’m your dad. Every other way in which we’re related is secondary. So think about that when I tell you that you have the potential to be a better surgeon than me. But nothing would make me prouder than if you became a better husband and father.”

I jerked my head back and fought the lump growing in my throat. “You’re a great dad.”

“I put a lot of pressure on you and I regret it.”

“What has gotten into you, Dad?”

He looked up to the ceiling thoughtfully and then smiled. “Perspective. I think you may be getting a taste of it, too. Son, I want to have barbecues and go on trips and watch my grandchildren grow up.”

“You’re skipping ahead pretty fast here.”

“All I’m trying to say is that in the week after you lost the patient, I started to really question my own life. I thought about the good times, and as much as I like being a surgeon, the best memories from my life did not take place in the hospital.”

“I understand what you mean. I’m working on it, Dad.”

“Nate, remember when we used to watch football and yell at the TV? Or when your mom would go on those girl trips and we would spend the whole weekend eating junk food and watching movies?”

“I remember.”

“Aren’t those the best memories?”

“Yeah, Dad, they are.”

“Do you think of your first bypass that way? The first time you held a human heart? Did you feel joy or determination?”

“I think I get what you’re saying, but I’m pretty sure I felt joy when the surgery was a success.”

“See, I think you’re confusing your feelings. What you probably felt was relief; the joy was for the person you saved, not for yourself. Sure, it’s gratifying to know you saved a life, but it’s not nearly as gratifying as knowing you created one. Joy is family, life, all of it—the big stuff and the small stuff. Just holding the woman you love in your arms can make a hard day at work fade away.”

“Whoa, Dad. I’ve never heard you talk like this.”

“I just want you to think about it. That’s all.”

I stood up and hugged him. “Thank you. I’m going to see if Ava will join us for dinner.”

“That’s a great idea. A little physical therapy for the heart—yours and Ava’s.”

I laughed. “Thanks, Dr. Romance.”

“My pleasure.”

Once outside, I noticed right away that Dancer was not in her corral. One of the fillies was also missing. Uncle Dale was packing up the dually for our day out. We were going to check up on other animals at nearby ranches.

“Have you seen Ava?”

“She had some lessons today.”

“One of the fillies is gone. Does she teach lessons on a horse that young?”

“She mentioned something to Trisha about training the black filly. She’s on the R&W ranch today for the kids’ lessons. They have barrels there so maybe she’s going to get a workout in. I was surprised to hear that she’s getting back into it. Did you have something to do with that, Nate?”

“We talked about it.”

“I’m happy she’s doin’ it. It gives her more to focus on. Anyway, when your dad’s ready we’ll head out. Later this afternoon we’ll be going to R&W, so maybe we’ll catch Ava.” He looked up with a knowing smile.

“I’d just like to say goodbye to her before we leave tomorrow,” I said defensively.

I helped Dale carry his bags to the bed of the truck. He looked down at my boots. “Where’d those come from?”

“Ava.”

He chuckled. “Hop in the backseat, kid, and let your dad sit in front.”

I was starting to remember what it was like to be young again and I liked it.

We waited in the truck for twenty minutes until my father came wobbling down the steps from the main house. On his third step down, Dale laid on the horn and yelled out the window, “Hurry up, you old man!”

I could see my dad say, “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”

Dale turned in his seat. “He needs to lose some weight.”

“I know.”

My dad walked past the truck into the barn. “What the hell is he doin’?” Dale asked.

“No clue,” I said.

He came back out with a ton of fishing gear in his hands and his fly-fishing vest draped over his shoulder.

Dale rolled down the window. “I don’t know if we’ll have time for that, Jeff.”

“Well, let’s make time. I want to teach my boy to fly-fish and I want you to help me,” he said in his matter-of-fact tone.

“Throw it in the back, then.”

Uncle Dale looked at me in the rearview mirror, and even though I could only see his eyes, I knew he was smiling. When my father finally got in the truck, we made our way down the long dirt driveway onto the main road.

We went first to a local cattle ranch so Uncle Dale could deliver some medicines, then we made our way several miles south to a home of horse owners who had called complaining that their six-year-old quarter horse was thrashing around.

“What do you think it is, Doc?” my father said to my uncle as we drove toward the house at the top of a hill.

“Probably just colic, or some kind of impaction.”

“I think we should let Nate examine the horse. What do you think?”

“Sure, that’s a great idea.”

I kept quiet in the back but wondered why they were acting so strangely.

We pulled up behind a huge red barn where we were met by two young women. They greeted us with friendly smiles. I noticed the taller of the two had her blond hair braided perfectly over her shoulders.

Dale waved as he walked past them into the barn. “Morning, ladies.”

“Morning, Dale,” they said in unison.

“I’m Nate.” I put my hand out as I approached, but they started laughing. The shorter, dark-haired girl looked away shyly.

“We know,” the girl with braids said. “You’re the doctor.”

“Yes, I’m a doctor.”

“I’m a doctor, too,” my father interrupted wryly, but the girls didn’t seem to care.

They followed us into the barn where we found Dale in one of the stalls looking over a mare.

“Get in here, Nate, and put on one of those gloves.” He pointed to a long plastic glove hanging out of his case.

My father leaned over the stall door and watched the show. “Go on, Nate. Get the glove on, son.”

I moved into the stall, took the glove in hand, and proceeded to pull it all the way up to my shoulder. The girls watched and tried to suppress their laughter.

“What’s going on?”

“Come on, Nate. You can’t be that clueless,” my dad said.

Dale turned to him. “See how smart that fancy college made your boy?”

I looked to the girls for a clue. The short one laughed into her hands before the one in braids said, “You’re gonna have to stick your hand up the horse’s ass and pull out the poo.” She burst into laughter and then they scurried away.

“What? No. No. I can’t. Do you know how much these hands are worth?”

“Come on, Nate, give me a break. Nothing is going to happen to your hand, just be gentle with her. You don’t want to get kicked in the balls. I can’t imagine it feels very good to have a bony arm like yours up her ass.” My father was really enjoying himself.

“Why do I have to do this?”

“Because we’ve both paid our dues.”

“Dear god.” I moved toward the rear of the mare and looked up to Dale.

“Pet her real nice, right there on her behind. Let her know you come in peace.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“And a horse’s ass.”

“Stop it, Dad!”

Dale came over with a large milk jug full of clear gel. “Hand out, son. Got to lube her up first.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You two are enjoying this.”

“Immensely,” my father said.

Uncle Dale continued petting the mare’s head and trying to calm her. “Nate, I’ve done this a million times. Dolly here is constipated. She needs us to help her out. Now work your way in there and see if you can’t find the blockage.”

I hesitated, staring at Dolly’s hindquarters as she whipped her tail around.

“She seems pissed,” I said.

“She’s just really uncomfortable. You’ll see once you grow a set and get this procedure under way.”

“I don’t know if I should be doing this. This horse isn’t familiar with me.”

“What do you want to do, take her out on a date? You’re a doctor, kid. Buck up.”

With no expression on my face, I looked back toward the stall door and my father’s smug grin. “No more talking, Dad.”

I pushed my hand into poor Dolly’s backside and immediately discovered the culprit. The odor alone could have killed a small animal. Gagging, I pulled handful after handful of . . . well . . . poo, out of the horse’s enormous anal cavity. About ten minutes into the procedure, Dolly seemed to relax and feel better.

“She likes you, Nate,” my uncle said.

I’d had too many encounters with shit since I’d been on the ranch to find humor in anything my father or uncle said. “That’s it. She’s good,” I mumbled as I pulled the disgusting glove off my hand. I walked out into the main part of the barn to a sink where I attempted to wash the skin off my hands.

The girl with the braids came over. “Hey, Nate. You did really good in there.”

“Thanks. It took a great deal of skill pulling poop out of that horse’s butt.”

“How long are you in town for?” She didn’t get that I was making a joke.

I stepped back and dried my hands on my flannel shirt. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Wanna go out and have some fun tonight?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, cocked my head to the side, and looked down at her in a fatherly way. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five.” She looked seventeen at best.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. I’ll show you my driver’s license.”

“No need . . .” I paused, realizing I didn’t even know her name.

“Darla,” she offered.

“Well, Darla, I’m actually seeing someone so I’ll have to politely decline your offer.”

“Oh, is it one of your doctor friends in Los Angeles?”

“Actually . . .” For a moment I thought I would use Ava as my excuse, but I quickly realized how fast word travels in a place like this. She seemed to know a lot about me already. “I mean yes, someone from L.A.”

“Oh. For a minute I thought you were gonna say you were dating that freak, Ava.”

“What? Why in the world would you say that about her?”

Realizing I was affronted, she quickly changed her tune. “I mean, I don’t know Ava that well, but everyone around here calls her a freak.”

“Why do you think that is, Darla?” I drew out the last syllable of her name in an unnatural way as I struggled to keep my tone neutral.

She shrugged.

“I have no idea who you’re referring to when you say ‘everyone here,’ but I do know one thing. Ava isn’t a freak at all. She’s smart, beautiful, and talented. A lesser woman might find that intimidating. It was nice to meet you, Darla.”

Still speechless, she managed to squeak out a “bye” as I walked past her.

I was feeling more and more defensive of Ava as I saw how others treated her. There was little compassion for her, it seemed. It was like the hard-knock cowboy life had made everyone a bit callous when it came to death, even one like Jake’s. They didn’t seem to appreciate the impact of a tragedy like that on a man’s widow.

My father’s intention was exactly as I suspected. He sent me out to the ranch so I could see this hardened way of life and learn that some people aren’t given a magical antidote for every problem. These were matters of the heart in many ways but not in the way that I knew the heart. It was strange how being faced with death on a regular basis in the hospital and knowing that I could save a life with my own hands had given me a false sense of what it means to be alive. I was learning that being alive means knowing the threat of dying is there but facing your mortality and moving through it anyway.

I kept quiet while my father whistled a nameless tune. My uncle pulled down a small dirt road to the bank of a stream. We got out and walked down to the tree line so we could see if it was a good fishing spot. It was the widest and most still part of the river, probably five feet deep in the middle at least. Uncle Dale knew exactly where he was going and it looked like my father was familiar as well.

They gathered their gear from the back. My dad pulled on a pair of wader overalls and my uncle handed me a pole. We got to the stream and I watched my dad, completely oblivious to everyone else, walk out into the middle of the water and begin casting his fly rod. “He needs this,” my uncle said to me. “Probably more than he’d like to admit it.”

“I know. He’s under a lot of pressure at the hospital.”

“I hear you’re in a bit of a mess yourself?”

My uncle began casting, using one hand to pull the slack as the other whipped the fly line off the top of the water, letting the fly lure flick against the surface over and over.

“I think it’ll all be okay. We would have heard something by now.”

“All I’m trying to say, Nate, is that you may need a little more of this in your life, too.”

“I know. I’ve been looking at other hospitals. I’m thinking about getting out of L.A.” I wasn’t ready to tell my father but I knew Dale would understand.

“It’s why I’m here, kid. There are horses everywhere and I lived in the city long enough before. It doesn’t make you any smarter living in the city. If anything, you start to lose sight of the important things when the big buildings are always crowding your view. Trisha and I decided a long time ago that we wanted to live in a place where we could see the sky stretch from one horizon to the other. It’s important to know how small you are.”

“I can’t say I don’t agree with you, but why is Ava still on the ranch? It doesn’t seem like the right place for a young, single girl.”

“She works there. That’s her job, plus she has room and board. And she’s not a single girl, she’s a widow.” There was a rough edge to his voice.

“Maybe she feels like she has nowhere else to go.”

“She had options. Her brother’s some high-powered attorney in New York City. He came out after Jake . . . you know . . .”

“Killed himself.”

“Yeah. Her brother came out to take her back to New York with him and she fought to stay. She didn’t want to leave. Redman said he’d pay for her to go to Spain to see her mom and she refused. She loves the horses, and that’s pretty much all she’s got, besides us.”

“That girl back at the other ranch called Ava a freak. Why?”

He let out a big breath. “Well, Ava keeps to herself and mostly talks to the horses. Not too friendly with people.”

“You all talk to the horses.”

“True.” He laughed and stopped quickly. “She was in Bozeman one night for the rodeo and got drunk at the bar and made a bit of a scene.”

I squinted, shaking my head. “What? No. What do you mean?” That didn’t sound like Ava.

“There was an incident with a guy, you know, a roper who had come into town. There’s a festival and rodeo down in Bozeman every year, and she had met him there and then got a little fixated on him. He looked just like Jake and rode his horse the same way, with a bit of arrogance and showmanship.”

“So what, she slept with him?” Saying the words made my stomach ache, but Ava was a grown woman who had been through a lot. There was little Dale could say that would taint my view of her.

“No, he was married and kept his distance, but she sure as hell tried. She ended up drunk at Pete’s, beggin’ him and talking all kinds of nonsense.”

“She was grieving. No one had any sympathy for her?”

“We all do, Nate. We knew Jake before the accident. We knew what a good man he was. Ava and Jake were so in love and so happy. He was playful with her, he doted on her, but a lot of his confidence was based on being a certain kind of man. After the accident, I think Jake felt like less of a man, so he got really mean with her. He would beat her sometimes and was verbally awful to her. Everyone saw this and couldn’t understand why Ava stuck around. She would go into town with split lips and both eyes swollen.”

I winced. “Jesus.” I had no idea it had gotten that bad, and I was surprised that Ava would have put up with it. It was becoming more and more clear to me that she had given Jake everything, even staying loyal to him after he had become a monster. The heartbreak she must have felt after what she had already endured would be overwhelming for anyone. I knew it would take a lot to open her up again but I also knew I wanted to try. I hoped that I wasn’t kidding myself or trying to fill some void of my own. “So what happened, Dale?”

“I guess when she followed that guy to the bar she was really far gone. She kept calling him Jake. She told him he could hit her if he would hold her after.”

I sucked a breath of air in through my teeth. The last part gutted me. I felt terrible for her.

Dale continued. “The bartender called Red and he had to get her at two in the morning.”

“My god. Does she need help?” I couldn’t understand why they never urged her to see a therapist.

“We’re all giving her love, and she has come a long way. That might be hard to believe. Redman keeps trying to get her to go to church. I know that’s not your thing, Nate, but I think it would help her.”

“Believing that her dead husband will spend an eternity in hell after taking his own life might be a hard pill for her to swallow. Especially since he got injured trying to save her. I’m talking about professional help.”

“There’s no magic cure for this, Nate.”

“I know, but seeing someone, talking to someone in a safe place, couldn’t hurt her either.” I was thoroughly determined to convince him.

“You have a point,” he said. “And it might also give her a way to look outside of herself.” He looked up to the sky thoughtfully before continuing. “I think we’re all hoping something will bring her out of the fog. You seem to be helping, but now you have to go back.”

“I’ll be gone for a few days. I’ll have another week before my leave is up, if I even have a job still. Who knows, I might be applying as your vet assistant soon.”

“Well, I would love to have you,” he said instantly. “We could always use an extra long arm like yours around here.” Dale’s mouth broke into a teasing grin.

“Ha ha.”

My father came walking toward us with a trout flopping from his line. “Your dear old Dad’s still got it.”

My uncle shook his head. “In the middle of the day. I can’t believe it. You’re the luckiest son of a bitch.”

“Well, throw it back. We have a few hours before we get back to the ranch and there’s nowhere to put that thing until then.”

I watched as my father pried the lure from the inside of the fish’s mouth. Once it was out, he put the small fish in the shallow water and held it until it glided out of his hand and into the depths. He held up the lure. “Here son, the hopper. It’s my old faithful. You keep that one for yourself. Use it when you come back. It works every time.” He knew I couldn’t stay away.

I took it from his hands and held it up. “Thanks, Dad.” Being there with my dad was so unlike any experience I’d had with him in recent years. We stopped in a little pub for lunch on our way to R&W ranch. Dale asked my father about work, which sent him into a twenty-minute description of a heart transplant he’d assisted on the week before. I stared up at the neon beer signs above the bar and tuned my father out while he talked. It was the first time I’d ever done that; usually I hung on his every word.

“Am I boring you, Nate?” He smiled but there was a serious edge to his voice.

“Not at all. I was just thinking about how nice it was to not talk about surgery for a while,” I said, a little edgy myself.

Dale crossed his arms and looked away. Without words, he basically said, You two work this out.

“You’re right, and that’s exactly why I thought it would be a good idea for you to come out here. Just tell me though, how’s your confidence? How do you feel about getting back to work?” His tone held true concern and I backed down.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much.”

“That’s a good sign.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I think so. Now, let’s get this kid an order of Rocky Mountain oysters and call it a day. Whaddya say, Dale?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fuck you guys, I’m not falling for that one.”

We all laughed and then my father slapped me on the back. “Glad to see you’re catching on.”

The sun was starting its descent as we made our way to R&W ranch. We drove up a dirt road on one side of the property, then Dale hopped out to drop off medications to someone near the barn. When he returned, we started heading down the opposite way we had come up.

“This road heads back to the ranch. Someone saw Ava’s truck and trailer down here by the barrels.”

When the land flattened, I could see a barrel track and corral in the distance. As we got closer, the sun dropped behind the mountains. The light still flooding the sky turned cool and gray. Ava’s truck was parked next to the corral, but it wasn’t until we passed that we encountered a horrifying sight I would never forget.

Ava waved her arms at us to stop but we looked past her to the arena. We were speechless as we watched Dancer hop around frantically with a very visibly broken leg. Her back left leg below the knee joint was hanging off loosely and flopping around as she thrashed against the metal corral. We stopped and jumped out of the truck.

The sound of Dancer’s bridle clinking against the bars drowned out all other sounds. The other horse, the black filly, was saddled and tied to a post nearby. She vocalized and swished her tail, clearly distressed by the scene playing out in front of us. Dale approached Ava first. He yelled something at her but she pushed him and ran toward the truck, her face red from exhaustion. I yelled to her but she didn’t stop.

Dale came running after her. “Ava, don’t do that, please.”

She didn’t respond to Dale or acknowledge my father or me. She walked past us, to the back passenger door of Dale’s truck, pulled the seat forward, and removed a .22-caliber rifle. She loaded it and moved hurriedly toward the corral. We all followed as Dale tried desperately to make her stop.

“Ava, you may not hit the right spot. We can go back to the ranch, I’ll get the medicine and we can euthanize her the humane way.”

Holding the rifle to the ground, she turned and screamed, “There is nothing humane about that, Dale. It’ll take you at least an hour to get back here.”

“We might not need to put her down.”

“Look at her!” Her voice was so desperate and she was crying hysterically. “Look. At. HER!”

It was hard to look at Dancer. I couldn’t imagine how Ava was feeling.

“At least let me take the shot.”

She sniffled, wiped her face with the back of her hand, stood up straight, composing herself, and said, “No. I have to do it.”

She walked stoically into the corral and stood in front of Dancer, who was now on her belly, still thrashing against the aluminum posts. Ava lifted the weapon high and aimed right at the spot between Dancer’s ears. “Be still,” she said calmly. The horse immediately stopped moving. As unintelligent as I know horses are, there was a moment in Dancer’s stillness when I thought she knew Ava was trying to take her pain away. “Goodbye.”

She fired the gun.

The ringing of the shot echoed against the distant mountains, leaving a buzzing hum in my ears. Dancer’s body fell lifeless to the side. The kick from the rifle sent Ava stumbling back against a small shed in the corral behind her. She let loose one long sob before I went running toward her.

“Ava?” I said, but she didn’t turn around. She stood over Dancer’s body for several moments then leaned the rifle against the corral and slowly walked away. The three of us watched and waited to see what she would do.

Dale called to her, “Ava, come here, sweetheart. We’re so sorry.” She ignored him as she untied the filly from the post. Dale squared his shoulders and started walking quickly after her. We followed. “What are you gonna do, sweetie? Don’t get on that horse, please, Avelina.”

“I’m riding back,” she said as she hopped up into the saddle.

“It’s not a good idea. It’s almost dark and it’s far and that horse is un-broke.”

“She’s broke. She’s wearing a saddle with a rider in it, isn’t she?” Right at that moment the filly threw her head back. Ava yanked on the reins with both hands, reprimanding her.

“Ava, please don’t,” I said to her. “You’re not thinking straight.”

My dad even tried to plead with her. “It’s not safe, honey. Why don’t you get down? Nate can drive you back.”

I held my hand out to her but she looked away and pulled the reins, turning the horse in a circle. She gave the filly a swift kick and they were off, a black blur in the fading light.

“Jesus Christ,” Dale said. “She’s gonna get herself killed.”

“I think that’s what she wants.” My father’s words stung my ears.

“Are we gonna go after her?” I asked, feeling panic rise.

“She’ll stay off the road. The best we can do is get things taken care of with Dancer and then get back to the ranch.”

“God, poor Ava. She was just starting to come around,” I said. “Are we going to bury the horse?”

“No, we’ll call a company to come out here and remove her,” Dale said.

“I think we should bury her on the ranch so Ava will have a place to visit her.”

My father and Dale looked at each other like they were contemplating it. While I waited for an answer, I felt drop after drop of rain hit my skin until it started drizzling steadily. All the while I worried about Ava.

“Okay,” Dale said, finally. “I’ll have to run up and borrow Henry’s tractor.”

“I’ll stay here with Dancer,” I said firmly.

They drove up the hill and returned shortly with a big tractor. We managed to get the horse into the front loader. “You’re gonna drive this thing back to the ranch, Nate, since this was your idea.”

“Okay,” I said with a curt nod. I had no idea what I was agreeing to. Dale took off ahead of us in Ava’s truck while my father followed me in Dale’s truck. The tractor would only go about twenty-five miles per hour. I essentially drove that thing with no headlights except for the light from my uncle’s truck behind me, in the freezing cold, pouring rain for fifteen miles down a country road with a dead horse in the front loader.

My uncle met us at the bottom of the driveway leading up to the ranch. “She’s okay,” he yelled over the loudness of the engine.

“Where is she?” I asked.

“She’s in her cabin. You can go up there after we get this horse in the ground. Get down, Nate, I need to dig the hole.”

I removed Dancer’s bridle and saddle while Dale used the backhoe to dig a twenty-foot grave. When he finished, he turned the tractor around and unceremoniously dropped the horse into the hole. Something painful struck me suddenly. I thought about Lizzy and her young body in the darkness below, the promise of a beautiful life ahead of her gone. Then I did something I’d never done in my life: I prayed. I’m not sure who I was praying to but that’s what I was doing as I watched the tractor dump bucket after bucket of mud on top of Dancer. I prayed that there was something more for Lizzy and Jake and the damn horse we were burying. But most of all I prayed there was something more for Ava while she was here on earth.

After my uncle was finished, I drove Ava’s truck up to the barn. Bea was waiting on the porch with towels.

“Look at you boys. What kind of foolishness are you three up to, burying a horse in this rain?”

I took the towel and began drying off. “Have you checked on Ava?”

“She’s okay. I took her some dinner. Get in here and get warm first.”

My uncle went off to his cabin while my father and I followed Bea inside of the main house. “Jeffrey, you go ahead and use the guest shower. Nate can use the shower in our bathroom.”

I followed her into the master bedroom at the back of the house and into the large bathroom. She reached behind the curtain and started the water for me. “I can do this, Bea.”

“You’re shaking like a sober drunk.” She began to yank on my jacket. “Let me help you out of these clothes. Don’t worry, I’m not lookin’.”

She helped get my shirt over my head then turned away, sat on the closed toilet, and sighed. I had no idea what she was doing. I stripped out of my jeans and quickly got behind the curtain into the shower.

“Feelin’ better, Nathanial?”

“Yes, I’m good, Bea,” I said, wondering when she was going to leave.

“Good. You gonna go see Ava after you’re cleaned up?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because I’m tired, kid.”

“Yeah? Of what?” I asked, wondering where she was going with this.

“I’m tired of seeing her in pain. I don’t want to be insensitive, but I’ve been wondering when she’s gonna get over Jake. And now this. She loved that horse so much. Had her since she was a kid.”

I turned the water off, reached for a towel, and stepped out. “I know, Bea. It was like they were connected. I don’t know what I’m going to say to her.”

She looked up at me and then down to where the towel was wrapped around my waist.

“Maybe try something other than words.”

My eyes shot open. “Bea! What are you saying?”

Laughing, she said, “It’s lookin’ like the ranch is doing you some good.” I had put on a couple of pounds since I had been there. They had me working every minute of the day, so most of it was muscle. I chuckled as I made my way past her and down the hallway. I went to my room and dressed in jeans, Chucks, and a pullover sweater. By the time I made it to Ava’s cabin the rain had stopped and she was asleep on the porch swing, wrapped in a blanket, like I had found her before. I watched her take steady breaths. I was uncertain if I should wake her or just carry her inside, but I knew I couldn’t leave her out there. She looked angelic in the low light. The skin on her face was perfectly smooth and she looked peaceful, even though I knew that wasn’t possible.

CHAPTER 11

Date: 2014-12-29; view: 838