Dressed in her least stylish riding pants, Jane eagerly awaited Friday when Mak would finish his classes and they’d ride together to his ranch.
“Let’s stop in town and pick up something to eat,” he said after the school let out for lunch. At the colorful farmer’s market, Jane again felt much like a minority, seeing the food and wares of Japanese, Portuguese, Polynesian, Korean, and Chinese people. She and Mak each settled for a cinnamon-raisin-macadamia-nut shortbread cookie, and divided one for each horse. She learned of fruits that were foreign to her—lychee, lilikoi, star fruit, guava.
“I know banana,” she teased.
“Probably not this kind,” he said. “There are about fourteen varieties in Hawaii.”
After munching on the delicious cookies, they mounted the horses and headed for a trot-walk to the ranch. Mak confided, “I did tell Leia that her fear stems from her knowing her mother was thrown from a horse. But I didn’t feel the time was right for going into further detail.”
Jane felt that was progress. When she and Mak rode up, she wasn’t surprised to see Rose and Leia waiting outside the carriage house. As she followed Mak into the corral where they left Big Brown and Cinnamon, he murmured, “I’ve never before seen my daughter in pants.” He took a deep breath. “Nor my mother looking quite so triumphant.”
“Where did you get that outfit?” Mak said, walking up to them.
“Aloha, Jane,” Rose said with a big smile before answering Mak, while Leia pulled the sides of her pants like a girl curtsying in a skirt. “Chico borrowed the pants from one of the paniolos’ sons who’s about Leia’s size.”
Mak was seeing his little lady in old-looking shoes and the clothes of the son of a cowboy who worked for him. Jane however, could visualize Leia in a real riding outfit and boots.
Rose leaned toward Jane and spoke softly. “The boy has worn these pants many times for the same purpose.” Then she addressed them all. “I’ll leave this to you. Later, I’ll serve some refreshments.”
Jane looked at her and mumbled, “No apples,” and they both laughed.
Rose walked toward the house, still chuckling.
Jane knew the next few minutes were critical. With one knee bent and a booted foot braced against the wall, Mak leaned back with his arms folded while Jane explained the process to Leia.
Leia crinkled her nose. “But, Daddy, you don’t like for me to get dirty.”
He scoffed. “Has that ever stopped you?”
Jane knew this could end the session before it even started. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t back down on that point. Of course, stable boys could clean the stalls. But this was an important part of discipline and the care of an animal. Long before now, Leia should have been accustomed to all parts of animal behavior. Jane had certainly learned the hard way about cow patties. She continued holding onto the rake.
Mak could change his mind in a moment, too. His next words indicated that. “No, you don’t have to, Leia. Miss Jane said that many young girls in Texas have drivers who take them where they need to go. Or they can wait until their dad or family member feels like taking them into town or on excursions.”
Her lip poked out. “I want to do it myself.”
He said, “There’s only one way.”
Her eyes challenged her dad and Jane, but neither spoke. Her lips tightened, but she came over to Jane and took the pitchfork. Jane reached for another one.
Leia gasped. “You’re going to do it, too?”
“Certainly. It’s just part of being in your horse’s life.”
“Okay,” she said, as if beginning to play a game. “Let’s see who picks the most apples.”
“Okay,” Jane said back. “Just don’t toss any the wrong way.”
Mak watched, astounded. His little girl was helping clean out Big Brown’s stall. Early that morning, he had told the bewildered stable boy to leave some of the apples in the stall.
Even so, he never would have thought such a thing could happen, or that it should. But Leia, to his surprise, stuck with the job. She and Jane would make sounds like “P-uewee” and turn their heads, then laugh.
How good to hear a woman laugh with his child. Of course, his mother often did, but he was used to that. This was different. Reminded him again of Maylea and what he and Leia both missed.
Strange, he thought more highly of Jane picking apples than when she stood around looking like a beautiful lady. She wasn’t above getting downright smelly and messy. She was teaching his daughter, a young girl of privilege, what it meant to work. And his daughter seemed happier with that than when his mother was teaching her to crochet.
Well, Miss Jane could often look like a dainty, well-bred creature, but she sure knew how to clean out a stall, like a man. . .or rather, like a stable boy.
When they finished, Jane walked over to him. “You don’t have any airs about you, Miss Jane,” he said and watched her smile disappear and a warning look come into her eyes when he added, “except what might linger after a stall cleaning.”
“Well, for your information, I love the smell of horses and stables.”
Leia’s smile looked more like a grimace, but she didn’t dispute that.
“Now,” Jane said. “For the next step.”
He planted both feet on the floor. “A horse?”
“Exactly.”
His little girl, or rather
stable girl
, put her hands together like she might applaud.
“Miss Jane,” he said, “Do you think Cinnamon would do?”
“You mean that nice, sweet, gentle, trot-walking horse?”
“Exactly.”
Jane nodded. “Bring her in.”
Mak listened to what Jane was saying to Leia, who had wanted to ride for a long time. Now in the presence of such a big horse, she seemed shy, and he knew that moment of imbedded fear would surface.
“He’s your pet, Leia,” Jane said, “but not just a pet. He’s also your transportation, and you must always be in control of him. You must learn to train him to do what you want. Don’t let him do whatever he wants.”
Leia was nodding. “That sounds like what Daddy and Grandmother tell me. They make me do what they want. Dry the dishes. Clean my room. Wash my hands.” She lifted her hands. “On and on.”
“That’s so you will grow up to be a properly trained, obedient, fine young lady.”
Leia looked at the apple pail in the corner. “Ladies pick that kind of apples?”
“Oh, yes. I’m a lady and I just did it.”
“Does Miss Tilda?”
“She has when she took care of her own horses. She would again if she needed to. Young ladies do many things. Some sit in drawing rooms and knit or crochet.”
Seeing Leia’s nose begin to crinkle, Mak thought she wasn’t too fond of that.
“Others enjoy outdoor activities,” Jane was saying. “But you need to know how to do all things.”
“I want to be a lady.” His daughter looked very serious. “Like you.”
“Okay,” Jane said. “Now introduce yourself to Cinnamon. After that, I’ll show you how to touch her. It’s fine to touch her gently, but at other times you should touch her firmly. Like your daddy would hold your hand firmly to cross a street if a horse and carriage was coming toward you real fast.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “He would pick me up and run.”
“Okay, let’s see you try to pick up Cinnamon.”
Even Mak laughed at that.
He was seeing how excited Leia was about all this. Even at her young age, Leia was not content staying indoors, doing what he considered
safe
things. But how could she be? Her mother came from hardworking laborers on a sugar plantation whose ancestors had taken an uncertain ocean voyage. His parents were adventurers who had left their country to make Hawaii their home.
He was beginning to see some of the things his mother had tried to tell him about his own daughter. But he’d been helpless about what to do. Soon, she came to say refreshments were ready any time they were.
“I think you need to get cleaned up first,” his mother said to Leia. They walked ahead, with Leia telling his mother what she did and what she learned.
Jane looked up at Mak. “I would never have thought a horse like Big Brown could leave a stall so clean overnight.”
She had a way of observing the minutest of things. “And I would never have thought a child could win an apple-picking game over an accomplished horsewoman.”
“Okay,” she said, “I guess that means we’re both devious.”
“Or,” he said, “both trying to do what’s best for a child.”
“So the lesson went well?”
He nodded. “Better than I expected.”
“You mean you didn’t expect much from me?” She placed her hands on her hips.
He stopped in front of her, looking at his mother and daughter to see if they were out of hearing range. “I didn’t expect my daughter to clean out a stall. I admit I don’t know her as well as I thought I did.” He inhaled and looked over her head for a moment. “Leia is a strong-willed, adventurous little girl.”
“That isn’t bad, Mak.”
He’d heard Jane describe herself that way. He reached up and brushed aside a stray lock of hair the wind blew against her cheek. “No. Not bad at all.”
Her expression showed surprise. Was that because he’d touched her or was it his admitting that adventurous wasn’t bad? She slapped the leg of her pants. “I just realized something,” she said. “I don’t have a horse. Cinnamon needs to be here for Leia to talk to and feed oats and apples.”
“She learned a lot today. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I learned something, too. Your bringing Cinnamon to me had nothing whatsoever do with the color of my eyes or my hair. You wanted to find out if I thought the horse would be right for Leia.”
He shrugged. What could he say?
“Mak, you could have told me that.”
They’d neared the house, so he stopped again and stood in front of her. “I wasn’t trying to be deceptive. I wasn’t sure about allowing Leia to learn. It’s like this is all happening, unfolding, when I didn’t really plan it.”
Would she understand that? After a moment she said, “Could this be one of those times Uncle Russell talked about when he said the Lord works in mysterious ways?”
She stared into his eyes. After a long moment, he turned and walked on. “I don’t know,” he said seriously. “Most of God’s ways are a mystery to me.” He opened the screen door. “But I’ll get you another horse.”
Her eyes widened, and her voice sounded incredulous. “One that can really gallop?”
She could make him laugh more in a few minutes than anyone else had done. . .in a long time.
Jane thought he might choose the white horse for her but when he didn’t, she figured he thought it might be a mite too frisky. After they returned to the stables he asked a stable boy to bring Anise to the corral.
She loved the horse the moment she saw her. Mak had chosen a beautiful brown mare with a black mane and tail, not as large as Big Brown or as old, but a fine, strong animal. Maybe he did respect her ability as a horsewoman.
“Shall we gallop out and see how Panai is doing with his workout?” he asked.
“I’d love that.”
“Just remember,” he said as they mounted the horses. “Don’t try to ride like the wind before you and the horse relate well. Like you told Leia, you need to know each other first.”
Jane felt so good in the saddle, like the two of them were made for each other. “I promise,” she said. “I will not ride like the wind.” She gave him a sly look. “Like a Texas tornado wind, that is.”
He gave her a warning look. “Just try to hold it down to a gentle Hawaiian breeze for now.”
As they cantered across the velvety green range, Jane mentioned that her dad, Austin, and Inez were coming to the island. “They will probably arrive in February.”
After a moment, he said, “Oh, in wintertime.”
“What’s winter like here?”
He sighed as if that were a problem. “About two degrees cooler and a few more inches of rain.”
She laughed as he smiled at her.
“I’m sure that seems like a long way off for you.”
“Long enough for me to help Leia get over her fear and learn how to properly care for horses, get them to trust and obey.”
He scoffed. “That sounds rather religious.”
Jane smiled. “Well, aren’t we humans sometimes rather like wild horses? The Lord has to rein us in.”
His head turned toward her, and his eyes held a curious look. “You don’t strike me as a wild horse.”
“Well, I shouldn’t tell you this, but Billy and I went out behind the barn to smoke one of my daddy’s cigars. But first, I grabbed Billy and I kissed him right on the lips.”
“No,” Mak said, feigning shock. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
He laughed heartily.
“That’s funny?”
“I was remembering the description Reverend gave me of you at fourteen.”
“And that’s funny?”
“He did describe you as. . .a child. I can’t imagine that kiss being anything like a wild horse.”
“Well, we experimented with a few more kisses. That’s before we sat with our backs against the barn and began taking turns with the cigar.”
“Ahhh.” His eyebrows lifted. “Now you’re beginning to get sinful.”
She laughed at the teasing. “Oh, we paid the consequences for that. You see, that’s when I learned the meaning of a sick stomach.”
She liked his laugh. “And when I got off that ship here in Hawaii, the reminder returned. I so wanted to make a good impression.”
“You did make an indelible one,” he said. “Unforgettable.” He chuckled. “Now I know how sinful you are.”
“Oh,” she boasted. “That was only the beginning. I determined to kiss at least two boys at every church social, every party, or whenever I got the chance.” She lowered her head. “But of course, I had to pretend it was their idea so I wouldn’t get a bad reputation.”
“Why two?” he asked.
“I have always been promised to Austin. Aunt Matilda taught me that I had to consider other possibilities and I thought a kiss would be the best way.”
“And Austin always won?”
“He wasn’t always the best kisser, but he was always the best man.”
She figured turnabout was fair play, so she asked, “How old were you when you had your first kiss?”
He gazed out across the land. “Twelve? No, eleven. Yes. Eleven.”
“Eleven kisses, or eleven years old?”
He shrugged and glanced at her. “Both. She was a cutie. Brown as a Kona coffee bean. Big brown eyes. Almost all eyes and lips. You know?” He made finger motions at his own lips as if trying to draw heart-shaped ones.
Jane nodded.
“But she wouldn’t let me kiss her lips. Only her cheeks. She said her mother told her not to let a boy kiss her lips.” He sighed. “Just being near them was heaven. On about the twelfth kiss, I made a mistake and kissed her lips. I think I was twelve by then.”
“Mistake?”
He nodded. “She ran away. Never let me kiss her again.”
Jane moaned, and when he glanced at her she frowned, trying to appear sad. “Oh, the consequences of being wild horses.”
“Maybe we weren’t so bad. Just children.”
Jane realized his mood had gone from playfulness to serious. What had he been thinking? Three years without a kiss from his wife? Of course, he missed that. Her closeness, her love.
“You were just a child when you lost your mother, weren’t you?” he asked.
“My mother was killed in a tornado. She was a schoolteacher. The school collapsed. She had herded the children into the storm cellar beneath the school. I was one of those children. But she didn’t make it.”
“You know loss. Yet you seem so happy. Is it time that does it?”
“Matilda made me cry and grieve. She’s known many losses. But through the years, she has taught me that people are different. Some are uptight, and some are. . .” She turned her face toward him until he looked. “Some are free spirits.”
He smiled. “I think there’s more to it.”
“Sure there is. But I can’t teach you everything about life in only one day.”
He laughed. “We’ll just have to have classes together, teacher.” He paused. “Speaking of teaching, my mother thinks I should have Leia in the mission school. I’ve thought she was better off being tutored by my mother. But I’m beginning to think she may be right. Leia begs me to let her go there. You’ve been a girl and without a mother. What do you think?”
“I think, Mak, that you’re having as much trouble letting go of Leia as you are with letting go of. . .your wife.”
At his surprised expression, Jane apologized. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He gave her a long look. “Why did you?”
“Because,” she said, afraid she had just alienated him. “Sometimes my tongue is as uncontrollable as tumbleweed in a windstorm.”
He looked at her quickly. “I have no idea what you’re saying. Tumbleweed?”
“Tumbleweed is a plant. The wind breaks it off from the roots and rolls it along wherever it will. So what I mean is I talk a lot and sometimes say the wrong thing.”
They trotted along for quite a while. She feared he’d tell her to turn around and go back to town. He finally said, “Jane, I’ve said we could be friends and that we can talk about what’s important to us. I’ve had so many people tell me how I should feel and not feel, that I’m afraid I have a short temper where that’s concerned. I’m sorry.”
“Okay. Do you still want my opinion?”
He grinned. “Go ahead. I’ll hang on tight in case a tumble-weed heads my way.”
She began. “We both know I can’t tell you what to do. But it would be nice, I think, if Rose could be more like a grandmother. She can fill a mother’s role but can never replace her. Matilda was my wonderful, wonderful aunt, and we both have benefited from that. And the school seems to be a really fine school. The children are happy, the teachers are caring. . .ahem.”