Here to Stay (25 page)

Zach was tense at first, but when Tornado continued to exhibit only calm acceptance of everything, including the repeated slap of the screen door, he started to relax. The horse seemed to cross over some invisible line when Mandy was present, going from crazy to sane.

While the potatoes baked—Zach liked to do them the old-fashioned way—Luke asked if he could take another walk with Rosebud, alone this time. Zach was about to say no. He didn’t want Luke to leave the safety of the porch.

“It’ll be fine,” Miranda assured him. “I’ll go out with Tornado.”

Zach was dubious, but Miranda seemed so confident all would be well that he fell back on Cookie’s advice—to let Tornado see life, up close and personal, with no abusive or fearful events. Over the time that the stallion had stood by the porch, Zach had started to buy into the idea that Miranda’s presence somehow soothed the stallion, forestalling any maniacal outbursts from him. Zach could only shake his head and accept it.

Tornado didn’t act up while Zach got Luke and Rosebud lined out for a walk alone. The stallion stood contentedly with his head hanging over Mandy’s shoulder, watching with keen interest as Zach schooled Luke in the proper handling procedures. “If you feel her halt, pay attention. She’ll tap with her hoof sometimes, so feel with your foot to see what she’s telling you. It may be something in your path, a hole in the ground, a rock, or whatever. When you’re holding this halter handle, Rosebud becomes your eyes. You understand? It’s her job to guide you and warn you of danger. If you listen, you’ll have a blast.”

Luke nodded, his expression animated. “I can do it, I think.”

Zach forced himself to back away. With more confidence than he actually felt, he said, “Sure you can. I’ll watch. If you do something wrong, or if she does, I’ll call out to you. Okay?”

Luke nodded and signaled Rosebud to move forward. Zach stepped back and folded his arms. It was gratifying, but also terrifying to observe Luke, a blind person, depending upon a horse that Zach had only halfway trained to guide.

“Loosen up on the grip, Luke!” Zach called. “You’re confusing her. She thinks you want her to stop. Just relax. Trust her.”

Luke relaxed his hold, stumbled after the horse, who quickened her pace, and then righted his balance. After he’d taken a dozen steps, a huge grin spread across his face.

Mandy watched for a moment and then turned her gaze toward Zach. Even from fifteen feet away, a distance Zach maintained because of Tornado’s presence, he could see the gratitude in her eyes. “Whether or not this goes anywhere,” she said, “thank you so much for this moment. Luke’s never willingly walked outdoors alone. When I forced him, it ended in disaster. This is the very first time he’s grabbed onto the idea and really enjoyed it.”

Zach found it difficult to speak. Watching Luke and Rosebud together was the culmination of more than two years of dedication and hard work, the first stint with a dog trainer, and the last several weeks doing hands-on training with the mini. It was extremely rewarding, but for reasons beyond him, it was also earthshaking. He returned his gaze to Luke, taking in his glad smile. The kid hadn’t relaxed yet, but with each passing moment, he seemed to gain more confidence.

“I hope this works,” Zach heard himself say. “I hope Luke shapes up and proves to me that he deserves her.”

He wanted to take the words back the instant he said them. This was Mandy’s brother he was talking about. To his relief, she didn’t take offense. Instead, she smiled and said, “He has a lot of measuring up to do. But just look at him. He loves this. For the first time in years, he’s free. That’s such a gift for someone like Luke, who’s fought so hard not to be free. Now that he’s gotten a taste of it, he has something wonderful to work toward. Thank you.”

Zach stiffened. “Yo, Luke! When she angles across your legs, listen up. There’s a pipe on the ground a few feet ahead. You need to go around it or stop.”

Luke jerked to a halt. “What do I do?”

Zach stepped forward a few paces so Luke could hear him clearly. It occurred to him that he’d just shouted and Tornado hadn’t even flinched. “Steer her in one direction. See if she goes.” Zach deliberately didn’t tell Luke which way to go. “If she still angles in front of you, try the other way. She’ll tell you when you’re picking the right direction.”

Luke aimed left, and Rosebud blocked him. Zach grinned as the kid switched directions. Rosebud happily went that way, and they were off again.

“That’s amazing.” Mandy curled a hand up over Tornado’s neck as she flashed Zach a grateful smile. “Absolutely amazing.”

What amazed Zach was that his head-shy stallion seemed to love having Mandy’s hands on him, no matter where she decided to put them. Zach could get that. Oh, man, could he ever get that. Looking at her now, he knew he’d never clapped eyes on a more beautiful woman. The old oil stick went hard. He angled his body away from Mandy so she wouldn’t see, silently lecturing that part of his body that had no brains to behave itself. Fat chance. He had to get out of here for a second.

“Hey, Luke, wait up!” he called. “I want to show you something else.”

At least the kid wouldn’t be able to see how embarrassed Zach was right now—or why.

Chapter Ten

Z
ach couldn’t recall ever enjoying an afternoon quite so much. The weather was perfect, balmy for February, and kissed with sunlight. He worked hard to be a good host, engaging Luke in conversation, cracking jokes, and trying to set a relaxed mood. Except for the steaks, which would take only minutes to grill, the simple meal was ready once the potatoes had baked. Zach turned off the oven and left them inside to stay warm while he gave his guests a tour of the stable.

Tornado accompanied them to the arena. By this time, Zach had almost stopped worrying about the stallion. The horse stuck close to Mandy and seemed to take everything in stride. Still, Zach used a back entrance to avoid the stallion section at the front of the building. Cookie waved at them from across the arena. Ordinarily his smug expression would have irritated Zach, but today he decided the old codger was entitled to it.

Ethel, preparing to wrap it up for the day, emerged from the feed room, stopped dead, and gaped at Tornado in startled amazement. “Is that the same horse?”

Zach lifted his hands in bewilderment. He couldn’t explain the transformation. Ethel waved and exited the barn through a side door well away from Tornado.

At first Luke was afraid to pet the horses. “I can hear them. That’s enough.”

“Don’t be silly, Luke,” Mandy said. “They’re inside cages.”

“Can’t they bite?”

Mandy shot Zach a questioning look. He responded with, “Yes, horses can bite, but none of these have ever bitten anyone. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“They’re just bigger versions of Rosebud,” Mandy said. “You’re not afraid of her.”

To distract Luke, Zach began giving biographical sketches of every horse. When he mentioned that he’d bottle-fed Stormy when her dam rejected her, Luke stopped.

“She must be pretty used to people, then, right?”

“She is. For a long time she followed me around like a pup whenever she saw me. She thought I was her mother. I had an awful time living it down with the help.”

Luke laughed. “Where is she? Are you sure she won’t bite me?”

“Positive.”

The boy held out his free hand and tentatively ran it over Stormy’s lowered head.

“She’s so
big
!” Luke marveled. “I never imagined they were so tall.”

It struck Zach in that moment that Luke had never seen a full-size horse, or had forgotten if he had. What else had the kid forgotten or never seen? Looking around the arena, Zach realized it couldn’t be easy to get around in a completely black world. No wonder Luke took the path of least risk, depending on Mandy for everything. By her own admission, she had made that easy for him to do.

Smiling, Miranda turned from the gate. “While Luke gets acquainted with Stormy, I’ll take Tornado back to his stall. The other horses are eating. I think he missed dinner.”

That was true. Cookie and Ethel had already fed the animals. “They probably put hay in his feeder already. You want to give him his evening ration of grain?”

She smiled up at Zach, her eyes glowing with warmth. “I’d love to.”

Zach glanced at Luke. “Hey, buddy, will you be okay for a few minutes?”

Tightening his hand over the mini’s halter grip, Luke stopped petting the mare. “Can Rosebud stay with me?”

“Sure. The stallion section’s only about sixty feet away.” Zach wondered if Luke had a mental image of how long sixty feet was. The kid had undoubtedly learned measurements in school, but that didn’t mean he could picture them. “Be right back.”

Tornado didn’t protest being returned to his stall. Zach remained outside the gate, allowing Mandy to shut the paddock doors and give the stallion his grain. Watching woman and stallion, Zach got an almost surreal feeling. He totally agreed with Ethel: With Mandy, Tornado was a different horse.

Minutes later, Mandy and Luke sat on the porch, snacking on corn chips and salsa—Zach’s version of an appetizer. Mandy appreciated Zach’s approach to entertaining. The simplicity allowed her to relax and enjoy the moment. And Mandy
was
enjoying it. The weather was perfect, with only a slight nip in the air as the afternoon gave way to evening. As the darkness deepened, Zach lit the gas fire pit, and Mandy helped Luke move his chair to sit by the dancing flames. She thought about getting Luke his jacket, but he seemed fine without it.

Mandy took a deep breath, appreciating the smells that surrounded her, the scent of pine trees mingling with the aroma of the searing meat that Zach had just put on the grill. Sitting beside her brother, she munched on chips and shared the salsa with him.

While the steaks cooked, Zach disappeared into the house. Moments later, he shouldered his way back out the screen door, holding two wide-mouthed goblets, each half-filled with purplish red wine. Grinning, he offered one of the glasses to Mandy.

Her stomach knotted, and she actually felt the color drain from her face. “No, thank you.” Even to her ears, her voice rang cold and sharp. “I don’t drink.”

Zach treated her to a long, penetrating look. “Okay. More wine for me, I guess. Can I get you and Luke a soda?”

“None for me, thank you,” Mandy managed to push out.

Luke said, “I’m good for right now. Maybe I’ll have some soda with dinner.”

Get a grip
, Mandy thought.
It’s only a little wine
. But the silent lecture she gave herself didn’t loosen the ball of tension in her middle, and to her dismay, she felt herself start to shake. She watched Zach set both wineglasses on the redwood barbecue shelf. Nausea crawled up her throat. Sweat filmed her face and the back of her neck.

“Stay calm,” Luke whispered. “Lots of people drink wine at dinnertime, no big deal.”

But to Mandy, it
was
a big deal. Her every childhood memory had been tainted by her father’s drinking. Maybe it was irrational—no
maybe
to it; it
was
irrational—but to her, being around a man who drank was as chilling and frightening as having a loaded gun pointed at her head. And, oh, God, she felt betrayed, as if Zach had tricked her. Until now, she’d seen him touch no alcohol, and she’d started to think he never did.

Mandy struggled to calm down. This visit was for Luke, and she
couldn’t
ruin it for him by saying or doing something stupid. How she felt didn’t matter. Racing for her car and leaving wasn’t an option. Somehow she’d get through dinner, smiling. She would not let on that being around alcohol made her feel panicky and claustrophobic.

Zach lifted the lid of the grill and glanced over his shoulder toward the fire pit. “I like my steak rare. How would you two like yours?”

Luke put in an order for medium. Mandy’s heart was pounding so hard it felt as if it might crack a rib. “I, um ... Any old way is fine for me. I’m not fussy.”

Zach pinned her with another of those thoughtful looks that seemed to pierce her skin like a laser. Then he turned the meat and lowered the lid.

A bit later, when they sat down for dinner at Zach’s beautifully set kitchen table, Mandy’s tension mounted. The remaining wineglass was set only three feet away from her, the deep red liquid inside it glinting in the overhead light. For her, it was like trying to eat with a coiled rattlesnake near her plate. She took a bite of meat and nearly choked as she swallowed. She pushed the food around, making little piles so it would appear that she’d consumed some of it. The untouched steak was a dead giveaway, so she cut off pieces that never went in her mouth.

Zach attempted to keep a conversation going, but Mandy was too distracted to offer anything more than monosyllabic rejoinders. When Luke dropped his fork, she jumped as if she’d been scalded. She tried not to watch Zach when he sipped the wine, but she couldn’t stop herself. Once when he caught her gaping at him, the expression that crossed his dark face asked more clearly than words,
What the hell is
this
all about?

Mandy couldn’t have explained that to him if she tried. Luke was right: A lot of people enjoyed wine with dinner. It wasn’t as if Zach were getting pie-eyed. Unfortunately, Mandy could tell herself that repeatedly and still couldn’t control the mix of torrential emotions that kept crashing through her.

If it hadn’t been for Luke, the meal would have been a nightmare. He talked excitedly about his walks with Rosebud and even asked questions about how she had been trained. Zach responded with appropriate noises. Mandy could tell that he wished for the meal to be over, and she shared the sentiment. Even the German chocolate cake she’d brought didn’t lighten the mood. She refused dessert, saying she was full.

Once the meal was over, Mandy offered to help with cleanup, but Zach declined. “I didn’t think to pitch in last night when you fed me. Turnabout’s fair play.”

The relief Mandy felt must have shown on her face, because she saw a spark of anger flash in his eyes. She didn’t blame him for that. He’d entertained them all afternoon. He’d been wonderful with Luke. Under any other circumstances, she would have savored every bite of her meal. Intellectually, she knew none of this was his fault, that her reaction to the wine had been and still was absurd.