Sunday continued.
"So Mrs Bell. What is on your list?" He asked as he helped her up porch steps, the rail, a bit rotted, rickety, wiggled under her hand. He remarked, "Replacing this rail is definitely on it."
She didn't respond, she was focused on getting to the front door, letting Sugarfoot out of the house. He was waiting for her, her best friend in all the world, the quirky miniature white Appaloosa who thought he was human.
Opening the unlocked door, the horse stood before her in the doorway, she gushed, "Oh Sugarfoot. Did you miss me? I missed you!" She ran her delicate hands, skin paper thin, through his mane. She bent to kiss his nose, "You must need to potty. So go on. We can snuggle later."
He nodded, tossed his tail, blew air making a low trumpeting sound, clip clopped down the stairs, took off running into the yard as fast as his short legs could take him. He disappeared down the path toward the apple orchard.
Watching the whole scene unfold, almost out of a child's fairytale, Ty chuckled, tickled at the pure innocence of their shared love. If only every child was raised in this idyllic world, there would be no war, no sadness, no hate, no doubt. Ty briefly envied the tiny horse, then shook his head to dispel the silly thought.
Settling into a rocking chair, Mrs. Bell insisted that Ty sit next to her. "Ty, tell me, how are you? Really. No fibbing." Then she reminded him, "I hear things."
He had no idea where she got her information but it was usually spot on. "Well. Mostly I am good."
"Oh Ty. You are all good."
He grinned. "School is going well. My grades are good." He was modest, worked hard and his grades showed that. He was proud of them, but he considered them his achievements alone, he didn't need to brag.
But he also knew without her, it would not be possible. "Mrs. Bell. Thank you again for the tuition money. I wouldn't be able to go otherwise." So he willing share with her.
"As your honorary grandmother, I am most happy to help." She paused. "Straight A's?"
"Yes." He replied quietly, grinned wide.
"Well good for you. I am proud of you. More importantly, you should be proud of yourself." Knowing it made him uncomfortable, she moved on to another topic. "And work?"
"Well. I am working for Jack again until I get a job as a vet assistant somewhere."
"Ranch hand, Jack told me." She then went straight for the bone. "Also, heard that you left the Hudson Clinic in a lurch to go work at that Wildlife Reserve."
"Did Scott tell you?"
"He didn't have to, it was written all over his face." She added. "And, there's talk."
"Yeah. Well. It seemed like the right thing, only thing to do at the time. Scott couldn't guarantee me a job...and Bob Grainger offered me one." he explained. "So.."
"Was the grass greener on the other side?"
"Thought it would be but...No. Bob was being paid by poachers to look the other way. So now they are all in jail awaiting trial."
"So now what?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Ty Borden. Don't shrug your shoulders at me. You know what you need to do."
He didn't respond.
"Dr. Cardinal has given you many opportunities, many chances." She pointed a finger at him. "Loyalty, honesty and forgiveness, especially when the chips are down, are marks of a true friend."
Agreeing with her, "Scott got me interested in Vet school. Took me under his wing."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Ask him for my job back?" He guessed.
"Absolutely not." She shook her head. "You are going to ask him for forgiveness. That's where you start."
He sighed "Okay. I will. You are right. He's always had my back. I haven't always been a good friend."
"You said it." She looked him in the eye. "You got to stop running, Ty. You need to stand and fight."
Mrs. Bell had told him this many times, but when he was about to run, he stopped thinking.
He frowned, changed the subject. "Mrs. Bell. Look. I need to get started on your chores if you want me to get anything done today."
"Okay. Ty. We can hold off on that topic until later."
He sighed heavily. She could be so frustrating.
She told him what needed to be done. Cut the grass around her house, fix the spout into rain barrel, secure the bottom porch step. Ty added fixing the hand rail.
"Ty. I want you to build a two stall barn. No make that a three stall barn."
"Today?"
"Oh heavens, no. You need to design it, pick up the supplies and build it."
"Mrs. Bell. I appreciate your confidence in me. But I have never built a barn. I have no skills and no idea where to start."
"Well. As you are working today, think about how you are going to build that barn." Obviously, she wasn't going to take No for an answer.
"Even if I think about it, I still won't know how to build barn."
"Well, Look it up on your smart phone, or phone a friend. You are intelligent, figure it out."
"Okay." He said, resigning his argument. He hoped she would forget about it.
He surveyed the thick grass, tall, over a foot high, more than three acres, in desperate need of mowing. At least, it was no longer damp with dew, he noted. He had cut her grass before, many times actually, knew it to be backbreaking work, especially with her agricultural relic, human propelled, two wheeled mower, really more of a grass chewer then a mower.
But, he actually liked the work, the rhythmic sound of the blades rotating, chewing, the sweet smell of cut grass, the sweat pouring from his body, cathartic in some ways. In the shed, he checked out the mower blade, dull and rusty, he had to sharpen it with a rasp first. Another chore he didn't really mind, metal against metal, one shaping the other, the sshhoow, sshhoow sound pleasing to his ear, for some reason.
Nearly one in the afternoon, he finally had finished cutting the grass, cleaned the mower, put it away, then dropped his tired body into a chair on the porch to cool off, rest. Mrs. Bell had fixed him a chicken salad sandwich cut on the diagonal, apple slices, and two glasses, one filled with water, the other with lemonade.
"Nothing like the smell of fresh cut grass." She said, after she took a sip of her lemon water, tepid, no ice, no sugar. "Thank you."
He nodded.
He took a huge swig of the lemonade. "Nothing like the taste of cold lemonade on a hot day." He smiled. "Thank you."
She nodded.
Taking a bite of the sandwich, chicken salad piled high between two thick slices of homemade bread, he said. "This is so good. And, the chicken salad is so fresh. Do I taste lemon? What's your secret?"
"I make my own mayonnaise. It has fresh squeezed lemon in it."
"Really. Not out of a jar?"
"Don't be ridiculous." She said, he smiled.
They sat in silence, enjoying a fresh breeze, pretty vista, swaying flowers and herbs.
"Where's Sugarfoot? Is he inside?" Ty asked.
"Heavens no. On a pretty day, he plays outside. House rules." Mrs. Bell was perfectly serious. "He'll be in for our afternoon nap at about 2 or so."
"Good to know." He grinned, not knowing what she'd say, but not surprised by her answer either. "Well, guess I better get to it. I'll get the dishes first."
Sitting on the bed in Soraya's girlhood bedroom, the girls chatted. "Soraya. Tell me about London."
"Oh Amy. London is such a great city, alive with people, history, art and architecture. I love to just walk around, see new things, meet new people, find new shops, discover new cafes. I feel like I can spread my wings, grow, experience." Soraya said excitedly, her hands gesturing, grin wide, eyes dancing.
Amy couldn't help but be happy for her friend. "Oh Soraya, good for you."
"Every day is a new day, I have learned so much. Not just school stuff but about myself. There is so much out there, so much more than in Hudson. It's just exhilarating."
"Do you think you'll ever return to Hudson to live?"
"You know I love Hudson, it's my home, it's where my best friend lives." She caught Amy's eye, smiled. "But..."
"But.."
"To visit? Yes. To live? I doubt it." Amy could not hide her disappointment, her frown. "Oh."
Soraya continued. "Here's the thing, Amy. In Hudson, my life was already molded, set. Everyone knows me, has expectations, and in some ways, has decided my fate..."
"But Soraya. Everyone loves you. You are smartest, kindest person in Hudson. You are always the optimist with a big smile." Then she grinned. "Plus, you were voted most likely to succeed."
"See. I reached my pinnacle here, all before my 18th birthday. Just check the yearbook, it says so." She laughed.
"So in London?"
"In London, I'm like a blank slate, no one has expectations. No one knows me as the Hudson High valedictorian, Maggie's waitress, eternal optimist, goody two shoe, who sports a perpetual smile and is easily fooled by men."
"Soraya. You are way more than that." Amy meant it, though she knew her best friend's reputation in Hudson was exactly as Soraya described.
"I am. In London, at school, I get to experiment, learn, grow, evolve. If I want to be grumpy, sleep with five guys at one time, fail a test, no one says, 'What has gotten into Soraya? That's not like her. She's changed.'"
"Are you sleeping with five guys?" Amy's eyes were wide.
"Of course not." Soraya shook her head. "I just want the freedom to change without being questioned."
Amy nodded. "I get that."
"At school, my classmates and professors come with different experiences, backgrounds, sensibilities than me. Through our discussions, debates, my eyes and ears are opened to all these new thoughts, ideas, information. So naturally my beliefs, my understanding of things are challenged, maybe debunked, changed, expanded, refined, tweaked. But the thing is, I have the power to decide, to define myself, write my own narrative." Soraya was almost breathless as she beamed.
"Soraya make it sound so, I don't know, liberating. You are right, Hudson doesn't embrace change." Then she admitted. "My family and Ty don't either."
"You know Amy. They love you very much. It's just hard for them to see you grow up. Voice your mind. They will come around."
"Maybe." She paused, then said. "Tell me about your classes."
"Graduate school is even better than undergrad. I get to really focus on psychology, and you know, I love that. I am doing clinical work now. So I get to observe a licensed psychologist work with patients. Amy, people are so fascinating."
"What kinds of patients, what kinds of issues are you seeing, observing?"
"I observed all sorts of patients, really. Young, old, rich, poor, educated, not. What's really interesting is that people of seemingly different backgrounds, characteristics, lifestyles can have nearly the same issues."
"Like?"
"A well off person can be just as unhappy as a poor person. A man can have just as many insecurities as a woman. Old and young people can be drug dependent, have marital woes, experience money problems, you name it."
"So what's the key to resolving the issues?"
"Key? I don't think there is a single key." Then she added. "I just find it really interesting how people cope, deal or not deal with their situation. I get to observe the therapy process, how it can help the patient process their thoughts, emotions, heal, get stronger." Soraya was passionate as she talked, explained.
"Soraya. Sounds like you are exactly where you should be." Amy said, meaning it.
"I am."
"I should have gone to school when I had the chance." Amy lamented.
"Amy. You can still have the chance to go, now or later. But, really life itself is school. Hmm, what's that phrase? Life is the school of hard knocks? Anyhow, we are always learning, changing, if we chose."
"I have never been fond of change."
"I know. But it's gonna happen. So, you might as well enjoy it."
Amy nodded quietly, reflecting on her best friend. "Oh Soraya Duval. I have missed you."
"Oh Amy Fleming. I've missed you too." Then she added. "Hey. Come visit me in London."
"I would love that!"
"Oh my gosh. Look at the time. I need to get packing."
Amy watched her best friend methodically pack her suitcase. Each item of clothing was clean, pressed, then rolled to maximize the space and to reduce wrinkles.
In contrast, Amy's packing style was haphazard, waiting until the last moment, she was apt to mix clean and dirty clothes, adding too many shirts and not enough socks, throwing everything in the suitcase, unfolded.
Except in Europe. There, Amy was assigned a driver, Syed, and a personal assistant, Adela, who took care of her, her clothes, shopping, packing. At first, it was weird, having a stranger touch and pack her clothes, panties, bras, unmentionables. But, Amy grew to love opening her suitcase in her hotel room, everything clean, folded, wrapped in tissue tied with a silk ribbon. It was like Christmas every time she opened her suitcase.
Initially, Adela replenished things with Amy's normal brands, style of clothing, a pair of ripped wranglers were replaced a new pair of wranglers. But, Adela's eye for soft, silky, even expensive things, slowly crept into Amy's suitcase, her closet, replacing her old, worn things, clothes with more expensive, luxurious replacements. Amy grew to love these new things, the way they made her feel and look.
As the team began winning, Amy was invited to more dinners, events which she needed to "dress" for. So, after a long day, Amy appreciated that Adela laid out her evening outfit so she didn't have to decide. And, when Ahmed was in a sour mood, Adela often selected an outfit in a color or style Ahmed favored just to brighten his outlook. The outfits, of course, were just suggestions, she told herself. Occasionally, the neckline was too plunging, slit in the skirt too high, Amy would just pick something else, but mostly she went with Adela's picks.
Then Adela began to schedule appointments for her, like a tailor, hair stylist, manicurist, masseuse, even a European wax specialist. Generally on Friday afternoons, Amy was pampered from top to bottom. At first it was strange, having someone else take care of her person. But, she grew to appreciate, anticipate, even love the appointments, being pampered, cared for. She felt like she deserved it after a long week of work. She could even relate, for the first time, to Lou's gushing about spa days.
As Soraya packed, Amy was preoccupied with thoughts of Adela. "Earth to Amy!"
"Oh sorry. Soraya."
"Where were you?"
She was embarrassed. "I was thinking about packing when I was in Europe. We were always on the go, moving all the time."
"That must have been a pain, working all day, packing all night."
"Actually, Adela packed for me." Amy told her best friend about the practice. The more she talked, the more uncomfortable she got.
"Amy. Did you buy all those clothes, spa treatments and other things, or did Ahmed?"
"My paycheck every week was reduced by the clothes and groceries that Adela bought for me."
"Do you have a record of that?"
"Yeah. I kept my pay stubs, receipts, pics, and stuff with my journal. It was really more like a travel diary."
"That's good. Do you think Ahmed picked out those things?" Soraya asked.
"Oh my god. I have no idea." She shook her head. "Maybe." She said at last.
"Eww. That's a scary thought." Soraya added. "Your boss picking out your clothes, underwear."
Amy began to consider other possibilities. "You know, my devices were loaded with spyware, I assumed the Syed's car was bugged." She ventured. "I mean. What if it was more than more that? Maybe my apartment, hotel rooms, the practice arena."
Her mind was freaking out, going a million miles an hour. What else did they know, hear, see. She racked her brain thinking about all the things she said, did. How those things could be taken out of context.
"I would not put it past him. Oh my god Amy. What are you going to do?"
"First tell Ty. I promised him today that I would be open and honest."
"A step in the right direction."
"He may never speak to me again."
"If you love him Amy, and I know you do, you have to be honest." Soraya added. "The truth has a way of making itself known anyhow."
"Yeah. Like that stupid video."
"Yeah." She nodded. "And, after you tell Ty?"
"Then tell RCMP." Amy was quiet for a moment, then she said. "Oh Soraya. I'm afraid things are going keep getting worse." Her eyes started to fill with tears.
Soraya grabbed her shoulders. "Stop Amy. What's done is done." She shook her to break her out of self pity. "Remember, you are strong. You have the right to speak your own truth. Even if others try to do that for you. That includes Ahmed."
"Probably easier said than done. But, I think you are right." She took a deep breath, looked at her best friend. "I am going to need a lot of advice, back-up and support."
"You got it from me. Always."
"Soraya Duval. I am so incredibly grateful for you. You have been my best friend as long as I can remember. You listen and offer me good advice. You do not judge me. Thank you."
"Why thank you." Soraya smiled. "And Amy Fleming. You are everything I want in a best friend. You listen to me, you encourage me to pursue my dreams, you support me, you never put me down. You do not judge me. Thank you."
They smiled at each other, hugged. "I am going to miss you so much." Amy said.
"We'll stay in touch. Promise."
"Absolutely." They hugged, rocking each other side to side.
"I better finish packing."
After putting her groceries and supplies, Amy texted Ty. "T. We need to talk as soon as possible. Face to face. Please. A."
Amy was anxious, nervous, scared waiting for Ty's return text. Jittery almost. So she did what she normally does, she went to work, tried to block out everything else.
She rounded up Parsnip from the field to work on jumps, both alone and with Amy.
"Hey pretty girl. How was the field play today? Have some fun?" The horse seemed to respond to her banter, her calm, regular voice but still showed remnants of insecurity.
Amy led her into the jumping ring, encouraged her as she free jumped the mid-height fences through the chute a couple of times. She could tell, Parsnip was making small, but positive improvements. But, mostly, Parsnip's confidence was growing, she clipped only one rail. Amy then saddled her, ran the chute with her two more times, encouraging her. Though she clean jumped the fences, she was still holding back. She still had work to do, but Amy was satisfied, called it a day. Untacked and stalled, Parsnip enjoyed apple slices and a couple of mints as Amy loved on her with sweet words and gentle touches.
While the chamomile, bergamot, bananas and honey were having some good effect, Midnight was still unsettled, pacing the stall, nipping when she got too close, just generally disagreeable. She had hoped to do start a join up today, but she had an uneasy feeling, especially in the way he looked at her. He didn't trust her. Heck, she didn't trust herself. She thought that he could use some regular old horse time to take more of the edge off, released him into the field. She watched him run, skip really, darting back and forth, jumping, prancing, until he stopped and rolled in the grass. She smiled at his obvious joy.
She figured she needed regular horse time too with Spartan. She looked at watch, it was just 3pm. She didn't think Mrs. Bell would mind too much if she came early. Maybe she could pick tomatoes or cucumbers in her garden. She smiled at the simplicity of that.
Amy called to Spartan who was in the field, enjoying sun with Harley. Both horses came flying to her, stopping just short of the fence. "Good boys! How was your day in the field? You both look so relaxed. Harley, Spartan and I need to go see Mrs. Bell. Okay boy? Ty and I will do night check together."
Both horses seemed to understand, but Harley just hung his head over the fence, staring at her with his big, brown eyes, while Amy led Spartan out of the gate to the barn.
Fully tacked, Amy urged her horse down the dirt road toward Mrs. Bell's house. It wasn't long before Matt and his horse came galloping up beside her, then fell in step.
"Amy. You are supposed to keep us informed of your comings and goings." He lectured her.
"Matt. I am just going to Mrs. Bell's. I will be fine." She smiled. "You seem to keep close tabs on me anyhow."
"Why are you being so stubborn? RCMP is here to protect you from harm. Help us do our job." Matt said, frustrated that she was continuing to take chances, unnecessary risks, somehow believing that she wasn't in danger. She seemed to only worry about others.
Amy pulled up Spartan to a halt. Matt did the same, "Whoa, Sky."
"Okay Matt. I need your help." She had planned to tell him after she talked to Ty. Something changed her mind.
"What?"
"Find out if Adela Safar is in Alberta. Or better yet, find out where she is. Please."
"Who is she?"
"She was my personal valet in Europe." Matt looked confused.
"Valet? I thought that Syed was your driver."
"He was. She was more like my personal assistant. She did things like make appointments, pack, shop for me."
"Okay. What are you worried about?"
"Look. Find out where she is. We may have to expand the orders."
"Okay." Clearly she was holding back, but he still trusted her instincts. "Tell me about her, you know age, coloring, etc."
"Adela is Arabian, 25 years old, dark long straight hair but blue eyes. She is really beautiful, incredibly striking. She has my height and build."
"Do you have a picture?"
She paused. "Maybe." She checked in her phone, found a picture of the two of them at boutique hotel outside of Paris. "Found one. Just sent it to you."
He looked at the picture, his eyebrows raised a just a hair, lips slightly curved upward.
"I see you agree that she's beautiful." Amy teased him.
He ignored her comment. "That's enough to get started."
"Thank you. It may be nothing but.."
"We'll keep you posted."
They pushed their horses forward into a synced gallop until they got to the Bell property.
"Thanks. See you in an hour or two." She said.
"See you in two. Enjoy." He said, knowing that she liked her visits with the odd, old woman.
It was half past three when she got there. No one was in the yard, not Mrs. Bell, not Sugarfoot, not Ty. The grass been freshly mowed, so she knew he had been there. She wasn't sure if she was disappointed or relieved. She knew they needed to talk, but she really wasn't ready.
She had just tied up Spartan, when Ty pulled up in Old Blue with lumber sticking out of the truck bed. She waved to him.
Exiting the truck, he yelled, "Hey. I didn't expect to see you here."
"Yeah. Well, the best laid plans of mice and men...or women in this case, soon go awry."
"Oh?"
"Midnight wasn't ready to work today."
"Just Midnight?"
"Well, maybe I wasn't ready either." She admitted.
"Well. Want to help me with the hand rail? I could use an extra set of hands." Then he laughed. "No pun intended."
"Sure." She smiled. They had always worked well together, regardless of the task. Fixing his motorcycle, finding Spartan, doing dishes, vaccinating wild horses. It didn't matter, they just fit, knew each other so well.
"Good." He went to the truck, started to bring the supplies to the porch.
"Where is Mrs. Bell?"
"Napping with Sugarfoot. I am surprised that they aren't awake. It's been an hour and half."
"I'll check on them." She walked into the silent house, first she peeked into Sugarfoot's room. He was lying on his side on a queen sized mattress covered in old quilts on the floor. His head was perched on a feather pillow. He opened one eye, glanced at her then quickly shut it. He stretched his four legs away from his body, then drew them inward. He clearly was not finished with his nap. She retreated from the room, closing the door behind her.
She slowly opened Mrs. Bell's door. She was sitting on the side of the bed, feet and legs dangling. Her hair was a bit mussed, her sweater askew, her feet were bare. "Amy, dear. This is a pleasant surprise. You are here early."
"Hello Mrs. Bell. I hope I didn't wake you."
"Nonsense. My nap is over." She held one hand out to Amy, patted the bed next to her with the other, inviting her to sit. Sitting side by side, Mrs. Bell clutched her young friend's hand. "How are you dear?"
"I am good."
"I know you are good Amy. But something is clearly bothering you. I see it in your brow."
"Mrs. Bell. I have to talk to Ty about things but I am afraid that he won't want to hear it. Or, he won't believe me. Or worse, that he won't want to talk to me again."
"There is a saying, Tell the truth, or else someone will tell it for you." She patted her hand. "Tell the truth. Tell him everything from beginning to end. Amy. Just be kind, be loving. Accept his response gracefully."
"Everything?"
"Yes. Even the smallest detail. You know it's the right thing to do."
"I do. But I am scared."
Mrs. Bell wrapped her arms gently around Amy, pulled her to close, cradled her. Amy rested her head on her shoulder, forehead against her neck. Mrs. Bell, who smelled of rose petals and rosemary, whispered. "Don't be afraid. The good book says that the truth will set you free."
Sighed heavily, nodded.
"Stay in here for a moment, dear. Gather yourself." She smiled at her, touched her face. "I need to wake Sugarfoot from his nap. Otherwise he'll be cranky and won't go to bed tonight." With that, Mrs. Bell kissed her forehead, stood, slipped on her shoes, straightened her sweater and hair, left the room.
Amy sat on the bed, covered with a beautiful crazy quilt of rich velvets, satins and embroidery. On the nightstand was a hand tinted photograph, in a delicately carved wooden frame. Mr. and Mrs. Bell on their wedding day, standing close, holding hands, looking at each other, smiling in pure bliss, unabashed love, unaware of anyone else.
They made a lovely couple. Mr. Bell, handsome, tall, dark hair, wore a suit, tie, a single flower in his thin lapel. Mrs. Bell was beautiful, graceful, her long dark hair was pulled in a wave and tuck fashionable in that era, adorned with a delicate barrette of pearls. She wore a princess tea length dress, in the palest blue, off the shoulder neckline, three quarter sleeves, fitted bodice, A line skirt. Her cheeks were a rosy tint, as were her lips. She held a small bouquet of white flowers down by her side carelessly, seemed ready to drop them to hold her new husband in an embrace.
The photograph transfixed her, made her smile, long for Ty to look at her the way Mr. Bell looked at Mrs. Bell. There was a quiet knock at the door, "Amy?"
"Yes. I am coming." She opened the door to find Ty there, look of concern on his face.
"Hey. Everything okay? I saw your text. You want to talk?"
"Yes. But, let's work on the rail first."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded, then passed him, almost touching him, as she walked to the front screen door, pushed through onto the porch. Across the yard, she could see Mrs. Bell under a wide brimmed straw hat tending to her herbs. Ty had followed her, was standing next to her.
"She's truly a one of a kind." Amy offered.
"Yeah she is." He smiled. "Um. She told me to give you a chance to talk, that I should listen."
"She did?"
"Yeah." He looked at her. "What's up, Amy?"
She ignored his question, but smiled. "She loves us both so much." She sighed. "Let's get started on the chores."
He nodded. Together they removed the rotted wood, replacing newel post, balusters, bottom and top rails with cedar to match, fairly closely, the original. They worked well together, symbiotic, each bringing something to the job. Amy planned, measured, held while Ty carried, cut, hammered. Finishing up the bottom step, replacing the tread, they sat on the porch swing, swaying slowly, admiring their handiwork, drinking a glass of water.
"I went by the clinic today." Ty mentioned.
"To see Scott?"
"Yeah."
"That's good. How did that go?"
"I apologized for leaving him in the lurch, then asked for his forgiveness."
"Wow. What did he say?"
"He said he understood, that he forgave me." He shrugged his shoulder, smiled.
"Good talk then?"
"Very good."
"Ty?"
"Yeah?"
"I am proud of you." They both grinned.
"Thanks. Hey. You ready to start on the down spout?" He stood up.
"Yeah. Let's do that."
The fix for the rain spout was fairly straightforward, Ty simply had to climb a twenty foot ladder to reattach the down spout to the gutter at the side of the porch while Amy held the ladder. The whole job took less than 20 minutes. As Ty was coming down the ladder he missed a rung, while trying to catch himself, awkwardly knocked her down. He landed right on top of her, their faces just inches apart. Their eyes met, he smiled at her, gently lowered his lips to hers. At the last moment, she turned her head. He kissed her cheek.
She grabbed his hand. "Ty. Let's go for a walk." She looked at him, eyes pleading.
"Okay." He paused. "Amy? If this is more about Europe, then I don't want to talk about it any more." He said honestly.
She shook her head. "Not exactly."
"Oh? What then?"
"Ty. Please."
Mrs. Bell came out of nowhere, was standing on the bottom step, hand on the rail. She cleared her throat. "Good work you two. These will last until my seventieth birthday. Thank you."
They both smiled at her, then raised their eyebrows to each other. Ty mouthed "Isn't she 80?" Amy shrugged her shoulders as they headed down the steps.
"Mrs. Bell, Amy and I are going to take a short walk."
She step up to him, her piercing blue eyes, she bore into Ty's green ones, poked her finger at his chest. "Ty. Remember what I said. Let her talk. Listen to her."
He nodded, "Okay. Okay." He looked at Amy, "Let's go."
"Thank you." She said quietly, hugged Mrs. Bell.
"Be honest. Remember the truth will set you free." She whispered in her ear.
They walked along silently, down the worn path through the stands of lavender, rosemary and thistle. Butterflies, bees and dragonflies, rising, landing, flitting with darting purpose. She didn't know how to start, where to begin. She knew her words would be hard to hear, harder to read, it pained her to think she would hurt him again. But, he needed to know.
"Look Amy!" He pointed toward a sea of deep blues and purples swaying in the gentle breeze.
A tiny creature, jeweled breast of greens and blues, ruby colored head, danced among purple salvia and blue delphinium blooms, drawing its long beak into the cups of nectar. The hummingbird hovered gracefully for mere moments before being propelled onward on wings made invisible by sheer speed. Another joined the first in a chase then a brief dual than back to the important work of gathering and pollenating.
"Wow. That's incredible." Amy and Ty were captivated, drawn away easily from their purpose. "In First Nation, hummingbird is called Sah Sen. It signifies joy, peace, affection, love and healing."
"That's a lot packed in that tiny body." He grinned at her with his crooked smile, a glisten in his eye. She missed seeing that.
As the hummingbird flew away, Amy felt calm, ready to talk. She inhaled, exhaled heavily, turned to face him, took his hand. "Ty. I have loved you almost from the moment we met. I still love you. Always will. You will always be in my heart, in my soul."
"Oh Amy.. I..don't know what to say.." he responded oddly.
"Shh. It's okay. Please just listen. Let me say this. Please."
He nodded.
"I would not be me without you. After mom died, you were there to catch me. You supported me, encouraged me, picked me up, protected me. Thank you." She swallowed. "You transformed me from a girl into a woman." Then she smiled shyly, "In more ways than one."
He tenderly squeezed her hand.
"Ty. You were my first. And, you are my only. I hope you believe that."
He sighed.
She frowned faintly, sighed. "Hindsight, they say is twenty-twenty. But, no matter how many times I try, I can't figure out the precise moment when we were no longer on the same path. It might have been when I started working for Ahmed, after my accident or when we found the ranch. I don't know."
"Again, looking back, I do believe that in the weeks leading up to going on tour, we were on separate but parallel paths. We weren't us any more."
"What do you mean?"
"We didn't work as a single unit, team. We began to make decisions independently, to keep secrets from each other, to stop listening, to be dishonest, to be focused on money for the ranch. We hurt each other. Because our disagreements weren't truly resolved, things just festered, resentment grew, widening the gulf between us."
He exhaled loudly. "It wasn't completely like that."
"Ty. The Charger thing really upset me. I reacted, took the job with Ahmed without discussing it with you. Charger won the race, yes, but you and I didn't win. Nothing was resolved between us."
"Amy. I was trying to make money for the ranch." He said.
"I know. You had the best of intentions. We both did. But we probably knew the other would not agree. That's why we kept secrets."
"I am sorry."
"Me too."
She smiled, grabbed his hand. "Ty. I wasn't just us. Other people complicated things further. Everyone seemed to weigh in. Caleb, Ahmed, my dad, Lou, even grandpa, everyone had an opinion, got involved. They sowed seeds of doubt, in ourselves, in our relationship, in our success, in our future. Don't get me wrong, we were to blame. I was to blame. But, they didn't help."
"By the time I left for Europe, I was so excited. The opportunity of a lifetime to be head trainer at the World Equestrian Games in Europe. The challenge, adventure, the travel, and yes, the money."
"I didn't consider how the tour would affect us, change me, change you, perpetuate our separate paths."
"Once I got there, I felt myself separating from Hudson, everyone so I could do my job. I was just so homesick. But I realized that I needed to get away. It forced me to grow and change. Find my voice." Her eyes were filled with tears, her lip was quivering.
"You needed to get away from me too?"
She frowned, slowly nodded. "Ty. Just like when you went on your road trip, I needed to go away. To think, to get things squared in my head, in my heart." Tears were running down her face. "I am so sorry Ty."
His face was blank, hurt filled his eyes, he could not look at her. Spartan stomped the ground, shook his head, snorted causing Ty to look up. Amy pulled a book from the leather saddle bag, handed it to him.
"What's this?"
"My journal that I wrote starting the first day I agreed to go on tour."
"Why give it to me? I don't want it."
"Ty. Please read it. Know that every day I wrote about the tour, the horses, of course. But also the things I did, saw, felt. I wrote about you. A lot."
"Amy. I really don't want to read it."
"I understand. I do. But know I want you to read it first, to know the truth as I lived it."
"First?"
"Yes. It will be evidence in the case against Ahmed." She sighed. "Read it or not Ty, it's your choice. But, RCMP is going to want it tomorrow or the following day at the latest."
"Oh."
"Um. Parts may become public."
"Then I won't give it to them."
"Ty. No one believes me. You don't. My family doesn't. Others are going to speak for me, I am afraid. That journal is my truth. Please promise me that you'll give it to them."
She put on a brave face, straightened her shoulders. "Please."
"I promise."
"Thank you."
"You don't want it back?" He asked.
"I lived it. I don't need to relive it. And, it will stay with me for the rest of my days. The good and bad."
She untied Spartan's reins, swung into his saddle, smooth, graceful. "Will you tell Mrs. Bell good bye for me?"
He nodded.
She leaned down, touched his face. "I hope some day you will understand and forgive me." She turned turned Spartan, rode away without looking back.
Everything she said was not a surprise. Except that when she left, he thought they were in good terms, that had resolved their issues. And, now her journal. He walked to the porch, sat down next to Mrs. Bell.
"Did you listen?"
He nodded, he handed her the journal.
She looked at the cover, the first couple of pages. "Amy's journal? You plan to read it, yes?"
"No."
"So you didn't listen." She grabbed his hand. "You know. It's the only way you'll ever be able to understand, forgive and move forward."
She looked tenderly at him while he looked straight ahead, stoned faced. A single tear traveled down his cheek, into the crease of his nose, across his lip then fell to its death. He closed his eyes.
"Ty. Come with me." He followed her into the house, into the guest bedroom. "You need to lay down, you are exhausted. When you wake, take a shower and we'll have dinner. I will put some things in the bath for you."
He just nodded, sat down on the edge of the bed, took his boots off. She closed the door behind her, he striped to his underwear, got under the covers, fell into a heavy, deep, dreamless sleep.
Not long after they crossed Mrs. Bell's property line, Matt and Sky joined them in a slow canter back to Heartland.
"Hey."
"Hey. Find out anything?"
Yes. Adela Safar is in France."
"Okay. That's good. I guess."
"You've got to give me more."
"I know. I think I need a lawyer first. Maybe an international one too."
"Amy?"
"Maybe tomorrow or the following day."
"Amy. Remember. You have only a few more days of protection."
"I know."
"If you give us something, maybe we can extend it."
"Are the orders in place?"
"Good. That's something."
Spartan halted to a stop, just a few feet from the barn. With a single smooth motion, Amy dismounted from his saddle, grabbed his reins, led him inside. Georgie was saddling Phoenix for a ride.
"Hey Georgie!"
"Hey Amy."
"Going for a ride?"
"Yeah. Um. Cassidy tells me that you are coaching her and Sally Ride."
"Yeah."
"Um. Can you coach me too?"
"I can't right now Georgie, I really am trying to rebuild my business. But, maybe in the future. Ask Lou if she can get you a temporary coach."
"I did. She says we can't afford both trick and a jumping coach."
Amy nodded. "Understand. Maybe you should just pick one sport Georgie, for now."
She groused. "Fine." Then under her breath she added, "I can find a better coach than you any day." As she led Phoenix out of the barn.
For the first time, in a while, she had dinner, thankfully uneventful and calm, with the family at the ranch. Her dad wasn't there to stir the pot.
After helping with the dishes, Amy took a shower and retrieved a few more things from her room. At 8, she started night check, hoping to see Ty. When he didn't show, she wasn't surprised so she did both of their chores.
Finished with her work, she was in the loft making phone calls, when she received a text from Scott.
"Amy. RBG has been rejected by her mom. Could you take her?"
"Yes."
"Good. I will be there in 15."
"K"
Amy met Scott outside the barn door. "Hey Amy."
"Hey Scott. Thanks for bringing her." He handed her a box, full of towels, deep inside she hear a tiny cry, almost a chirp.
"Harry said that she kept going on blind adventures, didn't nurse, then Gem seemed to give up on her." He frowned. "I checked her out. She seems fine. A little skinny, maybe."
"Come into the office. Tell me what to do." Scot carted a box of supplies into the office.
Amy found Ruth nestled in the towels, tiny, eyes still shut tight, her fur mostly white with black ears and patches, a pink nose and toes. Gently picked her up, brought her close for a good look. She whispered. "Ruthie, you are a fine looking pup, so precious and sweet." She kissed the pup's nose.
"I hear that you went on a few too many blind adventures, huh? Your birth mama didn't take kindly to that, huh?" She kissed the pup's head. "No worries. You are home now. This mama is gonna love you and take care of you, no matter what."
Scott smiled. "Okay Amy. The next few weeks will be critical. You'll need to bottle feed her every 3 to 4 hours, keep her warm, help her eliminate waste. By 3 or 4 weeks, she be able to do some things herself." He smiled. "Congratulations. You are a new mom."
"Oh Scott. She's the cutest thing ever. I promise I will take care of her."
Over the next 45 minutes, he showed her how to take care of Ruth, from feeding, to eliminating, to cleaning. "Touch her often. Mama dogs lick, clean, nuzzle their pups a lot. Do the same."
"Okay. I will give her lots of kisses. Probably won't lick her!" She giggled, then kissed her several times on her head.
By 10, Amy and Ruth were sound asleep, with the alarm set for 1am.
Hey Everyone. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Tell me what you think, send a review, please.
Be safe, stay healthy.
SBR