Thursday
Yesterday's picnic talk with Lou was cathartic, purging, the first step in healing a doubt that had consumed her, almost from the moment that she met him. She told Lou most everything, about the tour, the hard work, loneliness, taunts, triumphs, fears, about the celebration, the kiss, her refusal, about returning home, the adjustment, rejection, abandonment, profound sadness. The heartbreak. Lou listened to her, supported her, held her, rocked her, hushed her, then put her to bed, in the sleep place of her youth.
It was not a confession, not in the least, but explanation to her sister, her flesh and blood. It was a start. An exhausting start.
Crawling into the loft bed last night, she was spent, welcomed the sleep which came quickly. Refreshed, after a sound night, Amy woke early, ready to face the day.
Dressing quickly, not even brushing her teeth or hair, she opened the window and her notebook, sat down at the table with her breakfast and a cup of coffee.
Another blank page. As per her new routine muttered, "Okay Amy. One day at a time."
She wrote in no particular order: To Do List: morning chores, bank, phone, police, truck, trailer, Parsnip, Sally Ride, Summer, Mrs. Bell, night check.
Busy day. Good.
She descended the stairs quickly, barely touching the steps, to get to her chores, and almost plowed him over.
"Whoa there." Ty warned, catching her before she tripped.
"Hey. I didn't expect to see you here this morning." She said, after recovering her balance.
"Yeah well." He nodded. "Someone told me that I needed to take care of my horse. So."
"Imagine that. Who would have the audacity to call you on that?" She sparred, her eyes shot him a familiar look.
"This horsey girl who always thinks she's right." He shrugged, playful. "She's probably right this one time."
"A broken clock is right twice a day. I'm sure it was just dumb luck." He laughed, missing their banter.
"Hey, what happened to the coffee maker?" He paused, realizing that he had already fallen back into their old familiar pattern. "Not that it's any of my business."
"I moved it to the loft. I have some brewed. Wanna cup?" She offered.
"That would be great." He lightened.
"Come upstairs."
"You sure?"
"Why not? I have nothing to hide." She wasn't sure why those words came out of her mouth. "It's just coffee." She recovered, motioned towards the steps.
Viewing the loft from the landing, it felt foreign, despite the years he dwelled there. The furniture was the same, in the same place, even the same quilt on the bed. He couldn't put his finger on it, except that it no longer was his space, no longer held him. Clearly. Instead, the space was hers, maybe the new her, sparse, uncluttered, unencumbered, clean, orderly. So dramatically different from her bedroom in the house, with its warmth, whimsy, innocence, adorned with memories, family, and him.
Suddenly, he felt like he was intruding. "I can drink it downstairs."
"Don't be silly." She said as she poured them each a cup, then carried them to the table at the open window.
Taking a chair, she motioned to him to follow. Seated, they drank their coffee, in silence, gazing out at the pretty morning, inhaling the fresh air, taking in the ranch, their home, the thing that bound them. Neither wanted to break the fragile peace, open any wounds, start any fights. So they just sat at the same table, in each other's presence, in close proximity but quite distant, separate. An invisible boundary drawn between them, no man's land full of unsaid, unheard words.
Taking a swig from his cup, he stole a look at her, as she gazed out the window. She was beautiful, as always, even with her hair uncombed, a few wasps falling over her left eye, even a little drool dried on the corner of her mouth. She was wearing what she wore last night, a pair of jeans, a light pink tank, light blue plaid shirt. For a moment, he saw the girl he knew, loved. He wanted to reach out, move the strands of hair behind her ear, touch her. But, it wasn't his place any more.
Upending his cup, finishing his last gulp, he said. "Thanks. That hit the spot." He stood. "Where should I put my cup?"
"Here. I'll take it. I have a little system for dirty cups." She picked up her and his cup, carried them to her makeshift wash stand, back turned as she began to work quietly, thinking.
"Thanks." He muttered as he left the loft, returning to his horse.
Cups cleaned and stacked, Amy brushed her teeth, washed her face, then brushed her hair. "Okay." she said out loud, satisfied, then headed downstairs.
They finished their morning work quickly, silently, the horses fed, watered and some turned out, not Spartan. She began to saddle him, when he broke the silence.
"Going for a ride?" He wondered aloud.
"Yeah." She said ending the conversation, continuing to tighten, adjust the straps. Part of her wanted to invite him, but a bigger part wanted to go alone.
Going into the office, she returned with a small paper bag, packed it in the saddle bags. He knew her, she was going somewhere that she shouldn't. Maybe to see Ahmed. She said he was still in town.
She looked at him, read the concern creasing his brow, slight downturn of the corners of his lips. She softened. "No need to worry. Okay?"
"No worry here." He quipped, though he wanted to say he couldn't help but worry. He went back to his work.
"Um. How's your side? Better?" She ventured, voiced her own worry.
"Yeah. It's nothing." He responded without looking at her.
She was concerned, fairly certain, his injuries were her fault, Ahmed's doing, his retribution. She also knew Ty would not tell her, would not want to worry her.
"Be careful." She whispered, then added. "Please."
He shot back, "You should take your own advice." Then he softened, added, "Please." Still sounding patronizing, insincere.
Ty looked at her, she at him. Their gaze was full of sadness, hurt, a bit of regret. Neither was ready to share. Everything was off, awkward. They couldn't even express simple concern without their hurt getting in the way.
Breaking the look, Ty put up a wall, tried to act nonchalant, said, "Well, I've got to get. Things to do."
"Me too. Have a good day." She led Spartan out the barn door, swung easily into the saddle with one seamless move, then signaled to him. The two took off slowly, gaining speed, down the dirt drive, through the homeland gate. Ty just watched until he could no longer see her or Spartan. A twinge, a sigh. Then he headed to the house for a hot shower.
Per her plan, Amy arrived at Mrs. Bell's house, from the south, without encountering a soul, not her family, not RCMP, no one. She knew Heartland and the surrounding lands like the back of her hand, so she took the less traveled, more treacherous route. It was safer from people she figured, even if it was longer.
Although it was very early, Mrs. Bell was already tending to her vegetable garden, on her hands and knees, head sheltered by a wide brim straw hat. Sugarfoot stood faithfully by her, ready to assist, chewing on a clump of tender grass.
"Hello Mrs. Bell."
"Amy. Dear. What a surprise."
"I hope that I am not disturbing you."
"Heavens no. You are always welcomed here."
"Thank you. I meant to come by last night, but things didn't go as planned."
"They never do." The old lady grunted as she pulled on a weed with deep roots, falling back on her behind when it suddenly pulled loose. "Gotcha you sucker."
Amy smiled, sat down on the damp row between the zucchini and cucumber stands, next to her friend.
"So what brings you, Amy?"
"I brought Sugarfoot some more rice cakes."
"Well thank you, dear. Can't have enough rice cakes." She looked at her. "Is that all?"
Any smiled. "I made squash soup and salad yesterday."
"Well, tell me, did you improvise?"
"I did. I used squash instead of zucchini and added some cream, it made it rich and buttery."
"Sounds scrumptious."
"Everyone said it was good." She boasted, blushed, surprisingly proud of herself.
"What did you think?"
"I liked it. A lot." She looked up, saw Mrs. Bell smiling, proud of her pupil. "Thank you by the way."
"For what?"
"Taking the time to teach me." She smiled.
"We have to eat, might as well enjoy the process and the result."
She picked a couple cucumbers, added them to her basket lined already with squash, zucchini, and a few blooms. "Dear. Could you take the basket to the house?"
Amy nodded, then waited as Mrs. Bell hoisted herself up off the ground, using her small furry companion as a crutch. Together the three walked slowly to the house, stopping on the wide front porch for Mrs. Bell to catch her breath as she held on to the railing.
"Mrs. Bell. Rest a moment in the chair. I will get you a glass of water." Amy guided her to the wooden rocker, then started toward the screened door.
"Please add a squeeze of lemon. Tepid. No ice. Better for digestion."
"Okay." Amy smile, despite her concern for her friend.
Returning to the porch, she handed the glass to her friend, whose breathing and color had returned to normal. Relieved, Amy took a seat and sip of water. "What will you do with the zucchini blooms?"
"Well, I fry and eat them. Of course."
"Seriously? Sounds.. well..weird."
"Hmm. Shouldn't knock something until you try it." She raised her eyebrows at Amy. "My mother's best friend, Mavi, immigrated from Italy from a small town in northern part, near Verona. The land of rice and Romeo and Juliet." She had a far away look in her eye.
"Anyhow. Mavi made tomato wine and fried zucchini blooms. The wine wasn't my cup of tea, too sweet, but the male blooms are heavenly, delicate."
"Male blooms?"
"Yes. Male zucchini flowers have the largest and showiest blooms but they yield no zucchini. Their purpose is to pollenate the female blooms, which in turn produce the zucchini." She paused. "Some day I will make them for you."
"Then some day I will try them."
"Good girl." She continued. "Male blooms, female blooms. Everything, everyone has a purpose, a role, a gift. We don't have to do everything ourselves. We don't have to do it alone, you know." She patted Amy's hand, then held it for a moment.
"Sometimes alone is easier."
"Don't kid yourself." She leaned a little closer. "Alone is not easier. Or better."
She listened, reflected but did not respond. Finishing her water, she rose to take her glass into the kitchen.
"Amy. I made bear claws this morning. Used the June honey from the girls, it has a hint of dandelion. They are in the kitchen. Take a few with you." Amy nodded, smiled.
In the kitchen, she washed her glass, put it on the drain board. A sweet, maple scent waffled in the air from the claws. Her mouth watered as she wrapped two into a paper towel.
"Thank you for the bear claws they smell so good."
"You are welcome."
"I should go Mrs. Bell. I have a busy day." She kissed her soft cheek, grateful, sincere.
"Thank you for the visit, dear. I will see you tomorrow."
Amy just chuckled, nodded. "I will try."
After a short drink of fresh water, Spartan, not Amy, navigated back to Heartland by the same rough trail that brought them. She was lost in thought. Abruptly, he pulled up short at the edge of a stand of Jack pines, ears twitching, muscles tense, snapping her back to present.
"What is it Spartan?" She whispered, looking around, acquiring his concern. He did not answer, but his head held steady, pointed to the left, down the tree row. He took a step back instinctively, behind a shrubby branch, camouflaging them. She desperately strained her ears and eyes, trying to identify the friend or foe. Trying to remain quiet, hidden, though her heart was beating such that the entire world could hear her.
Then they both heard something. A dry branch snap, stones rolling down the rocky ridge, clip clop of hooves, then the neigh.
She spied him, perched on the saddle of a majestic chestnut horse. Dark cap, gray short sleeved shirt, dark trousers, shined brown boots, and a bulletproof vest clearly marked with POLICE.
"Officer Rodriguez?" She was relieved, at least momentarily.
"Yes. Ms. Fleming. It's me. Come on out."
She nudged Spartan forward, out of the pine's shadows, into the light of the trail. "Fancy meeting you here." She said happily.
"It wasn't that hard to track you down. How is Mrs. Bell?"
"Are you following me?" Stunned that she had no clue that she had been tailed.
"Better me than someone else Ms. Fleming." He shook his head. "We got word that you left Heartland by horse, just wanted to be sure you were safe."
"Well thank you. But as you can see, I am perfectly fine." She planned to give Ty a piece of her mind when got back to Heartland.
"Yes. This time."
"You'll be happy to know that I am headed back to Heartland."
"Ms. Fleming. A private jet owned Ahmed Al Saeed flew out of Calgary to Antwerp this morning."
"So Syed was telling the truth about them leaving today." She relieved that she could trust him, relieved that they were gone.
"Mr. Syed Kalb and the Prince were not on the passenger list."
"Oh." Suddenly no longer relieved. "Where are they?"
"We are investigating. We have some solid leads."
"You lost them?" When he didn't respond, she had her answer. She swallowed hard. "Officer Rodriquez. The thing is you really don't have to worry about me. They won't hurt me. But there are others who are in great danger."
"Mr. Borden?"
She nodded.
"Yes. RCMP is well aware of Mr. Borden's situation including the assault, threats and illegal activity. Another RCMP unit is monitoring that situation. He is safe."
She gasped, swallowed hard, her chest tightened. Ty's situation was worse than she imagined. She was the cause. "Oh my god. Oh Ty." She muttered.
"Ms. Fleming. I promise you. He is safe. RCMP is close to an arrest of the perpetrators."
"Oh thank you. I need to go back to Heartland now." He nodded, together they rode to the ranch.
Arriving Heartland, she broke from Officer Rodriguez, rode Spartan right up to the split rail fence surrounding the ranch house, dismounted, threw his reins around top rung, ran into the house. She called for her grandfather, Lou, Georgie, Ty, anyone. The house was empty, silent.
With nothing else to do, she did what she always did, she went to the barn, submersed herself in work. With Spartan, untacked, groomed, stabled, she turned her attention to Parsnip, leading her into the round arena. Amy decided on a traditional join-up given that her low tech video yielded no tangible conclusions. Despite her efforts, the join-up didn't go as planned, taking well over an hour for the horse to even look in her direction. She gave up, chalked up the dismal failure to her unfocused mind, then sent her out with the others in the big field.
Sally Ride, on the other hand, was ready, willing, greeting her as she neared her stall, nuzzling her hand as though she held apples and carrots. Following Amy like a shadow to the jump arena, she executed the first free jump run smooth and graceful.
A silver Jeep pulled up to the house, Georgie hopped out, waved good bye to her departing ride, then walked to the arena. She climbed the rail, sitting on the top rung, watching Sally Ride jump.
"What are you doing Georgie?"
"Watching."
"Thought you wanted to help?"
She squealed, jumped down into the arena, ran to join Amy.
"Okay Georgie. As she jumps each fence, I want you to note her movement, the position of her legs, feet, which foot she leads with and lands with, the line of her head, back and hind. Look to see if she seems confident or hesitant, bold or reserved."
"Okay. I'll try."
The next run was equally impressive, Sally Ride sailed each of the four jumps, consistently, masterfully, perfect form. They discussed her form, position, posture, her confidence.
After the second run, "Did you see that?" Georgie ran to Amy.
"Yeah. She was incredible. She loves this." She nodded her head. "She knows exactly what to do. I'd bet last owner was giving her mixed signals."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Enter her in a free jump competition. Let's see what's on the schedule for the weekend. She's ready."
"Can I go too?"
"Sure. Why not? I could use the help." She paused. "This time we best get your mom's approval first."
"No kidding...hey. Wait. Are we taking that that trailer?" Georgie made a face, crossed her eyes.
"Are you making fun of my new trailer?" Amy raised her eyebrows.
"No no. I love pink!" Georgie changed her tune, smiling a fake smile.
"Barbie Pink." Amy started laughing, rolled eyes.
Turning out Sally Ride, Amy headed into the ranch house to a shower. Barely in the front door, her grandfather called to her from the kitchen.
"Amy. Have a seat with me." Not a much of a request, more of a command.
She did as instructed, kissing his temple before sitting. "Hey Grandpa."
"Sleep well?" He asked.
"Well enough." She paused. "You?"
"Not really."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Amy. I am worried about you and this prince fellow." He looked at her over his readers.
"I know Grandpa."
"So imagine how disappointed I was to learn that you rode to Mrs. Bell's. This morning. Alone. And, you didn't even bother to tell anyone."
"Did Ty tell you?"
"Ty? No. RCMP."
"Oh. Sorry Grandpa."
"Amy. I know you are going through some things. And you want to be independent and all. But you need to tell us where you are going."
"Grandpa."
"Look Amy. You don't need my permission, or anyone's. You are old enough to make decisions for yourself. Just let us where you are going." He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Okay. I will."
He patted her hand. "Good. I don't want worry to be the death of me." He frowned. "Though it probably will be."
She decided to reach out an olive branch. "Grandpa. Want to join me this afternoon? I have to go to town."
"Is lunch included?"
"Sure. We can eat at Maggie's."
"Great. I'm starved. What's on your agenda?"
"Lots. New phone, police station, bank, tires for my truck and trailer."
"Saw the white truck and purple trailer. They yours?"
"Yep. They are mine. Or will be as soon as I pay for them today." She smile. "By the way, the trailer is Barbie Pink, not purple."
"Who knew. Barbie Pink, Huh?" He paused, then added "You have that kind of money?"
"Yes, Grandpa. I have that kind of money. I worked hard. I earned it." She said, a bit peeved.
"Oh. I didn't mean anything by it."
"Grandpa." She stopped, took a deep breath. "I have to take my shower. Can you be ready to go in 30 minutes?"
"I'm ready now."
"Okay then I will hurry."
While new tires were being installed on the truck and trailer, Jack and Amy grabbed a corner table at Maggie's, ordered lunch, he had the Rancher's Special, she the vegetarian chili.
After getting their food, Jack asked. "So, Amy. When are you going to move back into the house, into your bedroom?"
"I'd like to stay in the loft a while longer."
"Oh?"
"I still have a lot to sort out." She bit her lip.
He sighed, but said. "If that's what you want."
"It is. Thank you." She scrunched her nose. "Grandpa. Um. I am worried about Ty. You know. He hit Ahmed."
"Yes. He did. He was upset."
"Regardless. He should not have hit him." She took a long drink of water, continued. "Do you think he can stay at the house until all this blows over?"
"Like on the couch?"
"Or my bedroom? I am not using it. You know it would be just temporary."
"Well. The trailer doesn't have any water right now."
"Thank you grandpa." She kissed his forehead. "You don't have to tell him it was my idea. Okay?"
He smiled, the irony of it, nodded. "He'll probably say No. But I will ask."
Just then Val Stanton walked up, greeted them both. Jack asked her to join them, which she did.
While Jack and Val caught up, Amy did her errands, first to get a new phone. They were having a special buy one get one free, so she got six phones to replace those in the police evidence room. Armed with a bag of phones, she went to the police station. She asked to see Jeff Anderson.
"Hey Ms. Fleming."
"Amy. Please." She continued. "How are you Mr. Anderson?"
"Jeff. Please." He smiled. "Would you like for me to transfer your contacts and pictures to your new phone?"
"Are you still willing?"
"Of course. Do you have your new phone?"
"Yes. But I also have a new one for everyone whose phone is in your evidence room." She knew it was a lot to ask. "Could you work on all of them? Please?" She thought about giving him her puppy eyes, impish smile, but thought better if it.
"Sure. We have a new whiz kid in training." He looked at his watch. "But it will take a couple of hours."
"Great. Thank you. I will be back later." She smiled, leaving the bag of phones with him.
Next she went to the bank for a cashier's check for the truck, then she picked up the truck and trailer, drove to Maggie's. As she was parking, she ran into Marnie and Jerry Gordon.
"Wow Amy. Is that Barbie Pink?"
"You called it Marnie!" Amy laughed as they hugged.
"I had the Equestrian Barbie with her horse and trailer as a kid. Loved that thing!" She paused.
Jerry asked, "Hey Amy. Is that yours? It doesn't look like something Heartland would have."
Amy laughed. "Definitely not Heartland material. It's mine, think of it as an Amy Fleming breakout." She laughed. "Actually I was going to have it repainted, but the color is growing on me. Everyone notices it."
"It's really great color for successful marketing. It stands out." He scratched his chin. "Hmmm."
"Jerry. What's going through your mind?" Marnie asked, then turned to Amy. "He has the best marketing ideas."
"Yeah. Let's hear, Jerry." Amy said.
"That trailer needs an Amy Fleming logo, maybe in black, a little reminiscent of Heartland but new, fresh. One on each side, one or two on the back."
"Could you do that?"
"Yes, of course. It's a decal.
"By Saturday morning?"
"Oh. Very tight schedule. But I could try. Do you need business cards too?"
"Yes, I probably don't need those by Saturday though." She smiled. "Maybe stationary too?"
"Then yes, well if Marnie is okay that I skip dinner with her parents." He looked at his wife hopefully, then grinned.
"Oh well. Of course." Then she smiled at Amy. "He really is so very talented Amy."
"No doubt!" She loved how Marnie supported Jerry. "Great. Thank you both. I have a new phone number. Send me the estimate. I can come by tomorrow and look at your drawings." They shook hands like business associates, laughed, then hugged.
On the trip home from Setters Ranch, Amy insisted that Jack drive, test out her new truck.
"So Grandpa. What do you think?
"It's very nice Amy. Tires ride smooth. You got a heck of a deal too."
"Yeah."
"I am proud of you."
"You know. I'm proud of me too." Grinning.
Then Amy asked him about Summer Flower.
"Oh. I haven't heard that name in years. She was a friend of your mother's."
"I am having dinner with her tonight."
"You don't say. How did that happen?"
"Mom wrote about her in her journal. Guess they were friends in high school. Anyhow, I found her old journal in the office behind some old papers on the bookshelf."
"Okay."
"I read it. Mom wrote such nice things about her, loving really. How she was strong, brave, independent, beautiful. I wanted to meet her, give her a copy of those pages. I wanted her to know how much mom valued her friendship."
"It was a long time ago. She may not care to know or remember."
"I would want to know."
"Ah. Amy. Summer had a tough childhood. A tragic one really. Lots of family issues. High school wasn't easy either. She may not want to reminisce."
"Mom seemed to think she walked on water."
"If I recall correctly. She was smart, good grades. Started out as your mom's tutor in Math."
"Guess I have that in common with mom. Bad at math."
Jack nodded. "You and your mother just cared more about horses than studying."
"Yeah. That too." Amy smiled.
"She was a level headed young woman. She had to make some very grown up decisions at a young age." Jack recalled.
"Oh?"
"I don't know all the details. Just know that it was difficult. She spent a lot of time at Heartland."
"Hmm. I met in her office in Calgary. Gave her copies of some of mom's journal. Then she called me a couple days later. To have dinner."
"In Calgary?"
"No. Okotoks."
"Amy?" He gave her a look of concern, but not quite disapproval.
"I know. But, at least I am telling you. Plus, I will have my new phone with me." She smiled. "You all will."
"What did you do?"
"You'll have to wait." For once she enjoyed a surprise.
The Milk and Honey restaurant was nestled on the first floor and wrap around porch of a tiny 1890 gingerbread house, surrounded by hundreds of rolling acres of dairy cow pastures, barns and milking facilities and bee hives as far as the eye could see. For generations, the Meyer family lived in the house and ran the farm. Recently, the house was converted to a farm to table restaurant that attracted foodies from across Alberta.
Arriving at the restaurant a few minutes early, Amy was led by the hostess to a small, two top table on the front porch. A gentle breeze blew, slightly ruffling the table cloth, her hair, skirt while she waited for Summer to arrive. She was mesmerized by the calming view, interspersed with a moo of a cow, clang of a bell, quiet talking around her.
"Amy." Summer suddenly appeared next to her. She looked relaxed, approachable, very different from their first meeting. Her dark hair was loose, falling around her shoulders. She wore jeans, a casual top and boots.
"Hello Summer...please sit with me." Pulling out a chair out for her.
"Hello Amy. Thank you for meeting me." She smiled.
"I was excited to get your call."
"Good. Let's get to know each other. Shall we?"
Amy simply said, "Yes." But what she really wanted to hear about was her mom, her high school years, her mysterious friend.
Before the conversation started, the young waitress came table side, poured water and took their order, both the lamb chop special.
"Tell me about yourself Amy."
"Let's see. My mom is my hero, my inspiration. Growing up, watching her rescue, rehab, and rehome horses, I always thought she was special. She had a gift."
"Tell me about you."
"Okay. I am 22 years old. Like my mom, I rescue, rehab and rehome horses that no one wants. But, unlike my mom, I also train high end horses and their riders in various disciplines. Most recently I was the head trainer for an Arabian team for the World Equestrian Games in Europe. That team went on to win the show jumping championship. Occasionally, I am the actual rider in a competition or race."
"Wow. Quite impressive."
"Thank you."
"The diversity must make it difficult to focus."
"For me, the diversity challenges me, gives me an opportunity to learn something new, and keeps things fresh and interesting. Plus, every horse, like every human, should be given the opportunity to excel, to be loved, to be happy."
"Sounds rewarding."
"It is. That's what I was born to do."
"So, do you have siblings?"
"I have one sister, Lou who is ten years older. And, a half brother, Shane, who is seven years younger."
"Half brother?"
"Yes. My parents split was I was five. Shane is my dad's son." She sighed. "As I told you, my mom died with I was 15, seven years ago."
Summer nodded.
"Tell me about you." Asked Amy.
"I am 53 years old, just like your mom. I was born into Missanabie Cree First Nation. I have one brother, Koe, who is two years older. My parents are still married after 56 years. I am an associate dean of women studies at the University of Calgary focusing on Canada's aborigine population. I have a PhD in Sociology.
"So you teach?"
"Yes. Teach, research, publish."
"I only granulated from high school. I do not have a college degree."
"Sounds like you are successful. Doesn't sound like you don't need one."
"It might give me more authority or respect."
"Has any of your clients ever asked you where you got your college degree?"
"No."
"There you go."
Surprisingly, the getting-to-know-you conversation between the two women flowed naturally, each asking and answering questions without pause or embarrassment. Summer specifically steered the conversation away from Marion, about their friendship, her high school days. She wanted to get to know Amy first and vice-versa.
For Amy, the conversation allowed her to define herself in her terms, without preconditions, preconceived notions, without judgement. But, the same was true for Summer. So after two hours of stimulating conversation, the two parted with hugs, vowing to meet up again soon.
By the time she got back to Heartland, it was after dark. The barn was dimly light, the horses settled, and quiet prevailed, Amy started night check, her favorite time with the horses.
"Hey." He entered the barn, went straight to Harley's stall
"Hey. You're here late."
"Yeah. I can't convince Jack to do night check for me." He smirked.
"Yeah. Once he's had dinner, it's hard to get him out of the house."
"Yeah. He's stubborn like that."
Each focused on their work, tending to their horses's needs, and their own, as the fed, watered, petted their horse.
"Um. Thank you for the new phone." He ventured, adding. "You didn't have to."
She shrugged her shoulder. "It was a good deal. Buy one, get one free. I couldn't pass up the bargain."
"That would be hard to pass up." He conceded.
"Plus. It was kinda my fault that everyone's phones got locked in the evidence room." She revealed her real reason for the new phones.
"Hardly. Ahmed did that, not you." Ty defended her.
She appreciated his words, but it didn't relieve her sense of guilt. If she hadn't worked with him, here or in Europe, they wouldn't be where they were now. Watched, trailed, invaded, broken.
A sigh was all she could offer.
Neither hurried to finish their work, it seemed, or to end their interaction, no matter how awkward, clunky.
"How was your day?" He asked to keep the conversation going, but he could have just as easily asked about the weather.
"Good. Yours?" Still guarded in her response.
"Ditto."
"How's your side?"
"Fine...how was your morning ride?"
Then she offered more. "Good. I visited with Mrs. Bell this morning."
"How is she?"
"Same. Getting older. I worry about her."
"I should go visit her."
"She would like that." She paused. "I have grown to really love my visits with her." She smiled.
"Oh? Do you do that a lot?"
"More so lately. Most days I guess."
"What do you talk about? Herbs?"
"Funny...okay, yes. But, she also teaches me other things, tells me things, that always seem to have a bigger meaning."
"Like?"
"Today was about zucchini blooms." She laughed.
"Really? Zucchini blooms?" He responded with a smile.
"Yeah. She fries them and eats them."
"Weird. Never heard of that."
"Me neither." She replied. "But, get this. She only eats the male ones."
"Just the male ones?" He made a funny face.
She laughed. "Only because they don't produce a zucchini."
"I didn't know that."
"Me neither. Apparently, they pollenate the female bloom which produces the zucchini."
"Sounds like biology class."
"Probably one of the many classes that I slept through." She added. He laughed.
"Bigger meaning?"
"Yeah. She says that we don't have to do everything ourselves. We don't have to do it alone."
"Hmm."
"Lately I have felt the need to do it alone though." She said wistfully, then sighed, frowned.
"Does that make you happy?" He asked.
"Happy? I don't know. Self-sufficient is a better word."
He sighed, wasn't sure what that meant for him, for them. He continued petting Harley, combing his fingers through his mane.
He changed the subject. "Jack said that I could stay at the ranch house until the water is fixed at the trailer."
"That's good. Are you?"
"He said I could stay in your room."
"Makes sense. No one is using it."
"Doesn't it bother you?"
"No. Not at all. It's mostly clean." She offered.
"I don't know that I can..."
"Sure you can. It's just a room with a bed."
"Not to me."
"Would it make you feel better if I told you that I suggested it to Grandpa?"
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I worry about you, your safety."
"Oh. Don't worry about me."
"Can't help it." She said sincerely.
"I worry about you too." He said honestly.
Hope you enjoy this chapter. Love your reviews!
SBR