Having worked with animals for as long as he had, it was only natural that Holden would begin to pick out similarities between the horses in his stables and the people in his life.
Horses were just as individual as humans; with their own needs, wants and behaviours. And over the years Holden's learned ability to read the innate psychological state of his horses gradually began to translate over to his everyday interaction with people.
There was one particular horse, long departed, that Holden was starkly reminded of on that warm summer day four years ago, when Luke first brought Winston Mayer and his son Noah over to the farmhouse for lunch.
…
The three-year old stallion, Clandestine, first arrived at the farm because nobody else wanted him. Holden was seventeen and already legendary among trainers for the handle he had on horses, even troublesome ones.
Horses were herd animals, naturally fearful and on the lookout for danger; constantly in search of leadership. Holden's gift was the ability to see the world from the horse's point of view and in so doing become the animal's trusted 'alpha'.
Which was the reason why Snyder farm, as well as being one of the top stud farms in Illinois, had also become somewhat of a sanctuary for abandoned thoroughbreds.
When Bob Lipton from one state over called to say he had a strange and difficult case and would Holden like to have him, Holden didn't hesitate. He'd broken in some of the most stubborn horses in existence; horses other trainers had long given up on. There was hope for every beast as far as Holden was concerned. You just had to find each animal's individual quirk.
Clandestine, when he was first guided from the horse box and out into the yard, was not at all what Holden expected. He was beautiful; all black satin coat over strong muscled flanks. Holden couldn't stop staring at him. Clandestine simply stood there under Holden's gaze, twitching an ear and slapping his tail; good hindquarters, powerful thighs and wide flank. Unfathomably blue eyes regarded Holden cautiously, but with a respect not common in the horses Holden was used to.
Holden raised his hand and smoothed it down the animal's lean neck, surprised when beast leaned into the touch.
"Where'd he come from?" Holden asked.
"Found 'im." Lipton replied, "All alone, far up in the hills. Got himself caught up in some barbed wire."
At that extra slice of information Holden dropped his gaze and, sure enough, old scars ran in thin vertical lines up two of the animal's legs.
"Well," Holden said; one hand still flat against the horse's belly; "Except for a few visible scars I don't see the problem? This horse seems fine to me."
The old man smiled, chewing on a wad of tobacco, "Yip, 'til you try riding 'im! That horse will buck you clean off… mark my words! That horse don't trust nothing and nobody!"
Holden's hand ran back up the neck and over the snout, carefully assessing Clandestine's reaction to it. He stared the horse right in the eyes and saw it then. This black had other scars too. Holden could tell. Scars that ran far deeper and couldn't be seen by the naked eye.
"He wants too." Holden whispered.
"How ya know?"
Holden smiled, "He's letting me touch him. He wouldn't do that if he was completely wild. Seems to me he wants to share… just doesn't know how."
Lipton shook his head like Holden was crazy, "Yeah well, whatever! It's too much trouble for me anyhow. I aint got the time so… if you want him and he's yours."
Holden nodded his okay and Lipton muttered his goodbyes, closing the doors on the horsebox and climbing into this truck.
"Clandestine. Great name for you! You've certainly got yourself a couple of secrets now don'cha boy?" As Lipton drove away the horse snorted, blowing hot air in Holden's face. "Nothing to worry about. We'll take good care of you."
…
Holden was reminded of Clandestine from the very first moment he clutched and shook the nervous hand of the quiet and unassuming Noah Mayer; fearful blue eyes begging for understanding and acceptance.
And it didn't take long for Holden to warm to Noah. He immediately felt the boy's yearning for some kind of fatherly guidance that didn't include regular beatings and expectations usually reserved for soldiers.
He loved Noah's wonderment at and excitement for everything the farm and family had to offer. And Holden couldn't imagine any other person better suited for putting up with all of Luke's impulsive whims.
Noah was brilliant; bright and talented with the motivation needed to achieve. He was strong and serious, yet at the same time unbelievably sincere and funny when you least expected it.
But the quality Holden admired the most was that Noah was wise beyond his years. Just like Clandestine Noah thought things through; never acted brashly and above all, if you were lucky enough to earn the trust of this exceptionally cautious boy, was loyal to a fault.
And it was mostly for this reason, as Holden followed the young man back into the home the two boy's had created, and watched Noah's gentle interaction with the children, that he wanted to scream at Luke and slap him across the back of the head.
He would have done too, if Luke's latest escapade hadn't left the boy in a state of fragile fear.
"Luke's taking a long time getting ready isn't he?" Lily asked, appearing from the kitchen with a large plate of sandwiches for lunch.
Holden didn't miss the flash of sadness in Noah's face; blue eyes looking longingly toward the bedroom.
"I'll go and get him." Holden suggested, patting Noah on the shoulder.
He arrived at the closed bedroom door and first pressed his ear to it before knocking softly and calling, "Luke? It's Dad… can I come in?"
He heard a quick shuffling behind the door but there was no reply.
"Luke?"
"Um…" Came Luke's uncertain reaction, "Um… yeah… okay… yeah… sure…"
Holden opened the door to find his son standing as far away from it as was possible to get; back pressed against the built-in closet.
He was showered and dressed, his hair hanging damp over his eyes.
"Hi." Luke greeted.
"Hey." Holden replied, keeping his voice calm and happy, "How you doing son?"
Luke's eyes kept darting between Holden and the bathroom door, but froze when he noticed his father watching him intently.
"Lunch is ready. We've been waiting for you." As a test Holden took a few steps closer. He kept moving slowly forward; watching the panic quickly rise on this son's face with each step.
"Don't come any closer!" Luke blurted suddenly, holding out his hand in a stop motion. He shook his head, wide eyes brimming with tears.
"It's okay Luke."
"I know. I know it is… But… I'm so sorry Dad. It's just…"
They stared at each other for a moment. It was obvious to Holden that Luke was devastated by his own reaction but completely unable to control it.
Luke nibbled at his lower lip, watching Holden with weariness. Eventually he asked with guilt, "Can you get Noah?"
Holden smiled, trying to show Luke that things were okay, "Sure."
Luke nodded gratefully and Holden backed out of the room, scratching his head as he walked up the corridor to the sitting room where, by now, the family were gathered around the table laughing as they shared a few playful jokes.
Nicholas was already tucking into a bread roll with the relish that always made Holden smile, while Noah dished some rice on Mia's plate. Lily was in the process of pouring everybody a glass of lemonade and looked up as Holden entered.
Noah stood from the table immediately; asking Holden a silent question.
Holden shook his head and hated how Noah's shoulders sagged.
"Luke's asking for you." He said, trying to sound upbeat so as not to worry the kids or Lily, although her eyes were clouding over in suspicious worry.
"Okay." Noah replied softly, dropping the serving spoon and trying to smile; trying to show reassurance he obviously wasn't feeling.
He was just about to go when a tiny voice stopped him.
"Come Luke… come… come…" Nobody had noticed Mia slip silently from her chair and disappear toward the bedrooms.
She emerged now with a reluctant Luke in tow, their hands clasped together and Mia pulling Luke forcibly along.
Luke gulped as they reached the sitting room and Holden smiled at the sight of them.
"Mia… um…" Luke scratched the back of his head, "Mia says lunch is ready?"
"Lunch Luke!" Nicholas exclaimed with innocent excitement; grinning around a mouthful of roll.
Holden watched Noah now, stoic as always; fighting that internal battle so typical of him, approach Luke and kiss him gently. He smiled as he encouraged Luke to the table with one arm supportively held around Luke's shoulder.
…
Noah sat on the bed, softly tracing Luke's scars with his fingertips. Africa had left visible scars in two different places.
There were the three remaining thin lines crisscrossing Luke's shoulders; the worst one running all the way to the small of his back. These scars had flattened out a little, but the longer one was salt-white and clearly noticeable.
And then there were the rough and shapeless scars around his wrists where the rope had burned through this skin.
Noah grimaced as he reached for the tube of ointment from the bedside table; strong smell of menthol quickly filling the room as he unscrewed the tiny red cap.
Chris Hughes prescribed the cream while they were still in Oakdale. He said it would help diminish the scarring and Noah was impressed with how effectively it was working. Considering all things, Luke's skin was healing surprisingly well.
The hidden scars though, the emotional ones, remained; deepening with each passing day. And Luke wasn't the only one carrying these. Noah felt a sick sense of rage, fear and pain each time he attended the wounds; it sat heavy in his stomach like a cold hard rock.
Finished applying the cream he wiped his hands on a small towel and tossed it to the bottom of the bed. Leaning over he disturbed the hair at the base of Luke's neck so that he could find a patch of skin and kiss him there. Luke's body shivered under his touch and Noah heard him sniff.
"Don't worry baby." Noah whispered, turning off the nightlight and crawling into the bed beside him, "We'll work it out like we always do."
"I'm being so unfair to you Noah…"
"It's okay…"
"No it's not!" Luke cupped Noah's cheek and sighed. "I hate being this way… doing this to you…"
Noah shushed him, "Hey, you did a brave thing today right? You felt an attack coming on but you faced it and you came to lunch."
"But that's my family Noah! I get why I'd fear the outside… but my own parents? What's with that?"
"Look… for a week it's just been us and… and you haven't been outside or seen anybody else since the airport. You were just a little spooked… that's all…"
"But…"
Noah placed a finger on Luke's lips, "But you got over it. And that's the important thing."
Luke sighed deeply and burrowed closer to Noah. Noah kissed the top of his head and closed his eyes; hoping sleep would come.
"Noah?"
"Hmm hmm?"
"You will talk to me right? If… if you're struggling… I mean… I know Dad's here so you can talk to him… but… I…"
Noah shifted uncomfortably in the bed. He was trying not to think about the week to come. His plan was to avoid all newspapers and television reports. Besides, he was over it. He'd pushed what happened far down inside and gotten on with his life. He wasn't about to let the approaching sentencing dredge it all back up again. And he certainly didn't want Holden or anybody else finding out.
"It's always you taking care of me." Luke was saying, "It's always been that way! You never… you never let me take care of you too... and… and I'd really like it if you'd come talk to me instead of Dad if you need to. I can handle it. I promise."
Noah kissed Luke's temple, "I know you can. But I'm gonna be fine. And I definitely don't want to talk to Dad about this. I don't want them to know Luke. Ever…"
Luke nodded, "I know... I just… You and Dad have gotten really close so… I thought you might…"
Noah lowered himself in the bed so he could look Luke in the eye, "Luke, I'm fine. Really."
Luke nodded, but something was obviously still bothering him.
"What is it?" Noah asked.
Luke swallowed, "I wanted to go."
Noah squeezed his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I know you did."
"One of us…"
"Luke…"
"One of us needs to go."
Noah shook his head.
"Otherwise he's going to think he beat us! And I won't have that! I won't!"
Noah gripped Luke's shoulder tightly, eye to eye, "Then you go."
He watched the internal tussle in Luke's eyes.
"You can do it." Noah told him.
Luke turned flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. He banged his arms against the mattress in frustration, "Shit! I hate this!"
Noah reached over and squeezed Luke's hand to calm him.
"Sorry." Luke whispered.
Noah smiled and rolled over the top of him, "What for? Being passionate? I love that you're so passionate!"
"Even when it lands us both in Africa?"
"Except those times."
Luke smiled, "You really are amazing… I'm so lucky."
"Why?" Noah asked with a glint in his eye, "Because no other man would put up with you?
"Hey!" Luke laughed. "I'll forgive you for saying that because you're probably right!"
Noah pressed his forehead into Luke's, "I'm just relieved to have you home. And tomorrow is Nicky's birthday."
Luke grinned, "Yeah."
"So let's just concentrate on having a little fun tomorrow. God knows we could both use a day off from it all!"
"Okay." Luke whispered, lifting his head from the pillow to steal a soft kiss from Noah's lips.
They enjoyed a long moment of simply staring at each other, Noah lightly stroking Luke's sideburns.
Eventually Noah dropped his head to Luke's chest and they held each other, legs all tangled above the sheets; it being far too hot for covers.