Once Upon a Groom

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He laughed. “Only you would ask something like that. I was down here last night. Tattoo and I struck up a conversation and we’re well along to becoming friends. So … any problem with me taking him out?”

“No.” She hesitated, then asked, “Why did you come down here last night?” When he gave her a studying look, she said, “Sorry, none of my business, I guess.”

“It was after dinner. You were discussing new recipes with Martha. Dad was on the phone with Clay’s father. I thought I’d take a look around. Everything’s been kept up well. I noticed the mares’ barn had a new roof.”

“Last year.”

“Are you still attracting clients from across the country who want cutting horses for competitions?”

“Yes.”

“And the boarders’ barn is full.”

“Always.”

Zack had to pass her to reach Tattoo’s stall. He was dressed in jeans, boots and a sheepskin jacket this morning.

“You couldn’t have brought that along,” she said gesturing to his coat.

“Nope. It was hanging in the closet in my old room. I’d forgotten about it. It was huge when Mom bought it for me. Now it fits.”

Jenny could almost see the memories in Zack’s eyes, some bittersweet, some warm and some painful. She wasn’t sure what to say.

“We can talk about her, Jen. All my memories of her have been limited to the photographs I took along and the videos I made. I have never had anyone to talk to about her. Do you know what I mean?”

“I do. I mean I talk to Dad about Mom when he’s around, which isn’t often, but I don’t really have anything of hers except the funny hat she used to wear to church. I took it from the bag Dad was giving to Goodwill after she died. I know things are just things, but they seem to mean a lot after someone’s gone. The pearl earrings your mom gave me for high school graduation are one of my prized possessions.”

“You wore them the night of the reunion.”

“You noticed?”

The quiet of the stables seemed to breed intimacy, and this morning was no different. This was the everyday barn, where favorite horses were lodged, where personal tack was kept, where the hayloft up above whispered about the kisses shared there when she and Zack were teenagers. And not only kisses. On that graduation night—

“I noticed,” he responded, and she didn’t know now if they were talking about earrings or so much more. This was dangerous territory for both of them. Especially for her. Since his return, her secret seemed to be on the tip of her tongue, ready to spill out. But there was no reason to tell him about her pregnancy and miscarriage … no reason to hurt him with something they couldn’t change. With him standing there, looking down at her, all brawny and handsome in the sheepskin jacket and jeans, she knew she needed some cool air to capture her equilibrium once again.

“Let’s saddle up,” she suggested a bit shakily.

Zack just gave her an imperceptible nod and moved away.

Ten minutes later they were on the trail. This time of year, the most impressive aspect of the landscape was the mountains in the distance—Moonshadow Mountain and beyond it, Feather Peak.

“Have you ridden to Horsethief Canyon lately?” Zack asked.

Horsethief Canyon led up to Feather Peak. She and Zack had spent time there as teenagers, exploring, hiking, making out.

“No, not lately. Celeste and Clay have. They spent a honeymoon weekend there.”

“You were at their wedding?”

“In their wedding. It was beautiful. They exchanged vows in Clay’s backyard even though his parents probably would have preferred something more elaborate.”

“Clay was always good at standing up to his dad.”

“I think he and Mr. Sullivan have come to a new understanding since he and Celeste married.”

They rode along the fence line until it gave way to rockier terrain. Both horses snorted as if begging to be let loose. Jenny felt the same way. Riding side by side with Zack, she felt edgy, awkward, unlike herself.

“So how about that rough and tumble ride?” he asked with a grin that could always make her breath hitch.

She tossed him a smile over her shoulder and then took off.

She heard Tattoo’s hooves behind her steadily, easily keeping up, not trying to overtake her. She thought this might become a race, but Zack wasn’t racing. When she cast a glance back at him, he looked intense as he usually did, but also as if he was having a good time.

The morning cold reddened her cheeks, numbed her nose, cooled her breath, but she loved every exhilarating moment of it. Zack galloped past her at one point and she strove to overtake him again, but she couldn’t. He didn’t just keep riding ahead, however. At a grove of pines he reined in his horse and waited for her. She knew this stand of trees quite well. She and Zack had sought their shade and cool comfort that final spring, when everything just seemed to be beginning. His face was ruddy, too, now from the cold, his hair windblown, his sheepskin collar turned up against the breeze.

“This is magnificent country,” he said, almost to himself.

“I can’t imagine anywhere as beautiful as this.” The sky was already topaz-blue, devoid of clouds, hovering protectively over the landscape.

“Do you want to dismount for a few minutes? The trees will provide a buffer against the wind.”

Something about being on the ground within the barrier of trees where they’d once spent time seemed dangerous to Jenny. Yet she wasn’t going to be a coward about this. She’d just be very careful.

Zack tethered his horse to a low-slung branch and waited as she did the same. Then in the golden morning light, he found the old path covered with pine needles and dried leaves from the aspen in the not-too-far distance. There was a hushed quality within the grove that Jenny had always liked, that gave her a sense of peace.

Zack followed the path until they were deep inside the grove where sunlight and shadows dappled the ground.

“Soon this could be covered in snow,” she reminded him. “If we’ve had a snowfall, sometimes after the kids finish their lessons, we come out here and play. They bring their saucers and tubes, and it’s great fun.”

“What kids?” he asked with a curious look.

“I give riding lessons. I do it on a sliding scale and take a few pro-bono students who can’t afford to pay. They learn how to ride and groom, and just forget anything that’s troubling them.”

“Like you did.”

“Horses have many lessons to teach, but I give these children goals and they have a sense of accomplishment when they learn how to master riding. I’m hoping those skills will stay with them well into the future.”

Zack was standing beside a tall fir. She went still when she recognized it.

“What is it?” Zack asked, following her gaze. Then he saw the bark of the tree. Their names were carved there, deeply enough to have lasted all these years.

“I can’t believe the weather hasn’t worn them away.”

“Or a lightning strike,” Zack said nonchalantly. But she knew he was remembering the day he carved them there. They’d had exams at school that week and had come riding out here one day to let off steam, to forget about studying, to be together. She’d been so innocent. He’d been so noble. They’d kissed and made out, and she’d known he wanted her. Yet more than once, he’d insisted it wouldn’t be fair if they became really intimate because he’d be leaving.

“You carved our names there, so there would be something lasting of our friendship.” They would have had so much more that was lasting if she hadn’t had the miscarriage. Yet what would they have done? Even if she had told Zack, would she have joined him in California and regretted it?

“Not much is lasting, is it?” he asked rhetorically.

“Friendships last. We both have proof of that.”

“Maybe our high school friendships are the ones that matter most. I don’t have friends in L.A. like Clay and Dawson. Even though we don’t see each other often, we can pick up wherever we left off.”

“Are you sure you don’t miss Miners Bluff?”

He didn’t answer right away, just studied their names, the tall firs, the land that he’d roamed when he was younger. “You can miss something but not need it or count on it or want it in your life anymore.”

She wondered if he was feeding himself a line, or if he really believed that. “I think you don’t want to admit you miss it. I think you don’t want to admit you miss your father.”