Chapter Six
Allie
With nothing else to do at the office, I spent most of my time at the front desk watching the cleanup effort on CNN. Every hour or so, the news would switch from footage of the president’s first European tour back to Galveston, where dead fish were beginning to wash up on the beaches to the horror of tourists and beachgoers.
At first, I had tuned in hoping for a glimpse of Dave in a hazmat suit, but I kept watching because the images of destruction were viscerally compelling. A white crane stood with three of her babies in a patch of black oil roughly the size of a saucer, looking confused and unhappy. I wondered how many of these creatures would be dead by the time the crisis was over.
On Wednesday morning, I tore myself away from the TV and closed up the office for a house call. A farmer who lived out near South Bend wanted me to come over and look at his horse. I pulled into the driveway at around ten. It was a lovely two-story ranch house with stucco tiles and a shaded patio where a woman was seated in a wicker chair, sipping sweet tea through a straw. She raised one hand in welcome as I got out of the car.
“Morning,” she said. “I expect you’ll be wanting to see Bessie.”
She directed me to the back of the house. There was a large, rusted red gate guarded by what looked like a pack of wild hogs. Seeing my hesitation, the old woman ran up behind me. “They won’t hurt you,” she said. “They’re about as dangerous as a pug. My son Curtis is waiting for you in the barn.”
At the mention of his name, the barn door swung open, and a man came walking out.
He was wearing a white muscle shirt, a ten-gallon hat, a pair of faded blue jeans, and long leather boots that spanned the length of his calves. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a full red beard and sad gray eyes, he looked like he had wandered off the set of an urban cowboy movie from the 1980s. Somehow, I didn’t mind.
As he strode toward me and unlatched the gate with a loud clank, I could feel the heat rising into my face. I didn’t usually feel this nervous in front of clients, but then again, most of my clients were in their fifties or sixties. I felt like a schoolgirl who had just gotten a note from her long-time crush. I didn’t know what to do with my arms.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” I didn’t know what else to say. “Are you Curtis?”
“Yes, ma’am. Reckon you’re here to see Bessie?”
“If that’s the name of your horse, then you bet I am.”
I winced at the sound of those words coming out of my mouth. “You bet I am?” Really? But Curtis didn’t seem to notice.
“First noticed she was limping yesterday afternoon,” he said as we made our way into the cool shade of the barn. It smelled of damp hay, chewing tobacco, and rusted leather. “At first I thought maybe she’d gotten a nail in her foot, like one of our other horses. But the more I led her around, the more I think she must’ve injured her bone somehow. I didn’t know what to do except call you.”
“Well, I’ll do what I can.” My voice sounded oddly high and twangy, like I was on helium. And since when had I acquired a hick Texan accent? “My boss is out of town for the week, and normally he’d be the one making the house calls.”
“My dad mentioned that,” said Curtis. “Where’d he go, anyway?”
“He went out to help with the oil spill on the coast. Have you seen the news? It’s a real mess.”
“Mama had it on this morning when I came in for breakfast. I’ve met Dave a couple of times, and he never struck me as the sort of guy who would drop everything to prevent an environmental disaster.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what his deal is, honestly. Sometimes I think he just gets these ideas in his head—but don’t tell him I said that.”
“I’m phoning him right now,” Curtis smirked. It was such an unexpected response that I laughed out loud. It was more like a shriek, really. Curtis smiled.
Still, I was relieved when he led me to the stall where Bessie was resting, not looking particularly happy. At school, I had found work a safe haven from boys and their ways, and today with my attention directed to Bessie, I could easily ignore the fact that Curtis was standing beside me, watching me lead her around the stall and lifting the affected leg to see how she responded.
“There’s some slight swelling around her lower tibia,” I told Curtis. “That could be a sign of fracture, or she might be limping because of the swelling. If her leg were actually broken, she wouldn’t be able to move around as well as she is. You say you didn’t notice anything wrong until you were halfway through a trip last night?”
“Yeah, I only noticed as we were coming home,” said Curtis, taking off his hat and scratching the back of his bald scalp. “She seemed fine before.”
“And you say she carried you the rest of the way home without incident. That makes me think we’re looking at a bee or wasp sting, in which case the remedy is just to give her a few days’ rest and let it subside on its own.”
He looked at me in sort of a confused way, and my cheeks burned. I realized I had just assumed he knew the meaning of all the words I was using, but what if he hadn’t?
“That makes sense,” he said after a long pause. “We’re probably not going out again for the rest of the week anyway, so this comes at a good time.”
“Yeah, and you may want to bring her back to the clinic at the end of the week when Dave gets back. Just to see how she’s healing and to make sure I haven’t given her the wrong diagnosis.”
“Well, I trust your judgment,” said Curtis. He raised the brim of his hat and mopped his sweaty brow with the back of his hand. “Honestly, it’ll be a relief not to have to ride her for a couple of days. I could use a vacation.”
“You know I’ve never ridden a horse?” I said before I could stop myself.
Curtis scoffed and turned to me looking stunned. “Are you serious? And you’ve lived in Texas your whole life?”
“Actually, no. I grew up in Maryland and went to school in Boston.”
“I couldn’t tell—you sure sound Texan.” I blushed. “Anyway, we need to fix this pronto. I normally charge for riding lessons, but since you’re looking after my horse, and you’ve never ridden one, I think I’ll make an exception in your case.”
“Well, that’s awful sweet of you,” I said, this time playing up the twangy accent. It didn’t sound right at all; I felt like I ought to be wearing a Stetson and chewing hay. “But I think I need to get going. I’m needed back at the office.”
Seeing the disappointed look on his face, I was quick to add, “Maybe take a rain check, though?”
“Yeah, for sure,” said Curtis brightly. “You’ll be coming back in a few days anyway to check up on Bessie. It won’t take more’n a few minutes to lead you around the pasture, and they’re good horses, gentle as can be. Like riding a golden retriever.”
I laughed. “Well, I’ve never ridden a golden retriever, either, so we’ll see how it goes. I really would like to go riding; I’m not just being polite.”
“I’ll walk you to the gate,” said Curtis with surprising abruptness, and I followed him out of the barn, wondering if I had said something wrong.
The moment I got back in the car, I pulled out my phone and called Lindsay.
“Hey, I’m on my lunch break,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Lindsay,” I said, “you’re not going to believe this. I just met the most amazing man.”
“What? In this town?”
“I know, I couldn’t believe it, either. He’s like—I didn’t even ask how old he was, maybe thirty-five? And a farmer. He lives in this gorgeous ranch house with his mom…”
It was clear from the tone of Lindsay’s voice that she didn’t share my excitement. “A farmer, really? Lives with his mom?”
“At least I think they live together—”
“Allie, I just feel like you could do so much better than that. Have you even tried taking an art class?”
I was shocked. I couldn’t believe she was reacting like this. “I thought you would be supportive.”
“I’m sure he’s great, and I’ll change my mind once I meet him. Listen, I have to run. Lunch is ending.” She hung up before I could say bye. I threw the phone down into the floorboard, feeling confused and hurt.