The Girl in the Window (21 page)

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Authors: Valerie Douglas

BOOK: The Girl in the Window
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It was a thing of beauty to watch, the smooth perfect rhythm of Fair’s hooves as they struck out and then Fair settled into his pace as if he’d been running harness races all his life.

For a moment they were all transfixed, frozen, afraid to move as they watched him make his way out onto the track, stepping steadily, and then suddenly everyone was pounding each other on the back, laughing and cheering.

There had been a very legitimate fear that Fair would have forgotten what training he’d had, despite his bloodlines – that he might fight the traces, or bolt at the touch of the whip. None of that happened.

All but two of them.

Beth turned to look at Russell.

Russ stepped back, his eyes narrowed as they went from the stopwatch in his hand to the horse and driver on the track, watching and nodding as Josh took the horse around.

His smile slowly blossomed as he watched. Anticipation swelled his chest as his eyes lit up.

Taking a breath, he looked to Beth as his smile grew.

As much as Russ loved Bella, there was magic to Fair.

“I think we have a horse out there,” he said.

Her skin broke out in goose bumps at the tone of his voice, at the awe and excitement in it.

Josh drove Fair in, his eyes going to Russ, who was grinning – an expression Josh had rarely seen on the man’s face.

“I think we have a horse here,” Russ repeated, coming toward him to clap Josh on the shoulder. There was something in his tone that matched the excitement that rushed through Josh’s veins. “I think we have a horse here.”

Josh hadn’t been sure, but some part of him had recognized the wonder of it, of Fair’s speed and his smooth stride.

Without thinking Russ walked around the horse, eyeing him even as Beth grabbed for Fair’s halter, Russ in his excitement having forgotten Fair’s history.

“Yes, indeed,” Russ said, patting Fair as he went, touching and stroking, feeling down the horse’s legs for any sign of heat, “we have a horse here.”

Laughing, stroking Fair’s nose, Beth looked at Josh and shook her head at Russ’s enthusiasm, his sheer exhilaration as he walked around the horse.

That enthusiasm was infectious.

Josh grinned and gave Beth a wink and a nod.

She responded by grinning back.

“His legs are good,” Russ said, after running his hands down all of them. He looked up at Josh. “All right, let’s see what he’s really got. He has to be a little out of shape from being confined in the paddock, we have to expect that, but let’s see what he’s really got.”

Josh turned Fair back out onto the track, sent the whip snaking out, and felt the horse respond with a surge of power.

His trotters were good. On their best days they might place, on other days they were in the middle of the pack, but Fair… Fair was a champion.

The power was there, he could feel it.

Sending the whip snaking out once more, he asked for more speed…and got it.

Fair stretched out his long-cramped legs and opened up his stride.

You could almost see it strike him, the knowledge that he was truly on a track, that now he could fly. His head lifted and his ears flicked forward, as if a long coiled spring had finally been released, as if he’d been set free.

Josh felt that power rush through him, the energy of the horse. It seemed as if Fair’s joy sang through the reins and harness. Everything was forgotten except for the pure pleasure of driver and horse sailing around the track, every bump of the training track known, barely conscious of the landmarks, and the speed with which they were passing them. Josh had driven good horses in the past, had driven his share of winners, mostly on local tracks. This was a different thing entirely.

If watching Fair had been beautiful before, this was the difference between watching a ballerina in practice with her leggings on, loose and relaxed, and when she was on stage under the bright spotlights. The horse was poetry in motion.

Beth saw the whip float out and remembered Josh catching the look in her eye as she’d looked at it in his hand.

“No,” he’d said, catching her up in his arms. “Don’t think of it that way. Here, hold it, touch it.”

He took the end of the whip, watching her expression as she looked at him.

“It’s not punishment,” he said. “It’s communication. I can shake up the reins, but it’s not the same. This tells him I need more speed. It doesn’t hurt him.”

In a way it like fly fishing, the tip of the whip appearing in the horse’s vision or stroking down his shoulder to urge him to more speed.

More speed was what Fair gave. Enthusiastically.

Both Russ and Will had their stopwatches out.

Russ was grinning, but Will started to whoop at the back stretch, jumping up and down, hugging Russ, who just grinned all the more broadly.

All Russ said when Josh brought Fair to a halt was, “We have a horse here.”

His eyes were suspiciously bright.

“We’ve got some training to do,” he said, clapping Josh on the shoulder as Beth and Tyler caught Fair’s halter. “And some planning – which races and where. If we’re going to do this, if we’re going to shoot for the sky.”

Life settled into a rhythm.

They worked Fair well into the fall, until the air was crisp and the first snow began to fall.

Even in winter there were races to be run. It was time to build Fair’s reputation, along with those of Josh’s other horses.

On good weather days they would take Fair and the others out to the track at the fairgrounds and work them against each other. With real competition the other two horses began to stretch themselves even in practice.

There were still fences to mend, too, hay and straw to be baled and brought in before winter set in, and there were cows to be milked, repairs to be made to barn, fence, and paddock.

On the mornings Beth wasn’t scheduled to make breakfast at the Home she made breakfast for the boys.

She and Wolf were increasingly to be found at Josh’s house, but no one commented on it. Some nights they simply didn’t leave.

Waking up of a morning to find his body curled around Beth’s warmth wasn’t something Josh was going to complain about. Especially when those mornings turned into something more than just waking up.

When he could find the room.

Wolf had grown into the size of a small pony and provided them with a foot warmer when he could find a way to sneak up onto their bed in the middle of the night.

Beth had collapsed into gales of laughter when she discovered Josh was braced against the dog as Josh made love to her, at about the moment when Wolf fell off the bed.

It was hard not to find the humor in the situation, but it wasn’t something Josh was ready to share with the boys. Beth’s snickers as she made breakfast didn’t help.

Most mornings also found Tyler peddling up their drive on his bicycle. Sometimes he met Beth at the Home.

She rarely needed to tell Ty what to do any more, he just did it, setting the tables for whatever meal was next or talking to one or the other of the clients.

The day he turned old enough to apply for work he did, and started receiving a wage, with Beth’s approval and Josh’s recommendation.

 

Chapter Eighteen
 

Beth looked around the kitchen of the Home. It was the first time she’d been able to take a break in what seemed like forever. There’d been so much going on she’d had no time to think for what seemed like weeks. The last of the fall crops had been brought in. There had been Halloween at the Home, and then preparing for Thanksgiving at both the Home and Josh’s house. She’d had food shopping to do and there was always something she forgot, and then some of the cooking, anything that could be prepared ahead of time.

Driving home, she tried to keep her mind busy with lists of things that needed to get down.

As she brought the truck to a stop in the driveway, she put it in park, and then leaned forward to press her forehead against the steering wheel.

To be honest, she was scared. Keeping busy had been a way to keep her anxiety at bay. Or at least it was a way she could pretend to ignore it.

It was traditional for Josh’s family to rotate the holidays. She had no such traditions, except for Ruth’s. In that she’d been lucky, she hadn’t been passed between foster families.

It was his family’s turn to come to the farm, though, so Josh had set up a big trestle table in part of the barn, with lanterns and the coal stove for heat and atmosphere. His mother, aunts, sisters and their spouses were all coming, along with Russ and the boys, Tyler and his mother.

With family recipes on the line, both she and Josh were doing the cooking.

It had been strange and wonderful at the same time. Although she and Josh had been cooking around each other off and on for months, this was the first time it really mattered.

His kitchen had been full of the familiar aromas of cooking and spices, and some strange ones, too. Josh’s family recipes had a decidedly Native American flair. Beth had started adding variations of those spices to her cooking for the Home.

Now, for the first time, she had a moment to catch her breath. Her heart pounded. She knew she couldn’t stay there forever, but she wanted to. A frightened voice in the back of her mind whispered,
I want to go home
.

Where was home, though?

Beth looked over at her parents’ house. Home had never been there.

With an effort, she got out of the truck, closing the door as quietly as she could, and walked to the barn.

The table there looked surprisingly beautiful, rustic yet right.

A large white tablecloth had been laid catty-corner to let some of the wood of the table show. It was decorated with a centerpiece of pine, berries and late autumn squash that she’d made herself. The candles were ready to be lit.

Josh had started the heater. The sound of the blower was loud.

It was already growing warmer, though.

Fair had his head over the door of his stall, watching her with interest while Wolf wisely sat well out of the way of the potential hustle and bustle, his ears up and eyes intent in anticipation of any unexpected treats. No one would have to worry about anything that was dropped or spilled. Beth suspected it would disappear in a hurry.

That’s where Josh found her once he saw the truck in the drive.

She was just standing there in the barn, her eyes huge, her face white, and her hands tangled around each other.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling her jump as he drew her into his arms.

She looked up at him, her voice breathless. “What if I screw up? What if I do something wrong?”

It happened all the time. She’d read about it in advice columns.

What if they hated her?

That was the fear she couldn’t give voice to…

What if they just didn’t like her?

There had been people who’d turned up their noses at her, the foster child wearing hand-me-downs, the poor kid whose parents hadn’t even wanted her. As she’d grown older she’d watched the suspicion in their eyes when Ruth had taken her shopping, people making judgments of her, whispering, or speaking outright, thinking she was on drugs, or an unwed mother, somehow defective.

Josh tightened an arm around her, lifted her chin so that she had to look at him.

“They’ll love you,” he said, “just like I do.”

They both heard the sound of a car in the drive and hurried out.

Josh was smiling as he saw the car, recognized it.

“Mom,” he said, as the car door opened, and gave his mother a hug.

Josh’s mother, Ana, coming straight from Texas. Beth pressed a hand to her belly, to the butterflies there.

“And this must be Beth!” Ana smiled, as she carefully reached into the car and drew out a sweet potato pie.

“Let me take that,” Josh said, smiling in return as he drew his mother into a quick and effusive one-armed hug.

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