Page 68 of When the Smoke Clears

“Veda?” She studies the horse, transfixed, but I don’t miss the curiosity around the name.

“Mama named her,” I confirm.

Veda’s head swings toward her at the stable door. Maci rubs the dark muzzle confidently. “That doesn’t sound much like Daisy.”

She’s right. Mama naming animals has about as much of a pattern to it as if I tried my hand at her crocheting. “Apparently it means wise. Don’t ask me how she comes up with these things.”

Maci laughs, and I can see the other side of this darkness that we’re in. That one sound reminds me that there’s a way through all of the bullshit; we just have to get there together.

“You wanna ride her?”

Maci talks to Veda instead of me. “What do you think, Veda? Want to take me for a spin?” She pulls her hand back from rubbing and Veda nudges forward, seeking contact again. There’s only a hint of hesitation on Maci’s face.

“She’s really calm. A sweet girl.” I wrap an arm around Maci’s waist, tucking her against me.

“Okay.” I hardly hear her.

As we prep the horses for the ride, I talk Maci through the process of saddling. She rubs her free hand over Veda as she brushes and watches intently at everything I tell her about getting the saddle on right.

“You ready?” I press my front to Maci’s back, setting my hands on her hips. “I’ll give you a boost.”

She smirks over her shoulder. “Don’t think I can do it?”

Shifting my mouth close to her ear, I lower my voice. “I’m confident you can do it. Just like you can do anything you set your mind to. I just want to touch you, Firecracker. That ok?”

Her hips shift backward the slightest bit. “That all?”

I kiss the crook of her neck. “For now.” My grip tightens on her waist. “Ready?”

She nods, puts her left leg into the stirrup and shifts, while I help lift her sweet ass onto Veda. I don’t miss her wince as she rights herself.

“You good? If you’re not ready, we don’t have to go out yet.”

She shakes her head quickly. “No, I’m fine. I’m sore still, but I’m okay.”

I know better than to think Maci will be forthcoming with me, so I study her a few seconds longer to assess for myself. She has more tells than she thinks. Her head drops over to one side and she pins me with a sassy look.

Fine. She can be sore then.

I mount Johnny Walker and we head out. Maci rides quietly next to me, listening to everything I tell her like there’s a test. She asks about all of the structures we come across, studying the animals and generally enjoying the ride.

Some might think she’s shy with the way she can fall into quiet so easily, but I don’t think there’s ever a time where she’s not in her head. Thinking, creating, analyzing.

Periodically, she lifts the camera and takes photos. Shots of the herd, the landscape, me—though I try to ignore the last part.

I decide to finish our tour by bringing her to our future home site. She perks up as soon as we pass the fence line, but I can practically hear her wheels turning.

“What’s going on in that pretty head?”

She smiles softly at me. “I’m wondering about something, but I’m almost afraid to bring it up.”

“Because of me?”

“No. I don’t want to manifest it.”

I have a feeling I won’t like where this is going. “That’s not quite how that works. What’s up?”

Her hands tighten on the reins and Veda bobs her head.

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