Page 43 of The Lost Hours
He returned, shaking his head. “Didn’t see it, but don’t worry, it’ll show up. I’ll tell the girls and Emily to be on the lookout for it, too.” He stood back from Earlene, whose hand lay clutched at her neck while her other hand rested on the table as if for support, watching her as he had once watched Susan, waiting for an outburst or a complete meltdown.
Lillian stood, defusing the tension. “Let’s all go into the parlor and Odella can serve us coffee in there. I promise you that we’ll find it, Earlene.” She moved to Earlene’s side and slid her hand into the crook of Earlene’s arm without asking first. As Earlene led her from the dining room, Lillian squeezed her arm hard, hard enough to hurt, and was rewarded with an angry and surprised look from Earlene.Good,thought Lillian.She’s not like Susan, after all.It wasn’t until they’d reached the parlor that Lillian thought to wonder why Earlene could have been so panicked over the loss of a simple necklace.
I barely followed the conversation following dinner, being too worried about finding my angel charm. The chain I’d been using was old and the clasp must have broken and I berated myself for not having purchased a new chain.
Unable to contain my restlessness and eager to return home to see if the charm might have fallen off there, I waited for a lull in the conversation and stood to excuse myself. I’d driven my car to the house, not willing to take another open-cart ride under the old oaks at night again, so I was disappointed when Tucker stood, too, and told me that he would walk me out. I didn’t want company, especially his.There’s something about the way she carries herself that makes her stand out anyway. It’s like she’s used to leading a parade or something, and that even without the parade behind her, she can’t help but walk as if she were still up front.
At first I thought he’d discovered my secret, and then quickly dismissed the idea. I had no doubt that I’d be heading back to Savannah with a hastily packed trunk and a car full of unanswered questions if that had been the case. But while I’d been sitting at the table and listening to Tucker describe me to Helen, the repercussions of what would happen when my deception became known had become illuminated in my mind. I’d always been headstrong, always leaping before I looked, and this plan had been no exception. My only excuse was that it had given me a reason to get up in the morning for the first time in over six years. I think George had known it, too, or he would never have allowed me to do something so stupid. I’d have to figure something out—something that would salvage my relationship with the family I had grown to like; and I hoped that the lost angel charm wouldn’t force my hand before I was ready.
I said my good nights before preceding Tucker to the front door. He opened it for me and then surprised me by following me outside into the humid summer night air that lay as thick on our skins as marsh mud.
“I’m heading to the stables to check on Captain Wentworth. Thought maybe you’d like to come.” His words weren’t warm or inviting, but he sounded sincere.
I nodded, my reason for agreeing unclear even to me. “Sure,” I said, then turned with him and began to walk in the direction of the stables. “Do you always tuck your horses in at night? I thought Andi Winkle was your stable manager.”
“She is, and she does a great job. But sometimes we get a horse who was so abused that they need a little help before they can trust humans again. Those are the ones I give a little extra TLC to. And Captain Wentworth—well, he always gets a bit nervous when we leave him in the stall, so I make it a practice to check on him a few times to let him know that nobody’s forgotten him.”
We walked the rest of the way in silence, watching as the sun dipped lower in the horizon, filling the pastures and marshes with golden light before slowly stealing all the color, wrapping them up with night.
I wanted to ask him why he’d taken leave from his medical practice and moved to his grandmother’s farm, and why he rescued horses now instead. But I knew that the answer lay close to his grief, an uneasy alliance and unreliable bedfellow, so I remained silent, not willing to spoil the peaceful night.
As we approached the barn a horse whinnied, calling out to us, and I looked at Tucker. “Is that Captain Wentworth? He must know you’re coming.”
Tucker slid a sidelong glance at me as he paused to let me enter the barn first. “That’s actually the first time he’s done that. I would think he probably recognized your footsteps because they’re so different from everybody else’s.”
I bit back my defensive remark and instead concentrated on its implications as we approached the first stall. Captain Wentworth watched warily as we approached, and when I drew near he stretched his head toward me, but when I reached my hand up to pat his nose, he jerked back.
Before I could lower my hand again, Tucker grabbed my wrist. “Keep holding it up so he can see your hand’s empty.”
I nodded to show I understood and his hand fell away. Tentatively, Captain Wentworth stuck his head out again and I reached for him, my hand resting on his long nose as he stood still for me, allowing me to pet him. Sensing his trust in me, I stepped closer and he allowed me to pat his powerful neck and scratch him around the ears like a big dog, just the way my horse Fitz had liked.
“Have you ridden him, yet?” I asked, as Captain Wentworth began nuzzling around my shirt, stretching downward to reach my pockets in search of a treat.
“No. He’s not ready. I don’t know how he’d handle a rider right now. Besides, his hooves are still healing. He had some nasty infections when I first got him. Took a while before we could get close enough to shave off the overgrown hooves because they must have been hurting him something bad. Maybe in another week or so we can try putting a rider on him. We’ll need a pretty experienced rider for that, though.”
I didn’t look up at him, feeling his full gaze on me. “It’s a good thing you’re an experienced rider, then.”
Tucker had picked off a single straw from a stack of clean hay as we’d passed it, and begun chewing on an end. “Yeah, I guess so. Although he tends to prefer women.” He pretended to think for a minute. “With her gumption and your training, maybe Lucy will be ready to ride him in a week or so. She’ll certainly think so.” His face erupted into a wide grin, and my heart squeezed a little as he spoke about his daughter with such pride.
I pictured the diminutive Lucy demanding to ride the huge horse and couldn’t help smiling, too. “Yeah, I can picture it.”
Captain Wentworth nuzzled my side again, continuing his search for something good to eat. I felt comfortable and at ease, something I hadn’t expected, and I wasn’t sure if it was the proximity of the horse who reminded me of my old self, or the man who stood next to me. His own vulnerability made me feel strong again, and when I looked at him, I saw the man who could heal damaged horses and had once loved playing pranks on his family but who had been afraid of thunderstorms.
Captain Wentworth bumped me with his nose and I stumbled backward, caught by surprise. I grabbed his neck to keep my balance, pressing my face in against him and smelling the old familiar horse scent—the same scent that still made me wary, though I was no longer afraid of it. I had left that fear behind as I’d stood outside the lunge ring watching Tucker and Captain Wentworth, replaced now with something more like apprehension and a different kind of fear altogether. But as long as I remained on the ground, my fear of failure was as elusive as a moonflower bloom at dawn.
“Hey, boy,” I said, rubbing his nose, “what’s wrong? Why the long face?”
Tucker snorted. “That’s the oldest joke in the book.”
I turned to him, trying to keep a straight face. “Then why are you laughing?”
We laughed together for a few minutes until we both seemed to realize where we were and whom we were with. Our smiles gradually faded as we stared at each other. Tucker finally broke the silence. “You really should laugh more, you know. You’re beautiful when you do.”
Embarrassed, I turned back to Captain Wentworth and fumbled for something to say. “My grandmother told that joke to me when we bought my first horse. It was sort of an ongoing joke for a long time.”Until her presence at events became superfluous and all that remained was my desire to be the best.Quietly, I added, “I’d almost forgotten it until now.”
I gave Captain Wentworth a final pat and stepped back. “Good night, big guy. We’ll see you tomorrow. And I promise to bring a treat.”
We walked past the other stalls, including those of the new ponies, giving a pat to whoever stuck out a nose, exiting the building on the opposite side. Full dark had fallen, leaving a moonless sky scattered with stars and gathering clouds. Tucker held out his arm. “The path can be rough going at night. It might be best if you held on.”
