Renewing Hope (In Your World #2) (10 page)

Nodding, Nathan took a halting step at the door, his breath becoming more irregular as he drew closer. His free hand lingered on the doorknob, contemplating. I watched as he closed his eyes and turned the knob, the door opening with a slight squeak. He kept his eyes closed as the door opened, revealing his youngest brother's room, as it was the day he had died.

Sunlight poured into the room, swirls of dust floating in the air from the movement made by the door. Inside was a room similar to Nathan's. The room was simply furnished with a twin-sized bed, a small chest of drawers, and a writing desk that looked to still have papers strewn across it. The bed had been made, tidy and quilt-covered, just like Nathan's. But unlike Nathan's room, this room had bits and pieces of the occupant's life around it. Tucked in the corner lay a pile of books, a small wooden horse, and on the wall, hand-drawn pictures of farm life. I recognized the big black horse immediately. But there were also drawings of the fields, the hill I had grown to adore, and white puffy clouds over fields of green.

Jason had been an artist of sorts. His drawings, for a small child, were quite good, and my heart hurt looking at the shrine that had been left of him. His last thoughts, his last boyish dreams were littered throughout the room. I looked back at Nathan, who stood frozen, his eyes clenching shut.

"I cannot go in," he whimpered, shaking his head. "I am sorry. But I cannot."

I squeezed his hand in reassurance before letting it go, turning to the room with the solemn sense of duty. I stepped in, feeling the warmth of the sun hit me as I entered. The air was a little stale from having been shut for so long. I moved silently to the window and eased it open, feeling the morning breeze wash over me. Glancing back to Nathan, I found him watching me with pained eyes, arms folded around himself.

I turned back to the task at hand; already the tears blurred my vision while I worked to strip the bed. I could feel Nathan's eyes on me as I moved around the room. I took my time, taking care his brother’s things while I packed them away, to make room for the future. I wiped my tears away before I turned toward Nathan. I didn't want him to see how much this affected me, too. I wanted him to know I could do this for him. I needed to be the strong one this time.

I worked in silence, pulling down the pictures with care and laying them on the desk next to the unfinished pictures there. Moving to the wardrobe, I found a box of other pictures, older ones that Mrs. Fisher must have been keeping. I placed everything into the box and looked back at Nathan.

"We should find a special place for this. Someplace that won't ruin the pictures," I suggested, my voice rough from holding back the tears.

He swallowed and took a tentative step into the bedroom, stopping half a step in. He extended his hands, silently requesting the box from me. I closed the distance and handed it to him with care, his eyes downturned as he fingered the box in his hands. He then turned and walked out without a word; I watched him as he entered his own room and closed the door.

I let him have some time to himself while I worked to clean the room, able to do it a little faster without him watching. It was still difficult to do, fighting back tears every time I found something that would have been the little boy's. Jacks under the bed, the baseball bat leaning against the desk. I wiped down the dust, opened the window further as the sun heated the room, and gathered up the discarded linens. I left the door open, a symbol that we were moving on.

When I dropped off the linens at the back door, I prepared some tea to set out in the sunlight on the porch and quietly made my way back upstairs. Nathan's door was still closed. I tapped on the door, calling out his name. When he didn't answer, I cracked the door open, seeing him on the bed, fast asleep.

I swallowed hard and watched him for a moment, curled up around the box, his eyebrows drawn tight as he slumbered. He looked like he was a little boy who had cried himself to sleep. I knew he was tired, and that this had been a dramatic event for him, so I let him sleep. I tiptoed into his room to grab the clothes I could find that needed washing, glancing back at him one more time before easing the door closed and making my way downstairs. I searched out the washing machine.

It looked as if the Fishers didn't have one of those nice machines that the Bergers had. I let out a soft breath and set some water to boil on the stove while I traveled back and forth to fill the old fashioned washtub I had found on the back porch. The sun peeked in between the clouds while I worked, my mind drifting as I thought about how sad Nathan had been.

I knew now more than anything that we needed to get Benjamin back. Benjamin was his friend, and he might help bring Nathan out of his mourning for his family. It seemed we all needed one another for some sort of healing. Perhaps it was meant to be.

I wrung out the clothes one by one, humming to myself while I worked, relaxing in the quiet. About half way through the washing, I saw Fannie at the top of the hill and waved. I couldn't tell her expression as she looked down, she was too far away. She waved in reply and turned back around toward her house. I snorted at her checking in and pulled the wet clothes to the clothesline.

Nathan didn't have many clothes this time, so I made quick work of his personals before jumping into the sheets I had pulled off the bed. The quilt was harder to manage, but I wanted it clean for Benjamin when we convinced him to stay.

I knew we would.

I had it firmly set that we would.

The laundry done, I decided to look around to see what else I could do outside before it got too hot. Nathan had still not emerged, and I didn't want to wake him if this nap would ease his worries. I watered the garden, pulling some meager tomatoes and a half basket of beans from the vines. His squash was late but starting to blossom, and it looked like he had planted carrots that were starting to show. I smiled at the idea that perhaps all was not lost in his garden.

Too soon, I was feeling idle once more. Alone with no one to guide me, I supposed it was the best chance for me to learn about the Fisher farm and its goings-on. How much did Fannie do that I had no idea about, and what would I do with just Nathan here? Surely I could help with some of the usual chores. Maybe not get on a plow and dig some trenches, but I could be of help somehow.

It was late morning by now and I could hear the soft nickering of the horses in the barn as I neared it, in search of my next task. I tensed at the noise, unsure of the animals inside. The horses were much bigger than me, and I had no idea how to handle them, really. I walked back to the garden, to the apple tree there and plucked a few good-sized apples from it. I had remembered feeding the horses at a petting zoo when I was little.

They had been little horses, not nearly as big as these. I had been five then as well.

I was older and surer of myself now.

As I stepped into the barn, the big black poked his massive head from his stall and shook his mane fancifully at me as I neared. I hoped that was his way of saying hello and not a warning for me to back off. I whispered to him, his eyes regarding me with a depth I found intimidating for an animal.

Magnus was very aware of the world around him.

I stroked his muzzle with a tentative hand, his lips chewing on my fingers for a second before he nickered and nodded his head, as if telling me to stop teasing him. I chuckled and pulled out one apple, laying it in my open hand for him to take. He took it eagerly and munched on it as I stroked along his neck, looking into his stall to see if it needed cleaning. I had no idea what I was looking for really.

How dirty was dirty to a horse? My personal judgment was it needed to be cleaned, but hadn't Nathan just cleaned it a few days ago? Was this something he did daily?

I offered Magnus another apple and patted him on the neck before moving to the other horses, the tan pair that Nathan used for the bigger wagons. They greeted me much as Magnus had; enjoying the apples I gave them eagerly. I noticed they had nothing but hay in their stalls, and their water was low. Feeling more relaxed with the smaller horses; I opened one stall and spoke in a soft voice with the mare, coaxing her out easily with my hand on her halter.

Maybe she was guiding me out. She seemed to know where to go as we walked toward the other open door leading to the enclosed pasture I had seen them in a few times on my visits. She lingered near the barn, looking back at me as I stepped back in, coaxing her mate out, again with ease. Once together, they ventured off toward the waiting grass, grazing on it as if perhaps this was their only meal available to them.

I thought again to what Nathan had said about not being able to feed his horses, let alone himself. Looking around, I couldn't find anything other than hay and more hay. What else did horses eat? Oats, right?

"What does he feed you, Magnus?" I asked as I returned to his stall, his dark eyes following me as I approached.

He nickered again and pawed at the ground. He made me nervous, towering there even in the stall. I had to wonder if he would get angry if I left him in the barn while the other two grazed. Do horses have feelings like that? I was thinking too hard on the idea of equine psychology.

I let out a huff and stood a little straighter to Magnus, knowing that animals could feel when we were afraid. I didn't want a one-ton animal knowing I was afraid of him. I pulled out another apple and gave him a gentle pat.

"You're going to be a good boy, right?" I asked, my voice calm and sure.

He took the apple from my hand and merely looked at me while he chewed.

I opened the stall door and rested my hand on his halter, guiding him out. I had to almost tip toe to even touch his halter when he started to walk. He paused just outside of his stall and shook his mane again, before turning in the opposite direction of the pasture, toward the other door.

Was there any chance I would have to stop him?

I panicked for a brief moment that he might bolt and run away. Nathan would be angry that I had let his horses loose. I'd ruin it all with a lost horse. But just as we neared the door, Magnus stopped and nodded his head, letting out a loud rumbling sort of sound. I eyed him warily, standing beside a large steel basin. He nodded again and dipped his head down into it, then back up when he saw it was empty. Another nicker and this time he caught me by surprise when he lowered his head and nudged me.

Nudged was a nice word for batted me with his head hard enough to make me stumble, but not so hard to knock me over. He wanted my attention.

"So where are the oats then, you big beast? Show me if you want to get fed, otherwise it's nice tasty Iowa grass for your big butt," I replied.

He nickered again, and I could almost swear it was a great rumbling horselaugh. He nudged me again, pushing me toward a pile of canvas bags opposite the basin. When I found them, I opened them up to find the oats.

"See? I knew you were good for more than pulling a plow," I joked, dragging the bag along the ground toward the basin. He followed, his head dipped close to the opening. He nudged me a little harder as I struggled to get the sack over the edge to pour out the oats.

"Watch it, buddy. Or I'll stick you back in your stall," I grunted and heaved the bag into the large tub.

I poured some out, not knowing how much he could eat. I was probably underfeeding him, but Nathan could always show me later. I dragged the bag back to where I found it and patted the giant beast until he had had his fill; eating everything I had given him. As if to thank me, he left me a pile to clean up as he sauntered away toward the pasture.

I scowled at him as he headed out to graze, separate from the others. He watched me for a moment as I closed the gate, and then steadfastly ignored me to feast on the grass. I sighed in relief and settled into trying to figure out how to clean the stalls. There was a wheelbarrow there, and a pitchfork and shovel laying in it. I grabbed the wheelbarrow, heading to Magnus' stall first, somehow knowing he was the king of the barn, and would need to be satisfied.

Only a couple attempts at the pitchfork and I knew I was in for a challenge.

Hay was a lot harder to catch with a pitchfork than I had thought. And it was heavy when you had a good bit on it. Add to that what the horse left behind and I was sweating by the time I had the wheelbarrow half full. I was trying to think where the wheelbarrow full of Magnus' muck went when I heard my name being called.

Stepping out to the door, I called back to Nathan, who was on the porch looking around. He looked a little frazzled, his hair messed up and gleaming like golden threads in the midday sun. He saw me and pulled his hat on, walking quickly over to me.

"You let me sleep. Why did you do that? There is so much to be done," he rushed out, the panic clear in his voice.

"You needed it, Nathan. I'm sorry," I said, feeling guilty for letting him sleep. He looked down at me, as if to say something, and then stopped, a perplexed look crossing his face.

"What have you been doing?" he asked, and brushed off some of the stall dust from my shoulder.

I thumbed back toward the stalls.

"Mucking out stalls, Nathan Fisher. What did you think I was doing?" I asked, fighting a grin.

He craned his neck to look around me, to inside the barn.

"You are?" he started and then followed me as I turned to return to my job.

He surveyed my poor attempt at clearing Magnus' stall, at the wheelbarrow that thankfully had more hay and refuse in it than the floor around it, and then back at me. I shrugged.

"I’m terrible, I know. But it's my first time. I'll get better," I said looking away, embarrassed now that I had even attempted this.

I wasn't prepared for his hands reaching out for me. He startled me, making me jump as he pushed me up against the stall wall and kissed me hard. His lips attacked me with such enthusiasm; I was left breathless and gasping for air when he pulled away.

"How am I supposed to be gentlemanly when you do such incredible things like this, making me want you so badly," he groaned and hugged me to him. I felt his heavy breaths, through his chest and across my ear as he let his emotions go. I hugged him to me in return, keeping quiet as he battled his feelings. I whispered softly in his ear, to offer him love and comfort. When he finally pulled away, he was smiling again. He looked around the stall, chuckling and pulled me around so we could survey my work.