Authors: Ruthie Robinson
Tags: #Interracial, #Multi-Cultural, #Contemporary Romance
“Be the property manager. The one we paid disappeared. I thought I’d fill in for him for a while,” Carter said.
Madison studied Carter. “Stuart gave me the stats on this place. This property may be worth up to six million, maybe more. Six million, split six ways will help each of us. So maybe it’s a good thing you’ll be around. You can speed this whole sale along. Dad says if we push, we can have it up and ready for sale by September. Do you think we can?” she asked, looking at Carter.
Carter did the calculations in her head. “Two months. That soon?” she asked. Madison gaze still upon her. Why did she feel like she’d just been punched in her gut? Two months, two months, two months, played over and over in her head. She’d just gotten here.
“Don’t play dumb. We all decided. You were there, and well before you needed a place to hide out. No one uses this place anymore, and we could all use the money,” Madison said, bringing Carter back to the present.
“
You
could use the money,” Carter said.
“Whatever,” Madison added, turning to her sisters. “Don’t pretend you all don’t need money, too,” she said.
“I could use the money,” August said.
“I’m not too ashamed to admit it,” June said.
“I didn’t realize it would be that soon,” Carter said.
“Well, now you do,” Madison said.
“I can’t believe you interrupted Bentley’s wedding,” Cari said, shaking her head at Carter, changing the subject. “You do know that it makes you look desperate, right? And it is hard to sell desperation.”
“You should have hung on to Bentley the first time you had him. I mean, how many men are going after cowgirls these days. I believe I told you that then, but did
yah
listen? You know your life would be easier if you would listen sometimes,” June said.
“I didn’t want to hold on to Bentley, not then anyway,” she said.
“But you do now,” June said.
“In front of everybody, too. What were you thinking?” August asked, the questions on everyone’s mind.
“Okay, that’s enough. We are here to help Carter move forward,” Gloria said.
“Moving on then,” Savannah said, pulling out her smart phone. “I’m having a dinner party the last weekend in July. Carter, jot that down. I’ll make Sherman drum up every single man he knows and you
will
attend,” she said.
“I’ll take the second Saturday in August then,” Cari said, and Carter watched quietly as they divvied up her future weekends, picking dates. The determination of the Woodson Women was no match for any man. It was the reason they all had one.
The doorbell rang. Carter hopped up. Talk about perfect timing for an intervention.
A tall, older white woman stood on the front steps, dressed in jeans, plain chambray shirt, and worn boots.
“Are you Carter?” she asked, when the door opened.
“I am.”
“You called for a vet?”
“Yes.”
“I’m it then. Bailey Brisborne, the local vet, at your service. Most folks just call me Doc,” she said.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice. Augustus, that’s the name of the abandoned horse I found, is out in the stable. I’ve got company. Give me a minute to tell them I’m leaving and then I’ll meet you out there,” she said.
“Sure. Where is it? ” She asked.
“Back off to the side of the house. You can’t miss it,” Carter said.
“Okay. I’ll go and get started.” She said.
“Thanks,” Carter said, watching Dr. Bailey until she disappeared from sight, thankful that she had arrived and interrupted her family’s impromptu visit. She could escape. No more talk about men and getting her life together.
She walked back in, glanced quickly at her sisters and Gloria. “That’s the vet I called earlier. She’s here to take a look at a horse I found.”
“You have a horse now?” Madison said.
“Two horses,” Carter said, pointing to a place over her shoulder. “It might take a while. You don’t have to wait for me to finish,” she said.
“We’ll wait,” Gloria said.
Carter turned and headed outside, inwardly groaning.
#
Gloria sat, followed Carter’s departure. She’d given up on making a dent in the self-imposed wall that surrounded her stepdaughter, the one that separated her from the rest of the family. It had always been that way. She was past trying to change it.
When she was 15, Carl had finally gone back for Carter. He’d had to pry her, kicking and screaming, from the hands of her great-grandfather, the original Carter Woodson’s. Too little too late in asking her to join them had been Gloria’s opinion. There had been too much water under the bridge. Carl hadn’t listened.
From the start, Carter and her girls had assumed the roles of opposing counsel, fighting over the life and love of the one man whose approval they’d continued, even as adult women, to seek. They’d had several minor and major battles over other things through the years, but none had separated them quite like their father.
Gloria had offered Carter space, particularly at the beginning. She’d thought that Carter, given time, would come around—grow into their family. No. That had been a totally ineffective strategy to remove the huge me-against-the-world chip on Carter’s shoulder. It was her shroud, worn with pride, covering her hurt, and no amount of hugs, kisses, patience, or love had removed it.
Her girls hadn’t been cooperative, either. They’d had Carl to themselves for five years before Carter had joined them. They’d settled in with their new daddy. He’d become their knight in shining armor, and given what they’d experienced at the hands of their birth daddy—or sperm donor—as Madison was quick to point out, she understood their needs, too.
Over the years, the girls had learned to be civil in public, and in their parent’s presence. Carl and Gloria had demanded that from them at least. But just below the surface, hidden whirlpools of anger swirled, as undercurrents. Always present, and ready to pull them under.
#
“Well, he’s savable,” the vet said, standing now in the stall with Augustus. Carter stood outside and watched as Doc Bailey, who looked to be in her late 70s with hair the color of snow, gently poked and prodded Augustus. She was now checking his hooves, which were overgrown and needed trimming.
“I need to call a farrier,” Carter said, watching as Doc gingerly placed Augustus’ hoof back on the stall floor.
“Call my office. My assistant will give you the number of several.”
“I still can’t get over seeing him tied to a tree. Just up and abandoned like that,” Carter said.
“Horses are expensive, and with the recession…” Dr. Bailey said, throwing up her hands. “Owners have been hit pretty hard. It’s cruel, I know, but we’ve seen a lot more mistreatment, abandonment since horse slaughtering has been outlawed. Can’t just send them off to be slaughtered like they used to. All of those plants in the U.S. have been closed. Of course there is always Mexico and Canada; they still have plants in operation,” she said, looking at Carter’s confused expression.
“Several years ago, there were several bills introduced in Congress to outlaw the large-scale slaughtering of horses in this country. And there were all kinds of political pressure to get rid of the one here in America.
“Horses used to be sold by the tens of thousands to plants where they were killed, similar to the cow slaughterhouses we have now. It was a big business; cleared close to $42 million a year in its heyday. But since all of the plants in the U.S. have closed, those horses are now being shipped to Mexico and Canada. Or, unfortunately, abandoned,” she said, standing up from where she’d been crouched listening to Augustus’ stomach.
“Anyway, horsemeat was sold to zoos as food for their carnivores. And horsemeat is also a delicacy, I’ve been told. I’ve never had the pleasure, thank the Lord. But in other parts of the world, like Japan and Europe, horsemeat is sold for human consumption. I wouldn’t want to eat it, but it takes all kinds. There are a few rescue places here in Texas, but they are full to overflowing with their share of abandoned horses, “she said, putting her medical supplies away. “Luckily for Augustus, he’s basically sound. He’s just malnourished, needs some fattening up. Don’t you, boy,” she said, patting him on the side before walking out of his stall.
“Purina makes a feed. I have some in my truck—enough for you to start with—but you’ll need to pick up more. Charlie’s Feed Supply in town carries it. Give it to him for about 2-4 weeks, four pounds a day, divided into two feedings. You should see a big difference. The instructions are on the bag. Feed him hay, free choice, to supplement.”
“I’ll write you a check,’ Carter said, walking her out.
“Don’t worry. I’ll bill you. How long are you going to be living out here?” Dr. Bailey asked, putting away her tools.
“Two months at least, maybe longer. We lost our property manager and I may fill in for him for a while. My family wants to sell, too, is going to sell, sooner than later, I’ve been told, so I might be around to help with that,” she said.
“Well, if you don’t plan on staying, you’ll have to start looking for a place to put those two,” she said.
“I know.”
“Call my office,” she said again, reaching into her back pocket for a card, handing it over to Carter. “My assistant can give you a list of equine rescue shelters that might be able to take them in. You’ll have to call and see if they have any openings,” she said.
“Thanks, Doc,” Carter said, accepting the card. She followed the vet out of the barn and over to her truck. “Thank you again for coming.”
“It’s what I do,” she said, handing Carter a small bag of feed for Augustus before getting into her truck.
#
Carter returned to the house to find Gloria and her sisters, thankfully preparing to leave, packing up all their smart phones and laptops.
“I’ll send you an e-mail with the dates of your dates,” Savannah said, chuckling at that comment. She squeezed Carter in a hug. “Don’t worry. It will be all right. Between us, we’ll have you fixed up in no time,” she said, and smiled her annoying and self-assured smile.
Must be nice to have life moving according to plan like that
, Carter thought.
The other sisters followed suit, all giving her the same don’t worry speech, same I’m-glad-it’s-you-and-not-me smiles. She followed them out into the front yard, watched them load up and leave; all but Gloria, who stood next to her now with her arm wrapped around Carter’s shoulder.
“Are you going to be all right out here by yourself?” Gloria said, pulling Carter into her side.
“Sure. It’ll do me some good. Time alone is just what I need to figure out my future,” she said, pulling away from Gloria’s grasp.
“Out of all my girls, you are the one I worry about the most. Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble?”
I’m not your girl
, Carter thought. “I’ll be fine,” she said.
“You and your sisters could choose to be different toward each other at any point. The way you started out is not how you have to finish,” she said, pulling Carter into her side again. “I thought we’d passed that point. There is no step anymore. We are your family,” Gloria said.
Carter looked down at her watch. “You’d better hit the road or my dad will worry,” she said.
“I don’t know what to do with you,” Gloria said.
“Don’t do anything. You’ve never needed to do anything. Just leave me alone for once,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m tired, that’s all,” she said, walking over to the drivers side of Gloria’s car. Gloria stood silent, gazing at Carter.
“Look for our e-mails. We will make this work for you. We’ll have you fixed up in no time,” she said, before driving away. Carter stood watching her car as it moved off and disappeared from view, not surprised that Gloria had chosen to ignore her wishes.
She ran her hands through her hair. She felt tired all of a sudden, tired from work here at the ranch, tired from her not-well-thought-out decisions, tired of her stepsisters and their battles, tired of trying to please her father.
Hers was an impressive stepfamily. Her dad had married well and Gloria had done well for herself and her girls. They’d all grown up wanting to make him happy, she the worst, ‘cause he was her real dad, connected by blood and tissue—no step anything.
She’d wanted to stand out, right from the start, wanted him to love her above all the others, and considered her sisters impediments to that goal. They were different from her, and she was different from them—always had been and probably always would be.
“Let it go,” she said out loud, this need to please, her unending, sometimes irrational desire for him to show her some love. It all plum wore her out. The way they’d started didn’t have to be the way they’d finished—Gloria’s words echoed in her head. Yeah, right.
She headed back over to the barn to check on her two guys. Lucky she had them and the ranch; something to do with her time other than to rehash her family’s comments about the shambles she’d made of her life. She felt like crying, and she rarely cried.
We’ll have you fixed up in no time,
Gloria’s last words in her head, like she was broken somehow.
Maybe she was, and was just too far gone to see it. She’d heard that crazy people were the last to know of their impaired mental state. And how had it come to this anyway? How had she gotten so far afield, arriving at a place that was so far from her childhood dreams of owning this place—of working with horses, of making it into something her great-grandfather and grandfather would be proud of.
Maybe you should stop trying to please him
, she thought again and not for the first time.
She let that thought pass, and like always, choosing instead to turn her attention to what needed doing now… tonight. “When you fall off a horse, you get back on,” she said out loud into the night. Her great-grandfather’s familiar refrain played in her head. She’d never had a problem hopping back on. Hers had been more of a directional problem. Which direction should her life take once she’d hopped back on her horse? After moving in with her dad and his new family, she’d reluctantly let go of her dream of running this ranch. Coming up with a replacement dream was harder than she’d thought. She’d searched in earnest for other occupations that might fit her. Who knew finding those things would prove harder than she’d imagined.