Authors: Ruthie Robinson
Tags: #Interracial, #Multi-Cultural, #Contemporary Romance
“He loves her, but something happened between them a long time ago. You were a baby, and Mom changed after that. Dad hasn’t shared what happened and it’s none of my business. And no amount of your not understanding will change that. Pops is a grown man. Let it go,” he said.
“I have. I do. I’m trying.” It was his most truthful answer. “It doesn’t make sense to me. Why marry someone that forever rides you? Home should be a place for peace. That’s why I’m never falling in love. When you fall….” he said, but didn’t finish his sentence. “Look at you. All of you are different from what you used to be before you got married. Why would anyone want to love? You lose too much of yourself.”
“Some of yourself you need to lose –especially you,” he said, grinning. “It’s not so bad and it’s worth the loss. In the good marriages you both lose, but you both also gain. It just takes the right one, the one that matches you. Believe it or not, Mom and Dad matched once.”
“You’re crazy if you believe that.”
“It’s true, otherwise he wouldn’t be with her. You got to understand that, and make peace with it.”
Rafael nodded, “I don’t think I ever will,” he said, hitting the white ball with his cue stick.
#
Wednesday
It was back to chores—mucking out stalls—her way of playing keep-away with the flies. She hated flies. Good luck with that, living around horses and the never-ending horse crap.
“Aren’t you tired of my complaining?” she asked one of the donkeys. She had something stuck in her craw since breakfast with Rafael.
She looked over at Sandy, who was healing nicely. It would be a while before she was able to put Augustus and Sandy out to pasture, which was good. It would give her time to learn the personalities of Racer’s Dream, Grey and her two donkeys, who she’d named Heavy D and Grand Master Flash, a tribute to the old school rappers.
So far, Grey was easy—wise beyond his years—and she put him in the pasture next to the barn. Racer’s Dream she’d placed in the pasture that sat adjacent to Grey’s. He spent his time running to the fence, like he wanted to jump over it, and when he wasn’t doing that, he would whinny, angrily. Apparently, he didn’t like his pasture and he wanted to make sure she knew it. She mostly ignored him.
Horses were funny creatures—some liked to clown, some were calm and steady. Grey was the best example of this dichotomy. Some were born to lead, and some were as stubborn as their cousin the mule. She was leaning toward the prima donna status for Racer’s Dream, but she’d see.
She’d cleaned out all the stalls, and just finished bringing in Grey. She had already placed food into their stalls, gave them water, and refilled the special diets for Augustus and Sandy.
Dr. Bailey was coming back at week’s end to check in, but so far so good. She was proud of what she’d done with them. She’d heard that the best way to get over oneself was to put your time into helping others. So far, this had become a balm to her soul, taking her back to how she felt as a kid.
When did she lose that feeling? High school, for sure; she’d given up on horses by then. But it was coming back to her, stronger by the day, this feeling of losing time, of losing herself in her work, work that she actually enjoyed. She missed this, and had forgotten what it had felt like.
She heard a noise, and looked up to find Rafael standing in her doorway.
“Hey,” she said. Actually, it was more of a mumble.
“Hey.”
“What brings you by?”
“Nothing. Checking in on you and your horses. Thought you might be angry,” he said.
“And why would I be angry?”
“I was a little hard on you at breakfast. Plus I hadn’t been by in a couple of days. Thought I would see how you were doing.”
“You’re a busy man, and I’m doing fine,” she said, putting her rake away.
“I can be. How did you like Omelets, Inc.?” he asked.
“It was good. The food was good. You’re good friends with the owner,” she said.
“Not really. It’s a small community. We help each other out.”
“Oh, so that’s what it’s called now.” She looked over at him. He was in one of his not-taking-the-bait moods.
“Frank or Garrett could always look out for you,” he said.
“I guess. And what does that even mean?” she said.
“He likes you. Garrett does, you know. I didn’t tell him about your list of preferences, attributes. That your list doesn’t include men of other races,” he said, his voice taking on the tone from the other day at breakfast.
She was quiet to that. “It’s been a long day. Go home, because you’re starting to get on my nerves,” she said as she watched him leave. He turned back to face her when he’d reached the door.
“So you can be tough with me. It’s just your dad that you’re afraid of,” he said.
“Go away, Rafael.”
#
You should have apologized
, he said to himself, as he made his way over to his truck. You were wrong to push her. Not everybody is you. Not everyone wants to work like you do to fulfill a dream. But there is more to this and you know it.
He was frustrated with Carter. He wanted her to stay here, to make a go of it—for herself and for him.
#
Friday evening
She was standing outside, off to the side of the house, hosing down the lawnmower. She had just finished mowing the yard in the front and back of the house. That had been a lot of yard. She watched as a medium-sized pickup pulled into her drive, and a woman she didn’t recognize with two small girls got out. Their ponytails bobbed and weaved as they made their way over to her.
Carter turned the nozzle on the hose off, smiling as they approached.
“Hi, you must be Carter,” the woman said, walking toward her with her hand extended.
“I am,” Carter said, shaking the woman’s hand. She was an older image of the two girls.
“I’m Macy, and these are my two daughters, Samantha—Sammy for short—and Chloe.”
“Hi,” Carter said, accepting their handshakes as they followed their mother’s lead.
“Rafael told us you might be offering space to stable horses,” Macy said.
“Oh?” Carter said, surprised.
“He didn’t tell you? I’m not surprised. I live about five miles over from you. It’s just my girls and me. I’ve started making pies. That’s how I met Rafe, at the farmer’s market up in Austin. Rafe is short for Rafael; his friends call him that,” she said to Carter’s confused expression.
“I know,” Carter said, pretending that she’d known that bit of personal info about Rafe.
“Anyway, he tries to help me when he can. I’m just coming out of a divorce, and working to turn selling my pies into a small business,” she said, putting one of her arms around each girl’s shoulder.
“The girls’ father promised them horses, before the divorce, but we’re landlocked. All we have is a house and garden and I need the garden to grow filling for the pies. I ran into Rafe the other day, and he gave me your address, said you might be interested. We thought we’d stop by to see if you could help, if you were interested in taking in boarders, that is.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be living here. My family is putting the ranch on the market,” she said.
“Sell? You have a beautiful spread, here. Look at that waterfall! Why would anyone want to willingly leave? I’d have to fight myself just to drive into the city.”
“It is, and I do, although I haven’t been out here all that much up until a month ago. But yes, I do agree with you. It is beautiful.”
“Do you have room for two horses?” Macy asked.
“I do, but as I said I’m not sure if I’ll be around. Whatever offer would only be temporary.”
“If I had the money I’d buy this place from you,” she said, looking wistfully at the house. “Is that the Guadalupe River?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.
“It is,” Carter said, nodding.
“Can we take a look around? Look at the stables?”
“Sure. It can’t hurt,” Carter said, putting down the hose. “Follow me. I’ll give you a mini-tour.”
They trekked over to the barn where she introduced her stable full of horses.
“Looks like you are at least thinking about sticking around.”
“I was. Where are your horses?” Carter asked, changing the subject.
“We don’t own them yet. We’ve been volunteering at this one horse rescue shelter. We wanted to make sure we had a place to board before we got going too far down the road. We plan to adopt,” she said, smiling at her daughters.
“There’s plenty to adopt,” Carter said.
“Here’s my number. Would you call me if your family decides not to sell?”
“Sure. It was nice meeting you, and thanks for stopping by,” Carter said, after they’d walked back to their truck. She watched as Macy and her two girls loaded up, and waved as they pulled out of her drive.
#
“Do you want me to stay or go?” Stacy asked, standing in the kitchen of Rafe’s home later on that evening. She’d stopped by to pick up more eggs. She was hosting some big event at Omelets, Inc. in the morning.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
“What’s up with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Right. It’s okay to love the person you want to marry. It’s what most normal, sane people do. You are the only person I know who wants marriage without it.”
“Who said anything about love? I’ve got eggs to gather and you have an event to prepare for,” he said, walking out the back door.
He’d met Stacy not long after he’d moved here. The two had never been anything other than good friends. She, like Frank, never let an opportunity pass to chide him about his list.
#
Friday evening
Carter sat in the kitchen staring at the TV, not really seeing it. Wouldn’t it be nice if she had been able to board those two horses for Macy and her daughters?
She’d been giving more thought to staying out here, to figuring out how to make this place pay, to talking to her dad and her sisters about it. Seriously, she’d even started putting together a business plan, doing her research. It wouldn’t hurt to ask for what she wanted, she’d decided.
Rafael with his pushy self, as aggravating as he’d turned out to be, was right about her and her fears. With time, maybe she could make the ranch pay for itself, and provide an income stream to her sisters. Carter knew they needed money, but how soon did they need it? How much time did she need? How much time would it take? She had no idea, but it was nothing short of a year, and that would be pushing it.
She’d downloaded a couple of books on starting a bed-and-breakfast, and talk about work. Apparently running one of those quaint inns was no small feat. She didn’t mind hard work, but could she go it alone? She’d also done some surfing on the web. There were a few dude ranches located not to far from here. She should call, maybe one of the owners would be open to talking to her.
A dude ranch, a bed-and-breakfast, agri-tourism—people from the city out to spend time on a farm, doing chores and living the country life for a weekend; all held promise, but could she pull it off?
You could always go over and talk to Rafe about it, she thought, especially since he seemed to be pushing her to stay and getting the whole neighborhood in on it, too. She’d seen him a few times since he stopped by that night. It was always from a distance though. He always waved when he saw her, but nothing more than that. Irritating or not, she missed not seeing him; she considered him a friend, a good one, and knew the feeling was mutual, the reason behind his pushing her so hard.
She didn’t even want to give thought to the absence of his physical presence. That was something she missed too, deep-down-to-her-bones missed. She walked over to the back bank of windows and looked out over his property. His truck was there, along with two others. She didn’t want to intrude, but she could use someone to bounce her ideas off of.
Without a second thought, she grabbed her keys and walked out the back door, heading over to Rafe’s. She liked the sound of Rafe—the shortened version of Rafael. He hadn’t invited her to call him that, not even when they made love.
She glanced over his fields. Someone was bent over there working, but it wasn’t him. She knocked at his door, wondering if she should just walk around his property until she found him.
Stacy from the restaurant opened the door. Carter was surprised, again, but hoped she’d managed to cover it.
“Hey. Carter, right?” Stacy said, smiling. “Rafael told me about you. How’s it going out here? You were at my restaurant not that long ago,” Stacy said.
“I was. Stacy, right? I’m doing fine,” she said.
“Sorry about the wedding,” Stacy said, catching Carter by surprise again. Carter examined her expression but couldn’t detect any trace of teasing in her expression. “I saw you on YouTube.”
“You and the whole world, it seems. Thanks. That was definitely not my finest hour,” she said.
“We all have had those,” she said. Carter nodded.
“I broke up with this guy once. Well it was more like he broke off with me. But anyway, my girlfriend convinced me to go on a spending spree, with his credit card, of course. It was a dumb idea, but it seemed like a sound plan at the time. I actually felt great while I was shopping. Afterward, not so much. So I agreed to pay the bill. Dumb and love go hand in hand sometimes.”
Carter laughed. “They do,” she said, looking around the yard. “Where’s Rafael?” she asked.
“In the chicken house, guarding his birds like they were his children. He won’t mind if you interrupt,” Stacy said.
“You sure?” Carter said.
“Yeah, please, sure. Take a sharp left around the side of the house and follow it to the back. You’ll run right into the chicken house. Can’t miss it,” she said.
“Thanks. Good seeing you again. And good food at your restaurant,” Carter said, making her way down the front steps and over to the chickens and Rafael.
She found the house. The chickens pecking at the ground gave it away. They were in their own yard, with wire fencing almost her height surrounding a large, 20 x 20 foot structure. How many chickens did he have? More than a few, she decided as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her. It had a table in the middle of the room, and a huge sink at the back wall. Chickens everywhere. Rafael stood at the table, placing eggs into baskets similar to the ones found in the supermarket. He was talking to his chickens.