Starting Over in Maple Bay by Brittney Joy
CHAPTER SIX
Jesse stood in the middle of the round corral, nose-to-nose with the big buckskin gelding.
“I won’t hurt you, Indy. I promise,” Jesse said, just above a whisper. He grasped the lead rope that was attached to the doubtful horse’s halter, but the rope carried plenty of slack. Jesse would never try to force a horse to stand still with brute strength. That tactic never earned trust. Instead, Jesse had been working for the past hour to show Indy that time with a human could be pleasant.
Despite Jesse’s efforts and patience, Indy’s tan coat glistened with nervous sweat, and his stance told Jesse he’d flee at a moment’s notice. This was the second time Jesse had worked with Indy. He had the horse in the round pen behind Frankie’s barn. Usually, the round pen was used as a safe space to train young horses. It was a much smaller corral than the outdoor arena and if a colt happened to spook or buck, they couldn’t run far. However, Indy wasn’t a colt. He was thirteen years old and didn’t trust a single soul.
Jesse didn’t blame him. Indy had been dealt a bad hand by his last owner.
“What do you think of your new home?” Jesse slowly inched his hand toward Indy, giving the gelding ample time to process his approach. When his fingertips finally touched Indy’s wet neck, Jesse scratched him in small circles before letting his hand fall back to his side. “Good boy.” He repeated the process over and over until Indy started to relax.
Jesse had been riding horses most of his thirty-eight years—starting when he wasn’t much more than a toddler. His parents bred and trained Paint Horses and his entire family was involved in the business. At least, they had been. Now it was just Jesse, his father, and his brother, Evan. Evan managed the breeding, sales, and the barn. Jesse did the training. The horses were well-bred so most only needed a few months under-saddle before they were easily sold. The family business—Painted Dreams Ranch—was a small breeding and training facility. Usually, they had four or five foals a year, which was enough to keep Jesse busy and employed part-time. Same for his brother. But where Evan managed the local feed store, Jesse never saw himself doing anything but riding horses. Instead of getting a job in town, Jesse had been taking on outside training projects since he was a teenager. Over the years, he’d made a name for himself. In the area, he was who everyone called concerning their problem horses. The broncs. The mean ones. The flight risks. But Jesse didn’t mind. He found the biggest rewards in working with the horses no one else wanted.
“You’ll make someone a great horse.” Jesse scratched Indy’s neck again. He continued talking, slow and smooth, as he scratched his way up toward Indy’s ears. “You’re big, strong, and fast. Maybe you’ll be a ranch horse? Or would you like to run barrels? Ride trails?”
He stopped short of touching Indy’s ears, not wanting to push the gelding too far. Indy had already made great progress in the short time he’d been in Frankie’s barn.
A month ago, Indy was dropped off at Frankie’s barn. He was underweight and scared. Frankie and Rose had always worked closely with Hooves and Hearts, a local rescue group that worked to rehome neglected horses. Rose started fostering rescued horses when Frankie was a kid and it was a passion they shared, nursing abused horses back to health and finding them a new, happy life. When they got one that proved hard to handle, Frankie always called Jesse. He gladly volunteered his time. Indy was one such case. He was also the first rescue Frankie had agreed to foster since Rose’s passing.
“One step at a time. Right, buddy?” Jesse smoothed a hand over Indy’s neck, knowing he was talking about Frankie’s grieving process as well as the horse’s training. It was hard to watch his friend go through such a rough patch. Frankie was like a little sister to him, and Jesse would do anything to protect her. In this instance, with the passing of Frankie’s mother, Jesse felt helpless, but he still tried to support her, Garrett, and the boys however he could.
Jesse urged Indy toward the corral gate, deciding it was time to end their training session. Just as he did, Tommy ran around the corner of the barn.
“Lunchtime, Uncle Jesse!” Tommy yelled, and Indy jumped sideways.
“Easy.” Jesse stood still and stayed calm. Overreacting with a frightened horse only increased their fear. If Jesse showed courage and kept Indy safe, Indy would start to understand that he could trust Jesse’s instincts. “It’s just Tommy.”
Tommy had stopped cold in his tracks when the horse jumped.
Indy was startled, but he hadn’t bolted. That was progress. “Remember to move a little slower around this one, Tommy. For now, anyhow. He’s not sure what to think of quick movements.” Jesse was sure Indy had been man-handled by his previous owner.
“Sorry. I forgot.” Tommy’s eyes were wide.
Jesse gave Tommy a reassuring grin. “Do you want to come say hi?”
Tommy nodded and approached the corral slowly. “Hello, Mr. Indy.” Tommy neared the fence and Indy watched him with curiosity. The horse wasn’t presenting the same fear he showed around adults.
Jesse scratched Indy’s neck. “Maybe Indy will have a kid of his own someday.” Jesse pictured the big buckskin horse hauling around a little boy or a little girl, everybody happy as clams. “Good job on your approach, Tommy.”
Jesse made sure to praise the little boy. Training horses and kids had a lot of similarities. Kindness and praise got you a lot farther than scolding.
“Momma told me to tell you it’s lunchtime.”
“Thank you. Can you tell her I’ll be there in ten minutes?”
Tommy nodded, like he had important instructions. He turned away and kept a calm pace until he disappeared around the side of the barn. Then Jesse heard his little feet sprint into a run. Jesse grinned. Frankie’s boys were all-energy, all-the-time. They reminded Jesse of himself and Evan when they were kids.
After putting Indy back in his paddock, Jesse headed toward the house. The boys and Frankie sat at the table on the back deck. Frankie often fed Jesse if he was around for lunch, but if Frankie was cooking, Jesse knew to expect bologna sandwiches or microwaved hot dogs. He didn’t discriminate against either, but when he started up the stairs to the deck, he was more than surprised to see the crew mowing down on croissant sandwiches and a side of mixed, chopped fruit.
“That looks good.” Jesse adjusted the rim of his ballcap to make sure he was seeing correctly.
“Chicken salad croissants,” Frankie replied, halfway through her lunch and looking like she was in heaven.
Noah held his sandwich in front of his face and squinted into the middle. “But the meat sandwich has fruit and nuts in it.” He didn’t look impressed. Noah was Frankie’s picky eater. Jesse knew Noah would’ve preferred a microwaved hot dog.
“Grapes and pecans,” Frankie clarified through a mouthful. “It’s delicious. And if you boys eat all your lunch you can have freeze pops.”
That was Frankie’s bargaining chip and it generally worked. The boys focused on eating.
“Did you make this?” Jesse asked, knowing Frankie would rather scrub stock tanks or clean horse stalls than spend any time in the kitchen.
Frankie laughed. A piece of chicken flew out of her mouth and bounced onto the table. The boys thought their mother’s accidental spit was hilarious and they went into a fit of laughter.
Frankie wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Oh, goodness. You know me better than that, Jesse. But thanks for the laugh.” She gave him a headshake and a genuine smile. Jesse hadn’t seen one of those in a while. “Hazel made us lunch and she’s putting together a plate for you too.”
Behind Frankie, the sliding glass door opened.
“What’s so funny?” Hazel appeared holding two plates of food. Her daughter was right behind her with a third plate.
Jesse gave Hazel a once-over. Yesterday she’d arrived in her fancy car, wearing her fancy clothes. She even ran extra-fancy when the rooster chased her. Granted, the rooster was a mean old thing. Mother Clucker chased everyone. However, Hazel’s dramatic reaction only emphasized the city girl that she was, so Jesse was surprised to see Hazel stride out of the kitchen wearing cutoff jean shorts and a black tank top. Her red hair was twisted into a bun on top of her head and she didn’t wear a lick of make-up. She looked like she could belong on the farm. She must’ve borrowed some clothes from Frankie, because no city girl owned cutoff Wranglers. Though Jesse had never noticed Frankie filling out those shorts so well.
“The boys are just being silly,” Frankie replied, snatching Jesse out of his stare. She took another bite of her chicken salad croissant and gave Hazel a grateful look. “This is so good.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Hazel offered a plate to Jesse. “Frankie said you’d be joining us. I hope you don’t have a nut allergy.”
Jesse took the plate. “Thank you, Ma’am.” Hazel looked at him like she hadn’t expected manners. “And, no. I don’t have a nut allergy.”
Grace took a chair next to Tommy. “When Mom makes snacks for cheer team, there’s a whole list of stuff she can’t use. Nuts, gluten, high fructose corn syrup, dairy, and . . . ” She was trying to think of more, but gave up.
Tommy looked at Grace like she was speaking Chinese. “What’s gluten?”
Grace shrugged and all the kids went back to eating.
“That’s a lot of restrictions.” Jesse took a seat next to Frankie’s youngest, Noah, and Hazel sat across from him. Jesse didn’t know anyone that refused gluten. Gluten was in all the best things.
“It’s a pain, but a lot of kids at Grace’s school have allergies so we have to be careful,” Hazel explained. Jesse wondered if those kids were allowed to play in the dirt. Dust, dirt, and mud made for a strong immune system, but he opted to keep his opinion to himself.
Hazel popped a blueberry in her mouth, and Jesse continued to size her up. Garrett was a good friend of Jesse’s and a few weeks ago, Garrett confided in him. He told Jesse that Rose had another daughter and that she’d willed half her property to a sister Frankie had never met. Furthermore, Rose’s will required Hazel to live on the property for the summer, else neither woman would inherit anything. Knowing Rose most of his life, Jesse couldn’t wrap his head around this request, and regretfully wondered if Rose had been of sound mind when she last changed her will. Rose was a sweetheart. She was wild and impulsive, but she had a heart bigger than Paul Bunyon. Why would she leave Frankie’s happiness in the hands of a woman that had no interest in Maple Bay?
Hazel sipped her iced tea, looking uncomfortable. “Frankie told me that you train horses.”
Jesse could tell Hazel was trying to fill the silence. “I do,” Jesse confirmed, but didn’t expand on his answer. She hadn’t really asked him a question.
Tommy expanded for him. “Momma calls him the horse whisperer. Right, Momma?”
Frankie grinned. “I only call him that because he hates it.”
“I’m no Robert Redford.” Jesse was referring to the horse-whisperer title he’d unwillingly picked up sometime in the past ten years.
“Oh, come on,” Frankie prodded. “You secretly love the nickname.”
Jesse gave his friend a raised eyebrow. “It makes me sound like I’m some kind of horse-therapist.”
“You are,” Frankie said, and turned to Hazel. “He has a gift. He can figure out even the toughest horses. He works through their problems. He fixes them.”
Both Hazel and Grace were looking at Jesse with curiosity, and he was ready to move the conversation in another direction—off him.
“Mom, he’s not a whisperer.” Noah raised his chubby little hand which held a strawberry piece. “He’s a cowboy!”
Jesse chuckled at Noah and ruffled the little boy’s hair. “Thanks for being on my side, buddy.” Noah gave him a toothy smile.
Frankie winked at Noah but brought the conversation back to Jesse. “By the way, cowboy, how did Indy do today?”
“Good. He’s coming around. I think I’ll try saddling him next week, but he’s definitely going to need at least a couple of months of work.”
“Is he like a wild horse or something?” Grace asked, genuinely.
“Not wild. He’s just had some bad experiences with people. Needs to be shown he can trust humans again,” Jesse explained. “The local rescue group pulled him out of an abusive home and Frankie is fostering him.”
“He was abused?” Hazel asked. “That’s horrible.”
Grace nodded, agreeing with her mother.
“It is, but he’s in the right place now. Frankie is a wizard with nutrition. She’ll have him fattened up in no time,” Jesse said.
Frankie licked croissant flakes from her fingers. “I focus on his health and Jesse works on his training. Then, when he’s in a better place, the rescue group can rehome him.”
“That’s awesome,” Grace said, with the eyes of a kid reaching for an ice cream cone. Jesse’s heart swelled. Yesterday he’d watched Grace with Noah’s pony. She was so excited to be close to Mister Pepper that Jesse thought she might pop when she touched him. Despite her excitement, she was patient and thoughtful with each movement, doing exactly as she was shown by Noah. She gently brushed Pepper’s mane and was even brave enough to give the pony a carrot. Today he saw her vigorously clean a few horse pens with the boys. Grace and Tommy took turns pushing the wheelbarrow and shoveling manure piles from the dirt, while Wyatt and Noah mostly chased each other around the pen. Jesse also noticed how Grace had stared longingly at the girls riding horses in the arena—the ones Frankie was giving lessons to.
“I heard you’re staying here for the summer, right?” Jesse asked Grace and she bobbled her head in a quick answer. “Frankie has quite a few horses. Maybe if you help her with some of the barn chores, Frankie could give you some riding lessons.”
Grace’s mouth dropped open like a nutcracker. Usually, Jesse wouldn’t offer up someone else’s services, but Frankie was such a good instructor, especially with kids, and she could easily throw Grace in one of her group lessons. He knew Frankie wouldn’t mind. Plus, every kid needed a horse. Heck, he’d give Grace lessons himself, but all his horses were young and green-broke. Frankie had a stable full of seasoned, patient horses.
“Totally,” Frankie replied like it was no big deal. “If you can scrub buckets and shovel poop, I’m more than happy to give you—”
“Oh, no.” Hazel cut Frankie off as though her daughter had just been offered a beer.
Tommy gave Hazel a cockeyed look. Jesse might’ve done the same.
Hazel quickly defended her response. “Grace has never been around horses before, and I don’t want her getting hurt.”
Noah leaned over his plate. “I’m around horses all the time and I never got hurt.” He spoke through a mouthful of strawberries. “Except that one time when Spot stepped on my toe and Momma had to take me to the doctor. And then the one time I fell off Daisy.”
Hazel’s eyes widened even more, if that was possible, and Frankie tried to discreetly hush her son.
“Noah, you fell off Daisy because you were trying to ride her backwards,” Frankie said.
Noah looked confused and then he laughed. “Oh, yeah! I forgot. That was funny.”
“And he was wearing a helmet,” Frankie said to Hazel. “All the kids that ride on my property wear helmets. And I always teach safety first. That’s a priority. Even if my own kids don’t always follow my rules.” She gave Noah a glare and he stuck a blueberry in his mouth.
Hazel looked flustered. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Jesse didn’t understand Hazel’s hesitation, and was about to tell her so when Grace got up from the table and ran off. She descended the deck stairs and sprinted across the lawn. Before she retreated, Jesse saw tears pooling in her eyes.
He instinctually rose from his seat, ready to go after Grace and apologize, even though it was Hazel that made her cry.
“I didn’t mean to—” he said to Hazel, but she raised her hand, telling him to stay put.
“You’ve done enough, thank you. I will go talk to my daughter.” Hazel stood and pushed her chair back in place. “And please don’t offer Grace anything else without running it by me first. Okay?”
Her words were full of proper pleasantries, but her tone was anything but friendly. Jesse nodded, almost involuntarily.
After giving Jesse one more stern glare, Hazel strode across the lawn toward an old oak tree. Grace was sitting on knotted roots. Hazel joined her in the shade.
Jesse looked at Frankie. “I didn’t think that conversation would end in tears.”
“Neither did I.” Frankie seemed worried and Jesse felt responsible for upsetting all the women he’d been having lunch with.
“I’ll go apologize.” Regardless of what Jesse thought of Hazel’s decision, Jesse hadn’t intended to upset Grace. In fact, his offer was meant to make her smile. “I’ll make it right.”
Before he could stand from his chair, a shiny blue truck turned into Frankie’s driveway. It was pulling a camper, but Jesse couldn’t see who was behind the wheel. It wasn’t a vehicle he knew.
Under the oak tree, Grace popped up from the ground and raced toward the approaching truck.