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AS BELLE DROVE TO THE Saddle Up, she admitted to herself that if she hadn’t been so tired the night before, she’d have felt excited at the prospect of riding again. When she moved away, her dad sold her horse. He didn’t have time to take care of her, he said, and also it wasn’t fair for such a young horse not to have a job. Belle was happy he found another 4-H teenage girl to take her and heard they’d done well in barrel racing, something she’d never really been into.
She’d missed horses when she lived in Seattle. In fact, she sometimes felt she must be going through withdrawal. There weren’t any riding stables close by, and with her non-existent budget she couldn’t afford the thirty-five to forty dollar an hour rental fee anyway.
Fortunately, between her junior and senior year of college, one of her friends told her about a summer job Belle knew she’d be perfect for when she learned that the job, at a Girl Scout Camp forty-five miles east of Seattle, included a horseback riding program. She’d jumped at the chance. The job often involved working with girls with disabilities and their caregivers at the camp, which helped on her resume when she applied for the para-educator position. If only that job had been as fun as the summer job with kids and horses.
As she got out of the car, and then walked through the barn to the tack room, Belle breathed in the familiar, welcoming smell of horses, sweet alfalfa hay, saddle soap, and leather, and listened to the sounds of horses munching on grain and hay. The smells and sounds brought back memories of happier times in her life. She wondered if she’d ever feel happy like that again.
“Belle, over here,” Barb called out to her, a bulky Western saddle in her arms. “I have Smokey and Misty groomed. We’ll ride them. They just need to have their blankets and saddles put on.” She held the saddle out and Belle hurried forward to grab it, careful to avoid the buckles and other hardware on its leather straps. Getting hit with one of them was like walking into a trailer hitch—painful.
When she walked back up the aisle to the two horses’ stalls, she saw that other horses stood in their stalls, already saddled. Hmm, maybe one of the teenagers was taking a group out? She’d assumed she and Barb were going alone. But before she could ask, Barb thrust two bridles into her hands and hurried away as she called out, “Are you here for the ride?”
Belle looked over her shoulder and saw a tall, dark-haired man standing in the open barn doorway. Then she noticed he held the hand of a five or six-year-old child’s hand. Most children showed some kind of emotion when they saw a horse—either fear since they were such large animals and towered over a small child, or delight, “Horsie!”—but this one showed no reaction at all.
Belle’s thoughts were interrupted when a big head shoved her almost off her feet.”Hey! What was that for? Smokey, quit that,” she told the horse with a laugh. Then she remembered the licorice horse treats in her pocket. He must smell them. “Oh, okay, smarty.” She pulled a couple out and held her hand flat with the palm up. Smokey quickly gobbled them up and then slobbered on her hand looking for more. Belle looked down at the green foam. “Thanks, guy.”
She stepped outside the stall into the aisle to shake it off...and ran right into a hard male chest. “Oh my gosh! Oh, I’m sorry...” She felt her face flame, when she saw the green goo from her hand, on the man’s crisp new western-style shirt.
“That’s okay...” the man began and with the hand not holding onto the little girl, pulled a dark blue paisley bandana handkerchief out of his back pocket.
Barb hurried over with a rag and tossed it at Belle. “Here, use this. I’m sure Mr. Levine doesn’t want to get that clean handkerchief dirty.”
Belle caught it in one hand, reached over and dabbed at the man’s shirt. She could feel the muscles beneath, rock solid but warm and real...Her breath caught. Whoa! Where did that thought come from? Her dabs slowed then stopped abruptly, taken aback by her thoughts about a complete stranger...and Barb’s guest.
Belle snatched her hand back and felt her face flame again. She looked down at her hands, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Sorry,” she mumbled. She didn’t dare look at Barb either. She wouldn’t blame her friend if she never invited her there to ride again.
“Don’t worry about it,” his deep voice rumbled. “Accidents happen.”
Finally Barb spoke. “Gavin Levine, this is my friend Annabelle Mattson. She’s helping out with the ride today.”
That’s it, Belle thought. I’m here to help with a ride. Why didn’t she tell me that?
“Pleased to meet you, Annabelle,’’ the voice rumbled again.
Shoot. She had to look up now.
Belle saw Gavin’s outstretched hand and awkwardly extended her own, only to yank it back when she realized it was still covered with horse slobber. The rag she’d used on his shirt dropped onto the concrete floor, and when she reached down to grab it, she felt her glasses start to slide off her nose. She grabbed for them, missed, and her head hit something hard. “Ouch!” she yelped. Belle staggered back against the stall door, and rubbed her head where it had collided with his.
****
GAVIN’S HEAD HURT, but with the ladies and his daughter present, somehow kept an oath from slipping out. Half a second later, he didn’t even feel the pain. He experienced the most rare and precious distraction in the world, a sound he almost never heard—his daughter’s laughter.
Before he could react, he heard, “And who is this little cutie?”
“This is my daughter, Gabrielle,” he told Annabelle. She knelt down in front of his now silent daughter. Had he only imagined the laughter? he wondered.
“Gabrielle. What a pretty name, for a pretty girl. My name is Annabelle, but my friends call me Belle.
When the silence stretched out, Gavin knew Gabby wouldn’t talk. He felt a need to fill the awkward silence. “We call her Gabby.” He thought he saw the wrangler raise her eyebrows, and knew what she must be thinking: odd name for a child who doesn’t talk.
“Well, er, Gabby, do you like horses? Belle, why don’t you show her Smokey?” the wrangler said, and nodded toward the big black horse in the stall.
Oh boy, here it comes, Gavin thought. He felt his fingers tighten around Gabby’s hand and forced himself to loosen them as he led her to the stall door. He didn’t want to pass his nervousness on to her.
“Look, Gabby, a big pony. Remember how much fun you had last Christmas riding a pony at the Country Village? And at the school carnival?” He tried to remember when that had been—last year or this—or when she was too young to remember...maybe even before her mother died. Oh yeah. “Didn’t you go for a ride at a birthday party last year?” Sometimes his mom took her to the parties of her friends’ grandchildren—his mom, the brave one in their little family—and told him about it afterwards so he didn’t worry, like now.
Annabelle—no, Belle, he remembered—held the rope and halter around the animal’s big head, and stroked its long face. “Maybe your daddy can hold you up and you can pet him too,” she said, looking down at Gabby. “Would you like that?”
Gabby looked up at him. So far so good. She wasn’t screaming yet. He picked her up and moved a little closer to the horse.
“Just hold your hand out slowly, Gabby,” Belle said in an encouraging voice. “He won’t hurt you.”
Tentatively at first, Gabby reached out her hand. Belle continued to pet the horse and spoke in soothing tones to him.
“Smokey, this is Gabrielle. Isn’t that a pretty name?” Gavin knew he must have imagined it, but it looked as though the horse nodded. “But her dad says we can call her Gabby. Is that true, Gabby?”
Gabby nodded and reached out her hand farther until just the tips of her fingers touched the horse’s nose. Then slowly, she ran her fingers down his hard long nose...and smiled.
Gavin felt himself relax. He looked over Gabby’s head at Belle and smiled. “Thanks,” he whispered.
****
“BELLE!”
Barb’s voice startled her out of the warm glow of happiness that came over her when she saw the little girl’s face light up. And then the glow grew even warmer when she was the object of the father’s grateful smile.
“Can I talk to you a minute? Excuse us, please, Gabby and Mr. Levine.” Barb stepped into the stall after Gavin with Gabby moved aside and out into the aisle. Will you take this ride for me? My guide just called in sick and I have to take her group out. Mr. Levine requested a private group for their first ride when he made his reservation”—she lowered her voice—”you know, till he sees how his daughter does...she has some emotional problems I guess. He was willing to pay extra, so I thought, what the heck.”
“Uh, sure. I can do that,” Belle answered without thinking, still in that warm glow.
“Just do the short ride, okay?” When Belle nodded, she asked, “You remember that trail, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Belle, are you all right?” Barb asked her in a sharp voice.
And then Belle snapped out of her semi-state of dreaminess. “Yeah, I’m fine, “ she said briskly. I just had something on my mind, that’s all.”
“Okay, great. Thanks. I owe you.” Barb punched Belle’s arm in that way she’d done for years. A long time ago Belle asked her to quit, and it worked for awhile, but she must’ve forgotten.
Belle rubbed her arm. “Uh-huh.” As Barb walked away, she remembered there were only two horses for this ride. Before she could ask, Barb was already out the door, leading two horses out to the paddock where the riders would be assigned according to ability and riding experience. So she turned to Gavin. “Did Barb say which horses you and Gabby are supposed to ride?”
“Uh, no.” He must have noticed her frown.” But I did ask for a gentle horse. It’s been awhile since I’ve ridden.”
She didn’t want to tell him she’d hadn’t ridden for a while either. “Are you an experienced rider?”
“Experienced?”
“Good rider? Beginner?”
“Oh.” He looked sheepishly at her and then shrugged. “Fair...Maybe.”
“Well. How about Gabby?” She smiled at the little girl.
“She’s gone on a couple pony rides. Somebody led the pony.”
“Hmm. We don’t have any ponies here...”
“Yes, I know. She’ll ride with me.” His smile faltered.
“Tell you what, Mr. Levine—”
“Gavin.”
“G-Gavin, then.” Why was she so nervous around this man? “I think Gabby better ride with me on Smokey. That is, if you don’t mind. She seems to like him. Hopefully, she likes me too.” Belle looked at Gabby and smiled at the little girl again. “I’d like to see you ride for awhile and then if you do well and feel comfortable I could hand her off to you. Would you be okay with that?” Belle thought he looked somewhat relieved by her suggestion at first, but then another look crossed his handsome face—uncertainty. She’d seen the same look on some of the parents at the Girl Scout camp when they left their children there for the day.
“Gabby, why don’t you ask your daddy to bring you back next to Smokey? I think he misses you.” She held a treat out of sight and as if on cue, the horse let out a soft nicker. “See? Smokey agrees.” She slipped him the treat. “Oh, what a good boy.”
While Belle got Misty ready, Gabby and Gavin continued to pet and talk to Smokey. They stood aside as she got Smokey ready, and then led both horses outside.
Barb was adjusting the stirrups on the saddle of a guest’s horse. “Need some help?” she called over to Belle.
“Yeah, could you hold Misty for a sec?” When Barb nodded, Belle beckoned Gavin over. “Okay, ready to get on your horse?”
“Um, sure.”
“Gabby, could you help me hold Smokey?” She reached her hand out as the little girl looked back and forth between the two horses, then at her dad.
“You like Smokey, don’t you Gab?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“Go ahead then. It’s okay. Take Belle’s hand. She’ll keep you safe,” her dad told her and when she did so, he turned to Misty and hesitated.
“Put your left foot in the stirrup and grab the horn,” Belle reminded him.
“Oh, right.” When he looked comfortable and secure, Barb adjusted the saddle’s stirrups for his long legs and then released the horse.
“Okay Gabby, I’m going to get on Smokey first and then Wrangler Barb will hand you up to sit in front of me, so stay here with Barb, okay?” Belle swung up into the saddle and then reached down for the child. Before Gabby could protest, Barb picked her up and handed her to Belle, who placed the girl in front of her, behind the saddle horn.
“You’re in charge of the reins, Gabby. You let Smokey know which way you want to go. Here, I’ll show you.”
****
GAVIN TOOK A DEEP BREATH of the cool, but sunny fresh air and felt himself really relax for the first time in he didn’t know how long. The big blowup he’d expected from Gabby hadn’t happened—yet. At first, he and Misty followed along behind Smokey and the girls, but when the rocky dirt path widened to the size of a country lane, Belle turned around and beckoned for him to ride beside them. He’d smiled when he rode abreast of the pair and hadn’t stopped smiling since.
“Hi Gabby. Are you having fun?” he’d asked his daughter. She’d looked over at him briefly, but then returned to fully concentrate on the task she’d been assigned of guiding the horse. Gavin couldn’t get over how at ease she seemed with the job.
“Gabby’s doing a great job,” Belle said to him with a smile.
Gavin nodded, not wanting to spoil the moment by saying anything, letting his wide grin say it all for him.