Analytical
Tucked under the mare’s neck, Robyn stood in Taj’s stall. As if she sensed the goodbye in how firmly Robyn held on, Taj swung her muzzle around, wrapping the human in her warmth and comforting horse smell. Responding to the horse hug, Robyn buried her face in Taj’s soft coat, wanting to block the beautiful image of her sailing over six-foot jumps with young, talented riders aboard. Sitting ringside, she saw how Taj responded to the challenge, her black-tipped ears perked, neck arched and forelegs tucked tight as she effortlessly cleared fences Robyn would never consider.
Even on a loose rein when the riders cooled her down, Taj had a spring in her gait that Robyn had never felt on the trail. She looked proud and satisfied. Robyn realized she was very likely projecting feelings onto the horse to comfort herself for not buying the mare when Eleanor had called her to say they were ready to sell her.
Tears sprang to her eyes when she remembered the catch in Eleanor’s voice when she had called. She knew that letting go of Taj meant letting go of Penelope yet again. She asked for a day to think it over, even though when Eleanor gave her their asking price, she knew she could never justify such a purchase.
It wasn’t just the money. Robyn had the savings, but she could not bring herself to tie the animal to mundane rides when she was clearly capable of so much more. In the short term, she had felt good about getting Taj out and keeping her in shape. In the long term, she’d be holding the horse back.
Still, she wanted to ride Taj one more time and took her deep into the redwoods beyond the clear-cut Kristine had shown her the first time she left the barn. She wanted the rhythm of the horse’s stride to center her as it had when Barb had left, but instead the ride reinforced her belief that the horse belonged in the ring and was out of place on the trails Robyn loved. They had never been right for each other.
The tears continued, and she did nothing to stop them. Thankful for Taj’s patience, she let the sobs come unchecked.
“Robyn?”
Startled, Robyn brushed away her tears, keeping her back to the stall door. When she turned, she saw Kristine and Caemon sharing a look of concern. Feeling exposed, she stepped to the door but did not reach to disengage the lock. Caemon surprised her by tipping forward in his mother’s arms over the open window to wrap his arms around Robyn’s neck.
Robyn pulled him over and accepted his full body hug. She met Kristine’s eyes which were full of pride and love.
“Robyn’s sad,” Caemon said, pulling back to look into her eyes. He wiped her cheeks with sticky, grubby fingers, smearing her tears around with hands that smelled suspiciously of…blackberry she guessed from his blue-ringed lips. “It’s okay. I comfort you.”
Rocking back and forth with his weight in her arms, she did feel comforted. “Thanks. That’s a really good hug.”
“We can muck now? With the tractor?”
“Sure. And you know what? It’s a good thing you’re here because I have a big favor to ask.”
“What?” he asked, his blue eyes full of wonder.
Robyn unlatched the stall and set him down, so she could open her shed and pull out the tractor. “This is actually my last day taking care of Taj.” Her chin trembled and she fought from crying again.
“Why?” Caemon looked troubled, and Robyn didn’t dare look at Kristine.
“Because I was just borrowing her. Now she has a new owner who is taking her to a different barn.”
“And I won’t be able to see her anymore? Bean won’t see her too?”
“No. You and Bean won’t see her anymore. So,” Robyn cleared her throat and took a deep breath, “I don’t have a place to keep my tractor. Do you think we could put it in your shed?”
“Yeah!” Caemon leapt to the tractor seat and started pedaling, his world set right again. Robyn marveled at the child’s resilience.
“You didn’t want to buy her?” Kristine asked carefully.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to. She’s just meant for so much more.” Again, she avoided looking at Kristine. Robyn hadn’t talked to Grace for more than a week. She’d called to apologize once. When Grace didn’t return her call, she didn’t see a reason to keep calling. When she wanted to talk, Grace knew where to find her.
“She Taj or she Grace is meant for so much more?”
“Taj,” Robyn said defensively. “Why would I say that about Grace?”
Kristine shrugged, frustrating Robyn by walking to Taj’s stall to offer her a carrot and stroking the pointed white shape on the mare’s forehead. Only when she traced the marking with her finger did Robyn connect it to the outline of the Taj Mahal. Grief that she’d never be able to joke with Penelope about how slow she’d been to get it bumped into the hurt that Grace had not returned her phone call. She gritted her teeth, knowing that Kristine had grown silent to force Robyn to talk about Grace.
“I wish a local had bought her. I’ll miss seeing her around the barn,” Kristine commented, seemingly comfortable with dropping the subject of Grace.
Robyn stewed about what Grace must have told Kristine. Why did she consider that Robyn might be worried about whether she had enough to offer Grace? That she would try to bend her to be someone else had worried Robyn from the start. Somehow she’d let a few intense conversations dissolve her guard.
“I’ll miss seeing you around here too.”
Kristine kept her eyes on the horse, giving Robyn privacy as she said farewell to Taj. “I’m still happy to help out with Bean if you ever need it. Caemon too,” she said, smiling at the boy contentedly loading handfuls of straw into his wagon. “And look, just because I’m not buying her doesn’t mean I’m dropping out of riding again. I’m sure I can find something more my speed.”
Robyn couldn’t really understand the disappointed look on Kristine’s face. She closed her eyes and thought like Kristine, replacing the horse with Grace. Her eyes flew open. “You just translated that, didn’t you? And in your mind, I just said I’m content to live vicariously through your happy relationship or find a woman who is more like me.”
“Having a little more than you can handle makes your heart stretch to match it, don’t you think?”
Robyn rubbed her face. “Or gets you bucked off.”
“Right. We do tend to remember eating dirt. I get that. Some might go safe after that. Then you’re guaranteed not to eat dirt.” She stood there stroking the horse long enough that Robyn began to think they were finished talking. But Kristine tipped her attention back to Robyn. “You ever ridden a long way on a dude horse?” she asked.
The question seemed completely random to Robyn, wondering what a dude horse might have to do with her life. “No.”
“I used to ride the Sierras all summer long. We had two different strings: one for staff, and another for guests—the dude horses. Every once in a while, I got stuck on a horse meant for unskilled riders.” She shook her head. “You spend the whole time trying to push some life into its step, and if you don’t, it just stops. Then there are the ones who keep you on your toes. You can’t wait to see where they take you, and every step they seem to be inviting you to see the backcountry in a whole new way. It’s breathtaking.”
Robyn considered Kristine’s words, trying to understand what she was saying.
“I’ve seen you ride. You underestimate how capable you are. Grace says you’re the same with your bowls. We missed you in San Francisco,” she added pointedly. “You shouldn’t be afraid to put yourself out there.” She reached out and rubbed between Robyn’s shoulder blades.
“Have you seen her?” Robyn finally gave in.
A sad smile began at one corner of her mouth. “She came over for supper a few nights ago. Didn’t say anything about the two of you, but she’s off her feed.” She tucked her hands into her pockets and took a few steps toward Bean’s stall.
“I called her. She hasn’t called back.”
Kristine raised her hands.
“I know. I don’t want to put you in the middle. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Guess it depends on what you called to say.” She turned to Caemon, congratulating him on the load of straw he’d put together while the grownups talked.
Robyn pressed her head to Taj’s, thinking about the words she’d left on Grace’s phone. She’d said she was sorry, and she was sorry for the fight, but she’d also returned to how unreasonable it was to ask for her to turn her world upside down.
She recalled how easily she and Barb had drifted to separate rooms, and then also remembered how adamantly she had shut down Barb’s plans to remodel the kitchen. She bent her head to watch Kristine and Caemon, remembering how she had accurately pointed out the sting of eating dirt. Robyn was scared of eating dirt again, scared of being thrown and getting hurt.
So far, she had kept herself in a safe position by insisting that Grace fit into the home as she had it arranged. She realized how petty it was for her to respond to Grace’s purchases the way she had, in fear that Grace was really moving toward a full kitchen overhaul.
She felt a pang thinking about how soon Jen would be out of her room. Even if she did keep the studio with a separate entrance, it was very likely that Robyn would not be seeing her every day as she had for years. She wouldn’t be part of her household, her family. Maybe she was right about not putting in another tenant when she left, and then Grace could use that space as her office. Or would she prefer the downstairs room? Robyn suspected that Sergio would not stay over the summer. Typically, she would have run an ad to fill the space again, but now she considered that if she and Grace were serious, she might want a say in what they did with the room.
This was what Kristine meant by asking what she’d called to say. Robyn had been stuck on the present conflict unaware of how it tied into what Grace might see as the future. She thought of the ease with which Jen and Tara decided to live together. Inviting Grace to live with her opened the potential vulnerability she’d experienced with Barb, but exponentially so if she let go of her renters. There’d be no safety net. Tentatively, she felt the toe of her boot slide into the stirrup as she prepared to launch herself back into the saddle for a wholly unpredictable ride.