Ashley sat at the small desk, staring at a blank sheet of paper. She’d promised her mom that she would write to Dylan. But other than telling him to hang in there, it was difficult to know what else to say. She chewed on the end of her pen, mulling over her slim options. Finally, she decided that it didn’t matter so much what she said as long as she was upbeat about it.
Dear Dylan,
I hope you’re doing better since your last letter to Mom. Don’t forget that you can write to me too. I don’t need to get all my information through her. I like to hear from my little brother without any filter.
I’ve been working hard around my little “homestead.” I’ve built a couple of new shelters for the horses. The fence around the arena’s been fixed. Inside the house, I painted the bathroom. I’m still not much of a housekeeper, but then I don’t have people coming inside much.
I picked up a couple of new rescues last weekend. They are in really bad shape, but I hope they will pull through. I think the gelding’s doing better than the mare right now, but I’ve only had them four days.
The most interesting thing that’s happened lately is that I’m helping a guy who’s starting a horse therapy program. He’s still considering all his options, but I think he plans to cater the most to troubled kids and people with developmental problems, as well as to abused horses needing a sanctuary. Anyway, I’m helping him find the right horses for his program. It’s really fun to hear him talk about it. He’s a super nice guy.
Speed and Jack are both good, in case you were wondering. Work is the same as always. Good days and bad.
I want you to know I’m pulling for you. I know we don’t always see eye to eye, and we’ve had some bad arguments. But I love you. I want you to be well and happy. I hope you’ll forgive me if I said anything that’s hurt you. Be strong. You can do this. I know you can.
Much love,
Ashley
It was true what Ashley wrote. She did love her brother, and she did want him to be well and happy. She hoped a day would come when they could be close again, the way they’d been when they were kids. Before their dad died and Dylan spiraled out of control.
It was also true that she wasn’t much of a housekeeper. In fact, except for vegging in front of the TV some evenings, she would much rather be outside with the horses than dusting, making the bed, mopping floors, cooking, or doing dishes. Perhaps that’s why, when she purchased this place, she’d cared much more about the acreage and shed than she had about the one-bedroom house itself. However, following her spontaneous invitation for Ben to have dinner with her, she decided it wouldn’t hurt to do a thorough cleaning. No point letting him think her a complete slob.
By the time he knocked on her door on Wednesday evening, her house was tidy, and the taco fixings were ready to go.
“Hope I’m not early,” he said when she opened the door. He held a bouquet of flowers in his right hand, and Dusty sat obediently by his left leg.
“You’re not early. Come in.” She looked down at the dog. “You too, boy.”
By the time Ashley closed the door, Speed and Jack had come inside from the dog run. There was a lot of sniffing and tail wagging. Nobody growled, which was a good sign.
“These are for you.” Ben held out the flowers.
She smiled as she took the bouquet. “They weren’t necessary.”
“I don’t like to show up empty-handed.”
“Your parents raised you to be a gentleman.”
He gave his head a brief shake. “If I am one, it’s because of my grandparents. Especially my grandpa. My mom . . . raised me alone.”
“Really?” She carried the flowers to the sink and found a vase in the cupboard beneath it. “My dad died when I was nine, so my brother and I were raised by our mom too. She never remarried. You were lucky to have your grandparents close. Our only grandparents lived far away when we were little.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother. Older or younger?”
She arranged the flowers in the vase. “Dylan’s three years younger than me.”
“Does he live nearby?”
This time she hesitated before answering, “No. He’s up in northern Idaho right now.” It was the truth without telling the whole truth. Was that respecting Dylan’s privacy, or was she protecting herself?
“When I was growing up, I wished I had a brother.”
Something in his voice drew her around to meet his gaze, but she couldn’t discern a change in his expression. Before she could ask another question, Dusty barked, and Ben turned to speak to the dog. The moment to ask about that wish for a brother was past. Better to let it go, she decided, rather than risk more questions about Dylan.
She turned her attention to food on the stove and in the fridge. Before long, she had all of the taco fixings on the table, and the two of them sat down to eat. “Dig in,” she told him. He grinned as he obeyed.
For a short while, neither of them said anything, too busy reaching for various bowls of lettuce, chopped tomatoes, seasoned ground beef, shredded cheese, and salsa. Ben finished filling his taco shells first, but he waited for her before beginning to eat. She picked up her taco, smiled at him, and took her first bite. He smiled back, lowered his eyes for a few moments—although he wasn’t looking at his food—then picked up his taco and did the same.
He’d said a silent prayer, she realized. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been around anybody who blessed their food. Years? And even then she couldn’t say who it had been. Her family had never been religious, and her own journey toward God had been an unsteady one. Two steps forward, one step back. Mostly it had happened through books. She didn’t attend a church. Not yet anyway, although something she’d read made her think it wouldn’t hurt her to find one. Something about meeting together with other believers being important for a life of faith as a Christian. Maybe it was time she started looking.
Trying not to be obvious, she set the taco back onto her plate, closed her eyes, and silently thanked God for the food.
* * *
Ben noticed when Ashley got lost inside her own thoughts and decided to let it be while they ate. He spent the time watching her, enjoying the way light from a nearby window played across her face. It was such an adorable face too. He didn’t suppose anyone would call her beautiful. At least not in a classical sort of way. No, adorable seemed the correct adjective. She was simply nice to look at her. Doing so made him feel warm on the inside. He couldn’t remember any woman making him feel quite that way before.
After he took the last bite of his meal, he decided it was time to end the silence. Horses seemed the safest subject. He cleared his throat, then asked, “Is the rest of your family involved with horses too?”
She glanced up from her plate, amusement in her eyes, and released a soft laugh. “No. My mom’s afraid of them. She’s never understood my obsession with horses. That’s what she calls it. An obsession.”
“How about your brother?”
The smile faded. “No, Dylan never had any interest in horses. None at all.” She got up from the table and took her plate to the sink.
Ben got the hint. She didn’t want to talk about her brother. He didn’t know why. He didn’t need to know the reason. After all, he understood the feeling all too well. Talking about his mom made him uncomfortable too. He never knew what to say about her. Obviously, bringing up horses hadn’t taken them in as safe a direction as he’d expected. So now what? He stood, picking up his own empty plate. “You cooked. I should do dishes.”
“No way.” She turned toward him. “That would be a fine way for me to say thanks. Come over and eat, and then you clean up.” A hint of her smile had returned.
“Okay. How about we do it together?”
She seemed to consider the suggestion, finally saying, “All right.”
“I don’t know about you, but I get tired of doing the dishes every single day on my own.” He chuckled. “The benefit of being single is the only dirty dishes are the ones I dirty. But the downside is I never get any relief from KP duty.”
“KP duty. Were you in the military?”
“No. I thought about joining up after I graduated from high school, but . . .” He let the words trail off. But what? But I was an out-of-control mess by then. He didn’t really want to say that to her, despite the truth of it.
Filling the sink with warm, sudsy water, she glanced over at him, waiting for him to continue.
He shrugged. “It wasn’t to be. So I bummed around for a bit.” A polite way of saying he’d let his life spiral completely out of control. “Eventually, I got a construction job and began learning a trade. Of course, I learned a little about farming from my grandparents through the years.”
“But you preferred construction to farming?”
“Yeah, I did. I had a decent employer who taught me a lot. I saved up enough to break out on my own right about the time the building business started to come out of its slump. I was one of the fortunate ones.”
“Yet you’ve decided to do something different now.”
Ben took a towel and began to dry the clean dishes waiting in the rack. “Yeah. Owning Grandpa’s farm changed everything yet again. I mean, if I didn’t own that property, I don’t know that God would have given me that particular vision.”
“You really believe it was God who gave you the idea for equine therapy.” She didn’t sound skeptical, exactly. Just curious.
“For this particular idea, yes. I do.” Which was the reason why he hadn’t given up when those first doors closed in his face. Which was why he wouldn’t give up now, even if more doors slammed in the future. Which was why he wouldn’t back down, even if his mom did something stupid.