She crept down a little more, saw the man. The man who came to the house sometimes to Sunday dinner, to breakfast. Sometimes.
She’d seen him kiss Bodine, and Bodine didn’t seem to mind at all.
But if the man made her a little afraid, the horse … Oh the horse was so beautiful. And the beautiful horse propped his beautiful head on the man’s shoulder.
“I know it hurts.”
The man’s voice said kindness, said love, said the opposite of anything mean.
“You didn’t hurt the horse.”
The man turned around, one hand still stroking the horse’s neck. He had a scruffed-up face and tired eyes, and his hair was all tousled.
“No, ma’am. I’d never hurt him.”
“Who did?”
“I don’t know for sure. Are you cold, Miss Alice? You want my jacket?”
He shrugged it off, stepped forward. She’d started to step back, step away, but saw he limped a little.
“I limp, too. Did somebody chain you up?”
“No. I got a little hurt when Sundown did. This is Sundown. Sundown, this is Miss Alice Bodine.”
To Alice’s delight, and to Callen’s ridiculous pride, Sundown bent his forelegs into a bow.
“He’s so pretty!”
“He sure thinks so. You can pet him. He really likes being petted by a pretty woman.”
“I used to be pretty. I got old. Bodine cut my hair and made it nice again.”
“Did she?” More pride. “It looks real fine. A lot like Miss Fancy’s.” He kept talking as she edged closer, lifted a hand to stroke Sundown’s cheek. “You know I’m pretty sweet on Miss Fancy.”
Alice laughed—a little high, a little rusty. “She’s even older than me!”
“It doesn’t matter a bit.”
“Sundown,” Alice murmured. “Your name is Sundown. I like to watch the sun go down. It makes the sky so beautiful. Like magic. I like horses. I remember. Things get so mixed-up in my head, but I remember I like horses. I like riding them, riding fast. I’d be a movie star and have a ranch in the Hollywood Hills. I’d shop on Rodeo Drive.”
“Here, let’s put this on.” She didn’t jerk away when he helped her into his jacket. “Maybe when he’s better, you’d like to ride Sundown.”
She pressed her hand to her lips, her eyes wide and full of wonder. “I could?”
“When he’s better. The doctor needs to tell us when. But you could ride him when she says he can.”
“I—I might not remember how.”
“That’s okay. I teach people how. Me and Sundown here. You can think about it.”
“I can think about it. Nobody can stop me. I can think about it. Where did he get hurt?”
“Right along his belly. See here?”
She let out a gasp—and whether or not she remembered how to ride, showed Callen she remembered how to move and act around horses.
She crouched, one hand soothing Sundown’s flank as she studied the wound. “That’s mean. It’s mean. I know about mean. About mean that chains you up and hits with fists and whips with belts. This is mean that way. He’ll have a scar. I have scars.
“I’m sorry.” She crooned it as she straightened, moved back to Sundown’s head, stroked. “I’m so sorry somebody hurt you. Somebody mean.”
When Sundown rested his chin on her shoulder, she closed her eyes a moment. Opening them, she looked directly into Callen’s. “You’re not mean. I know mean. I know there’s meaner than you ever think. But I don’t remember you.”
“I wasn’t around when you were.”
“I went away.”
“I did that, too, when I was about the same age you were when you did.”
Tilting her head, she gave him a longer stare, and kept stroking Sundown. “Where did you go?”
“You know, it’s funny. I went to California, just like you did. I ended up in Hollywood.”
She gasped again, and something lit up in her eyes. “Were you a movie star? You’re handsome.”
“No, ma’am, but I worked in the movies some. I worked with the horses in movies.”
There was something young and wondering in her sigh. “Was it wonderful?”
“I liked it.”
“But you came back.”
“I missed this place. The ranch, the people. I’ve got a mother and a sister, and they needed me around more than I wanted to think when I left.”
“I missed the ranch, my family. I was coming back. Nobody stopped you when you came back.”
“No. I’m real sorry somebody stopped you.”
“I got old there,” she told him. “Old and weak and crazy.”
“Miss Alice? That’s not what I see when I look at you. Not what I’m hearing having this conversation with you.”
“Conversation,” she said slowly. “We’re having a conversation.”
“What I see, what I hear, is somebody hurt, but strong over that. Just like Sundown. Strong and smart and good, just hurt some.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
He tried a grin on her. “I’m not scared of you, either.”
She laughed a little, pleasing him. “I feel more like Alice with my hair cut and red like Grammy’s. I feel more like Alice with Sundown. If, when he’s better, I can ride Sundown, but I can’t remember how, will you help me?”
“That’s a promise. Maybe you could do me a favor back?”
“I can’t do much yet. I can make you a scarf. Your eyes are gray and they’re blue. Gray and blue all at once. Maybe Ma has yarn like that, and I can make you a scarf.”
“That’d be nice, but I was wondering if you’d help me with Sundown for a minute here. He needs to take some medicine, and he doesn’t want to. He needs it to get better and stop hurting. Maybe you could talk to him for me.”
He caught the look Sundown gave him, one that clearly accused Callen of being sneaky. Callen just smiled back. If anyone claimed that horse didn’t understand every damn word said, Callen would call them unimaginative at best, a liar at worst.
*
Dressed for the day, Bodine carried a thermos of black coffee toward the stables.
She’d already addressed Callen’s schedule, texted Easy, who’d had the day off, to ask him to fill in. Done. Texted Maddie to take one of Callen’s lessons. She’d have to cancel Sundown’s show when she got in—and was working on something fun to replace it—but everything else, she’d covered.
The ranch hands would be stirring in the bunkhouse, as her father and brothers were in the main house. Clementine, she imagined, would drive up any minute.
Another day would begin.
She hoped Garrett Clintok’s day—because she joined with Callen there on who’d taken that shot—began behind bars.
She nearly tripped over her own feet when she saw Alice walking toward her in the pearly dawn light.
“Alice? Alice, what are you doing out here?” Wearing Callen’s jacket, she noted.
“I went to see the horse. He’s hurt. And the man—the man—I can’t remember his name.”
“Callen?”