Taking the Reins. Carolyn McSparren
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no move toward the table.
“Come on, join us,” she said.
As the platters of sandwiches were passed around, he ignored them.
Charlie took a sandwich from each platter, put them on his plate, poured his diet soda into his glass and asked, “Would you like mayo and mustard?”
He didn’t respond.
“Yeah. And pickles and potato chips.” Sean took the plate. “I’ll do it for him.” When Charlie raised her eyebrows, Sean added in a whisper, “He doesn’t eat with people.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“He’ll go outside on the patio or up to his room, but he won’t sit at the table with us.”
“But he has to. It’s one of the few hard and fast rules the colonel’s set up for this group.”
Sean added condiments to Jake’s sandwiches and picked up a soda with his prosthetic hand. “Hey, look at that. I didn’t crush the can. I’m actually getting the hang of this thing.”
Charlie decided not to push Jake at this meal. She’d stand back and watch what he did. But he would have dinner with them.
Jake took the plate and drink from Sean, walked out onto the patio, sat in the swing and wolfed down his sandwiches.
Nothing wrong with his appetite. He’d chosen to groom the stallion, although he might not think of it as a choice. Maybe horses were the key to getting him to reconnect with the world.
Charlie would start by cajoling him into making small decisions with the horses. Could other animals help, as well? She’d try him out on the barn cats.
If he could actually touch one without getting himself raked to the bone, he was a true animal whisperer.
But even felines made allowances for damaged human beings. Usually. The big brindle tomcat regarded man as a lesser species created only to provide for his comfort. He wouldn’t cut the president any slack.
Jake brought his empty plate and soda can back into the kitchen but didn’t seem to know what to do with them.
“Put the can in the trash and the plate in the dishwasher,” Sean said.
Charlie added, “We have brownies in the microwave for dessert. Jake, why don’t you get them?”
That apparently counted as a command, because he took them from the microwave and carried them to the table, then looked uncertain where to put them. Charlie took the plate. “Thanks.”
She was passing the brownies to Mary Anne when the door from the stable burst open and Sarah burst in, then came to an abrupt halt. “Oh!” she said. “They’re here already. I didn’t see the van.” She turned to flee.
“Been and gone. Lunch was scheduled for noon,” Charlie said with a glance at the clock on the mantelpiece. It read twelve thirty-five.
“You could have called me. Did you leave me anything to eat?”
“Sarah, we have guests.”
She pivoted toward the table. From her vantage point, Charlie caught the precise moment her daughter spotted Mickey and Hank. “Uh, hi,” she said, but her words, like her eyes, took in no one except the two young men.
“This is my daughter, Sarah,” Charlie said. At fourteen, Sarah was already six feet, a tall colt of a girl. She’d cried for days when one of the boys she liked at school called her the Jolly Pink Giant.
When Charlie heard about that, she wanted to complain to the guidance counselor. Actually, she wanted to drop the boy down the nearest volcano, but Sarah begged her to let it go.
The vets would read Sarah’s toss of her head and peremptory tone as arrogance, but Charlie knew it masked terminal shyness.
She put the last two sandwiches on a plate and handed them to her daughter. “Soda’s in the fridge. What have you been up to all morning?”
Sarah bristled. “I’ve been answering my emails, okay? There’s nothing to do around here.”
“That’s not what I—”
“Nothing to do?” Hank gaped and pointed out the window. “Girl, you got horses!”
“They’re just driving horses,” Sarah said. “You can’t ride ’em or anything.”
Hank laughed, showing every one of his perfect teeth. “If you can drive ’em, you can ride ’em.”
“Mom was the only one who ever hung around the post stables.” Sarah eyed Charlie. “But then there was tons of other stuff to do. Actual humans and the post exchange and a pool and stuff.”
“You’ll make new friends once school starts,” Hank said. “Hey, you must be good at it, right? Army brats are.”
“They’ll hate me.”
“Why would they hate a foxy chick like you?” Hank said.
Charlie cleared her throat and caught Hank’s eye. This was her daughter he was calling a foxy chick. He had the grace to look away.
“Right. As if.” Sarah picked up the sandwiches, added a couple of brownies to the pile, stuck a diet soda under her arm and headed for the door.
“Lay off the computer for the rest of the day,” Charlie said.
“Mom!”
“Show us around this afternoon,” Mickey said, looking to Charlie to make sure that was okay. She nodded. “You can wheel the crip.” His chair whirred as it backed away from the table.
Sarah’s eyes widened. Apparently she hadn’t realized he was in a wheelchair. She recovered instantly and flashed him a grin of her own, the first real smile Charlie had seen on her face in days. “I’m up for that, just not right now.” She flipped her long, light-brown hair over her shoulder. “I suppose I’ll go read an actual b-o-o-k. Is that all right with you, Mother dear?”
“Sarah—” Charlie began. Without waiting for an answer her daughter went out and shut the door firmly behind her.
“She hated having to move down here,” Charlie explained. “She’s lived on post since she was born. Out here she’s lonely and bored.” There was no reason to tell them that Sarah had lost her father less than a year ago. She might not act as though she was still grieving, but Charlie knew she was and ached for her. She wanted so much to help, but Sarah wasn’t interested. She blamed her mother for her father’s defection and death and didn’t hesitate to tell her.
Nobody said anything. Men. They probably had no idea what to say.
“I haven’t helped much,” Charlie added. Big understatement. Why couldn’t she simply tell Sarah she loved her and keep on telling her until she believed it? Charlie asked herself for the hundredth time. Heaven knew she wanted to, but she didn’t know how.
One thing she’d learned from her father very early—don’t show your heart to anybody, especially the people you love. You do, you get zapped.
“At her age she’d find fault with Paradise,” Sean finally said. “I’ve got two daughters of my own. One’s majoring in engineering in St. Louis and is relatively civilized. The other—not so much.” After lunch, everyone went off to unpack, then reassembled to explore the farm. All except Sean and Jake, who was staring out his window again.
“Hey, Jake, how about I show you around?” Charlie said. Sean appeared grateful for the break. “Unless you’re tired and want to unpack.” She watched him weigh his choices and was prepared to choose for him if he couldn’t or wouldn’t. He needed an opportunity to make small decisions and build up to larger ones.
Sean started to speak, but Charlie wiggled her fingers behind her back to stop him.
She caught Jake’s panicked