The Horse Whisperer

In the end Joan sent the boys in through the front door of the trailer with sticks and Logan watched them whacking the horse and saw him rear up against them, as terrified as they were. It didn't seem right and Logan was worried about that chest wound bursting open, but he couldn't come up with a better idea and at last the horse backed off down into the stall and they slammed the door on him.

As he was driving home that night to his wife and children, Harry Logan felt depressed. He remembered the hunter, that little guy in the fur hat, gri

Christmas at the Macleans' started badly and got worse. They drove home from the hospital with Grace carefully bolstered across the back seat of Robert's car. They hadn't got halfway when she asked about the tree.

'Can we decorate it soon as we get back?' A

'Baby, I thought you wouldn't feel up to it,' he said. A

'And hey young lady,' he went on, 'you're going to have enough work to do when we get home. There's firewood to cut, all the cleaning, food to prepare…'

Grace dutifully laughed and A

Once home, they managed to summon some little cheer. Grace said the tree in the hall looked lovely. She spent some time alone in her room, playing Nirvana loudly to reassure them she was alright. She was good on the crutches and could even handle the stairs, falling only once when she tried to bring down a bag of little presents she'd had the nurses go out and buy for her to give her parents.

'I'm okay,' she said when Robert ran to her. She had banged her head sharply on the wall and A

'Are you sure?' Robert tried to offer help but she accepted as little as she could. 'Yes. Dad, really I'm fine.' A

They always gave each other Christmas stockings. A

Grace went to bed early and when they were sure she was asleep, Robert tiptoed to her room with the stocking. A

He came in as she was brushing her teeth. He was wearing his striped English pajamas and smiled at her in the mirror. A

'You've got to stop this crying,' she said without looking at him.

'What?'

'I saw you, when she fell. You've got to stop feeling sorry for her. Pity won't help her at all.'

He stood looking at her and as she turned to go back into the bedroom their eyes met. He was frowning at her, shaking his head.

'You're unbelievable, A

'Thanks.'

'What's happening to you?'

She didn't reply, just walked past him back into the bedroom. She got into bed and switched off her light and after he'd finished in the bathroom he did the same. They lay with their backs to each other and A

She turned and slipped her arms guiltily around him, putting her body to his back.

'I'm sorry,' she murmured and kissed the side of his neck. For a moment Robert didn't move. Then slowly he rolled onto his back and put an arm around her and she nestled in with her head on his chest. She felt him give a deep sigh and for a long time they lay still. Then she slid her hand slowly down his belly and gently took hold of him and felt him stir. Then she rose up and knelt above him, pulling her nightgown over her head and letting it fall to the floor. And he reached up, as he always did, and put his hands on her breasts as she worked herself on him. He was hard now and she guided him into her and felt him shudder. Neither of them uttered a sound. And she looked down through the darkness at this good man who had known her for so long and saw in his eyes, unobscured by desire, an awful, irretrievable sadness.

The weather turned colder on Christmas Day. Metallic clouds whipped over the woods like a film in fast-forward and the wind shifted to the north and brought arctic air spiraling down the valley. Inside, they listened to it howling in the chimney as they sat playing Scrabble by the big log fire.

That morning, opening presents around the tree, they had all tried hard. Never in her life, not even when very young, had Grace had so many presents. Almost everyone they knew had sent her something and A

A

Robert had rigged it all up in the little back parlor and put Christmas wrapping paper on it. They led Grace to it and watched her face light up as she undid it.

'Oh my God!' she said. 'That is just fabulous.'

In the evening, when A

At breakfast the next morning, Grace looked very pale. Robert put his hand on hers.

'Are you okay, baby?'

She nodded. A

A

'I've been thinking about Pilgrim,' she said in a level voice. It was the first time the horse had been mentioned. A

'Uh-huh,' said Robert. 'And?'

'And I think we should send him back to Kentucky.'

There was a pause.

'Gracie,' Robert began. 'We don't need to make decisions right now. It may be that—' Grace cut him off.

'I know what you're going to say, that people who've had injuries like mine do ride again, but I don't…' She broke off for a moment, composing herself. 'I don't want to. Please.'

A