The Horse Whisperer

Chapter Eighteen

A quarter moon the color of dappled bone still stood in the dawning sky when Tom stepped out through the screen door and onto the porch. He stopped there, pulling on his gloves, feeling the cold air on his face. The world was white and brittle with frost and no breeze ruffled the clouds made by his breath. The dogs came rushing up to greet him, their bodies wagging with their tails and he touched their heads and with no more than a nod sent them racing off toward the corrals, nipping and jostling each other, their feet scuffing tracks in the magnesium grass. Tom turned up the collar of his green wool jacket and stepped down off the porch to follow them.

The yellow blinds on the upstairs windows of the creek house were closed. A

'How long are they pla

'I don't know. Guess it depends how things go with the horse.'

Diane didn't say a thing, just shunted the bed back into position with her knees so that the headboard banged against the wall.

'If you have a problem with it, I'm sure—'

'Who said I had a problem? I don't have a problem.' She stomped past him out onto the landing and scooped up a pile of towels she'd left there. 'I just hope the woman knows how to cook, that's all.' And she went off down the stairs.

Diane wasn't around later when A

It had struck him as odd that the first thing A

Last night before he turned in, he'd walked out, as he always did, to check on the horses and on the way back he'd looked up at the creek house and seen the lights on and wondered what they were doing, this woman and her child, and of what if anything they spoke. Seeing the house standing there against the clear night sky, he'd thought of Rachel and the pain those walls had encased so many years ago. Now pain was encased there again, pain of the highest order, finely wrought by mutual guilt and used by wounded souls to punish those they love the most.

Tom made his way past the corrals, the frosted grass scrunching under the soles of his boots. The branches of the cottonwoods along the creek were laced with silver and over their heads he could see the eastern sky starting to glow pink where soon the sun would show. The dogs were waiting for him outside the barn door, all eager. They knew he never let them go in with him but they always thought it worth a try. He shooed them away and went in to see to the horses.

An hour later, when the sun had melted black patches on the barn's frost-veneered roof, Tom led out one of the colts he'd started the previous week and swung himself up into the saddle. The horse, like all the others he'd raised, had a good soft feel and they rode an easy walk up the dirt road toward the meadows.

As they passed below the creek house, Tom saw the blinds of A

The colt saw her before he did and, prompted by the pricking of its ears, Tom looked up and saw A

'Hi!'

Tom touched the brim of his hat.

'A jogger, huh?'

She made a mock haughty face. 'I don't jog, Mr Booker. I run.'

'That's lucky, the grizzlies around here only go for the joggers.'

Her eyes went wide. 'Grizzly bears? Are you serious?'

'Well, you know, we keep 'em pretty well fed and all.' He could see she was worried and gri

She gave him a narrow-eyed look for teasing her, then gri

'Did you sleep okay up there?' he said.

'I don't sleep okay anywhere.'

'Is the heating okay? It's been a while since—'

'It's fine. Everything's fine. It's really very kind of you to let us stay out here.'

'It's good to have the old place lived in.'

'Well, anyway. Thank you.'

For a moment, neither of them seemed to know what to say. A

'I'm sorry,' A

'Just hold your hand out. A little lower, there, so he can get the smell of you.' The colt lowered his muzzle to A

'He's beautiful,' she said.

'Yeah, he's doing pretty good. Do you ride?'

'Oh. A long time ago. When I was Grace's age.'

Something in her face changed and at once he regretted asking the question. And he felt dumb because it was clear that in some way she blamed herself for what had happened to her daughter.

'I'd better get back, I'm getting cold.' She moved off, giving the horse space as she passed, squinting up at Tom. 'I thought it was supposed to be spring!'