The Horse Whisperer

'What is it?'

'Nothing. It's okay.'

With a grunt of effort she swung the leg over the cantle and sat in the saddle. Even before she'd settled he could see something was wrong. And then he saw her face screw up and realized she was crying.

'Gracie, what is it?'

She shook her head. He thought at first she was in pain, but when at last she spoke it was clear they were tears of anger.

'It's no damn good.' The words were almost spat. 'It's not going to work.'

It took Robert the rest of the day to get hold of Wendy Auerbach. The clinic had an answering machine with an emergency number which, curiously, seemed permanently busy. Maybe every other prosthetic in New York had cracked in sympathy or through some lurking defect whose time had suddenly come. When at last he got through, a weekend duty nurse said she was sorry but it wasn't clinic policy to give out home numbers. If however it really was as urgent as Robert said, which by her tone she seemed to doubt, she would try to contact Dr Auerbach on his behalf. An hour later the nurse called back. Dr Auerbach was out and wouldn't be home till late afternoon.

While they waited, A

Although Grace's tears had upset him and he felt for her in her frustration, Robert felt also a secret relief that he was to be spared what, it now emerged, was to have been a surprise staged specially for him. The sight of Grace climbing up on Gonzo had been nerve-racking enough. The thought of her on Pilgrim, whose calmer demeanor he didn't quite trust, was downright scary.

He didn't query it however. The failing, he knew, was his. The only horses he'd ever felt at ease with were those little ones in shopping malls that you slotted coins in to make them rock. Once it was apparent the idea had the backing not just of A

By six o'clock they had a plan.

Wendy Auerbach at last called and got Grace to describe precisely where the crack was. She then told Robert that if Grace could get back to New York and come in for a new molding late on Monday, they could do a fitting on Wednesday and have the new prosthetic ready by the weekend.

'Alrighty?'

'Alrighty,' Robert said and thanked her.

In family conference in the creek house living room, the three of them decided what they'd do. A

A

Then Robert called the airline. They had a problem. There was only one other seat on the return flight he'd booked himself on from Salt Lake City to New York. He asked them to hold it.

'I'll get a later flight,' A

'Why?' Robert said. 'You may as well stay here.'

'She can't fly back here on her own.'

Grace said, 'Why not? Come on, Mom, I flew to England on my own when I was ten!'

'No. It's a co

'A

'Mom, I'm not a kid.'

'You are a kid.'

'The airline'll take care of her,' Robert said. 'Look, if it comes to it, Elsa can fly out with her.'

There was a silence, he and Grace both watching A

Robert told himself that whatever change there was doubtless stemmed from the trauma and release of losing her job. But now, while he watched her making up her mind, he acknowledged to himself that he found his wife unfathomable.

A

'I'll be here all on my own.'

They laughed. Grace put an arm around her.

'Oh, poor little Mommy.'

Robert smiled at her. 'Hey. Give yourself a break.

Enjoy it. After a year of Crawford Gates, if anyone deserves some time it's you.'

He called the airline to confirm Grace's reservation.

They built the fire for the barbecue in a sheltered bend of the creek below the ford, where two rough-hewn wooden tables with fixed benches stood the year round, their tops warped and ru

The men had gone up earlier to get the fire going. It was too far for Grace to walk with her taped-up leg and resurrected cane, so she went with Joe in the Chevy, ferrying the food and drink. A

Diane was friendlier than ever. She seemed genuinely pleased that they'd sorted Grace's problem out and wasn't at all spiky, as A

'Tell you the truth, A

They walked on while the twins ran ahead. Only once did their conversation pause, when a pair of swans flew over their heads. They watched the sun on their earnest white necks craning up the valley and listened to the moan of their wings fading on the still of the evening.

As they drew nearer, A

The men had built the fire on a close-cropped spit of grass that jutted into the creek. To one side of it, Frank was showing off to the children how he could skim stones and earning only derision. Robert, beer in hand, had been put in charge of the steaks. He was taking the job as seriously as A

Tom saw the women first. He waved and came over to get them a drink from the cooler. Diane had a beer and A