Sunday Snippet: The It’s a Real Snippet Edition

It’s been a healing week, mes amis. Trying to fight back the unholy tiredness that Covid has left me with and it’s slow going. Still not much appetite yet either, although that’s improving. I’ve found some things that sound good–cottage cheese, bread, fresh tomatoes, almonds, and water, always water. Had a glass of wine with lake pals, Mo and Cindy, last night and that was nice, too.

On Thursday, Husband and I went by the winery here in our lake town to listen to music and discovered we were the only ones who were willing to brave the heat. We were so glad we did because we met an amazing singer, who turned out to be a real kindred spirit. He sang for us and we visited for about an hour. He’ll be back there on the last Friday of August, and we have it on our calendar.  If you get a chance to hear Samuel Harness sing, you totally should. He’ll touch your heart.

I promised a snippet, so here we go… from Forever Cowboy, which releases September 25 as Book 4 in Tule Publishing’s new Montana Born series Montana’s Rodeo Cowboys.

“Want to see something cool?” Del’s words stopped her in her tracks as she opened the screen door.

Beth hesitated. The warm cottage, her jammies, and her e-reader beckoned, but curiosity won out. “Um, okay.”

He crooked a finger and, with a mysterious little smile on his face, led her across the gravel parking area to the huge barn. Pulling open the heavy sliding door revealed a cavernous, dark space, redolent with the scents of hay and sawdust and animals and manure. She stopped outside in the pool of light from the overhead fixture.

What am I thinking, going into a dark barn with a strange man?

But then he reached for a switch on the wall and the row of lights in the high ceiling came to life. He hit another switch and the coach lights by each stall came on.

Still, she stood back, glanced over her shoulder at the circle of people at the campfire, wondering if she should call to them to join her. But they were all at least a football field’s length from her, and Del’s smile was open and friendly, and he hadn’t given her any reason to think he was at all dangerous. She reached into her sweatshirt pocket and wrapped her fingers around her phone. Although what she thought she was going to do with it, she had no idea. Maybe blind him with the flashlight if she had to protect herself?

Cautiously, she stepped into the barn, then with a deep breath followed him down the aisle. He paused a couple of times to pet a soft nose that popped out of the opening in each stall wall, calling the horses by name before he stopped about halfway down the row of stalls. He slipped the latch and opened the door. “Here. Look.”

Beth craned her neck to see into the dim space. There was a tiny foal, huddled close to the mare inside. “Oh, a baby.” She started to follow him into the spacious stall, but hesitated. “Is it okay if I come in? It won’t scare it . . . him? Her?”

“It’s a boy.” Del pressed back against the stall wall to give her space to come in. “Come on in. Slowly. Ginger’s easy, but she’s a new mom, so she’s protective.”

“May I touch him?”

“Not yet. He’s only a few hours old. We don’t want to interfere with Ginger’s bonding. Touch her, though. Talk to her. Let her know you mean no harm.”

He led the way toward the big red mare, who was quietly munching hay and didn’t seem at all bothered that two humans had invaded her space. Del put a hand on the horse’s butt. “Hey, mare.” He patted and then rubbed her back as he stepped toward her head. “Hi, mama.”

The mare looked up from the hay, turning her head and nickering softly, nudging the foal closer.

“We’re not gonna hurt him, Ginger.” Del continued rubbing and soothing. “Keep your eyes on her ears. If she pins them, back up and get out.” At the mare’s head, he pulled out a carrot and broke it into two pieces. “Come up here.”

Beth tiptoed forward until she was next to him. “Hello, Ginger.” She stroked the horse’s neck. “You have a pretty baby.”

Del handed her a piece of carrot. “Flat hand, let her smell it.”

Beth offered the piece to the horse, who sniffed, then took it, her bristly lips tickling Beth’s palm. “There you go, sweetie.” She took the other half of the carrot and fed it to the mare, who seemed perfectly fine. Beth stood back a little to admire the colt, who was rooting under his mother, looking for his dinner. “He sure seems steady on his feet already.”

The foal found his way and latched on to nurse while the mare went back to her hay, apparently assured that Del and Beth were okay. Beth watched, fascinated. When Ginger nickered again and shook her head ever so slightly, Del held out a hand to indicate they should move out of the stall, and when they’d left, he slid the door closed and latched it.

Beth stood by the stall mesmerized by the sight of the mare and foal—she’d been horseback riding at the park north of River’s Edge when she was a kid and she and some friends had gone on a few girls’ weekend in the Smokies when she lived in Nashville that had included trail riding, but she’d never been so close to a foal before. “Ginger seems like a sweet horse. Is she yours?”

Del leaned his arms on the stall wall, gaze focused on the horse and her baby. “No, she’s one of Noel and Marie’s trail riders, but I feel sorta responsible for her.”

“Why?”

He sighed and his shoulders drooped a little. “Because I didn’t check the fences to make sure they were on. So Fireball got to her.”

Beth leaned her head to the side, trying to read his rueful expression. “This baby wasn’t planned?”

“Nope.” He drew his lower lip between his teeth.

“Did you leave the fence off?”

“Don’t think it was me, but I work this ranch. I should be aware.”

Sympathy surged through her. Poor guy. If it had been him, a mistake like that could’ve cost him his job. The fact that it didn’t said something about the Nicholses and about Del Foster. “Something good came out of it—this sweet little foal. Have they named him yet?”

The corner of his mouth lifted—almost a smile. “I named him. Flame.”

Beth laughed softly as the baby released his hold and walked under his mama and then back again before traipsing around the stall and then kicking its back legs in a baby-sized buck. “He might turn out to be a bucking horse. A bronc? Is that what you call them? The ones you ride for eight seconds?”

“Yup.” His smile turned into a grin and his dimples completely disarmed her. “He might. His daddy sure was and he’s sired several good broncs.” The affection in Del’s tone, the caring way he’d greeted each horse as they walked back down the aisle, and how they reacted to him told her how much he loved these animals. How important they were to him.

She envied the simple, but real, pleasure he found in this barn. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt passionate about anything except trying to get pregnant, something that had taken over the last ten years of her life and destroyed her marriage. Years of doctors, IVF, medical expenses, and disappointment had absorbed her so fully that she’d forgotten life could be abundant outside of the desire for a family.

There you go… hope you enjoyed this peek into Del and Beth’s story…

Gratitude for This Week: I’m better. We’re at the lake and I can swim with Mo all week. Dear friends who’ve checked on me and brought me flowers and soup and apples and muffins. The surprise  lilies are blooming! Got a big editing gig off my desk. 

Stay well, speak up when you can–it’s important, always choose kindness, and most of all, mes amis, stay grateful!