Putting the Heart Before the Horse Page 5

  After two flights and four hours in a car, Hope was wiped, physically and mentally exhausted. Even as a seasoned road warrior, she never stopped marveling at how tiring travel could be. She’d drifted off on the drive, waking up only when the truck turned onto a hard-packed dirt driveway.

  She blinked her eyes, and as they adjusted to the darkness outside, she saw a metal sign arching over the entrance that read “Golden Horse,” with the figure of a rearing horse underneath. At the end of the driveway, they pulled up to a big house with trucks and a few cars parked all around it.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said to Josh. “You must have had a boring ride with me sleeping half of the way.”

  He turned to flash a smile at her. “It wasn’t so bad. I had your snoring to keep me company.”

  “Snoring!” Hope gasped, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I didn’t know I snored.”

  “I’m just teasing you,” Josh said. “You were a regular Sleeping Beauty. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen, as a matter of fact.”

  At those words, her cheeks flushed with another emotion, and other parts of her heated up as well. She reminded herself that she was about to meet his family, and she didn’t want to face them looking either flustered or aroused. Instead, she took a few deep breaths and exhaled the last of them as Josh parked the truck and opened the door.

  He came around to assist her down to the ground, which was almost a necessity with her lack of height. She’d been able to calm down a little, but the feel of his hands wrapped around her waist brought all of her mixed emotions roaring back. When her feet touched the ground, she rested her forehead against his chest.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.” The word was muffled in his shirt.

  “You okay?”

  “Of course.” Hope lifted her head and took one last breath. “Let’s go.”

  They only got within five feet of the door before it flew open. “They’re here!” shrieked a young girl with the same brown eyes that Josh had. Hope was able to see the similarity because the girl immediately ran up to both of them and started talking almost without a pause for breath.

  “How was your trip? What were the planes like? I want to fly on a plane someday. You were probably on a Boeing 737 for the first flight, though maybe it was an Airbus, and then on a Bombardier, depending on how many people there were on the flight. I like saying Bombardier. I think that’s the best plane name.”

  “She likes planes,” Josh said wryly, as the girl paused for a breath. “This is my cousin Ava. Ava, say hello to Ms. Callahan.”

  “Hi Ms. Callahan I’m Ava nice to meet you I’m ten and I’m Lisa’s daughter,” Ava rattled off.

  “Uh, hi,” Hope said. “I’m...Hope.”

  “We kinda get in the habit of listing our place in the family tree,” Josh explained. “After you’ve had to answer the question twenty times—”

  “Sure,” Hope said. “That makes sense.” Already she dreaded having to remember so many names and attach them to faces.

  The house was warm inside, a pleasant contrast to the brisk night air. As they walked through the front room and headed to the kitchen, Josh kept up a rapid-fire introduction of names and relationships.

  “This is my cousin Taylor, that’s her brother Ian, over there is my cousin Connor, that’s my Aunt Allison, though I’m actually a few months older than her so it can get confusing.” She shook hands and returned nods and repeated each name she heard, as though that would help her. Even making that effort, she still immediately mixed up Mark and Matt. Too many Ms, she thought with a touch of panic.

  They reached the kitchen, a spacious room dominated by a picnic-style table and benches, with exposed ceiling beams of the same wood. The double oven she could see made it even warmer, and the bold yellow walls contributed to the feeling. In fact, she felt slightly overheated. Or maybe she just wasn’t used to so many people.

  “Rick Farris,” an older man was saying. Everything about him was gray; steel-gray hair, gunmetal eyes, faded black jeans and a gray henley. He extended his hand, and she took it gingerly, fearing one of those bone-crushing handshakes that men sometimes gave, but his touch was gentle and brief. Without realizing it, she sighed with relief and then looked up to see Rick’s mouth quirking in a half-smile.

  “Survived the first onslaught?” Rick asked.

  Hope tried to figure out a way to gracefully deny it, but gave it up as a lost cause. She settled for a weak “Nice to meet you.”

  A shrill whistle pierced the air, and she turned with a start towards the source of the noise. Josh stood at the kitchen entrance. “Everyone get in here for a second!” The few stragglers she hadn’t met yet trickled in.

  “Everyone, this is Hope, obviously.” She could tell Josh was nervous, and so could his family, judging by the chuckles that she heard. “I’m really glad she’s come here to visit so I could show her around the place and introduce her to everyone. Please be nice to her—as nice as you weirdos can manage.”

  He stopped speaking, and Hope suddenly felt everyone’s attention shift to her. Oh, God, what was she expected to do? Make a speech? She just stood there, frozen, and after a few interminable, uncomfortable seconds, the group started to disperse.

  “Hey,” Allison said, coming up to her. “I bet you would really like a chance to sit down, maybe wash your face and rest a bit before dinner.”

  Hope grasped at the lifeline. “Yes, that would be...that would be great.”

  “We got a couple of the kids to grab your bags, so everything should be waiting in your room.” The most striking thing about Allison was easily her waist-length black hair, which she was pulling up into a ponytail.

  “Do I have to share a room?” she asked, trying not to sound appalled by the prospect.

  “Uh, no,” Allison said, seemingly taken aback. “We wouldn’t do that to you. Or to anyone who came to visit us.”

  “Sorry,” Hope said, dying on the inside from embarrassment. “I just thought...I guess I don’t know what I thought.”

  “Come on, it’s just down the hall this way.” Allison walked out of the kitchen and gestured to the left. Hope followed her down the hallway to an open door that led to a small bedroom. The room contained a single bed covered with an old-fashioned quilt, a nightstand and lamp, a chest of drawers that looked at least fifty years old, and a small bookshelf under the window. Under normal circumstances, it might have made her feel claustrophobic. Instead, she was hugely relieved at the idea of having her own private space.

  Allison stepped out and grabbed the doorknob. “How about I close this?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  When the door shut, the noise level in the room dropped dramatically. She could still hear conversations, movement in the hall, the sound of the shower running in a nearby bathroom. She hadn’t expected to be so rattled, but between her nerves about her relationship with Josh and the sheer number of new people she’d just met, she felt drained and dreading any further interactions.

  Unfortunately, Josh had made it clear that dinnertime was an important ritual for the Farris family. Anyone who was around was expected to be there, unless they had a very good reason for their absence.

  Hope didn’t think “incipient panic attack because of too many damn people” would count as a good reason.

  Her suitcase stood in a corner by the chest of drawers. She spent ten minutes unpacking, putting jeans and shirts and underwear into the drawers, trying to feel a little more at home. When she cautiously poked her head out the door, the door to the bathroom across the hall stood open. She decided to get while the getting was good, striding across the hall to claim it before anyone else came along. She checked her makeup, brushed her hair, and took a few final deep breaths.

  I can do this, she told herself. I’ve traveled to China by myself and coped with Sochi during the Olympics. I can handle a family of horse shifters who may possibly be out for my blood. Metaphorically.

  The kitchen was
largely empty except for Rick and a couple of helpers. He caught sight of her from where he stood presiding over the stove, and she stepped over to him and peered to see what he had simmering in the two large stock pots.

  “Chili,” he said. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

  “Oh, no, chili sounds good.” She cast about for something else to say. “Do you all take turns cooking?”

  “I’d let the rest of them cook if they were any good,” Rick replied. “It works out better this way. Less complaining, for sure. And I take requests occasionally.”

  “Well, it smells great.” She hesitated, wondering if she might be touching on a sore subject. “Are you a shifter? Or is it rude to ask?”

  “No, it’s fine. If we were ashamed of it, we wouldn’t share it. I am a shifter. Most of us are.”

  “Only most of you?” Hope asked.

  He sprinkled something that looked like chili powder or paprika into the nearest pot, then reached for a large spoon to stir it. “Some of the in-laws aren’t, obviously. Some of them are. Some of the kids were born without it.”

  “Is it a problem?”

  “Depends what you mean by problem. It doesn’t bother me, but I may not be the one to ask. You could try talking to my brother Mark’s wife, Tammy. Their room is down the hall from yours. Both her kids are shifters, but she isn’t.” He reached for a smaller spoon, scooped up a bit of the chili, and proffered it to her. “Give it a try.”

  She took the spoon and blew on it, then tasted. “It’s good. Maybe a bit more cumin?”

  “I see you know what you’re doing,” Rick said. “Keep it up, and I may add you to the list of people allowed to help in here.”

  Hope sensed that the offer was a bigger compliment than it sounded. Rick didn’t seem like the kind of guy who joked about food. “Thanks,” she said, smiling.

  “Want to bang the dinner gong while I get the cornbread out of the oven?”

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and cocked her head at him. “There’s no gong, is there.”

  He chuckled as he set the first pan of cornbread on the stove to cool. “Good for you. People usually fall for that, the first time. I had Ian convinced for a good six months that there was a gong we were hiding from him.”

  As the crowd assembled in the kitchen and loaded up, buffet-style, Hope fell into line and collected her bowl, along with a piece of cornbread and a plate of salad. It didn’t seem like there were any designated places at the long table, just people shuffling around to accommodate others. Then she felt a hand on her elbow.

  “This way,” Josh said. He escorted her to the side of the table that faced the windows lining the wall. Seated there, she couldn’t see too much of the dark landscape outside, but she appreciated the thought. They ended up not too far from the end of one bench, Josh on her left and someone’s child on her right.

  She sat quietly and ate for a while, not attempting to enter any of the three conversations she could hear around her. The slightly spicy chili and the warm, buttery cornbread were excellent. Josh hadn’t exaggerated his uncle’s skills.

  During a lull, she turned slightly towards Josh, deep in conversation from the two people sitting across from him. She thought the woman was his Aunt Lisa, and the other one was...one of those damn names starting with an M.

  “How was the drive from the airport? Have they fixed that stretch of Route 86 yet?” he asked.

  “They’re working on it,” Josh confirmed, “but the construction means you spend about five miles going twenty miles an hour.”

  “Hope it wasn’t too bad,” M-guy said, looking at Hope.

  “Oh no, Mark, it was fine,” she said, forcing herself to smile. She had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right, after all.

  “Matt,” Josh corrected her. Wrong guess.

  “Sorry,” Hope said. Again. To yet another member of Josh’s family.

  “It’s okay,” Matt replied, though she thought he looked a little irritated at being called by the wrong name a second time. Too late, she realized that she could have just omitted the name, though that would have only delayed the inevitable.

  “I’d like to show Hope around tomorrow,” Josh said, “but before that we should probably go check on that fence in the north pasture. Does that sound good to you, Hope?”

  “Sure,” she answered, trying to get back into the conversation. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “We should also visit a couple of the barns, make sure all of the feed is okay,” Lisa added.

  “Before I got here, I thought maybe you all slept in a barn,” Hope said with a laugh, inviting them to share in the joke.

  No one laughed.

  She felt her cheeks flush scarlet, immediately aware that she’d made a terrible mistake. After a moment of silence that convinced Hope everyone had heard what she said, conversation resumed.

  "Hey.” Josh leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

  "No, it’s not!” she hissed back. "I’m about to die of embarrassment, and that is not okay!”

  Having a heated, nearly silent spat at the dinner table was maybe the only thing worse than her original mistake, so Hope pointedly did not look at Josh anymore. Instead, she pretended that she was fascinated by the discussion Rick and Allison were having about cattle feed. As soon as she felt it she could politely leave, she thanked Rick for dinner and retreated to her room.

  What a disaster. In her nervousness, she’d said something offensive and probably ruined any chances of Josh’s family liking her. Why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut? They must think I’m an idiot and a bigot. I should never have come, she thought. She considered going to bed, but she knew she’d only lie there and replay the humiliating incident over and over in her head.

  Then she remembered a suggestion Rick had made earlier that evening. It was worth a try.

  Down a bit from her bedroom and across the hall, Hope saw an open door. Classical music—something with a piano—drifted out. She walked up and peeked inside, and based on Rick’s directions, she was pretty sure she had the right person. She tapped gently on the door.

  “Tammy, right?”

  The red-haired woman sitting at a desk turned around, and her freckled face lit up with a smile. “Hope! Hi.”

  “Am I interrupting you? I don’t want to bother you if you’re studying.”

  “No, it’s a perfect time for a break. Come on in.” Tammy paused the music and stood and stretched her arms over her head. She was even shorter than Hope, who was unused to looking down at anyone. “I have finals coming up before too long. It feels like I’m spending my whole life in this room.” She gestured Hope to the empty chair next to the desk and sat down on the edge of her bed.

  “What are you studying?” Hope asked. The laptop screen showed pie charts and a spreadsheet, the kind of stuff that had always given Hope hives.

  “I’m getting an MBA online. I’ve been doing small-business consulting for a few places in town, and I want to be able to expand to some of the bigger cities around here. Fort Collins, Cheyenne, even Denver and Boulder.”

  “Wow,” Hope said. “That’s great.”

  “Josh said you’re a writer?”

  “Yeah, freelance. Magazine articles, a lot of travel stuff. Some biographical profiles.”

  “That sounds like a lot of fun,” Tammy said.

  “It is. But it can also be tiring.”

  “And a little lonely?” asked Tammy, knowingly.

  “Maybe,” Hope admitted. “I mean, I did sign up with a matchmaker.”

  “And look at what you got.”

  “Was it easy for you? Not being a shifter?”

  “That’s not the hard part. Marriage is hard. Raising kids is hard. Digging holes for fence posts is really hard.” Tammy scooted back to the head of the bed and leaned back on the pillows resting against the headboard. “I grew up here, in town, and went to school with all of the Farris brothers and sisters. That doesn’t mean I
didn’t freak out when I turned eighteen and Mark told me on our first date that we were destined to be together.”

  Hope winced, remembering how that conversation had gone with Josh. “It’s a lot to take in.”

  “Tell me about it. Here’s your hamburger, with a side of soul mate.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I may have thrown a glass of water in his face.” Tammy laughed and buried her face in her hands, so that her next words came out muffled. “It sounded like one hell of a pickup line.”

  “No!” Hope gasped.

  “And he’s never let me forget it. But it’s not a pickup line, of course. It’s a tremendous gift, if you’re brave enough to accept it.”

  “How so?”

  “Think about it.” Her voice softened, her tone almost reverent. “You’ll never have to doubt his love for you. You’ll never wonder if you made a mistake. Whatever challenges you face, you’ll face them together.”

  Hope looked around the room. The walls were covered with framed family photos. Mark, Tammy, Ian, and Taylor outside a building she recognized as the woodworking shed. Tammy with her arm slung around the neck of a bay horse with a white blaze on his face. Taylor and Ian in the middle of a group of young kids, all of them looking sweaty, a little dirty, and incredibly happy.

  The room was filled with love, just as the whole house was. Sometimes it showed itself in photos. Sometimes it was a child’s artwork pinned to the cork message board in the kitchen. It was the boisterous noise when they gathered at dinner, the teasing and the bickering, and the willingness to open their home to a woman they didn’t know.

  Hope found tears gathering in her eyes; she quickly brushed them away. “Was it that obvious I needed a pep talk?”

  “Who wouldn’t, in your situation?” Tammy stood and came over to where Hope was sitting. Reaching down, she took Hope’s hand in hers. “Look, I can’t tell you if you and Josh will be happy together. But I hope you’ll give it a chance, at least.”

  “I’m doing my best,” Hope said. “I hope it works out.”

  “Glad to hear it.” She released Hope’s hand and moved back to her desk chair.