Helen Brenna - Her Sure Thing

No longer hungry, Sean threw away what was left of his sandwich. Then he put their dishes in the sink and tried to recall what Arlo had said that first day about Austin. The kid had a right to be angry, and Sean needed to be patient. Unfortunately, patience had never been his strong suit. He took a long, deep breath, went outside and found Austin waiting for him on the porch.

The kid glared at him. “So now what?”

This was going to be a damned long summer.

“So now we find out what you can do around here,” Sean said as cheerfully as he could manage.

The crew was out on the first of the afternoon trail rides, so for now it was relatively quiet in the yard. The only activity amounted to Arlo rigging a carriage until Grace walked into the yard and headed for the barn.

Suddenly, Austin’s demeanor changed. “Who’s that?”

“Grace Kahill. She’s visiting for the summer and boarding her horse here.”

“Damn.”

You could say that again.

Dressed in tight, low-slung jeans, a straw cowboy hat and tall riding boots, she looked good. The bandanna around her neck was a nice touch, too. She went into the barn, came back outside with her horse and started brushing him.

Sean cleared his throat and, pulling his gaze away from Grace, pointed to the row of saddles hanging in the back. “Okay, Austin. Let’s see what you got. Saddle this bay.”

The sullen, obstinate teen suddenly turned nervous and unsure. “I don’t know to saddle a horse.”

That didn’t make any sense. “But you can ride, right?”

“Sure. Been on plenty of trail rides and stuff on family vacations.”

Family vacations? In other words, he didn’t know diddly about diddly squat with regard to horses. “Your mom said you knew horses.”

“What can I say? She lied. So what else is new?”

Shit. “I don’t have time to teach you. And neither does Arlo or any of the rest of the crew.”

“Well, good news for you,” Austin said. “Now you have an excuse to send me home.”

“I didn’t say I was going to send you home.”

“That’s what you want though, isn’t it?”

Sean had had about all he could take. “Look. There’s enough to do around here to keep you plenty busy.” He pointed to one of the barns. “Take that wheelbarrow and shovel over there and muck out all the stalls in the livery barn.”

“Are you serious?”

“Very. Dump your loads into the manure spreader.”

“Yes, sir.” Austin mock-saluted and took off for the barn.

Arlo shook his head as he came toward Sean.

“Might as well spit it out,” Sean said.

“Seems to me you’re setting up one helluva confrontational relationship with that boy,” Arlo said under his breath. “You sure that’s what you want?”

“What I want is to not be a father.”

“Too late for that.”

“Dammit!” Denise had said he was a chip off the old block. “When I was his age I was running a trail riding operation, not working at one.”

“But is that what you want for your son?”

“He could do worse,” he said, watching Grace bring a pad and saddle outside and setting them over the nearest rail fence.

“I raised two boys here on Mirabelle,” Arlo said. “Made ’em work here at the stables every summer. They helped take care of the horses every winter. And you know what?”

Sean waited.

“Neither one of ’em ever comes to the island to visit. Oh, they came down to Florida last winter. Couldn’t wait to see me and Lynnie once we were off the island. But Mirabelle? They don’t want anything to do with this place.” Arlo started heading toward the livery barn. “Seems to me there’s an opportunity here for you two. What’s made of it is entirely up to you. Not that young man.”

Sean stood alone in the yard. Arlo was right, of course. It was up to Sean to take the first step in forging a relationship with Austin and to make whatever relationship they developed worthwhile. Still, he didn’t know where to start. How the hell could you forge a relationship with someone who didn’t want anything to do with you?

SO THE KID WAS SEAN’S SON. Interesting.

Grace had tried not to eavesdrop while she was brushing Louie, but with the rising voices, it had been difficult not to absorb a few of the somewhat startling bits of information.

She set Louie’s pad on his back, getting ready to saddle him for a ride and watched the boy attempting to muck out a stall. He’d stalked past her a few minutes earlier without the slightest acknowledgment of her presence and went into the first stall with an empty wheelbarrow and a shovel.

“How you doing, Grace?” Arlo said, his tall, bony frame ambling by her. Other than the fact that his short beard was much more gray than she remembered, he’d barely changed all these years.

“I’m fine. You, Arlo?”

“Good.” He grinned. “I’m always good. You should know that.”

Arlo went into the massive livery barn, took two of his Percherons—a matching pair of dappled grays—out of their stalls and brought them outside. Then he started prepping one to be hitched to a shuttle carriage that took groups of passengers around the island, most often from the Rock Pointe Lodge or Mirabelle Island Inn into town, or vice versa.

“Need some help?” she asked.

“If you’re offering.” He cocked his head toward one of the horses. “I got Pat here, if you can take Mike.”

“Sure.” Holding off on saddling Louie for the moment, she led him into the stall Austin had already mucked out. Then she came out to the yard, patted Mike’s neck and whispered a few words to him as she attached his bridle and collar. Spreading the leather traces along his back, she was careful not to entangle them. It was a good thing she was tall. They were big horses.

“I want to thank you for sticking your neck out with Sean and agreeing to board Louie,” she said as she adjusted the crouper. It’d been so long since someone had her back that she’d almost forgotten what it felt like, but Arlo had always been that way. Ready to stick up for her at a moment’s notice.

“Ah. No worries,” he said. “Sean might seem a bit gruff, but he’s all bark and no bite.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

“And the boy,” she said softly. “Sean’s son?”

“Ayep.”

“Came to work here for the summer, but he doesn’t know a thing about horses?”

“That so surprising?” Arlo considered the boy as he straightened Pat’s traces. “I seem to recall a certain young gal who once upon a time didn’t know her bits from her reins.”

She chuckled. “Too true.”

She and Arlo hitched Mike and Pat to the carriage, and he climbed into the driver’s seat. They both glanced at Austin. He’d dumped his first load into the spreader and was working on his second. The way he tried to keep from stepping in anything was like a poorly written comedy sketch. Either he had no clue what he was doing or he had an extreme aversion to horse manure, possibly both.

“The way I see it, somebody around here oughta take that boy under his—or her—wing,” Arlo said. “Lord knows I don’t have the time.”

“Subtle, Arlo.” She smiled. “Real subtle.”

“Whatever you’re going to do, do it quick, huh?” He made a clicking noise and tapped the reins, setting Pat and Mike off and out of the yard.

Grace glanced at Austin. He was sidestepping the manure as if it were acid. She couldn’t help laughing.

The kid glanced at her and scowled. “Oh, that’s real mature.”

“It’s just horse shit. It’s not going to jump up and bite you.”

“Easy for you to say. You like horses.”

“What are you doing here, then, if you don’t like horses?”