K.N. Casper - As Big As Texas

He smiled back, and she quickly averted her eyes.

“What’re you fixin’ to do in the meantime?” he asked.

“Since there aren’t any other vineyards around here, I’ll probably go for my teaching certificate this summer. I minored in biology in college, and there’s usually a demand for science teachers, either full-time or substitute.”

They stood at the top of the hill overlooking the barren vineyard. “What kind of irrigation will you use?”

“Drip. Grapevine roots go down rather than laterally, making it ideal as well as ecologically sound.”

He nodded, then turned and met her eyes. “If there’s anything I can do to help, labor, equipment, manpower…horsepower—” he gave her one of his playful grins “—just let me know. By the way, are we still on for Megan’s first lesson this afternoon?”

“Nothing will keep her away. If I don’t drive her there, she’ll walk. Yep, we’re still on.”

AFTER HER FIRST riding lesson that afternoon, Megan was convinced she and Birdsong were meant for each other. Ethan wasn’t sure it might not be true. The mare had always been patient and imperturbable, except when it came to water. She was the only hydrophobic horse he’d ever encountered. That aside, she was a dream ride with a long, smooth gait. Having been Angela’s horse, she was also attuned to the young and infirm, making her ideal for a novice like Megan.

For Megan’s second lesson on Wednesday, Ethan had her walk slowly around the arena for ten minutes to warm up. She may have ridden every week for a year, but she hadn’t learned much. He suspected it was the fault of the instructor, because the girl was enthusiastic and smart.

From the fence, he continued to repeat instructions on how she should hold the reins and keep her legs straight, heels down. Like most beginners she tended to correct one thing only to lose concentration on another, but she tried so earnestly, he thoroughly enjoyed teaching her.

“My friend, Heather, wishes she could come out and ride with me, too,” Megan said as Birdsong walked into a corner and stood there.

“Rein her to the left and nudge her with your feet, like I showed you. That’s right.”

“Who’s Heather?” Kayla asked. She was standing a few feet away on the other side of the fence. The day was exceptionally warm for mid-February, so instead of a jacket, she was wearing a man’s flannel shirt. In her snug jeans she was definitely eye-catching, but then she’d look good in anything. Or nothing.

Don’t even go there.

“A girl in my class.” Megan grew very serious. “Her mommy and daddy were killed in a car crash, so now she has to live with people she doesn’t know.”

“Heather Gibbs?” Ethan asked. When Megan nodded, he lowered his voice and explained to Kayla, “She and her parents were coming home from a two-week vacation in Corpus Christi last summer when a van tried to pass them. It blew out a tire and careened into their vehicle. They were pushed into on-coming traffic just as an 18-wheeler was approaching. Heather had been sleeping in the backseat and miraculously survived without a scratch.”

“But why is she living with strangers?” Kayla asked.

“As I recall neither parents had siblings, so there was no extended family to take her in.” He shook his head. “I didn’t realize Heather had ended up in foster care though. Boy, that’s rough. Keep your heels down, Megan,” he called out.

After another half hour, he decided his student had ridden long enough. Megan wouldn’t admit it but she was getting tired.

“Can I walk her out to the pasture?” she asked after she’d dismounted and was lovingly petting the animal’s neck.

“Yep,” Ethan said. “Then you have to clean her stall before we bring her in again for supper.”

“That’s easy. I don’t mind, even if it is poop.”

He laughed softly and hoped she never lost that enthusiasm. After removing the saddle and replacing the bridle with a halter, they walked Birdsong to the pasture. Once let loose, the mare whinnied to her friends and charged toward them with a kick and a fart, making Megan cup her hands over her mouth and giggle.

“I wonder if Heather’s foster parents would let her come out here to ride after school?” he mused, as he and Kayla watched Megan run to the barn.

She shook her head. “I don’t imagine they can afford lessons, and I’m sure the state would consider horseback riding a nonreimbursable luxury.”

“I don’t mean formal lessons, just come out here with Megan and ride around for a while. It’s great therapy for troubled kids. I wouldn’t charge her.”

“That’s awfully generous.”

He shrugged dismissively. “I have an old gelding she can ride. Fiddlesticks isn’t going to run away with anyone.”

“Let me make a few phone calls tonight and see what I can set up.”

WHEN HEATHER GIBBS arrived with Megan Friday afternoon, Ethan recognized her from a talk he’d given about horses at the elementary school last spring at rodeo time. The same age as Megan, she was an inch or two taller, a pretty brown-haired girl, who’d be a real beauty one day.

Ethan remembered her as a bubbly kid who’d raised her hand several times to ask good questions. Now she seemed passive and lethargic, and there was terrible sadness in her blue eyes. No wonder, after what she’d gone through. A happy little girl on vacation with her family one day, a lonely, confused orphan the next.

Ever the leader, Megan dragged her by the hand to meet Ethan. “This is my friend Heather. She’s never ridden a horse before.”

“Hello, Heather.” Ethan extended his hand. “Welcome to the Broken Spoke Ranch.”

Unsure of herself, Heather placed her hand like a paw in his. He shook it once, then let it go. She still hadn’t said a word. Ethan caught Kayla’s eye and the message that passed between them told him she was as troubled by the melancholy child as he was.

“Come on—” he did his best to sound upbeat “—let me show you around.”

They all walked over to the fence, where he pointed to the horses in the pasture. He was beginning to name them when Megan took over. He just smiled and listened, impressed by her accurate description of each: Lottie, the one with one white sock; Izzy, who had a star in the middle of her face. She rattled off the names of the paint, the bay, the sorrel and the chestnut.

“Those are the mares,” Megan explained, “the girl horses. The boy horses are kept in another pasture so they won’t fight over the girls. Come on, I’ll show you where they are.”

“Since you’ve never ridden before,” Ethan told Heather a little while later, “why don’t you watch Megan ride for a few minutes, see what she does, then if you’d like to ride, too, I’ll put you up on Fiddlesticks.”

“Birdsong is my horse,” Megan informed her. Not for the first time, Ethan suspected.

Kayla sat with Heather on the bench Carter had moved to the side of the arena. Ethan saw Kayla speak to the shy girl from time to time, but as far as he could tell Heather said virtually nothing in return.

After twenty minutes, Ethan told Megan she could ride in the arena by herself, but only at the walk.

He went over to where Heather was sitting. “Would you like to try now?”

She nodded shyly.

“Let’s go meet Fiddlesticks then.”

She took the hand he offered and together they went to the hitching post where he’d tied the gelding next to a mounting block. Knowing how intimidating a full-size horse could be to a child, he didn’t rush things.

“First, let’s get you two acquainted.” Still holding her hand, he guided her onto the first step. It was steep and she lost her balance, panicked and clung to his neck.