Nicholas Evans - The Horse Whisperer

They chatted for a while over the golf sweaters, swapping information on destinations, estimated arrivals and the properties of fog. Robert was oblique and guarded about why he was in Europe, not because it was secret but because he could see how frustrated it made Freddie. And so it was perhaps revenge for this that motivated the man's closing remarks.

'I hear Annie's got herself a Gates problem,' he said.

'I'm sorry?'

Freddie put a hand to his mouth and made a face like a guilty schoolboy.

'Oops. Maybe we're not supposed to know.'

'I'm sorry Freddie, you're way ahead of me.'

'Oh, it's just a little bird told me Crawford Gates is out headhunting again. Probably not a word of truth in it.'

'How do you mean, headhunting?'

'Oh, you know how it's always been at that place, musical chairs and shoot the pianist. I just heard he was giving Annie a hard time, that's all.'

'Well, it's the first I've—'

'Just gossip. Shouldn't have mentioned it.' He gave a satisfied grin and, having fulfilled what may indeed have been the sole purpose of the encounter, said he'd better get back to the airline desk to do some more complaining.

Back in the business lounge Robert helped himself to another beer and flipped through a copy of The Economist , mulling over what Freddie had said. Although he'd played ingenuous, he'd known right away what the man was getting at. It was the second time in a week that he'd heard it.

The previous Tuesday he'd been at a reception given by one of his firm's big clients. It was the kind of do he normally made excuses to avoid but which, with Annie and Grace away, he'd actually found himself looking forward to. It was held in several sumptuous acres of office near Rockefeller Center with mountains of caviar high enough to ski on.

Whatever the latest collective noun for a gathering of lawyers was (they came up with a new and more disparaging one each week), there was certainly one of them here. There were many faces from other law firms that Robert recognized and he guessed the host's motive for inviting them all was to keep his own firm on their toes. Among the other lawyers was Don Farlow. They'd only met once before but Robert liked him and knew Annie did too and that she rated him highly.

Farlow greeted him warmly and Robert was pleased to find as they chatted that they shared not just an appetite bordering on greed for caviar, but a wholesomely cynical attitude about those who'd provided it. They staked a claim beside the nursery slopes and Farlow listened sympathetically while Robert told him how the litigation over Grace's accident was progressing - or rather not progressing, for it was getting so complicated it seemed destined to drag on for years. Then the talk moved on. Farlow asked after Annie and how things were going out west.

'Annie's sensational,' said Farlow. 'The very best. The crazy thing is, that asshole Gates knows that.'

Robert asked him what he meant and Farlow looked surprised and then embarrassed. He quickly changed the subject and the only other thing he said, as he went, was that Robert should tell Annie to come back soon. Robert had gone straight home and called Annie. She'd made light of it.

'That place is Paranoia Palace,' she said. Oh sure, Gates had been giving her a hard time, but no more than usual. 'The old bastard knows he needs me more than I need him.'

Robert had let it drop, even though he felt that her bravado seemed intended more to convince herself than him. Now if Freddie Kane knew about it, it was a safe bet that most of New York knew too or soon would. And though this wasn't Robert's world, he'd seen enough of it to know which was more important: what was said or what was true.

Hank and Darlene normally held their barn dance on the Fourth of July. But this year Hank was scheduled to have his varicose veins fixed at the end of June and didn't fancy hobbling around so they'd hauled it back a month or so to Memorial Day.

There was risk involved. A few years back, two feet of snow had fallen this very weekend. And some Hank had invited felt a day set aside to honor those who'd died for their country wasn't a suitable day for a celebration at all. Hank said shit, come to that, celebrating independence was pretty dumb too when you'd been married as long as him and Darlene, and anyway, all those he knew who'd gone to Vietnam liked a damn good party, so what the hell?

Just to show him, it rained.

Rivers of it slid off billowing tarpaulins to hiss among the burgers, ribs and steaks on the barbecue and a fuse box exploded with a flash and snuffed all the colored lights strung around the yard. No one seemed to mind too much. They all just packed into the barn. Someone gave Hank a T-shirt which he immediately put on; it had ,' Told You printed on the front in big black letters.

Tom was late arriving because the vet couldn't get out to the Double Divide till after six. He'd given the little filly another shot and thought that would do it. They were still busy with her when the others left for the party. Through the open doors of the barn he'd seen all the kids piling into the Lariat with Annie and Grace. Annie had waved to him and asked if he was coming. He told her he'd be along later. He was pleased to see she was wearing the dress she'd worn two nights before.

Neither she nor Grace had spoken a word about what had happened that night. On Sunday he'd risen before dawn and dressed in the dark and seen Annie's blinds still open and the lights still on. He'd wanted to go on up and see if everything was okay but thought he'd leave it awhile in case it seemed nosy. When he'd finished seeing to the horses and came in for breakfast, Diane said Annie had just called to ask if it would be alright if she and Grace came with them to church.

'Probably just wants to write it up in her magazine,' Diane said. Tom told her he thought that was unfair and that she should give Annie a break. Diane hadn't spoken to him for the rest of the day.

They'd all driven to church in two cars and it was clear at once, to Tom at least, that something had changed between Annie and Grace. There was a stillness there. He noticed how when Annie spoke Grace now looked her in the eyes and how, after they'd parked the cars, the two of them linked arms and walked together all the way to the church.

There wasn't room for them all in one row, so Annie and Grace had sat a row in front where a shaft of sun angled down from a window, trapping slow convections of dust. Tom could see the other churchfolk looking at the newcomers, the women as much as the men. And he found his own eyes kept returning to the nape of Annie's neck when she stood to sing or tilted her head in prayer.

Back at the Double Divide later, Grace had ridden Gonzo again, only this time in the big arena with everyone watching. She walked him awhile then, when Tom told her to, took him up to a trot. She was a little tight at the start, but once she relaxed and found the feel, Tom could see how sweetly she rode. He told her a couple of things about the way she was using her leg and when it all clicked, he said to go ahead and move on up to a lope.

'A lope!'

'Why not?'

So she did and it was fine and as she opened her hips and moved with the motion he saw the grin break out on her face.

'Shouldn't she be wearing a hat?' Annie had asked him quietly. She meant one of those safety helmets people wore in England and back east and he'd said well no, not unless she was planning on falling off. He knew he should have taken it more seriously, but Annie seemed to trust him and left it at that.

Grace slowed in perfect balance and brought Gonzo to an easy stop before them and everyone clapped and cheered. The little horse looked like he'd won the Kentucky Derby. And Grace's smile was wide and clear as a morning sky.