Nicholas Evans - The Horse Whisperer

After the vet had left, Tom showered, put on a clean shirt and set off through the rain for Hank's place. It was coming down so thick, the old Chevy's wipers all but gave in and Tom had to peer with his nose to the glass to negotiate a way through the flooded craters of the old gravel road. There were so many cars when he got there that he had to park right out on the driveway and if he hadn't worn his slicker he'd have been soaked by the time he got to the barn.

As soon as he walked in, Hank saw him and came over with a beer. Tom laughed at the T-shirt and even as he took off his slicker, realized he was already scanning the faces for Annie. The barn was large but still too small for all the folk packed into it. There was country music playing, almost drowned by the sound of talk and laughter. People were still eating. Every now and then the wind would drive a cloud of smoke from the barbecue in through the open doors. Mostly people ate standing up because the tables hauled in from outside were still wet.

While he chatted with Hank and a couple of other guys, Tom let his eyes travel the room. One of the empty stalls on the far side had been turned into a bar and he could see Frank helping out behind it. Some of the older kids, including Grace and Joe, were gathered around the sound system, going through the box of tapes and groaning at the embarrassing prospect of their parents trying to dance to the Eagles and Fleetwood Mac. Nearby Diane was telling the twins for the last time to quit throwing food or she'd take them right home. There were many faces Tom knew and many who greeted him. But there was only one he was looking for and at last he saw her.

She stood in the far corner with an empty glass in her hand, talking with Smoky who'd come up from New Mexico where he'd been working since Tom's last clinic. It was Smoky who seemed to be doing most of the talking. Every so often Annie glanced around the room and Tom wondered if she was looking for anyone in particular and if so whether it might be him. Then he told himself not to be such a damn fool and went and got himself some food.

Smoky knew who Annie was as soon as they were introduced. 'You're the one done call him when we were doing the Marin County clinic!' he said. Annie smiled.

That's right.'

'Hell, I remember him calling me when he came back from New York saying there was no way he was going to work with that horse. Now here y'all are.'

'He changed his mind.'

'Ma'am, he sure must of. Ain't never seen Tom do something he didn't want.'

Annie asked him questions about his work with Tom and what went on at the clinics and it was clear from the way he spoke that Smoky worshiped the ground Tom walked. He said there were quite a few people now doing clinics and things but not one of them was in the same league, or even close. He told her about things he'd seen Tom do, horses he'd helped that most folk would have taken out and shot.

'When he lays his hands on them you can see all the trouble just kind of fall out of them.'

Annie said he hadn't done this yet with Pilgrim and Smoky said that must be because the horse wasn't yet ready.

'It sounds like magic,' she said.

'No ma'am. It's more than magic. Magic's just tricks.'

Whatever it was, Annie had felt it. She'd felt it when she watched Tom work, when she rode with him. In truth, she felt it almost every moment she was with him.

It was this that she had contemplated yesterday morning when she woke with Grace still sleeping beside her and saw the dawn spilling in through the faded drapes that now hung unmoving. For a long time she'd lain quite still, cradled in the calm of her daughter's breathing. Once, from a distant dream, Grace murmured something that Annie labored in vain to decipher.

It was then she'd noticed, among the pile of books and magazines beside the bed, the copy of Pilgrim's Progress Liz Hammond's cousins had given her. She hadn't opened it nor had she any idea that Grace had brought it in here. Annie slipped quietly from the bed and took it to the chair by the window where there was just enough light to read.

She remembered listening wide-eyed to the story as a child, captivated on a simple literal level by the story of little Christian's heroic journey to the Celestial City. Reading it now, the allegory seemed obvious and clumsy. But there was a passage near the end that made her pause.

Now I saw in my dream that by this time the pilgrims were got over the Enchanted Ground and entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was very sweet and pleasant; the way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves there for a season. Yea, here they heard continually the singing of birds and saw every day the flowers appear in the earth and heard the voice of the turtle in the land. In this country the sun shineth night and day; wherefore this was beyond the Valley of the Shadow of Death and also out of the reach of Giant Despair; neither could they from this place so much as see Doubting Castle. Here they were within sight of the City they were going to, also here met some of the inhabitants thereof. For in this land the Shining Ones commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of Heaven.

Annie read the passage three times and read no farther. It was this that had led her to call Diane to ask if she and Grace could come to church. However, the urge - so wildly out of character that it made even Annie laugh - had little, if anything, to do with religion. It had to do with Tom Booker.

Annie knew that somehow he had set the scene for what had happened. He had unlocked a door through which she and Grace had found each other. 'Don't let her turn you away,' he'd told her. And she hadn't. Now she simply wanted to give thanks, but in a ritualized way that wouldn't embarrass anyone. Grace had teased her when she told her, asking how many centuries it was since she'd last seen the inside of a church. But she said it with affection and was plainly happy to come along.

Annie's head refocused on the party. Smoky didn't seem to have noticed her drifting. He was in the middle of some long, involved story about the man who owned the ranch he was working at down in New Mexico. While Annie listened she went back to doing what she'd spent most of the evening doing, looking out for Tom. Maybe he wasn't coming after all.

Hank and the other men cleared the tables out into the rain again and the dancing began. The music was louder now and still country so that, led by the most streetwise among them, the kids could keep up their groaning, no doubt secretly relieved at not having to dance themselves. Laughing at your parents was a whole lot more fun than having them laugh at you. One or two of the older girls had broken ranks and were dancing and the sight suddenly had Annie worried. Stupidly, until now, it hadn't occurred to her that seeing others dance might upset Grace. She made an excuse to Smoky and went to find her.

Grace was sitting by the stalls with Joe. They saw Annie coming and Grace whispered something to him that made him grin. It was gone from his face by the time Annie got there. He stood up to greet her.

'Ma'am, would you like to dance?'

Grace burst out laughing and Annie gave her a suspicious glance.

'This is entirely unprompted of course,' she said.

'Of course ma'am.'

'And not, by any remote chance, a dare?'

'Mom! That's so rude!' Grace said. 'What a terrible thing to suggest!' Joe kept a perfect straight face.

'No ma'am. Absolutely not.'

Annie looked again at Grace who now read her mind.

'Mom, if you think I'm going to dance with him to this music, forget it.'

'Then thank you Joe. I'd be delighted.'

So they danced. And Joe danced well and even though the other kids hooted he didn't turn a hair. It was while they were dancing that she saw Tom. He was watching her from the bar and waved and the sight of him gave her such a teenage thrill that at once she felt embarrassed because maybe it showed.