In the Lyrics (8 page)

“Wow. Now that is horrible. We might be able to rectify that situation this summer. I’m actually an expert fisherman, if I do say so myself.”

“I’m sure ya are.” I can tell he doesn’t know what to think of my statement. Frankly, neither do I. He probably is a great fisherman, but…
why are my thoughts so jumbled up when he is near?

“Anyways, we’re here.” Turning on my right turn signal, the steady sound of Betsy’s clicking signal fills the awkward air that lingers between us. Small talk has never been something I’ve needed to be good at. Since Dusty is one of my only friends, we talk all the time. There’s never much silence when we’re around each other, so this is new territory for me. Colby and I are complete strangers; hell, I couldn’t even tell you his middle name. I foresee a lot of small talk in our future.
Great.

“You’re taking me to a farm? Do you have some point to prove? I’m a
real
cowboy. I’ll admit it.” He grins, but it’s fake, like he is only doing it to seem like a gentleman. I don’t speak, instead I continue to press the accelerator and drive forward. “Do you want me to rope some cattle or something? I mean, I will…if that’s what you want. But if it’s just because you don’t think I can, I won’t do it. So what’s it going to be, Sunshine?”

Bringing him here isn’t really about him at all. I do find it funny that he assumes it’s because I don’t think he can ride a flipping horse. Putting the car into park, I point at a meadow with horses and three children all standing around wearing helmets and protective vests, and the biggest smiles I’ve ever seen. “Shut up already and look.”

Colby looks into the field and then back at me. His expression is muddled at first, like he doesn’t quite believe where we are or that places like this exist. And then he looks…depressed? I notice his eyes gloss over before he abruptly turns his head back towards the window.

“Welcome to Whispering Hills Therapeutic Riding Center. I work here.”

“I thought you worked with Dusty at that burger place?”

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I answer him, “I do, but during the summers I also work here part-time.”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” His voice is low and unyielding, not like his normal charismatic tone. He doesn’t turn back around to face me. Instead his eyes stay locked looking out the window. I can see his reflection in the glass. He doesn’t look as cheerful as I would have hoped. I wonder why.

We both exit the car. “Look, if this is too much, just tell me. I have a three-hour shift today, but you can take my car and I’ll grab a ride from Logan. I just figured since you are all country and shit, you might enjoy being on a farm. It might remind ya of home or something.”

“That’s the problem. It
does
remind me of home.”

Digging my boot into the gravel, my hands fidget. Not knowing what to say isn’t something I’m used to. Very seldom do I feel at a loss for words.

“You know, Hensley,” he reaches and grabs my hand, his body now closing the distance between us. As much as I want to pull away, I don’t. “I really appreciate you being so thoughtful. This might actually be what I needed. Thank you.”

Looking down at our interlaced fingers, my mind is yelling at me to let go, but my heart is telling me to grip his hand more tightly. Why do I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place? Like the thought of actually letting loose and being carefree, or having a little…a very tiny, innocent crush, means I’m damned to this town. There are so many things I’ve never allowed myself to experience – homecoming dances, college parties, all of the fun, normal stuff that people my age are doing. And I’m missing all that for what? A hope that one day some big time producer is going to waltz into my itty-bitty town and whisk me away right into the limelight? It hasn’t happened yet, and it may never happen, so maybe I need to think of the alternative for once. Maybe I’ll be just like my mother, stuck in this town when her heart is somewhere else.

“Yeah, umm, you’re welcome.” Swallowing, I choose to follow this unfamiliar feeling in my gut for once and grasp his hand more tightly.

We walk hand in hand into the building and I suddenly regret my decision to bring him here with me. Mrs. Blair is staring at Colby like he just jumped straight off the pages of a magazine. He is attractive with his American boy good looks, don’t get me wrong, but geez, she’s acting like she’s never seen a boy with dimples before.

Approaching the big, wooden desk in the middle of the room I open my mouth to make formal introductions, “Mrs. Blair, this is Colby; Colby, this is Mrs. Blair. She and her husband own this fancy establishment, and their son, Logan, is out there with today’s kids already. You might have seen him when we drove in.”

Colby holds out his hand in front of him, “Good morning, Mrs. Blair, this is a nice place you have here. I really appreciate you letting me tag along with Hensley today.”

Her cheeks redden before he is even done with his sentence. “Well, honey, the pleasure is all mine. We really wish Hensley all the best, and well, by the looks of it, she’s found it in you.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

“How long have y’all been an item? I haven’t heard anything, so this is big news to me,” Mrs. Blair probes.

In unison we both blurt, “We’re not dating.”

She looks lost, and I feel like a fool.

“I appreciate your compliments, ma’am. Will you excuse me while I find the restroom?”

“Go straight down that hallway and take a left. The men’s room is the first door on the right, darlin’.”

Once Colby is far enough away, I open my mouth to scold Mrs. Blair, but her hand flies up in front of my face before my lips even have time to part. “Now don’t you go pushin’ this one away, you hear me, Hensley Bradley? I don’t care what you do or don’t claim, but I saw that sparkle in your eye, so don’t play me for a fool, young lady. I saw y’all holding hands. He seems like a real nice man, and that’s just what the doctor ordered for ya. Make sure he has on steel toe boots and get out there; Logan’s waiting to start. And if he gives you any trouble, make sure you let me know. I’ve told that boy time and time again, you don’t feel the same way ‘bout him.”

Knowing there is no arguing with her, I am secretly relieved Colby had to go to the bathroom. It feels like it’s been nothing but awkward between us, and the last thing I want to do is add to the ever growing list of weirdness. Mrs. Blair salivating at the mouth like a starved animal, yeah, that’s pretty weird. And her assumptions about us dating, yeah, that’s way off too. Shaking my head, I give her a wink, letting her know I’m fine and then walk the few feet to the back door of the building. Colby is grown, and I have no doubt she’ll help him find his way out here if he gets lost. The thought makes me cringe but he is amazingly handsome. I guess it’s normal.

NEEDING A MOMENT to regain my composure, I excuse myself to the restroom. Once inside, my hand fumbles with the lock until it latches, and I lean against the wood paneled wall. Feeling a surge of sadness rush through me, I run my hands through my hair and try to shake it off.

There is an oval mirror hanging above the sink. Looking up, I see my reflection. My face looks pale as if I’ve seen a ghost, but I don’t know why I feel so dismayed. It’s not like she knows about me or my brother. Honestly, I’m sad more than anything. I wish we would have known about this place when Levi was with us. He would have loved it. Yes, we did our best to involve him as much as possible on our farm, but we didn’t have the tools to make him completely comfortable like it seems this place could have done. I miss him every second of every day.

Realizing I’ve been gone for a while, I toss my wet paper towel in the garbage and walk back down the hall. Much to my surprise, Hensley is nowhere in sight.

“She went ahead outside to get the class going, honey.” Mrs. Blair points to a door in the back of the room. She winks at me, causing an eerie chill to run down my spine.

Opening the door, I take a few steps down and walk out to an open field. About three yards away I see Hensley jump on some dude’s back. It looks like he is tickling her, and she is laughing. My ears start to burn as my temper ignites. I know I’m a fool. I have no grounds to be angry, but I thought, I don’t know…I thought maybe she was a little into me too. After all we did hold hands; she had to have felt the connection – it was palpable. This girl is making me crazy and we’ve only just met.

As I approach the group of three small children, the dude helps guide Hensley’s body back down his back. She turns around to see me staring. Attempting to hide my anger, I look away and break eye contact with her. She notices.

“Glad you could finally join us, Colby. Everyone,” she holds her hands out in front of her and points to me. “This is my friend and he is going to be joining us today. Is that okay?” Only one child speaks up. He looks about six. The other two simply shake their heads.

“I’m Joshua!” the small boy says enthusiastically as he waves at me.

Bending down so we can be at eye level, I hold my hand out in front of me. “Nice to meet you, partner.” His smile melts my heart and makes me think of Levi. God, how I wish it were his hand I was holding and his pure eyes I was looking into.

“Well, now that everyone knows who our guest is, let’s get in a single file line,” Hensley instructs.

Joshua runs in front of the other two children.

“Me, me, Logan! I wanna go first.”

Logan? Isn’t that who Hensley said could bring her home if I decided to leave? I don’t want him driving her anywhere, especially with what I just saw.

“Didn’t you go first last time?” the dude questions Joshua. He isn’t much bigger than me, in build that is, but he is shorter, about a head or so. His hair is dark and matches his tan complexion. I bet he is part Indian or something.

“Yes, sir,” Joshua sulks while looking down towards the grass.

“All right, you get to go first again, but this is the last time, and then it’s Leslie’s turn to go first, okay?”

“K, Logan.”

I watch as the dude I now know as Logan helps Joshua up and onto a salt-and-pepper colored horse. As soon as he sets him in the saddle, Joshua’s white helmet falls to the ground, startling the horse. It’s like everything goes into slow motion, and before I know it, the horse rears back and Joshua slides off of him. My eyes register him falling, as if in slow motion, and he lands on his butt with a thump. In a matter of seconds, Joshua is crying, the horse is bolting, and Hensley is standing, still and in shock. Immediately I push the other two children behind my back. If just the noise of the helmet hitting the ground startled the horse, I don’t want them to get hurt next. Joshua’s cries grow louder as Logan tries to control the wild mare.

“Oh my God! Code white!” I hear Hensley shriek into a walkie-talkie she has hooked on her belt. Bending down, I start to examine Joshua. There doesn’t appear to be any serious damage, just a scratch on his forearm and a few tiny droplets of blood from the scrape caused by the impact. He looks frightened as he peers into my eyes. Leaning down, I scoop him up into my arms, also grabbing one of the other kid’s hands.

“Joshua, I need you to hold tight around my neck, okay?” He nods. When he does, I take a second to take the smaller child’s hand and raise it up, intertwining her hand with my belt loop. “All right, come on, guys, let’s go get Joshua cleaned up.” The two kids follow me step by step as I hold one’s hand, and the other holds onto my jeans belt loop. Holding Joshua up with one arm isn’t a problem; he’s pretty light. His arms grip around my neck as his small body bounces on my arm from my movement.

I don’t look back. I’m sure Logan can tame the horse, and Hensley, well, she looked stunned to say the least. I know children with disabilities all too well, and I know I needed to get all three of them out of that environment. Sometimes kids with special needs get frightened easily, and let’s face it, they all looked pretty shaken up.

We reach the stairs as Mrs. Blair is opening the door with a wet rag and an ice pack. Holding her arms out, she reaches for Joshua.

“It’s okay, ma’am. I’ve got him.”

She opens the door wider so I can move past her and go inside. Walking into the same open room we were in earlier, I place Joshua on the sofa, and pick up the two other kids, and sit them next to him. They don’t talk. “Now would it be okay if I looked at your arm, Joshua?” He doesn’t say anything. He must be really upset. Not talking is something I’m used to. Levi would sometimes go days without speaking. We just had to come up with other ways of communication. Holding my thumb in the air, I silently ask for his permission. He mimics my hand gesture and I know it’s okay to look at his arm. “There’s just a little scrape here,” I point to the area, and his eyes follow.

“Where did you learn how to communicate with children like Joshua?” Mrs. Blair asks, choosing her words carefully.

Looking around, I see that we are the only adults in here. Hensley must be outside still trying to tame the horse with Logan, so I feel safe saying, “My little brother had Asperger’s syndrome.”

I can tell when people notice I use the word “had” and not “has.”