Kate Sherwood - Dark Horse 02 - Out of the Darkness (45 page)

Evan laughs. “You just kept leaving the room every time Gollum came on! ‘Hey, anyone need another beer?’ ‘Oh, sorry, Tat, I should have got you a soda.’ ‘Damn, too much beer, gotta go to the bathroom.’ ‘Are there still chips in the kitchen?’” He grins over at Tat. “It wasn’t even me who noticed it—Tat thought you hated the movie. Which upset her, because she was the one who’d chosen it.” Evan knows how to soften Dan up.

But this time it won’t work, because Dan can still remember her satanic expression as she’d stalked him. “I
did
hate the movie!” He points the spatula. “Bad choice, Tat! Bad, bad choice!”

Tat just shrugs. “I guess it
was
rated PG-13—maybe we’ll stick to just PG from now on, okay?”

If it was anyone other than Tat, Dan would have a clear answer to that, telling them exactly what they can “stick” where. But with Tat, he’s pretty much baffled. “Maybe we should,” he manages, and then goes back to his bacon.

He feels a little better when Jeff shifts over to stand behind him. “Morning,” he murmurs, kissing the back of Dan’s neck.

Dan growls in response, because Jeff really hadn’t been too helpful earlier, but he turns his head, giving Jeff access to more neck. Then he turns back, because the way Jeff is kissing him is not conducive to non-burned bacon. Or to traditional family values, considering that Tat is watching them pretty interestedly out of the corner of her eye. Jeff seems to get the message, because his final kiss is just a quick peck, and then he’s back to supervising Tat’s waffle cooking.

Nobody really thinks they have room for eggs, but they do make a pretty good dent in the rest of the food, and Tat’s culinary efforts are suitably admired. Jeff and Evan clean up and follow Tat’s instructions for freezing Dan’s goody bags while Dan follows Tia’s instructions for getting the turkey in the oven. Tia has everything prepared as much as humanly possible, and Dan isn’t sure whether to be relieved or a little insulted that she thought he couldn’t handle it. Then he thinks back to his recent cooking lessons with the patient woman and concludes that the proper response is definitely relief. So he drains the bird out of its new, short brine bath, stuffs the seasoning in the cavity, rubs the skin with the
other
seasoning (all clearly labeled, of course), and slaps the slabs of bacon on before shoving the whole thing in the oven. The other bird is reserved for Evan’s deep-frying fun, so they’re ready to go.

Of course, as soon as three of them have their boots and jackets on, the fourth decides that a last trip to the bathroom might be good, and then one remembers that there are special Thanksgiving treats to be brought to the horses, and then the first one decides that a heavier jacket is needed, and maybe somebody should grab some dog biscuits so they don’t feel left out at treat time. Jeff and Dan are left waiting by the door; they’ve gotten used to working around the Kaminski interpretation of “ready to go.” By the time they’ve gathered the dogs and are heading to the barn, they’re running a little late.

It turns out okay, though, because Robyn has brought their horses in for them already, so that’s less work required. Chris is already there, too, and Ginger, the quarter horse mare he’d brought when he moved out from Kentucky, is in the crossties. Anna’s hanging around, chatting with Chris and Robyn. There’s no one there who isn’t part of the daily crowd, so no special greetings are needed, and in a way it seems a bit anticlimactic, like Thanksgiving should be a bigger deal somehow, but then Dan figures it’s just as it should be; they’re all lucky that the people they care about are so close. And then that almost trips him up, sends him onto a train of thought that he’s been trying to avoid all day—all week, really—but he busies himself with helping Tat dole out the treats, and the moment passes, just as so many others have.

Evan’s fussing over his Friesian-Percheron cross, arguing that Samson deserves an extra serving of treat because he’s bigger, and Jeff and Robyn are tacking up Juno and Copper, the just-for-messingaround-on quarter horses. Anna and Tat have the two new Hanoverian mares, both injured out of their eventing careers but fit for hacking; their bloodlines are good, and the vet will decide in January whether they’re sound enough for breeding, able to give Tat the foals she has her heart set on. And Dan has Smokey. The quarter horse has come to be the pet of all the barn, human and animal alike, and as Dan leads the stocky animal down the aisle, he stretches his nose out to each of his friends; two legs or four, they all have noses and therefore all deserve a greeting. The three dogs even get a little of his attention.

It’s not long before they’re saddled up and heading out through the pine forest and then up to the hill. Nobody’s jumping today or even riding fast, just keeping in the herd and enjoying each other’s company. Chris and Robyn are riding close, and Dan’s keeping an eye on that; he’s warned Chris repeatedly that Robyn isn’t fair game for Chris’s typical “love ’em and leave ’em” routine, and Dan wants to be sure Chris has been listening. Tat and Anna both seem to be trying to get Robyn alone, probably for a little gossip; Dan wonders if there’s been a new development or if they just want to check in. He’s not sure he wants to know.

They ride right around the perimeter of the property and then through the middle, and Dan starts to worry that he should maybe get back and check on his turkey, but at the same time, it’s nice to be out in the fresh air on a good horse surrounded by good people. He figures the turkey is probably fine, and it’s not like he’d really know how to fix it if it isn’t. No one else seems to be in a hurry to get in, either, and the horses are all enjoying their exercise, so everyone’s happy.

The dogs flush out a small covey of quail, and the Hanoverians spook a little while the quarter horses look on with bored amusement, like parents watching children play the same game for the hundredth time. Samson acts like he wants to charge the underbrush and deal with the threat; sometimes Samson takes his warhorse lineage a little too seriously, and Dan thinks Evan encourages him. “You’re not a knight, Evan.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean you aren’t my pretty princess, Danny.” Evan’s clearly been spending
way
too much time with Chris.

Eventually, they circle back around to the barn. There’s some friendly squabbling over positions in the crossties, but it’s not like anyone’s going to be in them for long; the horses haven’t worked up even a little sweat, so they’re pretty much just getting untacked and hoofpicked then turned out. Smokey groundties, so Dan untacks him in the yard; it’s easier, really, and it’s nice to stay out in the fresh air.

Once everyone’s turned out, Robyn needs to do a quick check on the other horses in their paddocks, and Anna and Tat quickly volunteer to stay and keep her company. Chris rolls his eyes a little, obviously aware that he’s going to be at least one of their subjects of conversation, but he doesn’t seem too upset about it, so the women stay behind while the men head back to work in the kitchen.

The walk is mostly quiet, and Dan wishes that it wasn’t, because quiet doesn’t seem to be working too well for him, not today. There are too many memories, too many Thanksgivings, all ready to pop into his mind as soon as it stills. And he’d rather that didn’t happen. So… Chris.

“Hey, Chris, you’re Evan’s conjoined twin—so how do you manage to not go to the gym with him? Or do you go and just watch
him
work out?” Chris arches an eyebrow at him, and Dan shakes his head. “’Cause, okay, part of the problem is that you’ve never taught Ginger to leg-yield properly, but, come on—she was wandering all over that path. Are your legs honestly so far gone that you can’t even make her walk straight?”

Chris looks like maybe he knows what Dan’s doing, picking a fight as a distraction. Dan had figured he might; it’s not like Chris didn’t have a hell of a lot more Thanksgivings with Justin than Dan did. “Yeah, Danny, well… some of us are able to just go for a walk and enjoy the scenery without worrying about little details like that.” He doesn’t seem to have more to say about that topic, but he does have a diatribe about a few of Dan’s other character flaws, so that’s good, and they bicker most of the way back to the house.

And once they’re there, there’s turkey work to do and Tia’s exhaustive checklist to consult. Then Jeff’s heating up apple cider, and Dan’s never had that before. He thinks that apple juice is gross cold and can’t imagine it being better if it’s hot, which seems likely to make it even closer to the piss it so clearly resembles, but Jeff has a series of arguments, starting with “It’s cider, not juice,” and ending with “Shut up, you’ll like it.”

That last one is pretty hard to formulate a reasoned response to, so Dan gives up and sits down on the floor to talk to Lou.
She
knows not to drink piss. Although she does drink out of the toilet, so maybe her standards aren’t that high after all.

The women arrive then, and it’s not that cold out, but they still manage to be rosy-cheeked and beautiful, bringing their lighter laughter and softer voices to the gathering. Everyone has signed up to make a dish, and they’ve dropped any specialty items off in the kitchen in the days proceeding, so now there’s just some happy negotiations for counter space and fridge access as everyone gets to work. Luckily, Tia’s kitchen is roughly the size of Dan’s apartment, so there’s no real crowding. There’s a big stone fireplace down beyond the heavy oak kitchen table, and Tat lights a fire in it and then cracks the French doors a little, because the fire is lovely for atmosphere, but they really don’t need the warmth.

There’s a lull, eventually, with all the immediate work done, and they pull sweaters back on and go out to the deck to drink their hot cider in the proper environment, and Dan has to admit the beverage isn’t bad. Pretty good, really, with all the extra spices; it barely tastes like apple juice at all. Jeff rolls his eyes when Dan points that out, but he doesn’t make the juice versus cider argument, so Dan rewards his restraint by snuggling in next to him on the long bench, sharing their warmth. Evan smiles fondly at them, and that warms Dan almost as much as the heat from Jeff’s body.

Dan eventually rouses himself enough to go and check on the turkey, and he’s not really surprised when Chris follows him in. Chris just stands quietly while Dan does his work, and then he quirks his head to the side. “You doing okay, Danny?”

Dan doesn’t really know what to say to that. Okay compared to what? He wrinkles his face up. “Yeah. I guess. I mean, this is a good place. It’s… Jeff and Evan….” He hasn’t said the words to Chris yet, but he doesn’t think it’s going to come as much of a shock. “I love them, you know?” Chris smiles softly and nods. “It’s not… it’s not like Justin. Nothing’s ever going to be like Justin. But, you know, Justin wasn’t like Jeff and Evan either, right?”

“No, fair enough.” Chris’s smile is only a little sad. “You’ve— you’ve been lucky, finding them. All of them. When you needed them.” He smiles again, and it’s that “I can’t believe I’m about to say this” smile that Dan doesn’t see too often. “But it’s not just luck, Danny. You’re good too, you know? You deserve them—all of them.”

Dan ducks his head, and then smiles softly. “And you? Do I deserve you?”

Chris’s laugh is quick. “I don’t know; you ever done anything really, really bad?” He edges over and wraps his arm around Dan, and it’s more a headlock than a hug, but Dan knows what it means. “Deserve it or not, you’re stuck with me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Dan’s smile is real. “I can live with that.”

“Good.” Chris gets a bit more businesslike. “So I’ve got to call home at some point today, and Karl and Molly are going to be there— do you want to say hi?”

Dan takes a deep breath. He’s talked to Justin’s parents a few times since he moved to California, and it’s always been pretty emotionally draining, hearing their deadened voices, making Dan wonder if that’s the appropriate way to mourn the loss of a loved one, making him feel guilty for having moved on, even though he knows he hasn’t forgotten and will never forget. But everyone back there knows that Chris is having Thanksgiving with Dan; it would be a bit rude to not at least say hello. “Yeah, I guess. But, you know—if they’re not up for it, don’t pressure them at all….”

Chris nods. “With the time difference, they’re probably all there now. This an okay time?”

Dan really doesn’t want to talk to the Archers—he’s right on the edge as it is; he doesn’t need them to push him over. But he’s not going to be that cowardly. “Yeah, I guess.”

Chris looks like he understands, but he doesn’t say anything, just pulls out his phone and dials. It sounds like one of his nieces or nephews answers, because Chris’s voice is immediately animated and enthusiastic. Dan looks forward to being Uncle Dan if Chris ever has his own kids.

Dan starts on some of the jobs Tia has scheduled for this hour and keeps only a bit of attention on the phone conversation. Chris is busy for a while, apparently being passed around to everyone at the Kentucky house, but finally his voice gets a bit more serious, and Dan figures he’s talking to Karl or Molly. Eventually, he comes over beside Dan and passes the phone over. “Molly,” he says softly.

Dan takes a deep breath. “Hi, Molly. Happy Thanksgiving.” “Thank you, Dan. You too. You’re enjoying the day?”

“Yeah, it’s been really nice. We stole the Thanksgiving ride tradition; there aren’t as many of us here, but you know, it’s the first year.”

 

“Oh, that’s nice. And it must be nice and warm out there.”

Dan doesn’t really want to talk about the weather, but he guesses it’s better than the alternatives. “Yeah, it’s not bad. Bit warmer than there. The fall colors weren’t as good, though.” And he really hasn’t got a lot more to say, but he doesn’t feel like he’s put enough time in yet. “Monty’s doing really well. He’s been kicking ass at Intermediate, and we’re thinking of getting him in at least one Advanced before the season ends. Probably show him all Advanced next season.”

“Oh. That’s nice.” It hits Dan that Molly is either drunk, stoned, or heavily medicated. He doesn’t know what to do with this little flash of insight. In a way, it takes the pressure off him, because it probably doesn’t really matter what he says. But maybe there’s something he should be doing. Chris will know.