The Impossible Art of Falling (Impossible Art #1)

The Impossible Art of Falling

Copyright © 2015 by Sara Fiorenzo

All Rights Reserved. Printed in the United States of America.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manor whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events or real people are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The Impossible Art of Falling/Sara Fiorenzo

Editing services provided by TJS Literary Editing

Book Cover by Cover Me Darling

Formatting Services provided by Mad Hatter Press, LLC

ISBN Number 9780990685234

Sara Fiorenzo

Mad Hatter Press

It is not enough for a man to know how to ride; he must know how to fall.

~ Mexican Proverb

I
n a split second, Jena Grayson’s life changed forever. In that moment, there was the sickening crunch of bones breaking and the crash of 1500 pounds of flesh skidding into the brightly painted poles and the surrounding dirt. The horse had fallen right into the jump, sending splinters of wood into the air and her father plummeting to the earth, head first. Jena knew he was dead, having just watched him crumple to the ground at an odd, unnatural angle. She ran to his side anyway, hoping that she was wrong. Deep down, she knew surviving a fall like that would be nearly impossible. Others scrambled to catch the horse, hobbling around on three legs, nostrils flaring, and eyes filled with fear. The saddle was shifted sideways, and the reins swung back and forth, just like the broken leg swinging limply, until the poor animal was pulled to the ground. People swarmed around the fallen animal, quickly putting curtains up to hide the ungodly task before them. 

Jena pushed aside the others who had gotten to her father before her, her hands roughly grabbing shoulders and arms to pull them out of her way. Her father lay before her, his lanky body twisted unnaturally. Her hands shook as she searched for a pulse. She was sure she would be able to hear it, as the air was full of silence, the spectators staring at the disaster unfolding before them. Ambulance sirens announced the arrival of help, but it was too late. Hands reached down and pulled her away, and she felt as if she were suffocating. The stadium was a mess of color and undecipherable sound, yet she heard and saw nothing. Ted Grayson was dead, his neck broken, and as they took his lifeless body away from the still arena, it was accompanied only by Jena’s screams, as she fell to her knees and spilled her grief onto the sand.

chapter 1

S
HE WATCHED THROUGH THE SMALL window of the hayloft, as the gray truck grew closer, meandering through the narrow mountain road, behind it a small trailer. Nothing fancy, just a plain stock trailer in a matching steel grey. A few minutes later, the sound of tires on gravel announced its arrival and still, she didn’t move. The door of the truck slammed and a man who was deceptively familiar, stepped out. He had the same slender physique and frat-boyish grin. Blond hair, peppered with gray, peeked out from underneath the ball cap on his head. His eyes, though, were a soft brown, while her father’s had been almost gold. Mac, the barn manager, strode forth from one of the green and white buildings to greet the man who had driven all this way. They shook hands briefly, and Mac placed his hand on Rob Grayson’s shoulder. Both men focused on the gravel beneath their feet. Mac reached for his eye, his fingers fisted, and began to rub. Perhaps his eyes misted over, or he was simply removing a particle of dust. The loss of a brother and friend was too much for both of them.

“How is she handling things, Mac?” the other man asked.

“Not well, I am afraid, Rob. She still doesn’t speak much, and she wanders around the barns aimlessly. It’s like she’s a ghost,” Mac answered. He gestured to the dark horse alone in a small arena near the barn.  “And she stopped riding months ago. The poor guy’s bored.” As if to prove the point, the horse kicked his heels and ran a few circles before sliding to a stop at the fence and shaking his head. His mane and forelock were shaggy, covering a bright white star. The two men walked over to the horse standing at the fence. Rob reached out to scratch the horse’s forehead.

“Well, perhaps if her mother hadn’t taken off a few months later, things would have been easier to deal with,” he sighed, and it was filled with grief.  “I guess I can’t blame her for being upset. Karen never really got into this farm life, but I think leaving your only child because you can’t handle tragedy is a shitty thing to do,” Rob replied, and then looked around nervously, hoping that his niece hadn’t overheard. 

“The farm will be sold before long, and the last of the horses are leaving tomorrow with you.” Mac looked around with sadness. He could see parts of the white and green barns where the once bright paint was now fading. Fence posts needed to be fixed, and the rolling pastures were overgrown and full of weeds. It had only been a year, and the once vibrant farm was now empty and dead, just like the man who built it up. “I guess this really is the end.” The sadness and loss was evident in his voice.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t take over,” Rob said. “I don’t know anything about show jumpers and eventing, and I have my own business and farm back in Tennessee to worry about. I wouldn’t be any good for this place. Still, I am sad to see it go.” He paused for a moment, his face twisted in pain as he looked around. White planked fences encircled open fields and empty barns, enveloping them like enormous arms. “My brother worked hard to build this farm and became a giant in the horse world. It’s what he always wanted, and he did it. I just can’t believe it’s all gone.”

“It’s not your fault. The clients all left anyway, in search of new trainers to take them to the next level. No offense, but it wouldn’t be the same. I mean, Ted was the heart and soul of this place. Honestly, I’m more concerned for Jena at this point. I know that she isn’t a kid anymore, but it’s like she has lost both parents. Now that she’s stopped riding, I’m worried she doesn’t have anything left. That girl loves horses as much as her dad did.” Mac turned again, his squinted eyes searching the horizon, the object of his gaze, never really being revealed. Perhaps he just couldn’t look into the eye of the brother who looked so much like his lost friend. 

“Well,” Rob smiled and kicked at an imaginary stone on the driveway, “she has Meg and me, and I promise that we’ll help her through all of this. I know it’s not the same, but we can give her a life in Townsend. And she’ll remember that she’s not alone.” Rob began to gesture around him, sadness settling in again. “I hope taking her away from all of this will help. Where is my niece anyway?” Rob swallowed his own pain away and looked around anxiously. “Jena?” he called out, using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “Jena, I’m here.”

Jena slowly descended the stairs of the hayloft, breathing in deeply the smell of alfalfa and horses. Out in the driveway, Rob’s back was turned, and he was looking far off at the field of mares he was taking with him. She slid out quietly, and leaned against the post outside, waiting for him to turn around and acknowledge her. She could speak and tell him she was here, but she preferred the silence instead.

She stared at his silhouette. His graying stubble, straight nose and angled jaw line was so much like her father, it hurt. Other than a strong physical resemblance though, the brothers couldn’t have been more different. Her father was constantly on the move and lived for the competition. Rob preferred to live quietly on his farm. While her father thrived in the limelight, her uncle was content in the shadows. He must have felt her stare because he turned around.

“Oh Jena, there you are!” Within a few strides he was in front of her, pulling her into a bear hug only an uncle could give, and she felt six again, instead of eighteen. “I missed you. How are you doing, kiddo?” She shrugged against him and bit her lip, a new habit to stop the constant flow of tears.

“Fine,” she whispered meekly, forcing a crooked smile.

“Are you all packed? Do you need help with anything? I figure we can take the rest of the day to get things packed up. We’ll load the horses first thing in the morning, so we can get back to Tennessee by late afternoon. That will give you and the horses some time to settle in. I’ve closed the trail rides for the next few days so that we can get things situated.  And maybe you can introduce your boy to life on the…” Rob trailed off at the blank look in Jena’s eyes. Mac had said that she had stopped riding. They were taking her horse with them, but he wondered if she even cared.

              “Let’s go see what we can scrounge up for some lunch.” He put his arm around his niece, and the pair began to slowly walk toward house.

THERE WASN’T MUCH FOOD left, but they managed to find enough to make some sandwiches. Rob, Mac, and Jena sat down at the big dining room table. The house was fairly bare, with only a few large pieces of furniture left. The bank would be auctioning off what was left to pay the lien on the farm, and the staff had all been let go the month before. Mac had stayed to help keep things going until Rob could get there to handle what was left. Mac had known Jena since she was a kid. Although she was now old enough to take care of herself and had been over the last few months, he didn’t feel he could abandon her like everyone else had. She had continued with school in order to graduate, and he had made sure that there were groceries in the fridge, and that she was fed. Today, he joined her and Rob one last time before heading down to Florida, where he had taken a job as a barn manager for another stable. He figured that staying through to the end was the least that he could do repay the kindness the Grayson’s had shown him over the years.

              “Have you heard from Karen?” Rob asked to no one in particular and not sure which one would answer. Jena continued to stare down at her plate, which was all the answer that he needed. He couldn’t help but think of what a cold and heartless woman Karen was. At first, he got it. After his brother died, everyone was lost, himself included. The grooms tried to run things as usual, thinking that Karen Grayson would continue to run the farm, or allow Jena to start taking over. But one by one, they left as well, once they realized that she stopped paying the bills… and them, and that Jena had no interest or money to run the place herself. What had happened to the farm’s money, one could only guess, although Rob was sure that Karen wasn’t exactly collecting any money from the boarders. Finally, she walked out one day, leaving the farm and her daughter. At first, Jena had tried to call her mother, to urge her to come back or at least come and get her, but Karen was too broken. She wanted nothing to do with the horses or her daughter, because they were a constant reminder of what she had lost and the life they used to lead. Every time she looked into her daughter’s eyes, she was reminded of the husband she lost. In many ways, Rob thought, it was a blessing that Karen decided to sell the farm or rather, let the bank take it and auction it off little by little, to pay the bills she refused to pay. The immaculately maintained green and white buildings of Grayson Stables would never be the world class operation it had once been. And Jena certainly didn’t deserve to be left with the mess of a father who died too soon and a mother who let it all fall apart.

“Not in a few weeks,” Mac replied, answering Rob question. “She called once, just to see how many horses were still here, and if anyone from the bank had been by.” He leaned closer to Rob. “She never even asked for Jena.”

Jena continued to stare at her plate while taking another bite of her sandwich. She hated how quickly she had become the subject of conversations, instead of a participant. She hated how everyone tiptoed around her and treated her like a child. Or like a priceless vase that would break at the slightest movement. Mac’s eyes darted toward her nervously. Rob knew she had heard. She knew her mother’s shortcomings but would never talk about them. In fact, when she did talk, it was only to say a word or two, and she never mentioned either one of her parents. Her face was a constant mask of stoicism that sometimes opened up to either sadness or anger. There hadn’t been any happiness in many months.

“I think you will like it in Townsend, Jena,” Rob said changing the subject. “The mountains are your backyard. And of course, there are the horses on the ranch. We were sort of hoping that you could help us with the trail rides through the park this summer. If you want to talk about going to college, we can talk about that, too. The University of Tennessee is only a short drive away.  We weren’t sure what your plans were.” Having finished her sandwich, Jena shrugged in non-commitment and began to bite her lip again while she took her plate to the sink. Apparently, this topic was off limits, too. Rob was beginning to wonder exactly what they
could
talk about. It would be a long drive back to Tennessee.

“I suppose we should start loading the truck up with the things we’re taking with us. Mac, perhaps you could help me? Jena, just put what you want to bring at the foot of the stairs. I’ll put it in the truck.” She nodded then slowly walked up the stairs to her room. Rob watched her retreat, her shoulders hunched, her stride slow and sad.