out the French doors onto the patio, Dee walked across the dew-covered yard to the edge of the garden. Mrs. Graves knelt elbow-deep in the lettuce.
Mrs. Graves smoothed her blue smock over her full curves and patted her silver, football-shaped bob. Dee started to say something, and thought better of it. She turned on her heel. Mrs. Graves cleared her throat, stopping her in her tracks.
Plastering on a smile, Dee looked over her shoulder, bracing herself. “I was just coming to ask if you knew where Abe is. I’m amazed at how nice the garden looks. Have you taken care of it all by yourself?”
Mrs. Graves held up a large lettuce head, gently lifting the outer leaves, examining it closely with a skilled eye. Apparently satisfied, she dropped it into her basket, expression grim.
“Ms. Crawford, I’m not Abe’s keeper. He doesn’t tell me where he goes.” The tight set of her jaw relaxed a bit. “Gardening is a hobby I enjoy. Some of it gets canned, some frozen. I take the extra over to the farmer’s market.”
Dee tightened her grip on her coffee mug, soaking up the warmth from the ceramic after the bitter woman’s arctic chill.
Mrs. Graves nodded at the cup. “You would have been welcome to eggs and ham, but late sleepers miss out.”
Dee squirmed. Why did the old woman unsettle her so? “I’ll keep that in mind.” Scanning the groves, she wished an encouraging thought would pop up from the waves of purple. She used to sit for hours staring out into the tranquil scenery. “Do you at least know when Abe left?”
“He left early.” Mrs. Graves stood from her crouch and tucked the full basket under her arm. As she took a handkerchief from her pocket, she studied Dee while dabbing beads of sweat off her upper lip. “If you ask me, he seemed in an awful rush to get away.”
Mrs. Graves left and Dee crossed the yard, headed in the direction of the barn. The day would be a hot one, she thought. The wash of humidity warmed her skin. The smell of wildflowers mixed with fresh-cut grass filled her nostrils. She breathed in deeply and turned her head. She caught a glimpse of Mitch walking into the red barn.
As she entered, she studied the planes of his back. “Hey there.”
He turned, tilting his cowboy hat in greeting. “Mornin’, Ms. Crawford,” he said, his slow drawl thicker than ever.
She chuckled. “Please, do me a favor and call me Dee.”
“I can do that.” He closed up the bucket of dry oats and shoved it under a wooden table. “Nice mornin’ isn’t it?” He seemed in good spirits toward her. Maybe she did have a friend here.
She needed one.
“Yes, I believe it is.” She hooked her thumbs into her pockets and shifted her feet. She was like a fish out of water. “Can I help?” He hesitated. “Unless you think Abe will get mad at you for socializing with me.”
He stopped and turned his full attention on her. “Abe’s my boss and a damn good friend, but he doesn’t tell me who I can talk to. Have you ever worked in a horse barn before?”
“No,” she admitted. She’d leave out her insane fear of horses. If she wanted to earn people’s respect, she needed to step up. “But I can learn. Where are the horses and what needs to be done?” She glanced at the empty stalls.
“I’m getting ready to muck out the stalls. We do this every morning, while the horses are out grazing. Abe is usually down here helping, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him this morning.”
“He left early. At least that’s what Mrs. Graves told me.” Dee sighed. Abe could hide now, but eventually he’d have to face her. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I wasn’t suggesting that he owns or controls you.” She lowered her eyes to the spot where Abe had been sitting last night. “I just don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
Mitch stepped over clumps of hay and took something from a top shelf. He tossed the bundle her way. She caught it against her chest with one hand and looked down at the pair of heavy gloves. A strong odor of horse manure singed her nose. She put her empty coffee cup on a nearby bench.
“You’re not allergic to hay, are you?” he asked.
Shrugging, she pulled on the gloves. “I guess we’ll find out.”
They worked well together. After heaping piles of used hay into the wheelbarrow, vigorously scrubbing the floor, putting down new bedding and cleaning out food bins, Mitch offered a cold bottle of water. Dee gladly accepted it and drank thirstily. She hadn’t been so sweaty and dirty in years, but she felt good.
“Well, you’ve earned my respect,” Mitch said, after chugging half of his water.
“I’m glad to hear that. First impressions are important. I’d bet mine wasn’t the best.” One corner of his mouth lifted. Friendly, kind eyes made him appear less rugged. “It takes me at least two or three impressions before I make my decision.”
She could handle that.
After a brief silence, she asked, “Are you married?”
“Uhh...” He dropped the leather strap he was busily unknotting. “No, not now. I’ve been divorced for three years.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.”
“Odd how life can change.”
“Everyone experiences pain. Some get over it quicker than others.” He continued to work the leather with deft hands. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not glad Edie and I are divorced, but we had to be apart or we’d end up hating one another.”
The word ‘hating’ brought her thoughts back to Abe. “How about Abe, Mitch? How has he been?” She tried to hide her concern, but failed. “Does he sit here and drink every evening?”
“No, not often.” He paused and looked at her. “He’s a good guy, you know. He just needs to accept that life moves on, and realize he deserves happiness like every other human being.”
“He’s not going to make life easy for me, is he?” She feared she already knew the answer.
“No,” he said. “This place means a lot to him.”
“I’m not here to steal his home from him.”
“It’s not me you need to convince.” He tossed her a gentle smile and a quick shrug of a broad shoulder. “I sure could use your help tomorrow morning.”
“Raking hay?” She didn’t mind the hay, but she wasn’t quite ready to groom or walk horses.
“Planting trees.”
“I’m in. I’ll be out after my eggs.” She laughed. “By the way, how many horses does Abe have?”
“Just the mare and the stallion right now. He’s got another comin’ in a few days.”
“He used to have more.” Once, all the stalls had been full.
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve
