Pops,” Stella answered, even though she had mixed feelings about being left alone with Joiner. Again. She was beginning to notice that Buster had a pattern, and wondered exactly what his motives were. Was it really about business? Or was her dad so smitten with Joiner that he hoped she would be, too?
* * *
THEY CLEARED THE TABLE together and, back inside the kitchen, Joiner filled the sink with water for the dishes.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes I do. It was part of the arrangement I made with Buster.” He submerged the mason jars and started washing.
“You’re going to have to learn that my dad just blows and goes. He didn’t really mean you had to do the dishes.”
Joiner looked at her with wide eyes. “I’d never have guessed that. Now you’re going to tell me I don’t have to eat steak in order to grow to a good size!”
Stella swatted him in the side with a hand towel.
“I’m just saying you don’t have to do the dishes. I can do them later.”
“I’m not leaving the dishes, Boss Lady. Alma, and my own mother for that matter, raised me better than that.”
Stella joined him and, working together, it didn’t take long to put the kitchen back in order.
“Would you like to talk about work in here, or on the porch?” she offered.
“I’ll take the porch.”
Stella gathered the leftover bones from the steaks and called to Mugsy and Mitzi. She dropped the bones off the porch and into the yard, where the dogs went to town, and then sat down in one of the rockers. Joiner sat in the other one. It creaked. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his boots. It was not yet dark, but the air was purple. The color of the gloaming, or twilight.
“We’re going to need a candle,” Stella said, pushing herself back up out of the rocker. She returned shortly with a fat pillar candle and a box of matches. She set it on the table between them and lit it, releasing a soft, vanilla-scented glow.
“This is a beautiful place.”
“Thank you. It’s home. I really can’t imagine being anywhere else.” Stella sighed. “That’s one reason why the school is so important to me. I want a job that incorporates my love of this place with a love of horses and people.”
Joiner wished he felt that way about Kilgore—or anywhere, for that matter. He’d never committed a crime. So why did he always feel as if he was on the run?
“Tell me your vision for the riding school. How can I help you with it?”
Stella ran her hands through her gold hair and then folded them behind her head, leaning back in the rocker. “To be honest, my vision is still evolving. I thought I was clear on what I wanted, but it changed a little bit today.”
“What happened today?”
“Well, I knew I wanted to help people, to offer physical and occupational therapy through interaction with horses in a safe environment. That’s really the core of the vision I have. And of course I can teach safe riding techniques to anyone who wants to learn.” Stella sighed.
“Sounds like safety’s a big deal to you.”
“It is. I’ve been all about safety ever since my mom’s accident.”
“Oh. I see.” Joiner nodded. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“But today I met with a potential donor who told me about his son, a child with Asperger’s, whose symptoms have gotten worse since his parents split up. His mother abandoned him...my heart broke hearing his story. So now my vision is expanding to include spiritual therapy, too—a more holistic approach than I first imagined.”
“Hmm.” Joiner felt he was treading some deep water without a life jacket. It was not that he couldn’t be spiritual or a deep thinker. It was just that those things usually led him to places of pain, places he’d rather avoid. That’s why polo suited him so much. It was a game.
“Probably sounds crazy to you.” She folded her hands in her lap.
“Not crazy. It sounds good. But I have no idea how you’ll accomplish it.”
“At least you’re honest. I like that in a slave laborer.”
Was she flirting with him? Two could play at that game. “Ha! Well, at least you make great apple pie. I like that in a Boss Lady.”
Stella turned in her rocker so that she was facing him. Leaning toward the table, she ran her index finger through the candle’s flame. “Did you ever do this when you were a kid?” Her eyes danced. The candle flame flickered, illuminating her face so it seemed as if the glow came from inside her.
Joiner tried it but he burned himself. “Ow!” He shook his hand in the air.
Stella giggled. “You have to do it this way, you goof.” She slowly dragged her index finger through the middle of the flame again, coming out unscathed. “Give me your hand.”
“I am injured!”
Stella reached out her hand. “Don’t you trust me, Joiner?”
Her eyes challenged him. He placed his other hand in her palm. Extending his index finger, she enclosed his fist in both of hers, holding it firm, and then trailed his finger through the center of the flame. He felt nothing. No burning. Well, nothing in his finger.
“How was that?” She held on to his hand while she waited for an answer.
“It was excruciating!”
“What? No!” She turned his finger around, looking for a sign that it was burned.
“You just set me on fire. Now I think you’re going to have to kiss it and make it better.”
Stella squinted at him, but she didn’t drop his hand.
“Really, Boss Lady, you better kiss my finger or I might not be able to work tomorrow.”
She pecked his index finger with her lips and then tossed his hand away as though it was a hot coal.
“Ooh, that helped.” Joiner held his finger in front of his eyes. “I think I’m healed. It’s a miracle!”
A smile stole across Stella’s face.
“No kidding. Maybe you should kiss the other one, too.” He held it out like a dare.
Surprisingly, Stella took it and kissed it softly and slowly, closing her eyes. Joiner leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. Her skin tasted like sunshine.
“Oh my.” Stella’s brown eyes were as wild as an untamed mustang’s. She jumped back, and Joiner busted out laughing. He knew it was reckless, what just happened, but it was also wonderful. He couldn’t contain his joy.
Joiner
