Stallion Magic. Deborah Fletcher Mello

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Stallion Magic - Deborah Fletcher Mello The Stallions

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protective but hadn’t needed to shelter her. Naomi was fierce, having an indomitable spirit like no other. And from the moment she’d drawn breath Naomi had been able to read him like no one else. She sometimes knew what he was thinking before he could even form the thought in his own mind. That sixth sense of hers could sometimes drive him crazy.

      Minutes later he stood in front of his full-length mirror, staring at his reflection. Once again Naomi had gotten it right. Moving out of the room he found his sister in his family room with her feet up on the coffee table and a large bowl of popcorn in her lap. An episode of some reality show was playing on his big screen. He stood watching for a brief moment as two young women spat insults at each other.

      “Why do you watch this trash?” he questioned as he shifted his gaze back to his sister.

      “Mindless television helps me unwind.”

      “Well, you got the mindless part right,” he said, shaking his head as the two women on the screen began throwing punches.

      “That’s some rapper’s girlfriend and his other girlfriend. Neither one knows he has a wife,” Naomi said as she tossed a handful of kernels into her mouth.

      Noah rolled his eyes. “Are you staying here tonight or are you going back to Norris Jean’s house?” he said, referring to their late mother’s home. The twelve-hundred-square-foot manufactured home had been empty since her passing. Although it had almost been a full year, he and his family were taking their time to decide what they wanted to do with the property.

      Naomi shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet. I finished cleaning out the spare bedroom earlier. I need to start working on her bedroom but I might wait until Natalie comes back so we can do it together. Do you mind if I stay here?”

      Noah shook his head. “You know better than that. You know you’re welcome here anytime.”

      “I had to ask. I didn’t know if you were planning on bringing someone home from the reunion or not. You might have wanted to get your freak on in private.”

      Noah laughed as he grabbed his keys and wallet and headed for the door. “Good night, Naomi.”

      “Have fun, Noah. And you look good, by the way.”

      * * *

      An oversized banner welcomed the Bountiful High School class back for their high school reunion. Pulling his SUV into a parking spot near the gymnasium door Noah sat watching as his former classmates streamed inside.

      He recognized Brighton Laramie and August Thames, both former members of the football team who were both currently on probation. One had done time for a drug infraction, the other for domestic violence against his wife. Noah wasn’t much interested in catching up with either.

      Leslie Prentiss, the girl who’d graduated valedictorian, strolled hand in hand with a man he didn’t recognize, but he fathomed the stranger was probably her husband. Everyone entering the building looked happy to be there and excited at the prospect of reconnecting with old friends.

      As he was about to step out of his car, an oversized limo pulled up to the curb. Everyone around paused to watch the limo driver move around the front of the car to open the passenger side door. Noah smiled as he recognized the members of Bountiful’s former cheerleading team: Brittney, Margie, Patricia, Valerie and the Three Cs—Crystal, Camille, and Catherine.

      The years had been good to them, figures still tight, faces still pretty. Patricia’s added weight gave her curves like she’d never had before, and Camille’s very pregnant belly garnered much attention. The sight of them brought back a flood of memories, and Noah smiled.

      The cheerleaders had teased and tormented him in high school. He’d been painfully shy around girls, and they’d found amusement in making him squirm. Even then he’d known that no one meant him any malice or harm but their frequent antics had made for many awkward moments. He watched as they all moved inside the building before stepping out of his car and following them inside.

      The high school’s gymnasium had been decorated for the occasion, reminding him of the one or two school dances he’d actually attended. Black and red crepe paper streamers and miniature white lights floated along the ceiling. There were large round tables covered in white tablecloths and large, red pillar candles and carnation arrangements sat as centerpieces. A nice crowd had already gathered, many laughing, smiling faces around the room.

      Bridget Wilson sat at the reception table in the entrance collecting contact information and handing out name tags with people’s high school images. The senior portraits were a reminder of a very different time in all of their lives.

      Bridget waved excitedly in his direction. The two frequently crossed paths in their lines of work. Bridget was with the district attorney’s office and often referred him to young men and boys who seemed wanting and willing to work their way out of the judicial system. Noah had mentored many of them successfully, their futures now more about college and success than the trappings of prison initially promised for their bad choices. The two had dated briefly but nothing had come of it, Bridget was now married to another attorney.

      “Hey, Bridget. How are you?”

      “I’m great, Noah. I’m so glad you came.”

      Noah nodded. “Naomi made me. She swore I’d regret it years from now if I didn’t.”

      “Your sister is a wise woman.”

      “Where’s Don?”

      “That husband of mine refused to come. You know how anti-social he is.”

      Noah smiled and shrugged as she rose from her seat to tie a red band around his wrist.

      “This gives you two drinks,” she said, moving back to the other side of the table. “Is your email address still the same?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Then you’re good to go. Have yourself a good time.”

      Noah gave her a slight wave as he moved inside. The music was loud, a DJ playing all the hits from back in the day. Michael Jackson’s “Rock with You” vibrated through the air, a few of the women dancing in front of the stage. As Noah headed for a seat at an empty table, he was stopped in his tracks.

      Tyrone Bellamy, Christopher McDowell and Sean Parrish greeted him with brash handshakes and gregarious hugs.

      “Noah Stallion!”

      “Yo, dude! Is that you?”

      “Noah!”

      “It’s good to see you guys,” Noah chimed. “So what have y’all been up to?”

      “I’m still working at my dad’s hardware store,” Sean said.

      “I’m teaching here at the high school and coaching the boy’s baseball team,” Tyrone said.

      Christopher nodded. “I left Salt Lake City. I’m in New York now working on Wall Street. What about you?”

      “I’m working with the local police department,” Noah answered.

      “Any kids?” Christopher asked.

      He

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