Maple Dale ~ My Forever Home (Maple Dale Series) Read online

  “Actually, I think so but….” She turned when she heard a noise behind her. It was that seismic-reading guy again. “What?” she said, her expression clearly conveying, “Why are you back? What do you want now?”

  “I’m just making sure you’re okay. You said you had four horses to ride and then the ambulance just left from here.”

  The expression in Mindy’s eyes softened momentarily. “As you can see I’m fine. No, don’t!” she warned, when he stepped in front of Malaki and raised his hand to pet her neck. “She’ll bite you.”

  “Really?” he said, smoothing the horse’s mane and scratching behind her ear. “Now why would she want to do that?”

  “Never mind. Let her bite you. Mrs. Butchling?”

  “Yes? I’m still here. What’s going on?”

  “I think Bethann has gone into labor. I think….” She lowered her voice. “I think her water broke. She was acting all weird.”

  Piggly and Squiggly, the two barn cats, meandered down the aisleway and rubbed up against the young man’s legs. He reached down to pet them both before walking on. Malaki nickered after him.

  Mindy watched for a second in amazement then turned away and lowered her voice. “Can you come feed?”

  “Yes? But why are you whispering?”

  “There’s someone here. Some guy.”

  “Are you okay?” Mrs. Butchling went instantly into worry mode. “Do you want me to call….”

  “No. No. He’s fine, I’m sure. He’s working out on the road. I just don’t want him hearing me. I’m going to leave now and go to the hospital.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

  “I just watered the horses.”

  “I’ll take care of everything. Go! Call me when you know something.”

  Mindy hung up her cellphone and observed the young man as he walked from stall to stall looking in at the horses. “Um….” She cleared her throat. “As I said, you can see I’m fine.”

  “Thank you. That’s good to know.” He finished looking in at all the horses and nodded politely as he walked past her. When Malaki nickered at him again, Mindy gave her a stern look.

  “I take it that one’s yours,” he said, smiling back at her.

  Mindy stiffened. How did he know that?

  He must have sensed her thoughts, as he pointed to the nameplate on the horse’s stall. It had Mindy’s name on it along with a photo of the two of them at the Bingington Classic. She smiled. “Yes, she’s mine. As a rule, she doesn’t like men. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  “Have a good day,” he said.

  Mindy followed him out and thought about shutting the barn doors behind her, but it was still too warm out. Her shutting the doors would be too obvious. Then again, she thought, maybe I should make a show of it. You don’t belong here, good-looking seismic-reading cowboy. You need to move along now.

  She watched him start down over the hill. “Thanks for checking on me, uh….”

  “Shane,” he said. “My name’s Shane.”

  Oh my God, Mindy thought. He even has a cowboy name. “Thanks, Shane.”

  He waved over his shoulder and was gone. She stared at the trail he’d taken and jumped when her cellphone rang. It was her mother. “We’re here. Where are you? She’s nine centimeters dilated. The baby will be here any minute. Hurry! But don’t speed,” she added. “Just hurry.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. She’s a little out of it, but fine. Hurry!”

  Mindy ran to her Jeep Wrangler, phone to her ear. “How’s Benjamin?”

  “Doctor says he’s never lost a father before, but there’s always a first.”

  Mindy laughed. “I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  In the short time it took Mindy to drive to the hospital, Bethann was fully dilated and experiencing stronger and stronger contractions. The birthing unit allowed family to be right in the room with her as long as the labor was going well. Bethann was progressing at record pace, considering her low level of discomfort.

  “This is our first Zen baby,” the birthing nurse said. “Looking at you, I think it’s the way to go.”

  Bethann smiled. It was as if whenever a contraction took hold, she went to a different place mentally, far, far away. A different space.

  “Bethann, we’re going to need you to push now. Okay?”

  Benjamin swayed and had to sit down. He rested his head on the bedside.

  “Bethann, do you hear me?”

  “Yes.” She opened her eyes.

  Mindy played a game in her mind, counting all the sheep she’d help deliver at Sassie Susie’s. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen….

  “Bethann, push. That’s it. Come on, push. That’s it. Okay, now rest.”

  Benjamin raised his head. Bethann looked like an angel. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “Yes,” Bethann said. “I am already holding our baby.”

  Another contraction.

  “That’s it. That’s it. Another big push.”

  Richard and Christine, Bethann and Mindy’s parents, stood just to Benjamin’s side.

  “Thank you, Mom,” Bethann said. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby.” Christine bit at her trembling bottom lip.

  “One more big push. Okay?”

  “Just one?”

  Richard smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  Mindy was up to sheep number twenty-two when she heard the baby cry. Such a beautiful sound.

  “Welcome, little one,” the nurse said. They already knew it was a boy and it was now official. David Benjamin Sim had arrived. The nurse wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to his father, as was the custom in Benjamin’s family, and the proud father presented him to the family as Bethann looked on, smiling. “Now time for you to meet Mommy,” Benjamin said, kissing the baby on his forehead.

  Mindy looked over her mother and father’s shoulders so she could see him. “He’s so cute!”

  Benjamin handed the baby to Bethann and she brought him gently to her heart.

  “We’ll be just outside,” Christine said, nudging Richard and Mindy along. “We’ll let everyone know.” All three glanced back from the door at mother, father, and newborn son. Mindy snapped a photo with her cellphone.

  Chapter Three

  It was close to six-thirty in the evening when Mindy and her parents left the hospital. They each got to hold little David as they oohed and aahed and shed tears, counted fingers and toes, and marveled over the infant’s abundant dark hair.

  “Not so unusual in my country,” Benjamin said. “In Japan, lots of dark hair very normal.”

  Back at Maple Dale, Richard and Christine turned up the hill and took the first street on the right. Mindy pulled into the drive that wove down and around to the barn and arenas. When she parked and got out of her Jeep, Malaki nickered to her. It was always such a welcome sound.

  Mrs. Butchling walked out to greet her. “Congratulations, Aunt Mindy!”

  Mindy showed her the photo. “He is sooo cute.”

  “Is everyone okay?”

  Mindy nodded. “Everyone is good, even Benjamin.”

  They all knew how excitable Benjamin could be. Everything about him, depending on the situation and circumstance, was done with one hundred and fifty percent enthusiasm or anxiety. That was just him. He also had a contagious laugh.

  “I did Brigit and Bailey’s lesson. They’ll probably never speak to me again. I had them ride the entire hour without stirrups. They’re much too arrogant for such young upstarts.”

  “Oh my God, I forgot all about them. Thank you. Did MacMillan behave?”

  “Yes. Remarkably well in fact. Your hard work with him is paying off. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have Dew Drop tacked and we’re going to take a short ride on Hickory Trail.”

  “Wait! Do you have time for me to tack up Malaki?”

  “Sure. Go ahead. I’ll wait for you in the outdoor.” The outdoor arena was just beyond the main barn, nestled in th
e trees. Mindy and Malaki joined her in less than ten minutes. Malaki wasn’t one to be rushed and was exhibiting her disgruntlement by pinning her ears and dragging her feet. Mindy walked her around the arena twice before mounting. By then, Malaki was a little less disagreeable. Mrs. Butchling was working Dew Drop at a loose-rein trot, his back soft, head and neck relaxed.

  “He looks good,” Mindy said casually as she adjusted her horse’s girth. Although there was over forty years difference between the two women’s ages, they were contemporaries when it came to horses and horsemanship. The difference; what had stemmed from a lifetime of riding to “accomplishment” in Mrs. Butchling’s case came easily in less than ten years for Mindy.

  Hailed as a Phenom by many in the horse world, most young women Mindy’s age probably would have let the praise go to their head. But not Mindy. Her fourteen-year old Morgan mare had a way of keeping her grounded, literally and figuratively.

  “What does she want?” Mrs. Butchling asked, watching as Malaki stood stomping.

  Mindy shrugged. “Who knows?”

  Mrs. Butchling laughed. She hoped Mindy never lost her humbleness. It was so refreshing watching this young woman mature not only as an accomplished equestrian, but as a person. The two started up the hill to Hickory Trail. After the climb, it wound down and around the creek then up an even steeper hill to a flat stretch of land perfect for a lively canter or hand gallop. It was a fun ride and a good workout for the horse and rider.

  Mindy often had episodes in her life when she felt totally detached from reality. This very moment, galloping along on Malaki next to Mrs. Butchling and Dew Drop was one of them. She felt as if she were in a dream, a far-away dream floating on the clouds overhead. Malaki, a good six inches shorter than Dew Drop, matched him stride for stride, hooves thundering and manes flowing.

  Tears stung her eyes as the two women brought their horses down to a walk. Mrs. Butchling handed her a tissue. She always carried tissue. Mindy thanked her. “Wow, I guess I needed that.”

  “I think you did.”

  Mindy patted Malaki on the neck. “Good girl.”

  The two walked their horses back to the barn, talking about the baby, talking about the delivery, talking about tomorrow. “You know, I can hardly believe he’s here. I mean, yes, I know Bethann was pregnant. Yes, I saw him on the ultrasound. And yet….”

  “And now in real life,” Mrs. Butchling said, “to have and to hold, stinky diapers and all.”

  Mindy laughed. When they’d first met, she thought the woman had no sense of humor whatsoever and was surprised to find out otherwise. In Mrs. Butchling’s defense, when they first met years ago her husband was in the advanced stage of Alzheimer’s and had quickly gone from verbally abusive to physically abusive. As a result, she’d hardened to the point of needing to be angry at just about everything and laughed at nothing.

  “In real life, it’s a real live baby,” Mindy said. “The real deal.”

  “For better or for worse. Lord help us all if he talks in riddles like Benjamin.”

  Mindy chuckled as they started up the hill to the back of the arena. Malaki was running out of gas and so was she. It had been a long day, an emotional day, an exhausting day. She yawned. “You’d think I was the one that gave birth.”

  Mrs. Butchling nodded. “I wonder where the expression ‘giving birth’ came from? You don’t give a birth.”

  “You give life.”

  Mrs. Butchling sighed. She’d had two children. Her daughter drowned as a young girl. Her son died in a car accident. She dismounted Dew Drop outside the barn and ran her stirrups up, loosened his girth, and walked him inside and into one of the grooming stalls. Mindy followed and put Malaki in the next one.

  They heard distant thunder.

  “Just in time,” Mrs. Butchling said.

  By the time Mindy rubbed Malaki down and had her do her after-ride stretches, it had started to sprinkle. There was one more lesson tonight with six women. Mindy put Malaki in her stall, headed for the ladies room, and then out into the arena where her students awaited.

  Mindy shared the good news about the baby, paraded the photo on her cellphone around, then had them warm up their horses at a posting trot. Bethann was a stickler for proper riding attire in lessons and this group of women took that rule quite seriously. Aside from not wearing hunt coats, they looked as if they were warming up in a show arena. The horses were groomed to perfection; most had on ankle boots, shin boots and bell boots. One was done up in running bandages. Mindy smiled at the sight of them and sat down in the center of the ring on an overturned muck basket.

  It started to rain harder and the sound on the metal roof echoed off the arena walls. Mindy had them go into a sitting trot. “Seriously, Devon,” Mindy said. “Is that daylight I see between you and that saddle? Jello, remember, Jelllllo….”

  “In your butt, in your thighs, in your calves, down to your feet,” the women sang.

  Mindy laughed. That was one of Bethann’s little teaching ditties. Last verse. “And on the ground, ground, ground,” the women sang. “On the ground, ground, ground.”

  “Good. Good. Much better. Half halt, Cherise. Inside rein. Inside rein. The wall doesn’t turn the horse. You do. Inside rein. Inside leg. Half halt. Half halt. Deep. Deep into the turn. Nice. Nice.” Mindy checked the weather channel on her cellphone. “It’s just a little shower. It’ll be gone in no time.” The roar from the rain was deafening. “Down the diagonal, sitting, sitting.”

  It wasn’t long before the sound from the rain lessened to a hum, and then here came the last rays of sunshine before dusk. Mindy waited until all of the horses and riders were on the wall again. “And canter.”

  “Whoops.” Sybil’s horse Red Baron bolted into a near hand gallop.

  “Oh no. Not this again,” Mindy said. “Sybil, Sybil, Sybil.”

  The woman laughed. “I’m trying. I really am.”

  “What? To drive me crazy? Can you please sit your butt in that saddle? You look like a sideways wiggle worm.” Sybil was the newest addition to the class, and came from a trainer that allowed his students to ride a constant modified two-point at a canter – a pet peeve of Mindy’s.

  “There, there you go. Much better,” Mindy said, and then dropped her head. “Two strides? That’s it?”

  Sybil laughed again. “Old habits are hard to break.”

  Mindy took out her cellphone and pretended to call the “Sit-your-butt-in-the-saddle police,” which had them all laughing. “Yes, yes, I’ll send you a video! You won’t believe it! Her butt is nowhere near the saddle. It’s a crying shame! A crime, I tell ya!”

  Mrs. Butchling entered the observation room and shook her head at the group of laughing ladies. Mindy has her own style of teaching, effective and fun.

  “And now continuing in your three point, let’s have a downward transition into a lively trot. I’m watching you!”

  The women moaned and groaned and did their best to sit the downward transition and maintain forward impulsion.

  “No flying! No flying! What’s with the arms up in the air. Trot, trot, trot. And now walk!” Mindy yawned. “Everyone stretch, arms in the air. Wave.” She swayed back and forth. “Say ‘I love you’ to your horse. Say it like you mean it!”

  “I love you!!!” they all said, chuckling and laughing, patting their horses and leaning over to give them neck hugs. They could always count on Mindy to mix it up. “Look how happy your horse is!” Every horse had stretched out and had relaxed backs, necks, and head carriages. “Drop your stirrups and stretch your legs. Turn from side to side. Use your inside leg and turn, gentle - gentle touch. Nice. Nice. Now using your outside leg, turn right and gather in the center.”

  Mindy glanced at the clock on the wall. There was still time for them to do a few jumps. They had strict rules about the barn closing at nine o’clock for the horses’ sake as well as the staff. Years ago, they had two boarders that would often stay well after eleven at night. One of them, Rhonda, threatened t
o move her horse to another barn when the rule went into effect.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Bethann had responded. “But this is for the good of the horses. If they were out in the wild, the sky would be dark, and they would be winding down and resting for the night. We want to have as natural environment as possible.”

  “Well, there’s nothing natural about being in a stall all night.”

  “Nope, but that’s the way it is here. Being on a state route, I’m not risking horses getting out of the pastures at night.”

  Mindy was standing nearby at the moment and couldn’t help adding her two cents. “You can always get to the barn a little earlier every evening.”

  Rhonda looked at her and sighed.

  “Or early in the morning?”

  “I have a job, Mindy.”

  Mindy walked away. They’d had this discussion before. The woman was a high-end cosmetic sales rep. She worked from ten to six Monday through Friday and admittedly, spent close to two hours getting ready for work each morning. She had her hair to straighten and then curl, a facial to do, time for the facial to “sink in” and then dry to the point that she could then apply an under-makeup moisturizer, then a concealer and complexion balancer, under-makeup highlighter and then the actual foundation makeup, then eye makeup and brow filler, and a finishing spray.

  The woman was beautiful! No doubt about it. But oh so much work. On Saturdays and Sundays, she went through the same ritual, sometimes even twice a day, depending on whether or not she had plans for the evening.

  “You can always get ready for work here,” Bethann suggested.

  “I’d have to move in my arsenal,” Rhonda said, half joking. End of discussion for that day.

  “Who wants to go first?” Mindy asked the class.

  “Me! Me! Me!” Sharon and Donna said together.

  “Well, since I don’t have a coin to flip,” Mindy said. “How’s this? Who’s the oldest?”

  Both looked at one another and laughed, not wanting to go down that road.

  “Okay, we’ll do it alphabetically. Donna, you’re up.”

  Mindy had the woman trot her horse into the corner, then canter, and instructed her to come down over a single two-foot jump, turn deep, and come back over the same jump as a warm up. She turned when she saw Julia standing at her side. “Wow, when did you get here?”