The Auction a Romance by Anna Erishkigal Page 46

  By Sunday night, when Adam finally attempted to speak to Pippa, she'd begun to grow tired of the primitive accommodations. Sleeping in the barn had ceased to be an adventure.

  "Go, nipper." I kissed the top of her head. "I'll stay here. If anybody tries to hurt Luna, they'll have to get past me."

  Pippa quietly followed her father into the house, including the dog, who always went wherever Pippa went. I moved to the barn door to watch them go. Just before they stepped inside, Adam put his arms around his little girl and hugged her. This time, she didn't yell that she hated him. A lump rose in my throat. Everything was back to the way it had been before the day I'd first arrived.

  "Goodnight, Luna."

  I gave her cuddles and bedded down for the night.

  I awoke Monday morning before dawn to find Adam once again seated on the upended wooden crate, watching me as I slept in my homeless cocoon of straw. He wore a business suit, and there was no offering of food.

  I sat up.

  "Adam."

  "Rosie."

  We stared at each other, two people with a yawning chasm which gaped between them, all caused by the little white pony that slept in the next stall. In those blue-green eyes swirled the same formless torment which, no doubt, burdened my own.

  "I have to go to work now," Adam said softly. "I left your breakfast on the kitchen table."

  He rose and left before I could argue with him and tell him 'no.'

  When I got into the house, a brand-new mattress now sat on Adam's mother's bed. Laid out on top of the handmade double wedding ring quilt sat a brand new nightgown, a bathrobe, a pair of slippers, and a brand-new package of underwear in my size. My black Aboriginal bracelet sat next to it on a piece of paper sporting brand-new black leather laces to replace the ones I'd cut off. A lump rose in my throat when I read the note.

  I'm so sorry. Won't you please stay? For Pippa's sake? -A

  Chapter 50

  Luna swished her scraggly white tail as we curried her coat in the paddock just outside the barn. Her ears perked forward, listening to Pippa chatter, as we picked the rain scalding off her back, one pea-sized scab at a time, and dabbed at them with hydrogen peroxide. Every now and again Luna whickered and nuzzled Pippa's hand, searching for another handful of grassy hay.

  "Not yet, greedy girl," Pippa scolded her. "You don't want to colic again. Doctor Ryan said only three handfuls every hour."

  I picked off the next scab. God! There were thousands of them. They were clustered so badly in some places that Luna was as bald as a dog who suffered from mange. I worked in silence, only grunting "uh-huh" every once in a while to let Pippa know I heard her, for the longer I tended Luna's wounds, the more furious I became that somebody had abused their horse this badly.

  "Daddy said he thinks the judge will let me stay with him," Pippa said. "If he does, will you stay here too?"

  I picked a scab and squeezed Luna's flesh to force the infected corpuscle to relieve its venom. For the past two weeks, the minute Adam got home I retreated into my room, and last Sunday I'd gotten up early and gone for a hike alone.

  "Your father hired me until the end of the summer," I said. "After that, you'll go back to school."

  "Daddy spoke to the headmaster at Saint Joseph's," Pippa said. "He said I can go there, unless the judge makes us sell the station. Will you be my teacher there, Rosie?"

  "It's the wrong grade," I said, "and only temporary. Once Macy comes back from her maternity leave, I'll have to find another job."

  "Maybe Daddy will ask you to stay and take care of me?" Pippa's voice lilted upwards with undisguised hope.

  My hand slid down to caress my now-empty wrist. An odd feeling of hope, mixed with never again, warred inside my chest. Don't hope. You can't trust him. Don't ever let the bastard hurt you again…

  "I can't stay, nipper," I said. "I have to find a real job."

  After two weeks of schlepping around in the ancient green ute, yesterday afternoon, a flatbed truck arrived from Gold Coast with my red Falcon on the back, including my long-lost suitcase with my work clothes. It was time to take my stuff and get the heck out of Adam's hair.

  "But what about Luna?" Pippa asked. "Where will Luna go?"

  "Luna is my pony, nipper. I'm the one who is legally responsible for her well-being."

  "Luna doesn't think so."

  Pippa gave her pony a hug. It was eerie how much my young charge resembled the girl on the white pony. Taller. Blonder. But Pippa had picked up some mannerisms from the grandmother who no longer graced my dreams.

  "No. I guess she doesn't, does she." I patted the pony's skin which had begun to lose that dry look even though she was still bald and covered with scabs. "We'll see, sweetie. Okay? It's not that I don't want you to have her. I just don't want her to get put to sleep because your mother decides to use her as a weapon."

  Pippa's expression turned solemn. Ever since the auction, there had been a seriousness about her, a loss of innocence, an understanding that the world was a hostile place and the only safety was to learn to rely upon yourself.

  "Daddy said he was sorry," Pippa said. "He promised he'll never do anything like that again."

  I tended the terrible wound which marred Luna's forehead, filled with yellowish-green puss and tainted with blood. My relationship with Adam was like that now. Tainted. Almost any horrible thing I could have forgiven, but not for throwing me out of the place I'd begun to think of as home.

  "You have to forgive him, Rosie," Pippa said. "Please?"

  I dribbled the last bit of peroxide onto Luna's head wound. She was feeling just good enough to get antsy after an hour of getting nit-picked and had begun to skitter around too much for me to squeeze the puss out without hurting her. I would have to finish it later.

  "Okay, sweetheart," I said to the pony. "That's enough for now."

  "So you will forgive him?" Pippa's face lit up, misconstruing my words.

  I looked at her small, pale face, so hopeful with a hint of the innocence I'd stolen from her when I'd taken her to the auction. I didn't have the heart to tell her "Never."

  "We'll see, nipper," I said. "It takes years to earn somebody's trust, and only a second to throw it all away."

  We broke out the buckets and washed Luna down with a solution of warm water and vinegar, a mild disinfectant to treat the scalding, and then broke out the curry brushes to groom the rest of her coat. Little by little her hair was beginning to grow back in and the flesh creep onto her ribcage until we caught glimpses of a pretty white pony.

  "Who do you think used to own her?" Pippa asked as she brushed her neck.

  "I don't know," I said. "A little girl, maybe? Just like you?"

  "How can you tell?"

  "See how she responds to you? When Emily came over with your friends from the pony club she perked right up, but when Marina tried to handle her, she skittered away."

  Pippa's lip trembled.

  "Why would her previous little girl throw her away?"

  I watched Luna nibble at Pippa's pigtail, not to eat it, more that the pony enjoyed the feeling of Pippa's hair across her nose.

  "She probably bought a bigger horse when she got too big to ride Luna anymore," I said, "and her parents sold her to somebody who just turned her out into a field to starve."

  Pippa's eyes grew large.

  "You mean like Mommy wanted me to do so I could go get Flying Dutchman?"

  "Yes."

  Pippa brushed out Luna's mane.

  "I'll never ride another horse but Luna!"

  "She's just a little pony," I said. "And you are tall for your age. Someday soon, you're going to outgrow her, and then the real question will be, how will you treat the pony who loves you? Will you send her for slaughter? Or will you make sure she spends the rest of her life in comfort?"

  Pippa rubbed the brush back and forth, her expression somber.

  "After Mrs. Richardson retired," Pippa said, "I used to feel that way with Mommy, that she just wanted to get
rid of me so she could go have fun and not be bothered taking care of me."

  My throat closed up, and just for a moment my chest hurt.

  "Are you okay, Rosie?" Pippa asked.

  I looked away and wiped the tears before she saw them.

  "Yes, just a speck of dirt," I lied.

  I put down the brush and picked up the hoof pick. Luna's hooves were in terrible condition, but the farrier was scheduled to come on Thursday.

  During Adam's divorce trial…

  I pushed it out of my mind. It wasn't my problem. My only problem was I had two more weeks to find a job, an apartment, and someplace to board Luna while she recovered. I did not want to stay here. Every time I encountered Adam and his wounded countenance, it chipped away at my resolve to hate him.

  The sound of tires crunching up the driveway caused Pippa and me both to look up. It was earlier than usual for Adam to come home, but on Saturday night, sometimes he managed to leave the Basin early. Thunderlane rose to his feet, his tail waving like a cheerful, fluffy flag. He bounded out the doorway, barking a greeting.

  "Daddy's got tomorrow off," Pippa said. "Will you go on a picnic with us?"

  "No."

  Pippa gave Luna a hug, and then bolted out the barn door to greet her father. I finished picking the dirt out of Luna's hooves and set her loose in the paddock, and then went into the tiny barn toilet to wash my hands. It was too early to retreat into my bedroom, so I would make busy work out here.

  I moved into the tack room to finish weeding out the boxes I'd hauled from Brisbane. It was all just crap, really. Trinkets I'd held onto because, when you have no place to call home, you begin to hoard anything that reminds you of a happy memory. Over the past two weeks I'd cast it all off, whittling it all down until all I owned would fit into the boot of my car, and donated the rest to the local charity shop. I was now down to four boxes, plus the suitcase inside the house. One contained my winter coat and sweaters, the second my teacher training manuals, the third my equestrian gear, and the fourth box held trophies too large to fit in my horse box.

  I fingered the cheap, plastic trophies all topped with horses in various forms of dressage. They represented a lifestyle which had died along with Harvey. Ever since the night Adam fired me, I'd had no more dreams of Harvey. He was dead. It was time to let him go.

  I carried the box over to the pile of items destined for the local charity shop, and then placed into it my copy of Native Aboriginal People's & Cultures. Maybe the Pony Club team leader could peel off the plaques with my name on them and recycle the trophies to reward the kids who made the most progress in class?

  I realized Adam stood silently in the doorway, watching me cast off the last of my worldly goods.

  "Adam."

  "Rosie."

  He watched me work, nearly two meters of drop-dead gorgeous, muscular angst. I glanced around the room, which was now meticulously neat, empty and clean. What else could I do to avoid speaking to Adam?

  "I have to feed Luna again."

  I pushed past his too-tall frame, cringing when I accidentally brushed against him and that familiar tingle of awareness wheedled its way into my flesh. Go away Adam. I know what you're doing. Trying to play horse whisperer with the wild brumby mare.

  I ripped three large handfuls of lush, green grassy hay out of the bale and went over to stand in front of Luna's stall. Luna bobbed her head up and down and nuzzled my fingers, begging for more once the hay was gone.

  "That's it for now, sweetheart," I said. "I'll give you more in another hour."

  I prayed Adam would go away. But this time, he did not.

  "I brought home some Chinese food," he said. "I came out to ask if you'd join us for supper."

  "Thank you," I said without turning around. "But I'm not hungry."

  It was a bald-faced lie, one which my own body betrayed when my stomach grumbled like a growling tiger. Adam had come home too early for me to make a sandwich and hide.

  My shoulder tingled as Adam touched me.

  "Please, Rosie. Come inside. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to. But it hurts Pippa to see us fight."

  Guilt ate at my gut. What did it matter, anyway? It wasn't like Pippa was my daughter. She was just some kid I'd been hired to teach for the summer.

  You know that's not true you bloody idiot. You worship that little girl as much as Adam does.

  A lump rose in my throat. The tears which had sat just beneath the surface for the last two and a half weeks threatened to erupt.

  "Just let me wash my hands." My voice sounded husky. "And then I'll come in and sit for a little while."

  The barn felt lonely and oh-so-empty when Adam silently went back inside the house. I hugged Luna as I blubbered all over her coat, and then I washed my hands in the washroom in the barn. The air inside the house was filled with the heavenly scent of soy sauce and ginger, and the kitchen table was piled high with a feast of take-out cartons. Adam looked up, his expression wary, as I sat down at the place they'd set for me and picked up a pair of chopsticks.

  "Pippa was telling me about her friends from the Pony Club." Adam tried to draw me out in conversation. "So? They've decided to meet here?"

  "Just for the next two weeks," I said. "So Pippa can participate. After that, the kids go back to school, so they'll have no choice but to meet at the state fairgrounds."

  "Marina said Luna is spooky," Pippa said, "but she thinks she'll get over it with a bit of training."

  Adam raised one eyebrow, but he did not dare ask the question I knew he wanted to know. Will she ever be safe for my little girl to ride?

  Pippa prattled on about her pony club friends, her volunteer job at the library, our trips to visit Julie and Emily, ride Polkadot, visit Linda Hastings, and the way the people of this town had all locked elbows to form a protective bubble against the outside media hounds. It was roots. It was a sense of belonging. It was everything I'd been trying to give her since the day I'd first cooked up The Plan.

  It was too bad there was no place in that plan for me…

  We washed the dishes, and then Adam herded Pippa in for her nightly shower and a bedtime story. The first smile I'd had in weeks played upon my lips as I thought of Eva Jackson forced to sit next to her daughter in the limousine when she reeked of her new favorite perfume, odeur de fumier de cheval, horse manure. I headed out to the barn to give Luna her final dose of hay and water for the night and wrapped her in the brand new horse blanket one of her Facebook friends had donated to keep her warm. I snapped a camera shot and then climbed up into the hayloft to find enough bars to upload the picture to Luna's fan-site, along with a status report of everything we'd done today. It was ironic that Pippa's pony possessed far more friends than I did.

  I washed my hands, and then headed back into the house. Adam waited for me in his orange king chair. On the coffee table in front of him, two bottles of White Rabbit sat open next to a photo-album. I avoided his gaze and tried to slip past him to my bedroom.

  "Rosie, please. We need to talk."

  I stiffened, my back turned towards him.

  "I'm really tired, Adam." Not that I'm able to sleep…

  "Please, Rosie. It will only take a minute."

  My rump sank into the traitorously comfortable orange couch as I pulled the end-cushion onto my lap to act as a shield. I would listen to whatever he had to say, and then I would run into my bedroom and lock myself inside the same as I'd done every night for the last two weeks.

  I stared at him. He stared at me. Neither one of us blinked. He didn't even fiddle with his bottle of beer, which was what he usually did when he needed to talk about something uncomfortable.

  "My divorce trial starts the day after tomorrow."

  I gave him a non-committal shrug. When I didn't comment, Adam continued, his voice comforting and low.

  "My solicitor finally got clearance to read your juvenile record."

  Heat rose to my cheeks as my hackles rose. "So?"

  "Eva
misrepresented the contents to the court." Adam's brow knit together into a sympathetic expression. "Why didn't you tell me what happened to your horse?"

  "It's no big secret," I said. "Anybody connected to the horse training world knows what my mother did to Alfonso Xalbadora's champion show horse. Ask Marina from the pony club. Even she heard."

  Adam looked down to fiddle with his beer. Point scored … me.

  "I'm sorry," Adam said.

  "So am I. He didn't deserve to be killed."

  He looked up again.

  "No, I mean I'm sorry. For everything."

  A long, uncomfortable silence hung between us. I know he kept hoping I'd forgive him, but I couldn't. I just … couldn't.

  "You once asked me why I'd left Eva," Adam said at last.

  "I don't care," I cut him off. "It's not my problem."

  Adam looked up.

  "You do care. Or you wouldn't still be here."

  I squirmed. The bastard had me.

  "I care about Pippa," I said. "And I need my end-of-summer bonus. As soon as my twelve weeks are up, I'll be out of your hair forever."

  Hurt danced across Adam's chiseled features and I felt a small thrill of victory. But then that other voice chipped in, the one that wanted to forgive him. I stared down at my hands.

  "What if I don't want to let you go?" Adam said softly.

  I grabbed the bottle of White Rabbit and stared into the woodland scene on the label. The silence stretched out between us until I felt compelled to speak. A curious blend of anguish and anger, all wrapped in betrayal, made my voice break.

  "Then you shouldn't have thrown me away!"

  I thunked the bottle down on the coffee table and stood up to hurry into my bedroom. Adam headed me off before I could escape.