Page 25 of Somebody like Santa
Clem Porter’s gaze moved from Maggie to Trevor, who stood with his eyes downcast and his hands in his pockets. “So are these two kids the rest of your family?”
“Just Trevor here.” Cooper made a quick introduction. “The girl’s a cousin who came along for the ride.”
“Too bad. It looks like she’d be right at home here. Come on in and see the house, Trevor. Try to picture how it would look all fixed up with new paint and nice furniture.”
They walked into the house. Porter had done some work since the last time Cooper had seen it. The tobacco smell was aired out, the trash cleared away, the dishes washed, and the bathroom scrubbed. Still, the place looked shabby at best.
Trevor wandered from room to room. Cooper found himself measuring the minutes of his son’s silence. He wanted Trevor to like the ranch. But if his son was against the move, a selfish decision would be out of the question. He might have his own dreams of a life in the country, but this decision was about Trevor and helping the boy through a difficult time in his young life.
“Which bedroom would be mine if we bought the place?” Trevor asked, then added, “I saidif.”
“Take your pick. You could paint it and decorate it any way you wanted. You can’t do that in a rental.”
“Even black?” The boy was testing him.
“I wouldn’t say no, but you’d have to do the work yourself.”
Silent again, Trevor turned around and walked back outside. “Let’s go see the horses,” he said.
They trailed out to the barn, Maggie and the dog dancing around them. The barn was weathered on the outside, but inside, it was in better condition than Abner’s. There was a hayloft, and a rack for saddles, harness, and other tack, with a roomy double box stall for the horses. The grulla and the pinto looked at them with big, soft eyes. They were large animals, not draft size but powerful enough to be impressive.
Clem Porter opened the pinto’s stall. Trevor, who’d never been around horses, hung back, as if gathering his courage. But Maggie couldn’t wait to pet them. To keep her safe, Cooper lifted her high enough to stroke the pinto’s satiny neck. The horse quivered, blowing softly as her little hand touched its sensitive hide. “He’s so silky,” she murmured. “What are their names?”
“This one’s Spot. The other one is Dusty,” Porter said.
“Those are funny names. Can I sit on his back?”
Cooper glanced at Porter, who nodded. “He’s gentle, but hang onto her,” he said. “You don’t want her sliding off.”
Cooper lifted her higher and settled her gently on the broad back. His hands gripped her tightly beneath the arms so he could snatch her to safety in case the horse made a sudden move, but the big gelding stood calmly while Maggie pretended to ride him, a rapt expression on her face.
Porter chuckled. “I’d say that little lady’s got the makings of a real cowgirl,” he said as Cooper lifted her safely out of the way. Cooper glanced at his son, knowing the boy wouldn’t let himself be shown up by a girl half his size. He stepped forward and, with a shaking hand, reached toward the horse’s face.
Cooper held his breath. Not until now had he realized how much he wanted this small ranch and what it represented—freedom, the pride of ownership, the open-space lifestyle, and more.
But he would only buy it if Trevor could be happy here. Otherwise, Cooper resolved, he would walk away and forget he’d ever seen that For Sale sign next to the road.
The horse flinched and snorted when Trevor touched him. Trevor’s hand jerked away. “I don’t think he likes me,” he said.
Cooper’s heart sank. But Porter, as if sensing what was at stake, stepped in, put a hand on Trevor’s shoulder, and guided him.
“Not like that,” he said. “The horse gets nervous when you stand right in front of him. Because his eyes are on the sides of his head, he can’t see what you’re doing. Stand to the side, like this, where he can see you. That’s better. Now stroke his neck with the flat of your hand, like this.”
Trevor did as he was directed. As he stroked the horse, the big animal relaxed with a sigh, clearly enjoying his touch.
“Wow, now he likes it,” Trevor said. “I’ve got a lot to learn about horses.”
“Anybody can learn,” Porter said. “It just takes a little time and patience. Abner Jenkins, my neighbor in the next place over, used to be a great horseman afore he busted a hip. He can’t ride anymore, but I reckon he could give you a few pointers.”
At the mention of Abner, Trevor’s expression brightened. In the silence that followed, Cooper could almost imagine wheels turning in his son’s mind.
“Do you think these two horses could pull a sleigh?” Trevor asked.
“A sleigh?” Porter looked puzzled.
“A sleigh?” Maggie’s green eyes danced with excitement. “A real, honest-to-goodness sleigh? If we had a sleigh, Santa could ride it in the Christmas parade!”
“Could the horses pull a sleigh?” Trevor pressed his question.