A Touch of Autumn(8)
“Abby, you don’t need to ask Trent. I know what I have to do.”
Abigail tickled Celeste beneath her chubby baby chin, then cast a curious look in Olivia’s direction. “Well, are you going to tell me?”
“It’s simple. I have to spend time with our horses. I have to saddle and bridle and get myself into the saddle and ride. No matter how scared I am. And trust God. It’s the only way.”
“Good for you. Sometimes we simply have to take the bull by the horns and plunge into the storm.”
Olivia giggled. “I think that’s what they call a mixed metaphor.”
Abigail looked blank for a moment then laughed. “Well, you know what I mean.” She turned to the baby on her lap. “Auntie Olivia is making fun of your mama, sweetie.”
Celeste patted her mother’s lips.
Olivia laughed and stood. “I’d best be going. The horses have been hitched to the buggy long enough. I’d only meant to stop by for a moment.”
“Do you want me to go with you when you face the challenge?” Abigail stood, shifting Celeste to her hip. “I don’t mind.”
Maybe that would make things easier. But, on second thought, maybe not. Olivia shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I need to do this alone. Except maybe for Jake. Just in case.”
“All right. Be careful. And let me know how it goes.”
Olivia waved as she drove away. Why was she comfortable driving the carriage, but terrified at the thought of approaching a horse any other way? There must be a reason.
Lord, why am I so fearful? No one else seems to have a problem like mine. Please help me.
She drove around to the barn and pulled up by the sycamore tree. Jake came out to meet her with his friendly smile. He’d come to work for her father when she was only nine and was more of a friend than an employee. She started to climb down from the carriage, then stopped. “I’ll drive them in, Jake. I want to help get them unharnessed.”
He shot her a startled look. “Are you sure about this, Miss Olivia?”
“Yes, I am. But promise you won’t tell anyone.”
“You want me to lie?”
Olivia almost laughed at the horror in his voice. He’d no more think of lying to her father than he’d think of slapping him across the face.
“No, of course not. But you don’t have to mention it, do you? That’s not lying.”
“Well, I don’t know. Don’t like keeping things from your pa.”
“Well, goodness, it’s not as if I’m doing something wrong, is it?”
He grinned. “I reckon not. All right, guess I won’t spill the beans. I’m glad you decided to tackle your fears.”
Heaven’s sake! How many other people knew she was afraid of horses?
* * *
Charles banged on the director’s oak door. What in tarnation was taking her so long?
“I’m coming! Don’t beat the door down.” P.H. flung it open, her glare boring through Charles’s skull. “What is it?”
“I need to talk to you about something important, if you have time.”
She stood aside. “All right. Come in.” She sat down in her desk chair, and waved him to the seat across from her. One blond curl escaped the severe bun on the back of her head, belying her fifty-some-odd years. Her eyes softened into their usual kind expression. “Obviously, something has you in a dither. What’s wrong?”
He leaned forward. “Olivia Shepherd has this fool idea that the girl students should be included in the riding class.”
A glimmer of interest brightened the director’s blue eyes. “Really? That’s a wonderful idea.” She peered at him intently. “Obviously, you don’t think so. Why not?”
He snorted. “She thinks she’s going to teach them.”
Surprise filled her eyes. “Well, that is interesting. And why does she think she’s more qualified than you?”
He sighed. “Well, to be honest, it wasn’t exactly that way.”
“I suggest, to save time and to prevent me from kicking you out of my office, you tell me what way it was. Start from the beginning and don’t hem and haw around.”
Charles fought a grin. No one could accuse P.H. Wellington of being subtle. He took a deep breath and told her the story from beginning to end.
Amusement danced in her eyes when he’d finished. “Serves you right.”
“I know, but you’ll help me get out of it, won’t you? Tell her it’s not a good idea?” He threw her a hopeful look.
“Absolutely not. I think it’s a fine idea.” She scooted her chair out and stood. “So do what you need to do to implement this. I’ll leave the scheduling up to you, since you’re in charge of the program.”