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The Horse Whisperer(122)

By:Nicholas Evans


'He had no choice.'

'He did. It was hard as hell, but he could have gone on. Gone on making himself more and more unhappy. But what he chose to do instead was to go to the brink and look beyond. And he saw what was there and he chose to accept it.'

He turned to Grace and put his hands on her shoulders. 'What just happened to him, laying down like that, was the worst thing he could imagine. And you know what? He found out it was okay. Even you standing on him was okay. He saw you meant him no harm. The darkest hour comes before the dawn. That was Pilgrim's darkest hour and he survived it. Do you understand?'

Grace was wiping her tears and trying to make sense of it. 'I don't know,' she said. 'I think so.'

Tom turned and looked at Annie and she saw something soft and imploring in his eyes now, something at last that she knew and could latch on to.

'Annie? Do you understand? It's real, real important you understand this. Sometimes what seems like surrender isn't surrender at all. It's about what's going on in our hearts. About seeing clearly the way life is and accepting it and being true to it, whatever the pain, because the pain of not being true to it is far, far greater. Annie, I know you understand this.'

She nodded and wiped her eyes and tried to smile. She knew there was some other message here, one that was only for her. It was not about Pilgrim but about them and what was happening between them. But although she pretended to, she didn't understand it and could only hope that the time would come when she might.

Grace watched them undo Pilgrim's hobble and the ropes tied to his halter and saddle. He lay there a moment, looking up at them with one eye, not moving his head. Then, a little uncertainly, he staggered to his feet. He shrugged and whinnied and blew and then took a few steps to see he was all in one piece.

Tom told Grace to lead him to the tank at the side of the arena and she stood beside him while he took a good long drink. When he'd finished he lifted his head and yawned and everyone laughed.

'There go the butterflies!' Joe called.

Then Tom put the bridle back on and told Grace to put her foot in the stirrup. Pilgrim stood still as a house. Tom took her weight on his shoulder and she swung her leg and sat in the saddle.

She felt no fear. She walked him first one way around the arena then the other. Then she took him up to a lope and it was fine and collected and smooth as silk.

It was a while before she realized everyone was cheering, just like they had the day she rode Gonzo.

But this was Pilgrim. Her Pilgrim. He'd come through. And she could feel him beneath her, like he always used to be, giving and trusting and true.





Chapter Thirty-four




The party was Frank's idea. He said he had it from the horse's mouth: Pilgrim had told him he wanted a party so a party there would be. He phoned Hank and Hank said he was up for it. What's more, he said, he had a houseful of bored cousins up from Helena and they were up for it too. By the time they'd called everyone they could think of, it had gone from being a small party to a midsize party to a big one and Diane was having fifty fits wondering how she was going to feed them all.

'Hell, Diane,' Frank said. 'We can't let Annie and Grace drive two thousand miles home with that old horse of theirs without giving them a good send-off.'

Diane shrugged and Tom could see her thinking why the hell not?

'And dancing,' Frank said. 'We gotta have dancing.'

'Dancing? Oh come on!'

Frank asked Tom what he thought and Tom said he thought dancing would be fine. So Frank called Hank again and Hank said he'd bring his sound system over and they could have the colored lights too if they wanted. He was there within the hour and the men and the kids rigged it all up outside the barn while Diane, shamed at last to better humor, drove Annie down to Great Falls to get the food.

By seven, everything was ready and they all went off to clean up and change.

As he came out of the shower, Tom caught sight of the blue robe by the door and felt a dull lurching inside him. He thought the robe might still smell of her but when he pressed it to his face it smelled of nothing.

He hadn't had a chance to be alone with Annie since Grace came back and he felt their separation like some cruel physical excision. The sight of her tears for Pilgrim had made him want to run to her and hold her. Not being able to touch her was almost more than he could bear.

He dressed slowly and lingered in his room, listening to the cars arriving and the laughter and the music starting up. When he looked out he saw there was already a crowd. It was a fine clear evening. The lights were finding a glow in the fading light. Clouds of smoke drifted slowly from the barbecue where he should be helping Frank. He searched the faces and found her. She was talking with Hank. She was wearing a dress he hadn't seen before, dark blue and sleeveless. As he watched, she threw her head back and laughed at something Hank said. Tom thought how beautiful she was. He'd never felt less like laughing in his life.