realizes the man looks a lot worse when he
hasn’t had the time to get started on his own coffee. He’s like a zombie as he
fixes himself a cup, which consists of pouring the coffee in and nothing else. After
four sips, he looks a little less worse for the wear.
“The last time a guy was here, it took him six days to make
his own breakfast.” Grant rubs at his eyes and stifles a yawn with his fist as
he stares into the pan of fries. His eyebrow quirks at the same time that his
lips twist wryly at the corners. “Not sure how to make hash browns?” Troy
shrugs and begins plating without an answer.
He’s not in the mood to talk this morning. Grant seems to understand
that as they sit down, and he seems mechanical at he eats. Troy isn’t any better.
“Cassidy’s not coming to exercise the horses today. She’s
not feeling well, so I’m going to need your help with that.” A fry gets caught
in the hit man’s throat, and he gently beats on his chest with a fist as he
coughs, attempting to dislodge it.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Grant has a gleam in his
eye that is a little too mischievous for Troy’s taste.
“I’ll need your help with the horses.” Yeah, that’s what
I thought you said Troy mentally adds as he digs into his eggs. Today is
only going to get worse it seems.
“What’s wrong with Cassidy?” The old man glances up at him
and shrugs a shoulder as he takes both their plates and starts to rinse them.
Chapter Four
“Don’t walk behind him! Don’t you remember what happened
last time you did that with a horse?” Grant’s loud tone is not going to help
the situation, but Troy does as the old man says and remains in front of the
horse. Beethoven is not fond of him, and it’s obvious by the way the horse’s
eyes roll back into his head when Troy gets close.
The chestnut mustang stomps his feet with his agitation and
chomps at his bit while Troy tries to get him to walk out to the ring. His
chest still aches from the other day, and last night he bled a little on his
shirt. Beethoven sidesteps away from the man leading him and throws his head up
into the air. There’s enough of a lead that it doesn’t jerk Troy forward, but
he braces for it anyway.
“Calm down! The way you’re feeling right now is the way he
feels about you. He can smell your fear from the way you’re perspiring, and he
can see the way your muscles are tensed each time you make eye contact. Take in
a few deep breaths and relax.” The old man speaks as if he’s talking to a
child, and Troy, against his better judgment, closes his eyes as he holds onto
the lead. Instead of focusing on the fact that a one thousand pound horse is in
front of him, he tries to think about something that used to make him happy.
“The pony should be purple! That one’s not green!” Her
chubby fingers grab for the crayon before Troy can ruin the coloring book, and
he takes the purple one she hands him. Lilly’s fingers grasp for a pink one as
she starts coloring her own My Little Pony picture that Troy hunted the
internet for.
“Sorry, kid. I’ll get it right someday.” There’s a lot in
those words. Spending time with her makes him remember that there is something good
in this world.
“Someday,” her tiny voice pipes up as she reaches a hand
over to put on his forearm. Warmth envelopes him as he colors in her coloring
book, a privilege that no one else has. She reminds him love still exists.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking of, it’s working.” The voice
by his ear makes him jump and almost yelp at the same time. He’s getting slow
since he hasn’t been on the job in over three weeks. Cassidy’s hand is resting
on his arm where he imagined Lilly’s to be just moments before.
“What are you doing here? You’re Dad said you weren’t coming
today because you’re sick.” Her hand slides off his arm as she turns to look at
her father sitting on one of the fences with his eyes upon them. Troy doubts he
can
hasn’t had the time to get started on his own coffee. He’s like a zombie as he
fixes himself a cup, which consists of pouring the coffee in and nothing else. After
four sips, he looks a little less worse for the wear.
“The last time a guy was here, it took him six days to make
his own breakfast.” Grant rubs at his eyes and stifles a yawn with his fist as
he stares into the pan of fries. His eyebrow quirks at the same time that his
lips twist wryly at the corners. “Not sure how to make hash browns?” Troy
shrugs and begins plating without an answer.
He’s not in the mood to talk this morning. Grant seems to understand
that as they sit down, and he seems mechanical at he eats. Troy isn’t any better.
“Cassidy’s not coming to exercise the horses today. She’s
not feeling well, so I’m going to need your help with that.” A fry gets caught
in the hit man’s throat, and he gently beats on his chest with a fist as he
coughs, attempting to dislodge it.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Grant has a gleam in his
eye that is a little too mischievous for Troy’s taste.
“I’ll need your help with the horses.” Yeah, that’s what
I thought you said Troy mentally adds as he digs into his eggs. Today is
only going to get worse it seems.
“What’s wrong with Cassidy?” The old man glances up at him
and shrugs a shoulder as he takes both their plates and starts to rinse them.
Chapter Four
“Don’t walk behind him! Don’t you remember what happened
last time you did that with a horse?” Grant’s loud tone is not going to help
the situation, but Troy does as the old man says and remains in front of the
horse. Beethoven is not fond of him, and it’s obvious by the way the horse’s
eyes roll back into his head when Troy gets close.
The chestnut mustang stomps his feet with his agitation and
chomps at his bit while Troy tries to get him to walk out to the ring. His
chest still aches from the other day, and last night he bled a little on his
shirt. Beethoven sidesteps away from the man leading him and throws his head up
into the air. There’s enough of a lead that it doesn’t jerk Troy forward, but
he braces for it anyway.
“Calm down! The way you’re feeling right now is the way he
feels about you. He can smell your fear from the way you’re perspiring, and he
can see the way your muscles are tensed each time you make eye contact. Take in
a few deep breaths and relax.” The old man speaks as if he’s talking to a
child, and Troy, against his better judgment, closes his eyes as he holds onto
the lead. Instead of focusing on the fact that a one thousand pound horse is in
front of him, he tries to think about something that used to make him happy.
“The pony should be purple! That one’s not green!” Her
chubby fingers grab for the crayon before Troy can ruin the coloring book, and
he takes the purple one she hands him. Lilly’s fingers grasp for a pink one as
she starts coloring her own My Little Pony picture that Troy hunted the
internet for.
“Sorry, kid. I’ll get it right someday.” There’s a lot in
those words. Spending time with her makes him remember that there is something good
in this world.
“Someday,” her tiny voice pipes up as she reaches a hand
over to put on his forearm. Warmth envelopes him as he colors in her coloring
book, a privilege that no one else has. She reminds him love still exists.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking of, it’s working.” The voice
by his ear makes him jump and almost yelp at the same time. He’s getting slow
since he hasn’t been on the job in over three weeks. Cassidy’s hand is resting
on his arm where he imagined Lilly’s to be just moments before.
“What are you doing here? You’re Dad said you weren’t coming
today because you’re sick.” Her hand slides off his arm as she turns to look at
her father sitting on one of the fences with his eyes upon them. Troy doubts he
can
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