Read We Can Laugh Together Too (Walnut Grove Trilogy) Online
Authors: Cindy Baker
We Can Laugh Together Too (Walnut Grove Trilogy)
© Copyright 2013 by Cindy Baker -
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and
locations portrayed in this book and the names herein are fictitious. Any
similarity to or identification with the locations, names, characters or
history of any person, product or entity is entirely coincidental and
unintentional.
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T
his
book is dedicated to the three most important people in my life: my husband,
Colin, with whom I followed my heart, and my daughters Sarah and Anna, both of
whom have followed their hearts and found their true loves . . .
Livi bolted the barn door and leaned her back wearily against
it for a several seconds completely exhausted. For the first time since Will’s death
a seed of doubt that maybe she couldn’t after all manage Walnut Grove on her own
had crept pervasively into the crevices of her mind.
She took a deep breath and tried to cast the thought aside.
Of course she could manage; she may devote much of her time to working as a writer
but she had also enjoyed assisting Will and Jose for fifteen years. She understood
the farm and its horses inside out. She had to keep going; she owed it to both
of them.
Resolutely, she brushed an errant strand of honey blond hair
from her face and checked her watch. Nearly six o’clock — Christina would have
been home from school for more than an hour and probably finished her homework.
The thought of her daughter’s sunny, smiling face perked Livi up as she walked
across to the house followed closely by her two dogs.
Livi didn’t know how she could have coped throughout the
aftermath of the accident without her daughter. Christina — Chrissy — was
mature beyond her fourteen years and had become a solid support for her newly widowed
mother.
The accident had occurred late at night as Will and his
foreman, Jose returned after picking up their champion mare from the track.
They were bringing her back to embark upon a brand new career as a broodmare.
But none of them had made it home to Walnut Grove. The driver of a big-rig travelling
in the opposite direction on the interstate had fallen asleep at the wheel,
causing his vehicle to veer through the dividing fence and hit Will’s pickup
truck and horse trailer head on. There had been no survivors.
Life can be taken away in the blink of an eye. One minute Livi
had her husband, then in a matter of a few seconds her heart had been shattered
into a million pieces. One of the two people she cared for most in the world
had been torn from her. Six months had passed since that fatal, irrefutably life
changing night.
When the two men had been alive, the farm had run like
clockwork, focusing upon breeding quality thoroughbreds which they sold as
yearlings. The stock comprised of their own three broodmares plus their followers;
they also boarded a mare belonging to a long-time family friend.
After the accident, Livi put her writing profession on hold.
She had also taken the only feasible course open to her with the three mares
she owned and sent them away to foal. Normally they would have remained at home,
shipping later to the farms where the studs they would be bred to again were
housed.
The boarding mare had stayed at home for her delivery; it
was a financial decision since while she remained at Walnut Grove she earned Livi
a monthly check for her keep. Livi also had all last year’s offspring to watch
over and care for. Collectively, they represented the entire year’s potential
earnings for the farm.
Three weeks earlier when one by one the mares started
arriving home again, Livi had begun to fully comprehend the implications of
what she was undertaking. Rapidly she had a full quota of stock on her hands:
mares and foals plus their last year’s foals, now strapping and rambunctious
yearlings.
Livi knew all too well that her survival depended upon her
finding a new foreman quickly. The problem was: how? She had been running ads
in several well-read breeding publications but so far there hadn’t been a
single inquiry.
She opened the back door and entered the kitchen. The two
dogs made a beeline for their food bowls and set about their dinners with
gusto, tails wagging. Chrissy’s schoolbooks covered the table but her daughter
was standing at the stove stirring a big pan.
She was a younger, already taller, mirror image of her
mother with the same honey blond hair and expressive hazel-green eyes; a beauty
in the making. She had kicked off her shoes and her feet were bare on the
Spanish tiled kitchen floor.
“Hi Mom,” she said. “I guessed you wouldn’t feel like
cooking so I’ve started dinner.”
Livi smiled wearily at her daughter. “You’re a mind reader. Chrissy,
I don’t know how I’d manage without you.”
Chrissy dumped her spoon on the counter and hugged her. “It’s
nothing special, just some soup I found in the freezer; I thought we could have
it with bread rolls. Oh, by the way, there’s a message on the machine from Doc
Blair. He can’t make it out tomorrow but his locum — can’t remember his name — that’s
covering for Doc Massey while he’s away on that course, will be out to check on
Ultimate Event’s foal late tomorrow morning.”
The foal, a pretty brown filly with a neat white blaze, had
cut her leg while loading into the horse van for her journey home. Doc Blair
had checked it and popped in a couple of stitches, and the filly appeared to
have healed beautifully.
Mother and daughter ate a quiet supper, and afterwards Livi
went into the little TV snug intending to watch the news. Five minutes after collapsing
onto the sofa she was sound asleep; her two Dalmatians snuggled close to her.
♠
♠ ♠
The following morning Livi was up as usual at six o’clock
and while the coffeemaker bubbled cheerfully on the counter-top, filling the
kitchen with a tantalizing aroma, she and the dogs checked on the horses and
fed the mares a scoop of oats each.
She loved the possibilities each new day bestowed. In spite
of everything, all the trials of the past six months had not managed to destroy
her inherently tough streak. She was by nature an optimist and she always faced
each morning as a challenge to be met head on. She had a perceptive sense of
humor and was fond of saying precisely what she thought. Most people who met
her were impressed by her candor and gentleness, particularly with the animals
in her life.
She and Will had met at a birthday party. He had instantly
been attracted to the English girl with natural good looks and tumble of honey
blond hair, while happy-go-lucky Livi had liked his quiet demeanor and surprising
insightfulness. At the end of the evening he had asked her out and they had
been together ever since – until his premature death. Livi was just thirty five
when he was killed; she’d been desolate at first finding herself such a young
widow, but she’d made up her mind it wouldn’t beat her; Walnut Grove would
continue exactly as it had with Will at the helm.
Back in the house, Livi popped two slices of wholemeal bread
into the toaster and poured a cup of coffee. Upstairs, she could hear water
splashing as Chrissy showered. She checked the big clock on the kitchen wall –
her daughter would have to hurry, the school bus passed their driveway a few
minutes either side of seven each morning. Before the accident had turned their
lives irretrievably upside-down, Livi had always driven her daughter to school,
but this indulgence was no longer practical; it ate up far too much precious
time.
After turning
out the horses, Livi set about the arduous business of mucking out the eight
stalls they occupied. It was a repetitive, mind-numbing task, and every morning
she silently thanked Will for his fore-thought in mechanizing it as much as
possible.
She was using the mini Bobcat he had bought to push all the
dirty straw out through the back door of the barn and onto the muck-heap, and so
absorbed was she in distant thoughts, she failed to hear the pickup truck when
it arrived at the barn’s front entrance. And she didn’t see the man who climbed
out and walked into the building until he stopped alongside the Bobcat and
spoke loudly enough to make himself heard above its noisy engine.
“Excuse me – I’m looking for Mrs. Leonard . . .”
Livi jumped, startled by the pleasantly resonant voice. “Oh,
I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I’m Livi Leonard.”
The stranger extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m
Doctor Allen -- Matt Allen. Doc Blair asked me to stop by and check the foal he
stitched up a couple of weeks ago.” His handshake was cool and assertive.
“Oh, my goodness, I should have kept them in but I
completely forgot you were coming,” Livi confessed. “The foal’s out with her
mom in the paddock over there.” She switched off the engine and jumped down
from the Bobcat.
The newcomer smiled. “No problem. Shall we go and take a
look?”
Livi grabbed a handful of carrots and a lead-rein from a
hook as they left the barn. While they walked down the track to the paddock
gate she cast a few surreptitious sideways glances at the newcomer. He was
certainly attractive, handsome even. She estimated him to be about forty years
old, a little less than six feet tall, with a friendly, good natured face, bright,
inoffensive blue eyes and curly hair the color of brown sugar.
He turned suddenly and smiled as he caught her looking at
him. Livi blushed self-consciously and returned his smile. “Sorry, you’re so
different from old Doc Blair or his partner. . .”
Matt regarded her quizzically for a moment. “Do you normally
apologize this much Mrs. Leonard, and do I detect a faint English accent?”
She burst out laughing. “Touché, and please call me Olivia --
Livi. I don’t think Doc Blair has ever called me ‘Mrs.’ since I’ve known him. Yes,
I was born in the UK, my parents moved here with me and my older brother when I
was twelve. The phone message said you’re here locuming?”
“That’s right. His partner’s away on a course, then he’s on
vacation for a month. I’m probably going to be around for nine or ten weeks.”
They reached the gate, which Matt unlatched then he stood
back to allow Livi to enter the paddock ahead of him. The four mares raised
their heads and considered them with curiosity. Two of the foals were flat out
in the grass asleep.
Matt swiftly inspected the foal’s leg and declared it
healed. He produced some scissors and an antiseptic spray from his pocket and
removed the stitches.
A few minutes later they were back at the barn next to his
truck. Matt extended his hand again, but Livi was reluctant to let him go that
easily. Most days passed without her ever having another human being to chat
with and she was appreciating this variation in the routine, no matter how
brief it might be.
“Do you have time for a coffee?” she asked a little
tentatively.
Matt considered, and then a quick smile flashed across his
face. “I’d love one.”
In the big, cozy kitchen, Livi busied herself with the
coffeemaker while Matt sat at the table watching her. Eventually he spoke: “Are
you really running this place single handed?”
Resigned to relating a full account of her circumstances, Livi
hunted through her pockets for a tissue, blew her nose, and sat down opposite him
to begin with the fateful, life changing knock on the door six months earlier.
Matt listened attentively without interrupting. During her
story, she poured them both a cup of coffee, and when eventually she finished,
she spread her hands expressively. “So there you have it. I’ve been advertising
for help but so far no-one’s shown the slightest interest.”
Matt sipped his coffee thoughtfully. At last, he said, “I
may have a solution for you. Before this contract I was a locum for a practice
further north and one of their clients had just sold his farm to a neighbor. Unfortunately,
the new owner wasn’t interested in keeping any of the staff.
“It isn’t a farm like this, mostly organic beef cattle, but
the guy kept a few quarter horses and a Hispanic called Isidoro took care of
them. He seemed good too, very conscientious. He has a wife, Rosa, if I
remember correctly. The last time I spoke to Isidoro he didn’t know which way
to turn because he was about to become jobless and homeless.”
Livi stared at him, wide-eyed with hope. “Do you really
think he might be interested? Hang on though -- does he speak English? My
knowledge of Spanish extends to just a few basic words and phrases. Jose was
Hispanic but he was totally bilingual.”
“His English is fine,” Matt assured her. “Heavily accented
maybe, but perfectly understandable.” He frowned, “but how about accommodation?
As I said, he has a wife and I believe they have a daughter.”
Livi nodded. “Jose, our foreman lived in a little house on
the other side of the farm. To be perfectly honest, I haven’t set foot in the
place since the accident, but I know the police went through it pretty
thoroughly, trying to find evidence of any relatives. They could have saved
their time because I told them he had no-one.”
Matt read the distress in her face. “Would you like me to
try to track Isidoro down?” he asked gently. “Don’t get your hopes up though;
it’s been a month since I last saw him. He may be long gone by now.”
“Oh, yes please” Livi replied emphatically, fetching the
coffee pot to refill their cups.
♠
♠ ♠
Several days passed, and Livi heard nothing further from
Matt. Then the following Friday, just as she was bringing the horses in for the
night, his pickup truck turned off the road onto the driveway
horses in for the nightt pretty thoroughly, trying to
trace any relative
. She quickly put the yearling she was leading into
his stall and hurried to meet him outside the barn door.