A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

The first of three chapters that deal with the races: Dawn

FRIDAY, June 24, 2016

Chef came to the women’s shelter at about noon, bringing in several tubs of ice cream. He found the women in the kitchen cleaning up from lunch, and the atmosphere was totally different from last week. He knocked at the kitchen door, and heard the warning “man at the door … no, it is only Chef.” Only two women scurried from the kitchen, while some of the others who had moved away came back, with smiles on their faces. Chef was safe. He had catered the best meal most of the women had last Friday, at his own expense, and now he was here delivering ice cream for a party tonight.

“Is there space in the freezer for five tubs?” Chef asked Dee, the counselor at the center. “Yes, and bless you for getting your hobo army to donate it. Now we can accept larger donations of food and keep it longer. It isn’t pretty, but it is keeping things cold.”

“Great. The guys in the army will be glad it is working out for you. They love tinkering with broken equipment, and making it work again. And when it is for a good cause it is all the better,” Chef said.

“Well you have been making this place better,” Dee said. “Some of the women are still terrified by men, understandable if you know what they went through. But with you and your cooks coming by last week, and then the donation of the freezer this week, they are making progress. A couple of them noticed the men patrolling the sidewalk in front of the house in the evening and into the night, and there was a bit of a panic until I explained that you had set that up to keep us safe. One of the girls was brave enough to take coffees out to them, and chatted with them for a while. Apparently she wound up getting an offer to accompany her to church on Sunday. A second girl went out with her the next night, and both of them will be going to church this weekend. A nice, safe place for getting back into the swing of dating.”

Just then Linda burst into the room, followed by her three little ones. The kids immediately swarmed Chef, who tousled Mark’s hair, and then picked up chocolate-skinned Ariel. Little Tanya just grabbed Chef’s leg, and didn’t let go, as their mother shyly watched her kids holding the man she wanted so much to hold herself. “What’s in the boxes?” Mark asked, looking at the ice cream tubs on the table.

“Ice cream,” Chef said gaily. “Chocolate, Mint Chocolate Chip, Death by Chocolate, Rocky Road, and Vanilla. “Do any of those sound good to you?” he asked Ariel, giving her a kiss on the cheek that nearly broke Linda’s heart.

“I likes chocolate,” the youngster lisped, holding tight to Chef’s neck.

“A real woman already,” Chef said, putting the pretty girl down. “Why don’t you and the other kids go find some books. I’ll read to you if you want. Only three stories though. You each pick one book.”

The kids immediately made a beeline for the lounge. Chef turned to Linda: “What flavors do you like?”

She steeled herself, and then said: “I like Chef most of all.”

Chef started. He was not used to be flirted with, especially by a woman as young and pretty as Linda. “You shouldn’t tease such an old man, sweetheart,” Chef said. “I’m 36 and you are what? 24?”

“Twenty one,” Linda said. “But I don’t think you are old at all. I think you are the best man I’ve ever met, except my father. No, better than even my father.”

“I’m old enough to be your father. You should be dating one of the other cooks I had here last week. They are closer to your age.”

“But I don’t want to date them. In fact, two other girls here have claimed them. Are you bringing them tonight?” Linda asked.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Chef said. “It’s only going to be ice cream and some pastries.”

“Oh, a couple of girls are going to be so disappointed.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Chef said. “I’ll make sure they come along.”

“They want to ask the boys to escort them to church,” Linda said. “Can you escort me?”

“I don’t know why you want a fat old man like me,” Chef protested.

“You aren’t fat,” Linda exclaimed. “You are big because your heart is so big. You love my kids. I can see it. And they love you. Can’t you love me too?”

Tears started welling up in the young girl’s eyes, and she sobbed once, and then twice. Chef’s resolve crumbled. He wrapped his beefy arms around the slender girl, and held her tightly. She had been about to run from the room, but instead just dissolved into his embrace, and the sobbing stopped.

“I do love you,” Chef said softly. “I have been dreaming about holding you like this for days.” He kissed her tenderly on the cheek, and then she turned and made it a full on kiss on the lips.

When they stepped apart, the girl said: “I thought you might not want me. I mean, I have three kids by three different men, and none of them have ever made me feel the way you do.”

“I would be honored to escort you to church on Sunday,” Chef purred. He looked up at Dee, who always wanted to be close when her girls interacted with men.

“It looks like we are going to have quite a few going to church on Sunday,” she said. “I’ll ask around, and see if any other girls want to go, unaccompanied.”

“If you, or they, want, I can get other volunteers to accompany them. They might not click as couples, but as you said, it is a nice, safe way for the girls to get back into dating. And all the men will know that if they decide to go further, and ask for a second date, they have to do it with your consent. I know that it is important for the girls that they go slow.”

“It is,” Dee said. “Now, if you could put that girl down I’d like to ask you something else. Run along and see if your kids have chosen their books yet, honey.”

With just the two of them in the kitchen, Dee spoke softly: “I have a problem, and you have been my go-to guy for solving problems lately. The house is full, but there is a girl in the hospital who was beaten by her drunken partner last night. They kept her there overnight, and she will be there tonight. She has two kids, and finally has decided to leave the brute. But we don’t have any room. I was wondering if you know of anyplace.”

“I’d take Linda and her kids in a minute,” Chef said. “But I am still living on a cot in the church shed. I’ll have an apartment in a few months, after I start working full time, but until then ... Besides: that is moving too fast.”

“I agree. But Linda is ready to move out now, thanks in a large part to you. But her welfare won’t cover an apartment alone, especially as she needs three bedrooms, ideally. Two would work while Mark is so young, but eventually he will need a room separate from his sisters. I wondered if you know of any single women who might be interested in sharing with a single mom and kids.”

Chef thought it through, and sadly shook his head. “No, I don’t know of anyone like that. But let me call my go-to girl on matters like this. I’m sure she will find something to help you out.” With that he rang Pastor Helen and asked her.

“Oh, I’m heading out to the reserve in a few hours,” she told him. “I don’t know of anyone right now, but let me give a call to my go-to girl. She might know someone.”

After Chef hung up, he put the ice cream in the freezer, and headed in to the lounge where every child in the place had gathered to listen to the three stories he had promised to read. Linda had Tanya on her lap, and had reserved a spot on the floor for Chef. He got down, and immediately had Mark and Ariel on his ample lap, holding their books. Other kids crowded around as the big man read the three stories, twice each.

---- -- ----- -- -

Rachael had just gotten off the bus. It was the last day of work for the driver until fall, but she was not sad. When they had gotten to the farm, Rachael had pulled out a bakery box with three of Mike’s new cream puffs, the new Friday special at the Bread Barron. The bus driver had a look of ecstasy on her face as she finished the creamy delight, eaten while Rachael and Robert enjoyed theirs at the lane into the farm. “I’m going to miss you kids,” the driver said. “I have to get the office to move me to a high school bus next year. That was heavenly. What route are you on, Rachael?”

“Well, I will probably walk to school most of the time, at least until the snow hits. But I will still probably be coming out here on occasion. I think I’ll keep Robert here for another year or two,” she teased.

The banter continued as they walked up the lane to the farmhouse, when Rachael’s phone rang. It was Pastor Helen. She explained the problem that Dee was having at the house, and the need for somewhere for Linda and family to live, so the new girl could move into the shelter. Rachael had an idea almost immediately. Miss Lajoie, Bobby’s piano teacher, who lived next door to Grandpa and the Barrons. She didn’t get along with men, but would possibly take in a single mother and kids. She was alone in her big house, and had told Rachael that the upstairs had three bedrooms and a bath that were never used.

“Elizabeth Lajoie?” Helen asked. “I think that name is on the church rolls, but I have never met her. I don’t think she attends.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Rachael replied. She knew that Miss Lajoie was in need of additional income, and sharing rent and possibly food would help her, as well as giving Linda and her kids a safe place to live.

“I think I will head out now for a pastoral visit,” Pastor Helen said.

---- - --- - --

Miss Lajoie was surprised to see the young pastor at the door. Luckily she had no more lessons scheduled for the day, so she invited the woman in. Three hours later the two women were in tears, not having mentioned once the idea of renting out the upstairs.

As they had talked Miss Lajoie had quickly taken to the energetic young pastor, and started opening up to her. She went to some of the dark places in her life, when she was in high school, and a friend of the family had started molesting her. It had continued for nearly a year, and she was nearly suicidal at the end, when her parents finally found out.

The molester went to jail, and like so many others of his type, failed to live long in custody once the other inmates discovered his crime. But the damage was done, and Elizabeth quit school, and pretty much quit life. She just sat in the empty house for the next ten years and played her piano and other instruments. Music was the only thing that kept her alive.

Then, at age 26, disaster struck again. A drunken man speeding through an intersection killed both her parents. Another man had taken the loves of her life. She was alone, with a small inheritance and her parent’s house. And a phobia about being in public where men were.

After a few years, she realized that she was slowly working her way through the inheritance, and would need an income. A real job was out of the question, with the phobia. She hit upon the idea of piano lessons for children. That slowed the decline in savings, but only somewhat. She still needed money.

“Perhaps I have an answer,” Pastor Helen said. “There is a young woman with three children, a boy and two girls who desperately needs a home. She could rent your upstairs, and the income would help your situation.”

“A boy? How old?” Elizabeth asked.

“Five I think,” Pastor Helen said.

“That’s okay,” the piano teacher said. It would be 10 years before the boy started turning into a man, and she was able to handle boys of 15. To her surprise, she got along well with the 15-year-old boy who cut her grass in return for music lessons.

“Can I think about it?” Miss Lajoie asked.

“Not really,” Pastor Helen said. “I’m already late for my trip to Six Nations, and they want to be able to move in tomorrow. There is a lady in the hospital right now that will have to go back to her abusive boyfriend if they can’t make a room for her at the shelter.”

“I will do it then,” Miss Lajoie decided.

----- -- -------

Rachael had a busy afternoon at the farm. The entire family was planning to camp out that night at the races, with the twins taking turns coming back to look after the farm. Mr. Jackson and JJ would also come home at milking times, but the rest of the clan was camping out in the field adjacent to the racecourse.

Through the afternoon there were countless trips in the pickup truck, containing tents and equipment. One tent was for Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, while another was for Rachael and Lisa, who was proud to not have to share with her parents. She took it as her growing up, while everyone else knew that her presence in the tent was as a chaperone, should Robert decide to visit.

Robert and whichever twin was not at the farm shared another tent, and JJ and Ruby also had one. There was also a large family tent where cooking could be done if it rained (knock wood). They would stay until after the last race on Sunday, and then head home. They also had to erect a temporary corral for Blackie and Dutchess. This was shared with another farm who had five horses for the various races. They too camped, not far from the Jacksons. Apparently supper tonight was to be a tailgate style barbeque, with Rachael contributing Clouds and pastries for the entire party. She couldn’t complain: she got steaks from Ruby’s and Mrs. Jackson’s fantastic cooking.

After they ate, Rachael and Robert went over to the corral, and got Blackie. Robert saddled the stallion, since Rachael wanted to test out the course for tomorrow’s race.

“We only have about an hour of good light left,” Robert noted. “You ride him first, and I’ll try to get a session in early tomorrow. “

“Your Dad will have to run him tomorrow morning,” Rachael said. “Why don’t the two of us ride double. Our combined weight is less then your Dad’s probably. Plus it will allow us to talk about the course as we ride. We will only be walking through most of the course, anyway.”

“I’m good with it, if Blackie is,” Robert said. The saddle was big enough for two, especially if they liked each other. Rachael mounted first, to Blackie’s delight, and then Robert scrambled aboard, confusing the horse, who had never carried two before. But Rachael fed some calming into him, but not much was needed. These were his two favorite riders, and he trusted them.

Rachael was in the front, with Robert nestled tight in behind him, which the girl found she really enjoyed. His feet were in the stirrups, with her shorter legs leaving her feet dangling, or nestled tight to the tops of his boots.

There were a few others out on the course, many of them running it full out. Of course their horses would not be running five races over the next two days, so they could give them a good workout on Friday. Rachael and Robert just walked the course, noting potential problem areas.

Rachael pointed out one to Robert. “There are briars on that corner,” she said. “It looks like the best line on the corner is tight, but I would want Blackie at least two feet out from those briars. He has a lot of heart, and will still win a race if he is scratched badly, but it would probably disqualify him from the other races if he is bleeding.” A vet was on site, and had to approve each horse for the race.

A little further on, they came to the first of the two gullies. It was actually a farm drain, the same one that created the second gully near the race end. There had been almost no rain over the last week, so the bottom of the gully was dry, except for a small trickle of water at the middle.

“Hop off here,” Rachael said. “I want to take the gully at a run. I think Blackie can take it in a leap. Most other horses will have to take it slowly down the gully. Even your Dad. I don’t think Blackie can leap it in one go with that kind of weight. We should be able to clear it. Watch where I take off, and land, and you try to match that in your race. If we can do this at the other gully, we are a cinch to win our races.”

Robert slid off, and then adjusted the stirrups to match Rachael’s height. He was pretty sure that she could make the jump without stirrups: she rode the horse bareback after all. But loose stirrups would bother Blackie, and Robert didn’t want to risk either his horse or his girlfriend.

Robert then scrambled down the gully, leapt over the water, and climbed out as Rachael rode back a ways to get up speed. She turned the horse around and saw Robert on the other side. She waved him over, since he was standing quite close to where she wanted to land the stallion. Then she took off.

Blackie was at full speed when they got to the edge of the gully. The stallion was happy. This was the way he wanted to run, not the slow walk he had done up to this point. At the edge of the gully Rachael leaned forward, the signal for him to jump, and he did. He landed a good yard past the edge of the gully, and ran clear for another few seconds until Rachael was able to slow him to a walk and turn him back towards her boyfriend.

Robert again adjusted the stirrups, and climbed back on behind Rachael. “You took that well. He cleared it with nearly four feet to spare. I’m sure that I will be able to jump it too. Dad will have to clamber down.”

As they talked, two horses racing each other came to the gully. One slowed and clambered down the side and up the other. The other, having seen Blackie make the jump from back on the course, attempted to leap the gully. His horse fell short, with his fore hooves digging into the side of the gully, and the horse and rider somersaulting over the rim. The rider was thrown, and the horse lay on the ground, mewling in pain.

Rachael and Robert were both off their horse in a second, and ran to the fallen. Robert went to the older teen rider, while Rachael went directly to the fallen horse.

She touched his foreleg, and immediately started pushing painkilling into the beast. Then she looked inside, and to her horror saw that both front legs were broken, a death sentence for a horse.

She immediately pulled on all the powers that had been given her, and started to mend bones and repair sinews.

It took several minutes for Robert to rouse the rider, and get him sitting up again. “I’ve killed Sprite,” he moaned, not wanting to go near his downed horse. Soon he was standing and walked back to the horse, leaning heavily on Robert’s shoulder. “Is he …” he said. “Did he break a leg?” Sprite was lying on his side, panting heavily, but no longer crying. He could feel that this girl was helping him, and his trust in her steadily increased.

“No,” Rachael lied. “He won’t race tomorrow. In fact, forever. But I don’t think you will have to put him down. Why did you attempt the jump?”

The young man sank to the ground and hugged the neck of his horse. “I saw you make the jump on your horse, and wanted to try for it. Clearing that could make the difference between winning, and just a good time.”

“Blackie is several hands bigger than your horse. Your attempt nearly cost you Sprite’s life,” Rachael said. She continued to mend bones, which had shattered in several places.”

“What are you doing?” the man said.

“I’m feeling for breaks,” Rachael lied again. She was nearly done. The bones would be weak, but the horse should be able to walk. If the site vet x-rays him, he will probably find small breaks, and will put casts on both legs, but he won’t feel the need to put the animal down.

“What happened, Ty?” an older rider called as he scrambled up the gully. Rachael immediately noticed the family resemblance. The new man was clearly the father of the younger man.

“They fell trying to leap the gully,” Rachael said. “I think Sprite might have some minor tears or breaks. He shouldn’t be ridden, at least until after the vet sees him. He should be walked back to the camp.” She stepped back, and the horse immediately scrambled to his feet. He had a severe limp now, and Ty and his father walked him back to the camp, taking a direct route that had a bridge over the gully.

Rachael was exhausted from her cure, and could barely get onto Blackie, although Robert did manage to help her aboard. His face was red for having had to put his hands where he did to boost her up, and he climbed up after.

They walked the next part of the course, and Rachael started to regain her strength as they pointed out tracks to take, and spots to break for turns and dips. When they got to the second gully they saw it was several yards shorter than the other. Sprite might have made this leap.

“I can’t jump again,” Rachael said, sliding off the horse. She immediately headed down the side of the gully. “You take Blackie back, and get him up to speed for the jump.

Robert didn’t have to adjust the stirrups, but sat still on the horse as he watched Rachael scramble down the gully, and jump the water. The girl had trouble getting back up the other side, and Robert was about to dismount and go help her when she finally made it to the top of the other side. She crawled to the edge of the track, and sat there, breathing heavily. She waved Robert to go back and make his run.

Blackie cleared the track easily. “I think a lot of riders will try to make that jump,” she said, slowly getting to her feet as Blackie returned. Your Dad might even be able to make it, but I’d warn against it. Blackie will have run the course twice already, but he will have two more runs to make.”

“There won’t be any skinny riders in the over 45 class, so I suspect he will be able to make it in a scamble, Robert noted.

“Wait. Look over there,” Rachael said, pointing to a tuft of grass in the gully, near the far side of the course. Run over there and see if it is solid, and how big it is.”

Robert dismounted, and scrambled back into the gully, then stood atop the tuffet. It’s pretty solid, he said, jumping up and down. It’s four feet wide, and five across.”

“Perfect,” Rachael said as he scrambled back to the horse. She still didn’t have the strength to mount, so Robert had to help her up again. “Don’t get used to putting your hands there,” she teased, “at least not for a couple more years.”

“Come on, Rach,” he moaned with a red face. “I’m only trying to help. Although I have to admit it feels pretty nice.”

They walked back to the camp, and Robert offered to wipe Blackie down. Rachael was exhausted, but didn’t want to abandon her friend, so she wiped down his legs, scanning to make sure that there were no injuries or weak spots.

Finally she staggered off to the tent she shared with Lisa and crawled into her sleeping bag. She turned on her side, facing the tent wall, to pray.

Dear Lord

Thank you for allowing me to be there when Sprite went down. He is one of your creatures, and he didn’t deserve to die because of a stupid mistake by his rider. I hope you can convince his owners to pay to have him saved. I know there are a lot of horsemen who will consider a horse that can’t race to be a waste, and have him put down. I wish I was rich enough to buy him. He is a pretty horse.

Amen