Chapter 18: North Star Horses

*I’m always here for you, no matter what. – Athos*

After they ate, Athos went upstairs to get a shower while Priscilla cleaned up the kitchen. The plates and silverware were loaded into the dishwasher before she started washing the cast iron skillet.  She was rinsing the skillet when Ink came down the stairs with their dishes.

“You can leave them on the counter, and I’ll get them,” she motioned with her head to the space next to the sink.

He sat the tray down as she placed the skillet in the oven and turned the oven to a low temperature. “Evie does that too, what the heck is it for?”

Priscilla chuckled as she returned to the sink and started rinsing the dishes on the tray. “Cast iron is a high maintenance whore. She wants to be treated like she’s special and she’ll give you anything that she wants. But you don’t take care of her, and she’ll catch an STD called rust.”

Ink arched an eyebrow at her.   “It’s going to get a sexually transmitted disease?”

“No,” she shook her head as she rinsed dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. “Serious time demands.”

With a small groan followed by a laugh, he kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”

“For the bad joke?”

“For helping around the house. You know that you don’t have too.”

“This? This is nothing. You should see breakfast at my house. That’s a lot more work.”

“I’m sure it is,” He chuckled as Athos joined them and she added a pod to the dishwasher and started it. “Are you going out to the Star?”

“Yeah,” Athos said grabbing a potholder and pulling the pan out of the oven. He sprayed something on it and placed it back in the oven. “When the timer goes off, turn off the oven.” He paused and then pointed to the control panel where he had just set the timer. “You just push the on off button.”

Ink flipped the younger man off as Priscilla laughed at the two.

“He trusts you more than he trusts Camille,” she told Ink.

“Fuck you, too,” the older man laughed and flipped her off with both hands.

Bundled up against the wind, Priscilla climbed behind Athos on the back of his bike. The ride to the North Star Ranch was uneventful and over before Priscilla was ready. She was grateful that with the other events that happened, Athos had forgotten about her arm and the fight with Leo. It was not far from her own mind and eventually she would talk to Carly about it. But not today.

Carly was a psychologist who ran a working ranch that focused on mental health and troubled youth. She currently had five or six boys that lived in her group home and twice as many employees. Between her patients, staff, foster kids and volunteers, she kept her ranch running smoothly.

Last year, after Michelle and her brothers were taken from her father, she spent nearly a year at the ranch. She was recovering from anorexia and the abuse that she suffered at her father’s hands. Michelle and her brothers still saw Carly, just as their grandparents did.

When Priscilla and Athos checked in at the main building, Carly admitted that she had already heard about the suicide. She advised the teens that she and the other therapists would be available if needed. They signed out their preferred horses and headed for the barn.

“I texted Michelle and Aramis,” Athos admitted as they saddled their horses. “He’s on the bus and said that he’d text Megan.”

Priscilla nodded as she knelt to adjust the stirrup on her saddle. Realizing that he could not see her since he was on the other side of Princess, gave a small laugh. “I’m over here nodding like you can see through my horse. You haven’t acquired x-ray vision, have you?”

“If I could do that, do you know how many boobs I’d be seeing?” he chuckled as he adjusted the cheek piece on the bridle on his stallion, Rooster Cogburn. “I mean other than Camille’s.”

She gave a startled laugh and checked her own bridle. “I texted her and she placed in her platform dive. One of the girls smuggled half a bottle of vodka in her bag.”

As they grinned at each other over the back of the sorrel mare, they quoted their friend almost in unison. “Worst use of a potato since a French bitch dropped one in hot grease.”

They were both satisfied with the fit of the saddles and bridles and guided the two horses out of the barn. As they reached the door, they saw Michelle and Megan approaching from the main building. Leaving the two horses on either side of the wide center aisle, they moved to get the two mares that the others usually rode. Michelle usually rode Princess’s mother, Queen Anne, and Megan rode the buckskin named after Dolly Parton.

Once the horses were all saddled and ready, the four teens took a leisurely ride through the trails to the meadow. In a few weeks, the weather would turn even colder, and a snowball fight would ensue. Possibly even making an army of snow angels. And in a few more weeks, there could be a snowman building competition.

But the light snow that drifted down every so often did not stick enough to do anything with. The flakes were hardly even big enough to try to catch with your tongue.

Megan’s phone buzzed and she opened her messaging app to see that Aramis was back and headed to the Cookie Jar. The small bakery restaurant owned by Priscilla’s aunt had quickly become their hangout after it opened in August.

“My man is headed to the Cookie Jar,” Megan told them as she tucked her phone back in her pocket. “Anyone else want a coffee?”

“Hell, yeah,” Priscilla turned Princess back towards the trail to the barns. “My ass is nearly frozen to this leather!”

She could not tell her friends that while they were riding and the others were probably thinking about Amelia Haughton and how she did not feel like she could live up to her parent’s expectations, Priscilla was thinking about how she was going to hide the bruises on her arm.

There was shame in the fact that she had allowed a man to mark her like that. To put fear in her over what he wanted, and she did not. And now she was second guessing herself. Should she have given him what he wanted? Would she have actually enjoyed it?

Once back in the barn, they removed saddles and brushed down the horses. The process of caring for another living creature is therapeutic, healing. When the tears began to fall from Priscilla’s eyes as she brushed Princess, Megan and Michelle assumed it was because of the classmate that she had lost.

Athos knew better.

He had said nothing to her since last night and had barely said anything then. Walking away from his own horse, he pulled her into a tight hug and held her while she cried. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she let him guide her towards the bench by the stall.

Sitting down, he pulled her into his lap and held her while the tears flowed. He still said nothing about what happened or what his opinion was. And she was very grateful for this.

Once the other girls were done with their horses, they moved to finish the other two. Saddles were cleaned and all the tack was put away in the large room. Water and hay were provided in the stalls before Megan headed for the car and Michelle indicated to her boyfriend that they were ready to leave.

“Why don’t you ride with them into town?” he murmured against Priacilla's hair.

She nodded and stood up to leave. Michelle handed her a small package of facial tissues that she grabbed from the tack room. Priscilla accepted the package and smiled her thanks before leaving the couple alone.

Sitting in the back of the car, Priscilla was jealous of the relationship that she saw between her friend and his girl. Michelle was timid and easily spooked. Athos was a giant cinnamon roll golden retriever. But she also knew that the jalapeno laced grizzly bear could come out if provoked.

Over coffees, Athos made an admission about his brother, Tank. “I’ve never thought about it. I mean not seriously. Honestly, I think that it would ruin my brother, he’s an ass, don’t get me wrong, but deep down he’s still a good guy.”

“I thought about when I got pregnant and dumped,” Megan admitted as she leaned into Aramis.

He kissed the top of her head and looked at the sleeping baby in the carrier. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Me, too,” she grinned at him.

“Gag,” Athos grinned at his friends as he placed an arm around his own girlfriend.