Melissa was not arriving in style. Her battered yellow taxi was a jarring contrast to the twilight elegance of Deer Creek Farm's paved courtyard. She paid the driver and slid out, pulling her scuffed suitcase behind her.
She stood in the center of the world class equestrian facility, tugging on the acrylic sweater topping her favorite jeans, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Geez, lifestyles of the rich and famous, she thought, as her ride belched exhaust and bumped down the long tree-lined drive. Hard to believe she was going to be working here. Maybe she should have dressed better for her arrival, but it had been a long bus ride from Pennsylvania to Connecticut. Too late now. She took a deep breath and walked inside the double doors of the main barn where her new life would begin.
The highly varnished wood stalls gleamed and the elegant heads of the expensive inhabitants could be seen as they gazed at her with interest. The stalls were large and airy with bars across the front and a large window. There was a tack box in front of each stall in the barn colors of red and black, with wood trim and the owner's initials etched in the front panel, as well as a brass nameplate on the front of each stall door proclaiming the name of the inhabitant.
"May I help you?" said a cool voice behind her. A tall man was regarding her quizzically. Dressed in boots and breeches topped by a polo shirt, he had dark wavy hair curling below his ears and clear blue eyes in a narrow, tanned face. Those eyes were focused on her in a not altogether friendly way.
"Uh ... yes", she replied. "I'm Melissa Stanhope, the new assistant barn manager. I was looking for Sheila Reid," she added, naming her boss. Melissa stood straight, trying to assume a confidence she didn't feel.
"Good job, boy," he soothed the horse in the open stall door behind him and gave his neck an affectionate pat. Shifting her gaze, Melissa set eyes on the most beautiful horse she'd ever seen. He was easily seventeen hands of glossy coal black muscle with an elegant curved neck and soft eyes.
"He's gorgeous," Melissa breathed.
"Yes, he is," the man said, his curt tone at odds with the warmth in his voice when he addressed the horse.
"I'm David Weller, one of the trainers," he added. "Sheila's at the cottage. Do you know where it is?"
"No, I've just arrived," Melissa replied, offering a tentative smile.
"I'll show you," he said, with a slight note of impatience in his tone.
If he noticed her nervousness, he made no mention of it as he hefted her suitcase with ease and strode back out the door. Left with no choice, Melissa trailed after him, heart in her throat as she hurried to catch up. Not a warm welcome, she thought, as her escort led the way.
They crunched over the gravel path past a lighted outdoor riding ring and a second, equally impressive barn. Beside the barns, the courtyard was ringed by a large house with a porch running the width of it, a storage shed, a small, cozy looking house, and a neat white two-story building with a sign proclaiming it to be the office and clubhouse.
"Um ... a clubhouse?"
His glacial blue eyes pierced her. "Yeah, for the hunt club members."
"Right. Of course." Cheeks burning, she lapsed into silence. The closest the barn she'd worked at had to a clubhouse was the soda machine outside the tack room.
Since his stern, handsome countenance discouraged further attempts at conversation, she focused on her new home. The buildings were all in excellent condition, with flower borders lining the outside and landscape lighting lending a soft glow.
"Here we are." David stopped in front of the small house. She tried not to notice the breadth of his shoulders or the corded muscle in his lean arm as he knocked on the door. "You'll be staying with Sheila in the cottage here. The grooms have quarters above the barn."
"Thank you," Melissa said in surprise. This was the most informative he'd been so far. The house did look cheerful, with light spilling out of the paned windows and several pots of petunias on the stoop. It was painted the same white as the rest of the buildings save for the large barn, which was stained a golden walnut color if she could judge from the low lighting. In addition, the house had shutters in a bright blue shade that helped it stand out among the other buildings in the courtyard. The door, painted the same bright blue, opened and Melissa looked up into the first smile she'd seen since arriving. "Hi. Come on in. I'm Sheila Reid. You must be Melissa." The woman extended a tanned hand. "Welcome."
"Thanks," said Melissa, smiling back. They crossed the threshold into a small living room. Sheila was of medium height and lean, with salt and pepper hair falling to her waist and warm brown eyes.
"Make yourself at home while I finish up in the kitchen," said Sheila. She tossed the dishrag she was holding over her shoulder and moved off toward what Melissa assumed to be the doorway to the kitchen. "Oh, and thanks for helping Melissa find me, David. How's Devil?"
"He's fine. Just a scrape on his foreleg." He grinned warmly at Sheila and Melissa blinked at the transformation to, well, gorgeous was the only word that came to mind.
"That's good. The way you two were jumping around today was amazing. Congratulations."
"Yep. He'll show well this season."
As he turned to leave, Melissa said "Thank you for your help." She reached for the suitcase handle as he made to set the bag down. Their hands brushed lightly and Melissa let go of the handle and popped back up awkwardly.
"No problem," he said, finishing setting down her suitcase. "See you, Sheila."
"'Night, David."
"Make yourself at home. I'll be right back and we can get you settled." Feeling more at ease, Melissa did a slow circle of the room while she waited. The cottage had wide planked floors, with a braided rug in the center and a comfortable looking couch and rocking chair. There was a small fireplace with, of course, a hunting print above the mantle, white Priscilla curtains at the windows and blown glass knickknacks set around the room that suited the farm's coastal Connecticut location.
Woof. A large Golden Retriever padded through the kitchen doorway. She extended her hand and he stopped in front of her to gently sniff at her palm.
"Sorry, boy, I don't have anything for you right now, but we'll fix that. You're so beautiful, and such a good fellow, aren't you?" The dog made a soft sound, and after one last sniff, turned and curled up in front of the fireplace.
"It's small, but it's home."
Melissa started as Sheila walked in behind her carrying two mugs. "I brought you some tea. That's my Rufus", she continued, setting down the mugs, pulling a dog treat out of her pocket and giving it to him. "He's a sweet guy. I hope you don't mind sharing accommodations with my dog. I should have thought to ask you about that on the phone."
"Oh, no," Melissa said, picking up her tea and, following Sheila's lead, sat on the couch. "I love dogs. I had a collie that passed away three years ago, and I'd planned to get another dog, but I was ... busy." Melissa tapered off. "But I'm glad to be living with a dog in the house again."
"That's good," said Sheila. "Let me tell you a bit more about the schedule we went over on the phone, and then I'll show you your room. You must be beat." Rufus wandered over, lay across Melissa's feet with a sigh, and went back to sleep.
"Well," said Sheila, laughing. "He looks quite comfortable."
"Happy guy." Melissa drew comfort from rubbing her hand in the dog's soft fur. "Deer Creek is beautiful. To be perfectly honest, I've never been in a facility like this before."
"I know from your resume that you've been at much smaller barns," said Sheila easily, sipping at her tea and politely ignoring the red staining Melissa's cheeks.
"But horse care is the same regardless of the trappings and you've had plenty of experience with that. We have a set routine for the grooms for feeding, mucking stalls, grooming, and turnout, but there's quite a bit more that comes up every day beyond that. There's veterinary care for any of the horses sick or injured, organizing tacking up and cooling out for lessons and boarders, and then there's the horse shows."
Sheila rolled her eyes with a comical expression. "We do one large show a year with a Grand Prix, and three smaller shows. The Grand Prix is the most work, but they all can make things crazy around here. And there's getting our own horses ready for any away shows they do, that is, show at other barns. We'll be up around four the morning of any show getting them all braided and packed up, and sometimes one of us will be going along. That's for the local shows. Some of the away shows we do are elsewhere on the East Coast. For those, everyone who goes will stay at a hotel near the show for about a week, and we stable the horses on the show grounds.
"Mrs. Beckwith, Deer Creek's owner, is the head trainer. She has the show schedule made up through mid summer, and is working on the rest of the year's schedule now. She and her son Stephen usually show down in Florida for a few weeks each winter as well. Stephen rides the Grand Prix circuit so he's away a lot. Kate, Stephen, and David, who you've met, teach and take students to shows. David competes professionally as well. Sometimes, too, we'll wind up helping with grooming and lunging horses here, and I'm sure there's plenty of other assorted tasks I'm forgetting at the moment, but that's the gist of it."
Sheila paused and looked kindly, if somewhat assessing, over at Melissa. "Don't worry that you need to be a pro at all of this right now. Besides, I love to teach, and I'm grateful for an extra set of hands. As long as you're willing to work hard, you'll do fine."
"I'm looking forward to it."
"The hours can be long, so if you have specific requests for time off, let me know and we can usually work around it."
"I'm not anticipating needing any time off."
"Well, you'll probably want to visit your family around the holidays."
"I don't have any family," Melissa said, "so I'll be happy to cover on holidays."
Sheila paused, looking closely at her, and said "Alright. You must be exhausted, so why don't I show you your room and you can get some rest."
"Thanks. What do you want me to do in the morning?" Melissa asked, grabbing her suitcase and preparing to follow Sheila up the stairs.
"I usually start around 7:30. If I'm gone when you come down, help yourself to breakfast." Sheila said as she began climbing to the second floor. "There are two bedrooms up here and a shared bath. This one's yours." She pushed open the door to a small dormer bedroom with a twin bed, dresser, desk, and a small corner table with two straight-backed chairs. The somewhat utilitarian furniture was relieved by cheerful chintz curtains and another, smaller braided rug.
"Let me know if you need anything," added Sheila as Melissa stood in the doorway looking around.
"Thank you. I guess I'm more tired than I thought."
"Get some rest and I'll see you in the morning. Oh, and Melissa," Sheila added, turning as she got to the door, "Welcome to Deer Creek Farm."
"Thanks," Melissa responded. "It's nice to be here."
As Sheila went out, closing the door behind her, Melissa sat down with a thump on the bed. After the last two exhausting years caring for her mother through endless bouts of chemotherapy, nothing here could be that difficult. Melissa had a brief mental picture of David's unsmiling face and felt a flutter of unease. Well, she would just have to give him a wide berth.
She'd applied for the job on a whim after seeing it advertised in a horse magazine, but she never thought she'd be hired. Since graduating from high school, she'd worked full time in small local barns near the little house she shared with her mother. Her father had died when she was seventeen and she and her mother had relocated from Chicago to Pennsylvania. Her mother had been diagnosed with cancer the next year, so she hadn't had time to make friends and had lost contact with her friends from Chicago. Her parents had both been adopted only children, just as she was, so she had no family.
She'd always dreamed of a career in horses, and she had a chance to build a new life now. Encouraged by Sheila's warm welcome, Melissa stripped off her clothes, and without even bothering to unpack, fell onto the bed and into the sound sleep of the exhausted.
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