92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [111]
“You’re used to this,” Olivia said as she raised her leg and set her foot in the stirrup. She grabbed the pommel of the Western-style saddle, hanging on with both hands.
“Not at first, I wasn’t. We all have to begin somewhere,” Grace said, boosting her up.
“I don’t understand why you’re so insistent on this.” It took Olivia three tries to heave herself into the saddle, even with Grace’s help, but she managed. Olivia was breathless by the time she was firmly settled on the docile mare. “I hope you’re happy.”
“Ecstatic,” Grace joked. “As to why I won’t let you out of this, the truth is, I want you to feel alive again.” After the chemotherapy and radiation treatments, Olivia had been spending her days holed up inside the house, with only rare treks into town. She ventured out to Justine’s new restaurant once a week or so, and occasionally visited her brother’s gallery, but that was about it. Even Charlotte had grown concerned.
Grace slid into the saddle with a bit more finesse, but then, as Olivia had said, she’d had more practice.
Now that she was on Sugarplum, Olivia glanced anxiously around. “Are we there yet?” she muttered in a weak attempt at a joke.
“We haven’t started,” Grace replied.
“I was afraid of that.”
Olivia looked down, which was a mistake Grace had made early on herself.
“Just how high off the ground am I?” Olivia asked, her brow creased. “If Jack finds out about this…”
“He knows.”
“Jack knows and he agreed I should do this?”
“Yes. Now let me show you the basics.” She reviewed the lessons Cliff had given her in the beginning. When she’d finished speaking and demonstrating how to use the reins, Grace took the lead.
With a few grumbling words, Olivia followed. To Grace’s surprise, once they were under way, her friend didn’t seem to have the problems Grace had experienced as a beginner. For one thing, Sugarplum used to stop and graze whenever she felt like it, completely ignoring Grace’s commands. She wasn’t doing that now.
“Hey, you’re a natural,” she exclaimed, turning to look at Olivia.
Olivia didn’t respond, concentrating on every move.
“You ready to go down the trail?”
“Sure.” Olivia grinned sheepishly. “I guess Sugarplum isn’t so evil, after all.”
“Told you,” Grace teased as she led the way at a slow, steady pace. She started toward the evergreen-lined path. Towering pines stretched up into the blue sky.
After a few hundred yards, Grace twisted around to look behind her again. “How’re you doing, Calamity Jane?”
“So far, so good. Doesn’t the sun feel nice? Especially on your head.” Olivia wore a bandanna, tied gypsystyle at the nape.
“It feels great.”
“Oh, look!” Olivia called a moment later, her voice animated. “There’s an eagle. No, two of them!”
Shading her eyes, Grace peered up at the sky. The eagles were soaring high above them. Fascinated, she watched as they engaged in an elaborate mating ritual. One of the birds fell several hundred feet, and the second eagle swooped after it.
Eagles often landed on the beach off Lighthouse Road, so she knew Olivia saw them frequently. But this was different. More intimate somehow.
“I don’t think I realized how fresh and green it smells in the woods,” Olivia said after a short silence. “In fact, I didn’t realize green was actually a smell.”
“It reminds you of Christmas, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
They continued to clop along, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of the forest. Soon they entered a clearing and the beach lay before them, scattered with driftwood. They could see Blake Island in the distance like an emerald set on an expanse of glittering blue.
“It’s so peaceful,” Olivia said quietly.
That had struck Grace on her first ride with Cliff. She remembered sitting with her husband on the pebbled beach, their backs against a piece of driftwood. She’d closed her eyes, and the sun had warmed her face as the sounds of nature hummed all around her. Grace had heard the gentle lapping of the water against the shore, birds