Chapter 17: Manor Farm

It was a short conversation that bright Saturday morning. I had already packed a bag with my reading and writing utensils to go sit on the bench under the trees deep in the backyard when Holly came bursting into my room.

"Jo's taking us to Manor Farm!" she screamed, and I jumped up from my bed in fright, having heard her before I saw her. My bag came tumbling out of my hands and everything in it with it as Jo appeared behind Holly, wearing a pair of beige jodhpurs, which I had seen people wear in movies when they rode horses.

"Huh?" I asked, still groggy from having woken up not long before.

"Put some pants on," Jo brusquely said to me. I realized it had been a little over two weeks since the last time I saw her in the house, which was when she had stopped at my door but didn't go in. "We're going horseback riding."

"And you need to wear pants," Holly added, fit in her own tiny pair of riding pants.

Horseback riding? What kind of a country girl would they think I was if I had told them I had never ridden a horse? I was a lower-class suburbia girl, is what I was. Nonetheless, they were both staring at me with a mirrored expression, their mouths open in excited breaths and their eyes wide. It looked like I was staring at the same person but in two different sizes.

"Well, close the door, and I will," I said with a growing smile, and I watched their faces light up in pure joy. Jo scampered away, and Holly, reaching up to the doorknob that was higher than her, clumsily closed the door while shrieking in excitement.

As a new dad, Marty had bought an old farm that had been abandoned by its aristocratic owner sometime before the Civil War. With his new and old money, he purchased the wide expanse of rolling hills, for quite a great cost given that it was some of the flattest and most lush land I had seen in California yet. It took us about an hour for Jo to drive us in her hot red Fury, but it felt even longer with Holly and Judd arguing in the back seat.

Marty had cultivated the land, built barns and stables, and hired workers until it became fully realized as Manor Farm, a horse ranch that breeds, raises, and sells horses. On the drive, Jo explained to me, in a half-audible way from all the wind in her convertible, that Marty often took the children to the ranch to teach them to ride horses, and that Jo has her very own special horse that has lived on the ranch for Jo's entire life.

My mouth gaped as we pulled down a dirt road and through a sign that read Manor Farm, and in the distance, I saw dozens of horses of all different colors and sizes grazing in the field. The midmorning sun shone on their backs and glistened on their stiff fur, and some of them turned their heads as they heard us coming up the driveway.

A tanned man came out from a little house as we parked in front of it. "Richard," Jo told me as she turned the engine off. "He keeps up the place." She jumped out of the car without opening the door, reaching into the backseat to easily pull Holly out as Judd jumped out in the same manner Jo did. I wasn't keen to embarrass or hurt myself, so I opened the door and carefully stepped out.

"Jo!" the old man greeted, the brim of his wide hat flopping over his eyes. "Willow was starting to miss you."

"Hey, Richard. Where is she?"

"Oh, she's out by the trees, as per usual. She's been a little tired lately, the old woman."

By the way he was talking, I thought perhaps Willow was another ranch worker whom Jo had a friendship with.

"Oh, the youngins are here, too!" Richard said as Holly ran to him and hugged him around his middle. "Well, let's go get your helmets and your horses." Holly and Judd went with Richard into the farmhouse as Jo turned to me with a lightness in her eyes.

"There's a clove of trees right past there, over the hill." She pointed past me, and I turned, looking at the large hill where about a dozen horses were calmly grazing. "I'll race ya," she whispered. As I turned back to her, she suddenly rushed past me, bumping into my shoulder as she started racing towards the hill.

Catching my balance, I stared after her. "What?! Jo!" I started jogging a little bit, but she kept on sprinting, and something in me pulled after her. I was aggravated at first, having to run in my tight green pants and sandals, but there was an adrenaline that pumped through me as I caught momentum. I stared after her rush of wild, fiery blonde hair as she struggled to run up the steep hill.

I struggled harder, already out of breath, but I was gaining on her. She lowered down to use her hands to crawl faster up the hill, turning her head and looking surprised to see that I was right behind her. She let out a shriek and a raspy laugh as she started to climb faster, the horses at the top of the hill stirring in fright.

"Jo!" I shrieked, my own laughter boiling inside my chest. We struggled up the hill, my hands inches away from the heels of her knee-high riding boots which tore through the damp grass, until finally she tumbled over the top of the hill, and I tumbled right after her.

I didn't realize how hard I was laughing. My heart was beating painfully hard in my chest, my lungs aching as I wheezed for air. My own ribcage throbbed from my unconscious giggles, and as I looked up, I froze.

I also hadn't realized how close I was to the horses now. They were all standing right in front of me, a few of them eyeing me wearily. They were much bigger now than how small they looked from down the hill. Slowly, I stood, not wanting to scare them. A few of them huffed and kicked their front legs, and I gasped, stepping backwards. I felt my foot slip on the edge of the hill, but Jo's hand caught my elbow and pulled me away from it.

"They won't hurt you," she said calmly, her breath ragged from running.

"I think we scared them," I whispered, face blushing from the exertion and from her hand grasping my arm.

"No, they're used to it by now. Come here, Willow's over there." She pointed past the horses and to a dense cluster of trees where one was grazing alone.

Jo's hand slid down my arm and clasped my hand, her fingers entwining with my own. We set out in a light jog towards the trees, and I tried to ignore the way her hand was squeezing mine, the way the ends of her long hair grazed my cheek as she ran slightly in front of me.

We slowed as we made it to the trees, and her hand left mine cold. Awe fluttered in my chest as Jo started to walk towards the horse. This one was taller than the others, the tallest horse I'd ever seen, though I hadn't seen very many. She was completely black, her fur and her mane so black that it made her dark eyes appear lighter than herself. There were flecks of gray in her mane and on her face, and I noticed the way she kept her weight off one of her back legs a little bit. She was mindlessly grazing the bits of grass on the ground when Jo approached her.

"Hey, Willow girl," Jo cooed, and the horse's face perked up, her eye boring into Jo's figure. I felt like it looked at me for a moment before it looked at Jo again, and it lowered its head in a final decision of happiness, trotting to Jo and butting its head gently against her shoulder.

"Hey, there," Jo cooed, pressing her face against the bridge of the horse's nose as her hand reached up and brushed all over its neck. "How you been, Willy girl?"

"This is Willow?" I asked, feeling dumb that I thought they had been talking about a real human woman.

"Of course," Jo said. "I've had Willow since I was a baby. She was one of the first horses here." Jo walked along the horse's side, her hand reaching up and patting its back. "She's my best girl, she is." She slapped the horse's hide, and it huffed, kicking its back legs.

"She's... she's beautiful," I gaped, taking a nervous step closer. I had never been privy to the majesty of horses before, but this one seemed like the most majestical creature I had ever seen.

"Give her a pat," Jo said, coming back to Willow's head and running her fingers through her mane.

"Where?" I stuttered, stepping closer but keeping next to Jo.

Jo chuckled before reaching down and grabbing my hand, bringing it towards the horse's face. I jerked back, but she kept hold of my wrist, turning to look at me. Her eyes looked so green in this light, reflecting the grass and the trees. "It's okay," she said. "Just pet her here on the nose."

I hesitated for a moment before I let Jo pull my hand towards Willow's nose, and I felt the scratchy fur there. The horse lowered its head and pushed it towards my hand as if it, too, was urging me to be brave, and it elicited a giggle within me.

"See?" Jo chuckled, pulling away to let me pet Willow on my own.

"Wow," I awed, keeping my fingers in the same place on her nose because I knew it was a safe spot. The horse took a sudden step forward, and I gasped a little, but Willow butted her head against the side of mine, the cold of her nose tickling my ear. I giggled and accepted it, now petting the side of her face and her neck.

"She loves you," Jo said a little quietly from where she stood at Willow's side. I looked at her and saw the soft smile on her face, the thoughtful look in her eye. She was mindlessly petting Willow's back now, focused on the way the horse kept butting its head against me for more touch.

"I think so," I said breathlessly, craning my head to look up at the horse.

Jo stared at me for a few moments longer before she finally snapped out of it, patting Willow's hide again. "Let's take her for a ride. She could use the exercise."

"I've never—"

"I could tell," Jo cut me off. "Come here, I'll lift you up."

"Jo, I don't—"

"Willow's easy. She doesn't even need reins. She knows me well enough."

I noticed that there were no reins on the horse's head. Jo was staring at me expectantly, and I knew well enough by now that I had no room to say no, so I came forward and let her take my hand.

"I'm gonna lift you up on her back. Just jump and hold onto her."

"Won't it hurt her?" I asked as Jo turned me around, placing her hands on my waist. Jo was tall and fit, but I doubted she could lift me up onto this tall horse, and I feared accidentally kicking it in the side.

"No," Jo said with laughter as if it were a stupid question, and I blushed. "On the count of three. Ready? One, two, three..."

Jo's hands on my waist tightened as she crouched behind me and lifted me up with a grunt, and I helped by jumping as hard as I could, grabbing onto Willow's back and leaping as far onto it as I could. The horse moved a little bit but stayed mostly steady as I hung halfway on its back. Jo quickly grabbed my ankles and pushed me up farther onto the horse until finally I swiveled and threw one leg over its back so that I was sitting. Bent at the upper half so that my front was pressed to the horse and my arms grabbing around its middle, I slowly lifted myself up. The air that filled me from the height which I sat on this tall horse was a little inebriating. I couldn't help but clumsily laugh, feeling the horse's ribs move under my hands as it gave a little huff of praise for me.

"That was okay for your first time," Jo chuckled, and I realized that her hand was still on my outer thigh from when she was hoisting me onto the horse, and I wondered if she kept it there to make sure I was steady. I then wondered if she thought she was holding onto the horse instead of me, because she roughly patted my thigh before hoisting her own self up onto the horse, nearly kicking me in the face in the process. She sat in front of me, and I realized it was a little close because my hips were against her lower back. Feeling flustered, I tried to scoot back, but Jo made a noise and suddenly the horse started to trot. The jolt of suddenly moving forward while I was scooting back made me nearly fall backwards off the horse, but with a shriek I leaped forward and grabbed around Jo's waist until there was absolutely no room left between us.

All Jo had to do was say a few different words or tug at Willow's mane a certain way to direct her, and all I had to do was grab onto Jo's waist and giggle as Willow picked up speed. Jo seemed gentle with Willow, not letting her go too fast or turn too sharply, and I knew it was because Willow was an older horse.

Soon, we saw Judd on a smaller brown horse with Holly at his back, both of them wearing black helmets as Judd tugged expertly on the reins to guide the horse over to us.

"Wanna race?" he called out to Jo as the horses bumped each other on the nose.

"Willow's not a racing horse anymore, Judd," Jo said, gently patting the top of the horse's head.

"Lucky's gonna be the best racing horse," Judd said as he patted the young brown horse in the same way Jo did. "He'll be as fast as Seabiscuit!"

"Hi, Miss Becca—" Holly said to me before Judd slapped the reins and the horse took off, Holly shrieking as she grabbed onto Judd, the horse sweeping them away from us. I turned and watched as Judd led the horse down the hill, jumping over a stray branch and circling back into a calmer trot.

"He's good," I commented.

"Willow was better. She's just old and deserves to rest now. I need to come out here more often and see her." I turned back around, my nose touching Jo's hair. "I used to come out nearly every day."

I thought about Jo's habitual disappearances, how before today I hadn't seen her in weeks. "What makes you leave?" I blurted, and nearly regretted it, remembering that Jo isn't always as even-tempered as she was acting then.

Maybe being around Willow calmed her. Maybe it was because her back was turned to me, and she didn't have to look me in the eyes as she spoke. Maybe it was the gentle trot of Willow's hooves against the hard spots of ground, the calming sway of the horse's hips that reminded me of ocean waves. Maybe it was my arms clutching all the way around her waist, keeping her to me like a tree.

"My mom," she answered simply. "I mean, that's not all. I like to party and be free, and I do get caught up in partying for longer periods than I should. But mostly it's my mom—the reason I'm never home."

I remembered that night when I had heard Katie yelling at Jo, calling her a degenerate, a hippie, an idiot. I halfway knew why Jo hated her mom, but I wanted her to tell me. "Why?"

"She disapproves of me—always has. She wanted a perfect daughter who likes dresses and lipstick and boys—" She paused, clearing her throat. "I just don't believe in marriage, that's all. Or in men."

For the first time in a while, Georgia slipped into the back of my mind, and then Greg. But Jo kept talking.

"I can't stand to be around her. She looks at me like I'm the scum on her foot. Like I'm the devil." She laughed airily. "I think she would rather me be dead than not get married. I'm gonna die young, anyways."

I looked at the side of her face and saw the seriousness set in her brow. "Why do you say that?"

Her shoulder grazed my chin as she shrugged. "Always had a feeling. That's why I try to live while I can."

"Dying young is no fun," I murmured, holding onto her a little tighter when Willow hopped over a branch.

"How would you know?"

Greg's voice filled my mind. The image of him and Roger holding hands in the park that night. The sound of his mother crying.

I shrugged in the same way she did, knowing that she felt my shoulder graze her back.

"Why don't you just move? To get away from your mother."

Jo sighed, turning her face forwards so I couldn't see the side of it. "I love my dad, and Holly and Judd, even if they are anklebiters. And I have nothing going for me if I move. My mom will cut me off. I won't have money. It's better to halfway live there and have my allowance than to live on the streets with nothing at all."

"Couldn't you get a job somewhere?"

She laughed. "I'm no good for working. It may come as a shock, but I do know myself. I wouldn't show up. I'd get fired. I'm dumb as a brick, even with all the classes my dad put me in. I didn't even finish high school—but they don't know that."

"They don't know you didn't finish high school?"

She shook her head. "It was after I had already walked in graduation that the school told me I had been absent too many days—and I also failed."

I tried to imagine teenager Jo, skipping school to go hang with her friends, lying to her parents that she had gotten her high school diploma. It wasn't too hard to imagine.

"I'm just a lost cause, that's all." She said it so simply, like she was reading a fact out of an encyclopedia.

I couldn't understand how she thought that. As unreliable as she was, as brisk and rude, as harsh and temperamental, Jo didn't seem like a lost cause to me. She seemed like the gilded child of all human purpose in one woman. She seemed like the most colorful sunsets, and the sweetest spring breezes. She seemed like bitter winter nights and orange autumn mornings. She was laughter and tears in one person. She was the moon and the sun, and I was just another star in her sky, twinkling in her direction.