If Wishes Were Horses by Matlock Curtiss Ann

Author:Matlock, Curtiss Ann [Matlock, Curtiss Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2010-10-04T00:00:00+00:00

* * * *

On the outskirts of the city, Etta spied the familiar sign with the flying red horse. “Would you pull into that station? I need to use the restroom.”

Johnny turned into the gas station, saying, “Geez, Etta, you can sure startle me with those requests to turn. Would you start givin’ me a little warnin?”

“I’m sorry, but I just now saw it.”

He had called her Etta again.

She slipped from the truck before Johnny could come around and open the door for her, and hurried away to the ladies’ room. When she came out, she found Johnny sitting at one of the picnic tables at the edge of the parking lot. He had them each a hot dog and drink—an Orange Crush for her, root beer for himself.

“Oh, gosh, we never did have lunch, did we? Thank you—I’m starving!”

Johnny looked highly pleased.

She adored hot dogs with only mustard, and when she remarked on this, he said, “I remembered once that you said that.”

He had remembered that.

She gazed at him. It was nice to sit in the shade beneath the minuscule awning above the picnic table, nice to feel the cooling breeze and look across into Johnny’s bright silvery eyes.

As she bit into the warm hot dog, it struck her that no matter the blows one took, life—appetites and distractions and annoyances—went on. There was a certain comfort in this.

Stretching out beyond a barbed wire fence was a pasture in which several horses grazed. Gazing at the sight, Etta asked, “How many acres do you suppose I’d need just to operate a stable? Maybe raise and train good riding horses?”

She was a little shy about bringing up the subject, since she had initially thwarted the idea when Johnny had suggested it.

He didn’t seem bothered. “Depends,” he drawled. “If you kept grazing pasture, you’d save some money. If you weren’t using your grazing pasture, you could always rent it out. I’d say you could manage easily with twenty acres, but you’d probably want forty, so you could keep that alfalfa field.”

“I’d need enough property for people to ride on, if I rented boarding space.”

“That’d be nice, but what would bring renters is an arena for training.”

“I don’t think I’ll make enough money to go sinkin’ it into building an arena.”

“Well, not at first, but later,” Johnny said, warming to the subject.

He then went on describing the various setups of stock ranches he had seen and worked for, in the manner as only Johnny could, talking endlessly yet interestingly. Etta listened and ate her hot dog and watched Johnny’s eyes and voice grow intense with his subject. He had a way of really drawing out his words when he got intense; she liked to listen to his tone.

She ended up eating two hot dogs. She might have had another Orange Crush, but she didn’t want to keep having to stop to go to the bathroom. The public restrooms between Oklahoma City and Chickasha were not of the quality she preferred.

“How ‘bout a Fudgesicle?” Johnny asked with a tempting grin.

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