She didn't translate anything now. "It was good to see you, Clara," he said finally. "I mean that. Enjoy your time in town," she said. He put his hat back on, walked to the door, paused with his hand on the frame.
"That man," he said without turning yesterday standing with you. She waited. Is he Are you goodbye, Ethan? She said. He left.
Clara stood very still in the middle of her shop and breathed until the tightness in her chest released enough to function. Then she picked up the thread she'd put down and continued sorting it, her hands perfectly steady, her eyes burning in a way she refused to give into. She saw Ryder that afternoon by accident. She'd closed the shop at 4:00 and walked to the edge of town on the east road, which she sometimes did when she needed air that wasn't Main Street air. It had a different quality out there, less watched.
The Miller property was visible half a mile further. The fencing and the low outbuildings and the training ring where Miller's operation ran. Ryder was in the ring with a gray horse. She stopped at the fence without planning to. The horse was young.
She could see that even from this distance and jumpy in the way young horses are all nervous energy looking for a direction. Most men she'd seen work difficult horses matched their energy got louder and more forceful when the animal got more resistant. Ryder didn't. He stood still. When the horse shied away from him, he didn't follow.
He just stood there waiting like he had all the time there was. The horse circled the ring, came back. Ryder didn't move. The horse put its nose out. Then closer.
Then Ryder lifted one hand slowly and laid it against the horse's neck, and the animal stood there and let him. Clara was not sure how long she watched, long enough that the light shifted from afternoon to early evening gold. Long enough that Ryder eventually looked up and saw her at the fence, and she felt her face do something she didn't intend, some involuntary acknowledgement. He walked over. The horse followed him a few steps, then lost interest and wandered.
Evening, he said. I didn't mean to interrupt. You didn't. He rested his arms on the fence rail, looking out at the ring. Close up, the work was visible.