Sunlight peaked over the horizon, slowly creeping across the grassy lawn. Brightness grew behind your eyelids, the light filtering though the gauzy curtains at your bedroom window. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you stretched while throwing off the covers that offered to reclaim you. With a knock and a turn of the knob, you entered Caleb's room to see him already awake and sketching in his notebook, bringing a smile to your face. He always was an early riser, but content to stay in his room until you awoke.

Soon you had breakfast on the table and were calling Caleb's name while simultaneously packing your son's lunch. He breezed into the kitchen with his backpack half unzipped, threatening to spill its contents.

"Morning, sweetie. Got all your homework?" you asked, brushing an unruly lock of blond hair off his forehead.

"Yes, mom, but we have a field trip today to the museum!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"That's right! I have your permission slip..." you searched through a stack of papers on your desk just off the kitchen and plucked the correct form out. Closing his lunchbox, you added it and the permission slip to his backpack before zipping it closed.

"Make sure you ask the teacher so you can sit near the front of the bus, okay? Don't want you getting motion sickness." The museum was about an hour away, meaning a long bus ride for the students.

A heavy sigh escaped his small body, "I know, mom."

Breakfast eaten, hair and teeth brushed, and backpack in hand, you hustled your son out the door and into the car to meet the bus. Most mornings, you would walk with him to the bus stop half a mile down the road, but you drove when running late. After dropping your son off, you turned down the lane back toward the house and saw a male figure outside the stables. James. He was early.

Parking the car, you headed his way. As you neared, you observed him measure and mark a long 2"x4" piece of wood you assumed to fix the one he broke yesterday. He had apparently found the shed and pulled out the saw horses, wood, and tools all on his own. Ambitious.

"Good morning, James," you called out, getting his attention.

He turned your way, peaking out from underneath his baseball cap. "Morning, ma'am."

"I told you, it's Y/N, none of this 'ma'am' stuff."

He flushed slightly, "Sorry. Y/N."

You gave a smile. "Glad you found the shed. How long have you been here? You don't have to be in until 8."

"I know," he looked down, adjusting the gloves on his hands, "but I was already awake. Figured I'd get an early start. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," you shrugged. "Um...I'm gonna go get ready for the day and I can show you around a little more. Sound good?"

"Sure," he answered, close-lipped smile on his face.

Turning your back to him, you headed for the house, then looking down at what you were currently wearing: yoga pants, a ratty t-shirt, and a zip-up hooded sweatshirt with your hair pulled back. Basically what you wore to bed the night before. Such a great example of professionalism, you laughed at yourself.

Once inside, you heard noise in the kitchen.

"Morning, mom," you greeted her upon entering.

"Morning, dear," you mother shuffled over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Caleb off to school?"

"Field trip, actually. He's excited about the museum," you replied.

She clicked her tongue in affection, "Such a sweet boy. I'll thank the Lord every day that he doesn't seem to have an ounce of Kevin's cruelty in him. "

"You and me both, mom," you sighed, helping her lower into a chair. Your mother had ridden horses all her life, but took a bad fall after being bucked off about 15 years ago. As she aged, her back yielded less and less to movement causing pain and immobility. It saddened her to see you carrying so much responsibility because she was unable to help. Although you wouldn't admit it quite yet, somehow she knew that having help in James had been a godsend.

The silence in the kitchen was then broken by the staccato striking of a hammer. Peering out the window, you could see that James had removed the damaged stall gate and was nearly finished removing the broken board and replacing it.

"Is that James out there?" you mother inquired. "He's quite the go-getter."

"Seems to be," you replied, distracted as you kept your gaze on the man.

A throat cleared behind you, breaking the spell. You turned around a knowing look and a smirk from your mother as she tried to meet your eyes.

"Well, uh," you avoided the eye contact, unwilling to admit to staring. "I'm gonna hop in the shower. Do you need anything right now, mom?"

"I'm just fine, dear." She sipped her tea with a smile as you retreated from the kitchen and your mother's accusing gaze.

_____________

Dressed in jeans, boots, t-shirt, and a jacket, you brushed your hair back from your face and headed out the door toward the stables once again. Stepping inside, James had his back to you as he finished reattaching the stall gate. He swung the gate back and for a few times before latching it, confident in his repairs. He turned your way, his eyes finding yours. You weren't sure you would ever get used having to those piercing blue eyes fixed on you.

"You did a great job on the gate. Thank you," you complimented him sincerely.

He remained reserved as he spoke, "You're welcome. I'm sorry it needed fixing."

A wide smile crossed your face, "Already forgotten. Ready for the full tour?"

"Yeah. Just let me put away these tools..."

You helped him carry the spare wood and tools back to the shed before dusting your hands off on your jeans.

"So," you began. "I thought I'd introduce you to the horses first."

He nodded at that as you lead him toward the first stall.

"This is Thunder, my baby. I've had him since he was just a colt," Thunder walked toward you, nuzzling the side of your face. You stroked the white spot between his eyes, the rest of his coat a light, copper color. A few affectionate pats to the animals neck and you moved on to the next stall.

You spoke about each of the horses individually, sharing their personalities and quirks like they were members of the family because you saw them as such. Most of the horses were owned by neighbors and friends but you also offered outside short-term and long-term boarding as well as training. At the moment, only 2 of the 9 horses present were brought in during the past 2 weeks and required a lot of attention. Coming to the last stall, you hesitated, gazing at the wild eyes of the chestnut-colored animal before you.

"This is Jasper. He came to us last week for re-training from an out-of-state owner."

You had observed James as the quiet, strong type so far. He had silently followed you from horse to horse, observing and listening as you shared about each animal. Which is why you were surprised when he spoke up then.

"Why is he chained to the walls?" he asked, leaning forward.

"He's a special case. The owner says Jasper was a great horse, very calm and gentle until about a month ago when something spooked him. They couldn't pinpoint what happened and usually a horse will calm down over time, but he still hasn't. He shies away from human contact and jumps at loud noises. Even bucks on occasion, which is why we have him roped to both sides of the stall so no one gets too close or is hurt while feeding him."

James seemed transfixed on the animal, both hands resting on the gate before him.

"Can you help him?" he questioned, meeting your eyes.

"I hope so. The owners want him broken again, but given his age and whatever trauma he suffered, it's really up to him. I don't like to use the term 'broken', anyway. I don't use whips or spurs to cause them pain. Training horses is about mutual understanding and earning their respect. These horses trust me and in return they follow my commands. I hope to do the same with Jasper. His owners have only given me a few months, though...." you trailed off, heart aching for the frightened animal.

James pulled away from the gate, stuffing hands in his pockets as he ducked his head.

"Anyway, I'll show you the horses' feeding and training schedules. It's about time for their breakfast."

He nodded, following your lead as you walked to the far side of the stables while talking non-stop with the silent man beside you.

________________________

That night, Caleb was abuzz with new information he had learned from the American Military Museum. On the bus ride home he had sketched some of his favorite battle scenes as depicted in dioramas and the various uniforms of the military. He showed you his drawings at the dinner table, meanwhile you urged him to clear the table as one of his chores. Flipping through his book, you were stunned at how talented he was at such a young age. Although his art wasn't photographically accurate, he still had his own style that you hoped he would get a chance to develop as he grew older. Unless his father had any say about it. Caleb's curiosity and enthusiasm for World War II in particular sparked a memory.

"Hey kiddo, I think we might have some of your great grandfather's photos from the war up in the attic, would you like to see them?" you teased, know that he would.

He gasped, "Really?!? Can we look at them right now?" The boy was bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

"Not tonight, sweetie, it's getting late. But I promise I will find them, okay?" you assured him.

Disappointed but understanding, he sighed, "Okay, mom."

You ruffled his hair as he dried the last of the dinner dishes before heading off to brush his teeth.

"You got lucky with that boy," your mom declared. "You were a little hellion growing up."

A laugh burst through your lips, "Mom! I wasn't that bad..."

"Say what you will, but my memory is still perfect."

Shaking your head with a smile, you helped her rise from the dinner table before she shuffled off to bed. You wiped off the kitchen counter, then settled down at your desk to look over bills and other paperwork you had yet to get to for the week.

____________________

Having James around made your life a lot easier than you expected, not having to deal with some of the menial tasks that had taken up much of your time. The only hiccup in the routine of that week was Wednesday night when Kevin came to pick up Caleb for his first Karate class. Your son had really been looking forward to it, watching out the window for the police car to roll up. When it did, he bolted out the door and was gone with barely a wave to you, your stomach in knots as you watched him go. Even if you knew that karate was not about violence but self-discipline and self-defense instead, you knew Kevin would somehow make it competitive. It was just his nature. Your gaze flitted out toward the road all night as you ate a quiet dinner and then returned to the stables to give each horse a blanket to brave the chilly night. James helped you draped the fabric over each animals' muscular back.

Approaching Jasper, you were unsure what to do. Putting the blanket on him would mean you would be behind his line of sight, which always spooked him. You didn't want him to freeze all night, though.

"Can I help?" James offered, entering the stall cautiously behind you.

He approached the animal, keeping both hands in Jasper's view.

"Be careful! I'm not sure..." you watched in awe as James moved forward slowly, eventually able to place a hand on Jasper's nose without him flinching. Once contact was made, the man stroked the horse's neck while remaining directly in front of him.

"Go ahead," James urged you.

Uncertain, you came to Jasper's side and slid the blanket over his back. His skin shuddered, but otherwise he seemed okay. Backing out of the stall slowly, James followed you.

You turned his way, still in shock, "How did you do that?"

Offering a casual shrug, he spoke, "Mutual understanding."

You were then interrupted by the sound of an approaching car, heart leaping in your throat. Exiting the stables, you saw Caleb climb out of the patrol car with a handkerchief held to his mouth. Dread filled you.

"Baby, what happened?" you questioned the boy, pulling the cloth aside to see a split in his lip.

"I'm okay, mom. It was an accident. Dad says I have to be quick on my feet! He's gonna help me practice this weekend!" he declared with enthusiasm.

Inspecting his face again, you kissed the top of his sweaty head. "Okay. Go ahead and wash up. I'll be right in."

Watching his retreating figure you whirled on your ex. "What the hell, Kevin? I knew something like this would happen!"

"Relax, it's a split lip. Some kid's fist got a little wild. Soon our boy will be able to deflect something like that. It's part of the learning process," Kevin drawled with a condescending tone.

"Oh, right. Like you know anything about karate," you scoffed. "All your fighting skills come from scrapping with your brothers and you know there were no rules involved there."

He shrugged, "Maybe so, but at least I didn't stand there while some kid hit me in slow motion. He didn't even have the sense to hit him back!"

"Caleb doesn't have the violent tendencies you do, thank heavens."

"Yeah, we'll see. I'll see him next week for karate."

"What?" you asked in outrage. "You just said you could practice with him this weekend!"

"I forgot I had a previous engagement," Kevin said unapologetically. "He'll understand."

Hands shaking in anger, you crossed your arms to hide it. "Fine. Next week."

Watching his tail lights retreat, you took a few deep breaths. As the anger faded, you were just tired. Tired of being the one to cover for him as he disappointed his son. You heard the stable doors sliding shut, breaking you from your reverie. James closed the padlock around the chain and handed the keys to you.

"Thank you," you responded, throat still a little thick with emotion.

"He'll be okay," James assured you. "Caleb. You're doing right by him, I don't doubt that."

"I appreciate that. Have a good night, James," you said with a sniffle.

A generous smile touched his lips, this time even reaching his stunning blue eyes.

"Good night, Y/N," he echoed before walking away.