The Horse Whisperer

He didn't get the chance. It was still dark when the phone rang and woke him. He switched on the light before answering and saw it was only five-fifteen.

'Is that Tom Booker?' From the accent, he could tell immediately who it must be.

'I think so,' he said. 'It's kind of early to be sure.'

'I know, I'm sorry. I thought you'd probably be up early and didn't want to miss you. My name's Annie Graves. I called your brother yesterday, I don't know if he told you.'

'Sure. He told me. I was going to call you. He said he hadn't given you this number.'

'He didn't. I managed to get it from someone else. Anyway, the reason I'm calling is that I understand you help people who've got horse problems.'

'No ma'am, I don't.'

There was a silence at the other end. Tom could tell he had thrown her.

'Oh,' she said. 'I'm sorry, I—'

'It's kind of the other way around. I help horses who've got people problems.'

They hadn't gotten off to a great start and Tom regretted being a wiseguy. He asked her what the problem was and listened for a long time in silence as she told him what had happened to her daughter and the horse. It was shocking and made all the more so by the measured, almost dispassionate way she told it. He sensed there was emotion there, but that it was buried deep and firmly under control.

'That's terrible,' he said when Annie had finished. 'I'm real sorry.'

He could hear her take a deep breath.

'Yes, well. Will you come and see him?'

'What, to New York?'

'Yes.'

'Ma'am, I'm afraid—'

'Naturally I'll pay the fare.'

'What I was going to say was, I don't do that sort of thing. Even if it was somewhere nearer, that's not what I do. I give clinics. And I'm not even doing them for a while. This here's the last one I'm doing till the fall.'

'So you'd have time to come, if you wanted to.'

It wasn't a question. She was pretty pushy. Or maybe it was just the accent.

'When does your clinic finish?'

'On Wednesday. But—'

'Could you come on Thursday?'

It wasn't just the accent. She had picked up on a slight hesitation and was pushing hard at it. It was like what you did with a horse, pick the path of least resistance and work on it.

'I'm sorry ma'am,' he said firmly. 'And I'm real sorry about what happened. But I've got work to do back on the ranch and I can't help you.'

'Don't say that. Please, don't say that. Would you at least think about it.' Again it wasn't a question.

'Ma'am—'

I'd better go now. I'm sorry to have woken you.'

And without letting him speak or saying goodbye, she hung up.

When Tom walked into reception the following morning, the motel manager handed him a Federal Express package. It contained a photograph of a girl on a beautiful-looking Morgan horse and an open return airticket to New York.

Chapter Ten

Tom laid his arm along the back of the plastic-covered bench seat and watched his son cooking hamburgers behind the counter of the diner. The boy looked as if he'd been doing it all his life, the way he moved them around the grill and flipped them nonchalantly as he chatted and laughed with one of the waiters. It was, Hal had assured him, the hottest new lunch place in Greenwich Village.

The boy worked here for nothing three or four times a week in exchange for living rentfree in a loft apartment belonging to the owner, who was a friend of Rachel's. When he wasn't working here, Hal was at film school. Earlier he'd been telling Tom about a'short' he was shooting.

'It's about a man who eats his girlfriend's motorcycle piece by piece.'

'Sounds tough.'

'It is. It's kind of a road movie but all set in one place.' Tom was about ninety percent sure this was a joke. He really hoped so. Hal went on, 'When he's finished the motorcycle, he does the same with the girlfriend.'

Tom nodded, considering this. 'Boy meets girl, boy eats girl.'

Hal laughed. He had his mother's thick black hair and dark goodlooks, though his eyes were blue. Tom liked him very much. They didn't get to see each other too often, but they wrote and when they did meet, they were easy together. Hal had grown up a city kid but he came out to Montana now and again and when he did, he loved it. He even rode pretty good, considering.

It had been some years since Tom had seen the boy's mother, but they talked on the phone about Hal and how he was doing and that was never difficult either.

Rachel had married an art dealer called Leo and they'd had three other children who were now in their teens. Hal was twenty and seemed to have grown up happy. It was the chance of seeing him that had clinched the decision to fly east and look at the Englishwoman's horse. Tom was going up there this afternoon.

'Here you go. One cheeseburger with bacon.' Hal put it down in front of him and sat down opposite him with a grin. He was only having a coffee.

'You're not eating?' asked Tom.

I'll have something later. Try it.'

Tom took a bite and nodded his approval. 'It's good.'

'Some of the guys just leave them lying on the grill. You gotta work them, seal the juices.'

'Is it okay for you to take time out like this?' 'Oh sure. If it gets busy, I'll go help.' It wasn't yet noon and the place was still quiet. Tom normally didn't like to eat much at midday and he rarely ate meat nowadays, but Hal had been so keen to cook him a burger he'd pretended he was up for it. At the next table, four men in suits and a lot of wrist jewelry were talking loudly about a deal they'd done. Not the normal kind of clientele, Hal had discreetly informed him. But Tom had enjoyed watching them. He was always impressed by the energy of New York. He was just glad he didn't have to live here.

'How's your mother?' he asked.

'She's great. She's playing again. Leo's fixed for her to give a concert at a gallery just around the corner here on Sunday.'

That's good.'

'She was going to come along today and see you but last night there was this colossal row and the pianist walked out, so now it's all panic to find someone else. She said to give you her best.'

'Well you make sure to give her mine.'

They talked about Hal's course and his plans for the summer. He said he'd like to come out to Montana for a couple of weeks and it seemed to Tom that he meant it and wasn't just saying it to make him feel wanted. Tom told him how he was going to be working with the yearlings and some of the older colts he'd bred. Talking about it made him long to get started. His first summer for years with no clinics, no traveling, just being there by the mountains and seeing the country come to life again.

The diner was getting busy so Hal had to go back to work. He wouldn't let Tom pay and came out with him onto the sidewalk. Tom put his hat on and noticed the glance Hal gave it. He hoped it wasn't too embarrassing to be seen with a cowboy. It was always a little awkward when they said goodbye, with Tom thinking maybe he should give the boy a hug, but they'd kind of got into the habit of just shaking hands so today, as usual, that's all they did.

'Good luck with the horse,' Hal said.

'Thank you. And you with the movie.'

'Thanks. I'll send you a cassette.'

'I'd like that. Bye then Hal.'

'Bye.'

Tom decided to walk a few blocks before looking for a cab. It was cold and gray and the steam rose in drifting clouds from manholes in the street. There was a young guy, standing on a corner, begging. His hair was a matted tangle of rat's tails and his skin the color of bruised parchment. His fingers spilled through frayed woolen mitts and with no coat he was hopping from one foot to the other to keep warm. Tom gave him a five-dollar bill.