The Law of Moses(86)

Again, I felt the horses behind me. I felt them shift and then I felt a soft nudge at my back, and then again, stronger.

“Calico wants you to move closer,” Moses breathed. I stepped closer. Calico nudged once more, until my body was separated from Moses by only a few inches. Calico brought her head past my shoulder and huffed softly, her breath lifting the loose hair around my face. Moses’s eyes were wide, but his breath was steady and his hands stayed still and loose around my own. Then Calico moved around us and brought her body up flush against Moses’s back. And she stood with her head down, her eyes half-closed and her body still. Moses could feel her there, but he couldn’t see her. I felt the tremor in his hands and watched him swallow as his eyes moved past mine to where Sackett hovered nearby. And then Sackett was at my back, the side of his body pressing into me, supporting me, as if he and Calico had aligned themselves head to tail to keep the flies at bay. But Moses and I stood in between, sheltered by their massive bodies in the quiet shadows of the rapidly falling dusk.

“Can I ask you something?” I whispered, my heart pounding so hard I wondered if he could feel the vibrations in my hands.

“Sure.” His voice was as soft as mine.

“Did you ever love me?” Maybe it was unfair to ask, with two 1200 pound truth detectors pinning us between them, but I couldn’t hold the words back any more. “I loved you. I know deep down you don’t really believe I did. You don’t believe I could. But I loved you.”

“Georgia.” My name was almost a groan on his lips and I felt the tears spill over my eyes and hurry down my cheeks, eager to be free of the pressure that was building in my head. And then his arms were around me, drawing me up into him as if drawing strength from the Paint at his back.

“Why didn’t you stay away from me?” he choked. “I told you so many times to go away. But you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t let me be. And I hurt you. I created this situation. I did. Do you know that I have lost every person I love? Everyone. And just when I started to hope, to think maybe things could be different with you, Gi died. And she proved me right. And I wasn’t going to let you get anywhere near me. I was in a mental hospital, Georgia! A mental hospital. For three months. And I wasn’t going to let that touch you. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to save you. I didn’t come back because I was trying to save you . . . from me! Don’t you get that?”

I shook my head fiercely, hiding my face in his chest, letting the soft cotton of his T-shirt mop up my tears. I hadn’t understood that. I had thought he was rejecting me, pushing me away like he always did. I hadn’t understood. But now I did. And the knowledge swept up all my broken pieces and sealed them once again. There was healing in his words, and I wrapped my arms around him too, holding him as he held me, abandoning resistance. His body was hard against mine, firm, solid, welcome, and I let myself lean into him in a way I never had, comforted and confident that he wouldn’t let me fall. The horses shifted, and I felt Sackett shudder as if he acknowledged my relief. Calico whinnied softly and brushed her soft nose across Moses’s shoulder, and I realized then that I was not the only one trembling.

“Thou shall paint. Thou shall leave and never look back. Thou shall not love.” Moses spoke against my hair. “Those were my laws. As soon as I was free, out of school, out of the system, I was gone. I wanted nothing more than to paint and run. Paint and run. Because those were the only two things that made life bearable. And then came you. You and Gi. And I started thinking about breaking a law or two.” My heart was thundering against my chest as he forced the words out, and I pressed my lips together so the sob building in my throat would not break free at the wrong second and muffle the words I desperately wanted to hear.

“In the end, Georgia, I only broke one. I loved,” he said simply, clearly, unequivocally.

He loved.

And just like that, Calico shifted and drifted away, lumbering toward the last rays of sunshine spilling through the far door that led out to the corral. Sackett followed behind her, moving slowly, his long nose snuffling along the ground as he moseyed, leaving me and Moses alone, wrapped in each other’s arms as if their work here was done.

“Who are you, Moses? You aren’t the same. I never thought there was any way I could love you again.” There were tears streaming down my face, but I didn’t wipe them away. “You didn’t know how to love. I don’t know what to do with this Moses.”

“I knew how to love. I loved you then. I just didn’t know how to show you.”

“So what happened?” I asked.

“Eli. Eli happened. And he is showing me how,” he answered softly.

He didn’t raise his head from my hair, and I was grateful. I needed a moment to find my response. I knew if I looked at him with pity or fear, or even disbelief, what we were building would crumble. And I knew then, if I was going to love him, really love him, not just want him or need him, I was going to have to come to terms with who he was.

So I pressed my lips against Moses’s neck and I whispered. “Thank you, Eli.”

I heard Moses’s swift intake of breath and he held me tighter.

“I loved you then, Georgia. And I love you still.”

I felt the words as they rumbled through his throat, and then I brought his mouth to mine so that I could savor their aftertaste. Nothing had ever tasted so sweet. He lifted me in his arms and I wrapped myself around him—arms, legs, old Georgia and new Georgia. And with one arm anchoring my hips and one arm banded across my back, Moses kissed me like he had all the time in the world and no place in heaven or hell he’d rather be. When he finally lifted his head and moved his lips from my mouth to my neck I heard him whisper,