Chapter Three: Avery Creek

As I looked at her I felt myself losing my nerve. She had a hungry look around her eyes, and her stance told me that she was uneasy. I had offered my hand and she took it slowly, contemplatively, with a weary look. “Erin Norris…” I felt stupid suddenly, and wanted to flee. I didn’t want to have tell this woman what I wanted of her.1

The idea of having a man around, even as a hired hand was unnerving to me. The scent of a man, the muscles of his back and the sound of his voice were more than I could handle. I would begin to feel myself shutting down and it had been that way since James had died. He had wanted to go to the mountains to die. 2

I heard myself saying “I’m looking for someone to work as a hand on my farm outside of Avery Creek…” and glancing around at the empty stable “it doesn’t look as though you’ll have much luck at finding work here in the winter.” 3

Her eyes were much harder than what I had imagined them to be. When the man in Avery Creek had told me about Erin he had produced a newspaper clipping dating a few years back that showed a picture of a young woman, holding the reins to an Arabian of fine color and breeding. The color in her face was different then, I could tell even by looking at the black and white picture. She had the look of a woman who had pride, and security in what she did. The man had told me that at one time, Erin had been the prominent female horse breeder in the Blue Ridge but had sold everything after some kind of an attack.4

The woman I was looking at then had the manner of someone who drank too much whiskey and drove too fast. Someone who had survived something horrible. The flesh of her face seemed stretched too thin, probably from not eating right. She seemed to be all sharp angles and hard, lean muscle. Mean…and probably a little dangerous if she was cornered.5

I realized that she was laughing at me, her eyes lit in amusement. “You came all the way out here, looking for me? To ask if I’d work your farm or whatever in the hell it is that you have out there?” She gestured with her hand as if to show me that she had no idea where I had come from or where I had been. She stepped back, and started fishing in her pocket, produced a pack of cigarettes and lit one. She offered the pack to me and I declined as politely as possible, considering I seemed to be the subject of some humor. 6

She pulled hard on the cigarette and studied my face for a minute, trying to decide if I was joking. She was squinting at me through the smoke and I realized somehow, god only knows why, that she used to be a beautiful woman.7

I decided that I wasn’t going to be treated that way by someone who worked in a stable. Someone who had no idea what I had been through in the last eight months. “That’s exactly what I’m asking you. You come recommended when it comes to animals. People say you have a way with them.” Even before the words had come out of my mouth I felt myself blushing again.8

She was suddenly very serious, staring back at me intently. She took an abrupt step towards me and I felt myself flinch instinctively. I think to this day that is what she wanted me to do, because as soon as she saw the display of fear she turned her back to me and resumed brushing the gelding in the stall, the cigarette clamped tightly in the corner of her mouth. 9

“They have a shortage of men up there in Avery Creek?” she said, just as I was giving up. Fueled by the statement I replied with a little too much honesty. “I don’t want a man…the thought of having a man around seems, indecent somehow.”10

***11

The thought of having a man around seems indecent somehow. I looked at Carolyn and realized she was in fact, quite serious, and that she was determined not to let me catch a glimpse of whatever was weighing on her. A woman I could relate to…12

Clay was still restless, and the smell of the smoke was making him nervous. I stepped out of the stall just in time to see Carolyn turning the corner to leave the stable. It was only a glimpse but she was walking as though she felt defeated.13

“God damnit…” I said out loud to Clay as I weighed the possibility. She was right about the shortage of work and something about her mannerisms…something about not wanting to be near a man. It reeked of heart break but I didn’t know why. She had a northern accent that I couldn’t place. She walked, talked and acted like she knew little to nothing about farming or ranching. 14

“God damnit…” I breathed again as I sprinted out the stable, and around the corner just in time to see her opening the door to a beat up Ford Escort. 15

She looked up as I came closer, half afraid of me and half curious. Her keys were in her hand and I could tell that she was determined not to make a fool of herself twice in one day. The truth was that I sympathized with her situation, whatever it was. To be a woman and to have to do that kind of work is difficult to a point that most men will never understand. And whatever strange circumstances that had brought her to me had a purpose of some kind. “Wait a minute and let me lock up. We’ll go get a drink and talk about this some more if you would like.” She smiled at me then, and the hope resurfacing in her face was enough to make me feel like a real asshole for the way I had treated her. “Okay…Okay.” she said, the warmth returning to her face. 16

***17

“Are you hungry?” I asked, not really knowing what to do or how to feel about the strange woman sitting at my kitchen table. I poured two cups of coffee and waited for her to reply. She seemed lost in some kind of a daze, taking in the small place with a look of wonder. As I waited for her to answer me I quietly poured a little whiskey in my cup from the flask, and held it up in offering. “Oh no thank you…” she whispered, and as I went to slip it back in my pocket. “well…yes, okay, a little wouldn’t hurt would it?” 18

I smiled as I put the cup down in front of her. Something about her polite, neat accent was charming in a very naive kind of way. She sounded like someone who was accustomed to ordering in restaurants, not someone who could run a ranch or perform the basic tasks necessary for survival. She sipped at the coffee carefully and made a face at the taste of the liquor. “I know, its little strong. It’s homemade right here in Asheville.” I suddenly felt stupid for having said it like that but she didn’t even seem to notice, she was so taken up by her surroundings.19

“So what are we talking about here?” I asked, leaning back in my chair and taking a long draw on my cigarette. She looked confused for a moment and then replied too quickly “Well you’d be boarding I think. And I’ve never done this before so I don’t know how much pay would be customary. I don’t have a lot of money…” she looked down into her coffee cup as thought all the proper answers would be hidden within it. “What kind of animals are we talking?” I questioned and again I got that blank expression.20

“Pigs? Cows? Horses? You know I deal mainly in horses, but I’ve got experience with most anything that can be raised in this climate.” “Oh, oh…” she laughed nervously “There’s a cow…and a couple of pigs. A few chickens and I’ve got…” she counted on her fingers “four horses. Three female and one male.” “Three mares and one stallion.” I corrected before I even knew what I was talking about. I stammered and then added “That’s assuming that the male hasn’t been castrated…has he?” The bewildered look on her face told me that she had no idea exactly what she had.21

“My husband bought the animals. He knew what to do…” and then she sighed a long, tired sigh. “He passed away six months ago. So now, you can understand why I didn’t feel comfortable with having a man around the house just yet.” Suddenly there were tears in her eyes. “God damnit, I don’t know what to do with the place! I was an accountant for god’s sakes! But James wanted to come here…it was the last thing he wanted…” and she stopped, putting her head in her hands.22

I studied her from across the table for a moment before I reached out to her. I put my hand on top of hers, and stood to come around the table. She pulled me to her with a movement I hadn’t expected, catching me completely off guard. She sobbed into my shirt. “I didn’t know who else I could try to get to help me. The women around there find me detestable and I don’t know why. The men shun me like I have the plague and everywhere I look I’m reminded of the fact that I don’t know anything about this place or what I’ve gotten myself into!”23

I stroked her hair and listened until she was no longer making any sense, and then pulled her closer against me. “Shhh…“I whispered, feeling responsible for the sudden out break “We’ll fix it honey…we’ll fix it.” 24