Lost and Found [Harvest Moon: A New Beginning]

Horses

Vaughn looked up at the sun high overhead in the cloudless sky, squinting and shading his eyes from the dazzling brilliance. Time for a break, he thought to himself, stretching out the kinks in his aching back. Goddess, he hadn't worked this hard in ages. He was going to feel it in the morning, he thought to himself, wincing at the idea. Still, he had to admit that it felt good to really use his muscles for a change, instead of sitting in the saddle all day, riding from sunup to sundown as he searched for any trace of his lost love.

Lost love.... He'd imagined finding her a thousand times or more, played it over and over in his thoughts: an infinitely variable film in his head, set to the cadence of hoofbeats. And each time she'd been happy—no, not just happy, but positively ecstatic—to see him, moved to tears by his devotion. Sometimes they returned to the islands in his daydreams, and sometimes they stayed put wherever he found her. But most often, they'd pack up and move to a whole new place. Somewhere quiet, isolated... just the two of them. Somewhere sunny and warm, where she could really thrive. She blossomed in the sun, just like those big yellow sunflowers she was so fond of. In his dreams, she had whole fields full of golden sunflowers, and she'd dance among them for the sheer joy of living as the sun smiled down on her.

He sighed as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Things hadn't turned out at all like he'd dreamed... but at least he'd finally found her. True, she seemed pretty keen on that kid, and sure, she was mad as hell about the other women.... Not that he could really blame her. He shook his head. What an ass he'd been, behaving that way. He was old enough, he should have known better. He did know better—but he'd gone ahead and done it anyway, and then he'd made it worse by trying to deny it and shift some of the blame. Now he was reaping a mighty bitter harvest from those wild oats, and he had no one to blame for it but himself. Still, he appreciated the opportunity she'd given him, letting him stay and work for her when she could have just sent him packing. And while she'd made it very clear that there was a boundary between them that he was not to cross under any circumstances... he hoped that with time and association, she might soften that boundary—might even do away with it all together, if luck was on his side.

He trudged up the steps to the house, and paused for a moment. The front door was wide open, and an unfamiliar scent was wafting through it. He sniffed, frowning as he tried to identify it, then sauntered on in, scraping his boots before stepping through the doorway. Tossing his hat onto the sideboard, he saw Rio at work in the kitchen, her face flushed from the heat, wisps of steam-dampened hair clinging to her face and neck where it had escaped her ponytail. She was stir-frying something, shaking a wok to toss the contents, then stirring vigorously as she poured in a sauce of some sort. A spicy-sweet fragrance filled the house, and she shook the pan a few more times before pulling it off the burner and quickly turning to pour the contents into a large bowl on the counter. She looked up as he came over, smiled distractedly, and turned back to her work, quickly removing a bowl and two large jugs from the fridge.

She grabbed a pair of plates and a couple of containers and lined them up on the counter. As she dished up rice, topped it with the stir-fry, and added slices of ripe mango to the plates and the smaller container, he asked, "What's cookin'? Doesn't look familiar. Smells spicy, though."

"Chili prawns," she replied, not looking up as she started to pour iced tea. She paused, the glass half-filled, and asked, "Tea, lemonade, or half and half?"

"Half and half, please. Thanks," he replied "Can I help?"

"Sure. Take those plates to the table, please?"

As she finished pouring their beverages, he carried the plates out. She snapped lids on the containers, dropped them into an insulated bag, grabbed the glasses and some napkins and silverware, and joined Vaughn at the table. They sat down, and he took a small taste of the food. He didn't care for fish, so he'd never tried prawns before. "Not bad," he said before taking a larger bite. "How'd you come up with it?"