Rune and I are walking the parameters of the Borstad property mid-morning on Saturday. Ostensibly, we're on an assignment from Gunnar. He's taken the kids and Kim to Bainbridge for Lorelei's riding lesson and errands for horseproofing the barn.

Our job is to check out the situation with the acres of old horse pastures to find out if any of the fencing is salvageable. I'm happy we're out here. It's an excellent way to clear our heads after the conversation we just had with Syd and Dad.

The good news is that Mom's talking to the Narcissus podcast team today and the police on Monday morning. The bad news is that the stories about us are moving from smaller indie gossip sites to more legitimate ones.

My texts and emails are now filled with concerned messages from friends and extended family. Several are supportive, laughing at the idea I have a secret love child with a celebrity, but are cheering me on (Go girl! He's so hot!). Others, however, commiserate with me for the custody battle. Okay, friends of my late grandmother, I can maybe understand. They don't know me well. But how can people I worked with believe this about me? Especially when some of them saw me daily during the time I should have been pregnant with a secret child. No wonder Vivienne didn't want to let our former co-workers know she's a sensuality coach.

We're all being contacted by so many people that Dad and Syd are crafting a joint statement to share rather than replying repeatedly to dispel the terrible rumors. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, relaxing my tight, stiff, anxious shoulders.

It's a beautiful, bright, clear morning, with just enough wind to move the fluffy white clouds across the sky leisurely. Concentrating on the breeze's caress on my face and the sun's warmth on my bare arms, I wait for Rune to answer the question I just asked him again.

I want him to say yes to Kim's idea of proactively telling our collective story on social media. We briefly discussed it at dinner last night as a group, but Rune slithered out of letting us know whether he was for or against it. Surprisingly, Gunnar's all for it; he loves the idea of beating Jenna at her own game, as long as he can get on with what needs to be done and Kim can follow him around with the camera.

I decided not to push Rune on an answer last night, even later when we were alone. If possible, I want to keep the stress of what's going out of the honeymoon phase of our time between the sheets. Those moments when we're by ourselves, skin to skin, are too precious to me.

"I don't want this to be the Asher Dillion show," Rune says finally, breaking into my mental musings. I can't see his eyes behind his Ray-Ban's, but the line of his mouth is unhappy, "I prefer to be behind the camera."

He's not saying no, Theo comments.

"Okay," I say, keeping my voice neutral as I follow behind Rune in the tall, dry, now primarily brown grass, "We're going to have to make sure there's nothing poisonous to horses growing out here before any of them arrive."

"Good point," Rune says, easing off the grumpy tone as he tests the strength of a post that seems still in decent shape. Most aren't, "Do you know enough about that, or do we need to do research?"

"I'll do research," I confirm and make a note on my phone.

"If we do what Kim's suggesting, the kids should stay mostly in the background," Rune circles back to the main subject.

"Absolutely," I agree but say nothing else.

"I really do prefer to be behind the camera, Shells," Rune reiterates, giving me a sharp glance for emphasis before striding quickly past the places where the fence has completely fallen apart.

"Yes, of course," I agree again.

As I move to follow my head fills suddenly with the now familiar gong. This time, a vivid pink Hibiscus flower blooms in my mind's eye. It's accompanied by a seductive mix of fragrance. The heady deliciousness of roses and something else more exotic but somewhat familiar that I can't name fills my nose. Maybe frankincense?

I stop and search the trees lining the paddock fence for Lord Ganesha behind us. Nothing. I rotate slowly back towards Rune, who's inspecting another post.

The elephant god's twenty feet or so ahead of us. This time, he's a mix of man and elephant, dressed in elegant blue robes with an elaborate gold crown on his head. Lord Ganesha lifts both his trunk and his hand at me in greeting. I raise mine back. I imagine it's smart to be polite to a god of luck, after all, we can use all we can get right now.

Sensing I'm no longer following him, Rune turns to give me a curious gaze. As Lord Ganesha winks out, I lift my other hand to the same height and then reach both, gesturing to the pastures around us as if that's what I meant to do all along.

"You need to be the director of this project," I say quickly, realizing the opportunity the remover of obstacles wants me to seize. When Rune looks confused, I clarify, "I mean telling the story of this becoming a home for horses again."

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

"Okay. I'm listening," Rune says, hands on hips. I can tell by his tone thought, and how his head's tilted, he's intrigued.

"Pretend this is a documentary we're making," I say brightly, feeling inspired now, "about the four of us coming together to make the Horse Girls Heroes calendar successful enough to help give all of the rescue horses find new homes, including those who will live here."

Rune nods but doesn't say anything for a moment. He looks around intently as if trying to figure something out. I'm starting to worry he's going to slither out again when he gives me a delighted smile that makes my knees weak

"This is the paddock where we had the sleepover to stargaze with my mom. One of the many opportunities I was too shy to hold your hand," he says, apropos of nothing. But I understand. He's with me. He's ready to tell more of our story.

"Oh," I glance around too and think back to that night all those years ago, "You're right. It is."

"I'm glad I finally got over that shyness," he steps towards me and takes my hand, squeezing it gently.

"Yes, me too," I agree, not wanting to get distracted by lust, yet thrilled by his touch, "but what about Kim's idea?" I want to hear him agree aloud.

"Okay, Ms. Witch," he kisses my cheek, "You've convinced me. I'll play director."

**

"Boy, once Rune commits, he really commits," Syd acknowledges with a chuckle, looking at her phone.

We're on the back deck, in the shade out of today's growing heat. Syd's been reading me cocktail ideas for Rune's birthday tomorrow night from Pinterest. So far, the winner is a limoncello/prosecco mix over crushed ice served with frozen blueberries. These are all things we already have on hand.

"Has he texted you an assignment?" I ask, looking up from the drawing I'm working on of the Welsh horse goddess Rhiannon. This is my assignment. I need to finish this and another ancient horse goddess to swap out for real-life modern women I included in the calendar. We don't have the budget or time to buy the rights from them to use their images.

"Yes, I'm now the set decorator for this project," Syd tells me, "He wants to start off with ideas for how we can light the deck for tomorrow night, so it'll film well."

"Wow, is that something you're interested in doing?"

"Actually, I am," Syd says, standing up from the table to gaze up into the branches of the expansive Katsura tree, "I need something active but fun to keep me from reading more of our crazy negative media stories."

**

With our permission, Rune's setting up his directing office in Theo's storage unit in the barn here rather than with Gunnar in the horse barn. There's plenty of space now that most of the clothes are gone, as well as furniture he can use. He's roped Kim into helping him, but no one else is allowed to see it yet.

That's fine. The rest of us are in full mood lighting creation mode on the deck. Syd texted Gunnar to pick up more battery-operated tea and twinkle lights on their way home while she and I went through all the holiday décor in the attic and my stash in the pantry for power outages.

While Lorelei and I learn how to make the holders out of twine for my stash of recycled glass food jars by watching videos, Syd and Nils work out how to light the Katsura while Gunnar figures out the electricity.

"I'll climb the tree, and after you wind the lights around the trunk as far as you can reach, you can hand them to me to continue," Nils tells his mother as if this is a no-brainer.

I look up just as Nils steps onto the top of the fence surrounding the deck, then shimmies up into the rough-barked, many-limbed tree.

"You could have waited until I had already wound it up," Syd calls up to him.

"Nah," Nils laughs, "it's nice up here. Shelby, Lorelei, do you have a jar ready I can try hanging?"

**

The deck lighting is fantastic by ten thirty when Rune and I head upstairs. We've used almost every glass jar I've collected and every length of twine we can find. The tree is wrapped in twinkle lights, and lit glass lanterns hang from several branches. The lanterns also hang off of the deck railing.

"We have to get a shot from up here," Rune says, as we stand gazing down at it all. It's incredible what the proper lighting can do.

"Definitely," I agree with Rune, trying not to tear up. I wish Theo could be here more than just in my mind. I notice a shoebox on the bed as we come inside. "What's that?"

"Check it out," Rune says, turning on the lamp on his side of the bed, "It's some photos I asked Uncle Hank to send."

I open the box and realize quickly they must be the photos Astrid took during our summers together. There are photos of Nan, Rune's grandfather, Sally, Uncle Hank, Theo, and even my grandmother. But by and large, this is a collection of photos of children. Of course, most are of Rune, followed closely by Gunnar, but there are also picture after picture of Syd and me. I'm completely stunned. My parents don't have nearly this many photos of us as kids.

"This is my favorite," Rune says, handing me a photo of the two of us on the day we met. We're sitting together on his Aunt Sally's retired eventing horse, Storm Cloud. I still remember this moment so well that it's surreal to see a photo of it.

I take the photo from him gently to study it. What strikes me immediately is my confidence in the photo. I'm just nine, but totally in my element. I sit on that gentle but very tall horse with ease. My hands are easy on the reins, my heels down even though we ride bareback.

Behind me, his hands on my waist, Rune's beaming with evident joy. I set the photo aside carefully to take the others he's ready to hand me. My eyes fill with tears as I look at image after image of the four of us captured with such care, love, and artistry. There are pics from Rune's birthday parties, trail rides, trips to the beach, Gunnar and Syd on mountain bikes, and ordinary days of helping in Nan or my grandmother's vegetable gardens.

In all of them, I'm as interesting and photogenic as the others. I understand why this adorable young Rune fell in love with me. I'm adorable, too. What happened to this girl? When did I decide I wasn't interesting?

Mourn her, Theo says, but also realize that right here right now you're very interesting.

"Seashell, what's wrong?" Rune asks, taking the photos from my hands as tears stream down my face, and then reaching to pull me into his arms.

"Nothing," I sniff, crying harder, "I'm just happy."