WHO: Savannah Tierney and Sebastien Cox (and a horse!) WHEN: The afternoon of Monday, May 14th WHERE: Somewhere along route 202 outside of Fall City. SUMMARY: Sav calls for help during the storm, Seb answers the call with dramatic flair. WARNINGS: None.
"Yes, hello! Hi! Is this--is this Sebastien Cox?"
"Yes." Distracted. "Who is-- Savannah?"
"It's me, Sebastien! I'm so glad you picked up. I've been trying everywhere."
"Is everything alright?"
"No! It absolutely is not! This might be the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and let me tell you, that is saying something with how things have been going lately!"
A concerned, "Are you injured? Safe?"
"No, I am not at all safe. My car went off the road and now I am in a ditch. There's mud and water everywhere and I'm stuck and don't know what to do. And--and I'm not injured but I am very upset!"
He breathed a little easier to hear she was uninjured. "I'll try to come get you. Pull up your GPS and text me your location, and I'll be there as soon as I can."
"With a truck, I’m hoping!"
Or with a horse, as it turned out to be.
Savannah was wide-eyed as he rode up to her on horseback, at first too much a city girl to fully grasp what she was seeing. Where she was from, a roadside rescue was done in the form of a tow truck or town car. A horse was essentially an oversized pet, and it the last thing she imagined Sebastien to bring when she called him for help.
She stood in the middle of the road to meet him, holding her tan coat around herself although it was useless against the downpour. "I am very happy to see you, but I don't think he's going to be able to pull my car out of the mud," she said doubtfully, keeping a respectful distance from the massive animal.
A rescue on horseback was not the original plan, but no more than halfway down the driveway in his car it became clear that Sebastien was just as likely to also end up in a ditch as to make it to Savannah's aid. With that in mind, he'd been forced to reassess the situation.
Which was how he'd found himself here, drenched to the bone astride his horse, a large black beast who stood stoic in the face of the downpour. "No," Sebastien agreed, as unworried as his four-legged companion. "Not alone, at least. But I thought it might be better than receiving a call that I was stuck in a ditch, too."
"That's fair," Savannah allowed, looking up at horse and rider. "I don't know who I could've called if we both needed help!" It was an attempt at humor but a weak one; her face fell a second later. Hair soaked and makeup running -- she could only imagine the mess she looked like to him, this person whom she respected and was once (sort of) colleagues with. She felt as though she owed him an explanation. "I had thought that if I stayed in Seattle until the power came back on, I could continue to work.”
He offered her the thin beginnings of a smile, before he swung down from the saddle, an otherwise graceful descent marred by the splash of mud as his feet hit the ground. Her appearance was hardly his greatest concern at a time like this, though he did take a moment to look her over, inspecting for any injuries which might be visible despite the weather. Satisfied, he held out his hand. "It was a good thought. Come on, I'll help you mount up and then I'll ride behind you."
Without thinking it over, it seemed a solid suggestion and Savannah nearly accepted his hand -- but then her racing thoughts caught up to her. She pulled away. "What about my things?" she asked, recalling the several suitcases she had loaded into her car for her overnight trip. Not to mention she was still wary of the horse, even if it seemed completely oblivious to her presence. "I thought we were going to get my car out. Wouldn't you like to see it?" Not that there was much to see; its front wheels were up to the rims in mud. There might have been a chance at getting it out earlier, but Savannah's clumsy attempts to free the car had only mired it further.
Sebastien started to reach toward her, but caught himself as she paused. "If it's more than a purse or backpack, you'll have to leave it for now." It didn't seem as though Savannah had enough riding experience to attempt balancing a suitcase along with staying on the horse in less than ideal conditions. "When the weather clears up some, we can get a truck or a tractor out here to pull it out." He glanced toward the ditch, but made no move to get any closer to the mired vehicle, knowing there was nothing he could do without assistance. "I wanted to get you out of the rain. The rest can be dealt with later."
"But it is more than a purse or backpack," she answered quickly, worry seizing her. "What if someone takes it?" Her journals could be safely bundled into a bag and it didn't matter if they got damp, but what about her laptop? What about her clothes? She turned back to face her car, rising water already past its hubcaps. "Perhaps I should stay, Sebastien."
"No, you shouldn't stay." There was a slight edge of frustration to his voice, the echo of which was visible in the tightening of his jaw as he forcibly pressed that annoyance back. "Here, I-" he reached into his jacket, pulling out a handful of folded black plastic. "I brought a garbage bag, if something can't get wet. But you need to leave most of it here for now."
She took the bag and looked at it skeptically for a moment, as though the idea of putting her things into a garbage bag was somehow inappropriate. This is for garbage, Savannah wanted to remind him, but then the horse at his side made a soft nicker that brought her back to the absurdity of the situation. Here she was standing in a downpour, her car's flashing emergency lights casting an intermittent glow about them, Sebastien Cox offering her a trash bag, horse judging her...
"I'll be a few moments," she replied decisively. "I will need to sort my valuables." And then she was tiptoeing through the mud back to her car and crawling into the backseat.
"Alright." Maybe she had the right of it, and there was a better way to deal with this -- likely calling in the authorities and or getting his father to join him with the tractor -- but that oft-dormant Hero Complex had kicked in and he'd taken the quickest route to ensuring that she was safe. Other concerns were secondary, which likely explained why he wasn't even in a proper raincoat. "Can I help at all, or... ?"
The horse shifted, growing restless in the relentless rain, and Sebastien placed a soothing hand upon his side. "Soon," he assured the creature. Then, "Do you want me to take you back to the Inn, or back with me to the farm?"
She had wanted to be taken to Seattle, but that was no longer an option. She considered her remaining options as she placed her laptop into the plastic bag and carefully folded it so that it looked vaguely respectable before tucking it into her backpack.
"The Inn, please," she answered, yelling out the open door as she crawled over the front seat for her purse. She tucked that into her pack too, and then, finally satisfied, stepped back out into the rain. It seemed colder than before and she frowned a little, realizing he was missing a jacket. "Sebastien, aren't you cold?"
"Alright." It meant a trip to the Inn and then immediately back to the farm, with no opportunity to dry off in between, but Sebastien said nothing. It wasn't as though he could get any wetter, at this point. "I'm fine," he answered, the words too quick to be anything other than an automatic response. "Hand me your bag and I'll help you mount. Here." He held out his hand again.
Savannah handed her bag to him carefully, brow creased in worry once it left her hands for fear that her delicate packaging would come undone. She swallowed her complaint, however. He had been kind enough to come this far, and it wasn't as though she didn't have backups upon backups of her work.
When his attention returned to her with the intention of helping her get onto the horse, an entirely new worry settled on her -- cold and more frightening than the rain. This close to the large animal, she was confronted with the fact that it most certainly was a beast capable of stomping on her should it so wish, and her only comfort was that it seemed completely disinterested in her. Gripping the saddle, she placed her foot in one of the stirrups and began to lift herself up. "Does he have a name?" she asked, feeling more than a little daunted now that she was attempting to scale its side.
Sebastien shouldered her bag, having no good way to attach it to his horse's saddle -- he hadn't planned very well, it seemed. Aware of her apparent concern, he was careful with the precious contents. "His name is Black Bandit, but you can call him Roy." He found some source of humor in that statement, but he offered no explanation for his faint smile. "I can help you, if you'd like." Although he reached for her, his hands hovered carefully, awaiting permission.
"It's slippery," she commented, more to herself than to him. She gripped the saddle horn tightly with one hand, but the other found little purchase on the slick leather. Certain she was going to find herself down in the mud if she attempted further, she looked back at Sebastien. Perhaps he was good for one more rescue before her pride was in tatters. "Yes, please. He's taller than I am used to."
Although he had a strong feeling that she wasn't used to horses at all, he said nothing about his suspicions. Instead, he placed his hands on her waist, helping to lift until he felt her settle in the saddle. "Get as far forward as you can," he instructed, before swinging himself up into the saddle behind her with ease.
His sudden weight and presence behind her caused her to temporarily forget her trepidation regarding the horse. The rain did nothing to lessen the flush of heat that rose in her cheeks and she was glad he could only see the back of her head. If this was anything other than a rescue, she thought to herself, this would seem very inappropriate. But it was only a rescue, so she forced herself to focus on what actually mattered -- "Where do I put my hands?" All she saw was horse mane and open air.
Sebastien was utterly oblivious to any discomfort on her end, too focused on his task to consider any perspective other than the most utilitarian. "You can grab his mane, if you're comfortable with that." He reached around her, picking up the reins in an easy grip. "Or you can hold the reins with me. Whatever makes you feel more secure."
The options he gave her were obvious ones, but they confounded her for a moment. Fearing that she might accidentally get in his way, however, she reached forward and took up a handful of soggy mane. "Nice Bandit," she said quietly to the horse, watching his ears swivel in her direction. Or was it Roy? She frowned a little, noticing at last that Sebastien had hinted at some kind of in-joke that she hadn't grasped. She chanced a glance over her shoulder -- "The Inn is pretty far. Is there someplace closer you'd like to drop me off at?"
It was impossible to avoid physical contact with her given their position, but Sebastien did his best to avoid being too invasive, attempting to keep at least a breath of space between their bodies after he'd picked up the reins. "He's a good horse." He leaned over just enough to place a hand against the horse's side, giving the animal an affectionate pat before he urged him forward. "It's fine, I'm already here. I might as well take you all the way there." Slogging through the mud didn't really seem to be her style, after all.
"Oh." If she sounded disappointed, it wasn't intentional. They weren't that far away from town -- perhaps a handful of miles -- but what had taken her five minutes by car would likely take much longer for a horse with two riders. Take into consideration the fact that her blush still burned at the tips of her ears, and... she was in for a long trip, indeed. "This is very kind of you, Sebastien," Savannah said, as polite as she could muster while still being rained on. "I'm sure my father will insist on some kind of payment for your trouble."
While the opportunity to get out of the rain a bit sooner was an attractive one, there'd be no real respite from damp clothes -- and no proper care for his horse -- until he made it back to the farm. The best plan seemed to simply keep going, even if the weather was beginning to wear at him. "I don't require any payment," he answered with a hint of offense to his tone. "I volunteered to help you of my own accord."
Oh. She didn't want to repeat herself, but the sentiment was in her head all the same. "Well, I did say that he may insist," she replied. Her father had been her first phone call after her car slid into the ditch, and she knew that he would call her back as soon as he listened through the voicemails she left him. He might have been too busy for her now, but later, his pride would have him writing out checks or favors for his daughter's rescuer. "This is the second time you've helped me. Maybe you should let him be nice."
"I think I owe you father more than I could ever repay, even if you found yourself stuck in a dozen ditches. I won't take anything from him." His tone was firm, but there was something behind the words which hinted at a nameless frustration, as though he'd rather be involved in any conversation but this one. He gripped the reins tighter and stared out into the storm, focusing on the road ahead rather than the woman who was practically in his arms. "You don't even have to tell him that it was me."
"Why wouldn't I!" she asked, as though what he was suggesting was beyond her belief. Sebastien had the benefit of being both someone who was helping a Hollywood producer's daughter and someone who said Hollywood producer already liked. To turn down his good will seemed... at best, counter-intuitive. At worst, it seemed plain idiotic. She shifted in her seat, twisting so that she could look at him. "If it's because of daddy that you're helping me, then you should at least be honest about it and, and not be so mysterious."
"Mysterious?" He seemed faintly amused by that, even if only the barest hint of a smile showed upon his lips. "I didn't realize I was being mysterious." A downed tree lay right against the side of the road, and he carefully gave Black Bandit a wide berth around the potential obstruction, keeping an eye out for any foolhardy drivers at the same time. "I'm helping you because I consider you a friend, and I don't leave my friends stranded on the side of the road in a storm."
It was the simplest answer she could have received, yet she had to mull it over for a moment. She had chosen him to call because she could think of no one else in Fall City, not because she considered him a friend at the time. She felt a little silly now that his words were out there; especially when she reflected on her concern when he had seated her (practically!) in his lap in the saddle. "Well, you did seem very mysterious," she pointed out, smiling up at him in what she thought was relief. "You had a black horse and you forgot your umbrella."
That he considered her a friend was not strictly true -- he barely knew her, in reality -- but it seemed a far easier answer than attempting to explain how he both enjoyed her company and felt some lingering sense of obligation to her father. She could be his friend, given more time. "I didn't forget my umbrella," he answered with an echoing smile. "I only have so many hands."
"A raincoat then," she corrected herself, turning back around so that she was facing forward. No longer so concerned with clinging for dear life or that she might have been picked up by some kind of dark brooding hero like in one of her books, she began to feel more confident. "May I hold the reins now? It doesn't look so hard."
Sebastien might have been dark and brooding, and he might even have been attempting the role of hero in this awkward rescue, but he wasn't here to sweep her off of her feet. He wasn't exactly in a position to do that, after all -- who ever heard of a janitor as a romantic hero? "Here," he offered, holding them out for her to take. "Just try to keep to the edge of the road, just in case."
She recalled learning from somewhere that directing a horse from the saddle was largely done with the legs and not the reins, but that didn't stop her from taking the reins when he offered. If they were going to ride together into town -- and perhaps spotted by her peers! -- then it was better that she didn't look a complete damsel. ... Plus, it was a little fun to pretend as though she knew what she was doing. "Thank you, Sebastien," she said after a few minutes like this. For several things but, in that moment, mainly for answering his phone.