by Helen Conrad
Moving quickly, she pulled a pocketknife from her slacks and began cutting back the thorny arms of the blackberry bush, making a tunnel she could crouch down in to get to the girl.
“Petra, Petra, please answer me.” She felt for a pulse and was flooded with relief when she found it easily. At her touch, the girl stirred.
“Oh!” Her eyelids fluttered.
“Lie still.” Shawnee checked her for broken bones and found no evidence of any. “Don’t try to get up.”
She might have saved her breath. Petra was unconscious again. Shawnee jumped up and ran to the bay horse, pulling the saddle blanket out from under the saddle and dashing back to cover Petra. She rolled a large, flat stone over to place beneath the girl’s feet, then sat back. “Keep her warm and elevate the feet,” she recited from a long-ago class in first aid. “But what else? What can I do to help her?”
She knew Petra shouldn’t be moved without professional advice. She could wait here and call to the next rider who came through to give them word back at the fairground. Or she could ride back herself. Either way, her chance for the Cup was over.
She glanced at her watch. She had almost half an hour left on her time, but the trail riding-path back was circuitous. If she jumped on Miki and they rode hell-for-leather the straight way, she could reach help in less than ten minutes.
She hated leaving Petra, but she knew she wasn’t doing the girl any good just sitting here beside her. She needed a doctor. There was no telling what she’d hurt in her fall. Shawnee knew she had to get back to the fairground as quickly as she could.
Without another thought on the matter, she mounted and kneed Miki hard. “Let’s go, big boy,” she called to her horse. “We’ve got something important to do.”
“Sorry, Granpa Jim,” she mourned quietly as they rode. “We gave it a good shot.” But she wouldn’t think about that. Right now, all that was important was to make sure Petra was all right.
It was hard to smile when it seemed like the end of the world. People kept stopping by the stall to commend her for what she’d done. She wasn’t especially proud. She’d done what anyone would have. There’d been very little choice.
“They’re getting her out by helicopter,” Lisa came by to report, “Still no word on her condition.” And she left again.
Shawnee went back to massaging Miki’s legs. The poor old boy had done so well, and had really shown his heart in that last-minute race for the doctor. But he’d arrived winded and flecked with foam. You didn’t win trail-riding that way. Even if they’d followed the proper course she knew there would have been no hope.
“No Cup, Miki,” she whispered, leaning her face against the animal. “But you’re a winner just the same.”
“Shawnee.” She turned and found Allison standing at the entrance to the stall. “Oh, Shawnee, how can I ever thank you?” The woman’s voice broke and she swallowed hard. She tried to speak but tears choked her.
Shawnee rose and went to her. “You don’t have to thank me, Allison. How is Petra?”
Allison’s shoulders were shaking, but she managed to get the words out. “She’s on her way to the hospital. I’m going there now. They say . . . they say it’s only a broken shoulder and a concussion. But you . . . you gave up the Cup . . .”
Her tear-filled eyes were huge and suddenly Shawnee saw a bit of David there. She reached out and took the woman in her arms, comforting her.
“I didn’t give up anything,” she mumbled huskily. “You won it all on your own. Now you’d better get to your daughter’s side.”
Allison smiled tremulously as she pulled away. Shawnee had a sudden thought. “Have you contacted her father?” she asked. “He might want to come to her, too.”
Allison looked shocked, then slowly, she relaxed again. “You’re right,” she said dully. “I’ll have to call him on the way to the hospital.” She looked at Shawnee again, tried to smile, grabbed her hand and squeezed it very hard, then left as quickly as she’d come.
How ironic, Shawnee thought as she went back to work on Miki’s legs. Now that she’d lost David, it looked as though she might become friends with his sister.
Lost David. What a concept. That was another thing she’d never had, so how could she lose? She sighed, leaning against Miki again, wishing— wishing—
“Aren’t you going to the ball tonight?” Lisa asked later as they drove Miki back to his own stable in the horse-van Shawnee had borrowed from Brad. “You really should go. After all, you won the first day of competition. There’s certainly nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed, Lisa.” She knew her voice was sharper than was needed, but she couldn’t help it. It had been a long day. “I’m just tired. And heartsick, if you must know. I can’t imagine dancing the night away.” She looked out of the window at the thick oaks they were passing. “Besides,” she said in a low voice, “I don’t have anyone to go with.”
There was a moment of silence. Lisa knew David had left, though she didn’t know the details. Shawnee hadn’t confided totally in her, but she knew her sister, and she could surmise what hadn’t been said in words. “You’re welcome to go with Brad and me,” Lisa reminded her finally. “You know that.”
Shawnee nodded. “I don’t want to leave Granpa Jim alone,” she said softly. “Not tonight.”
Lisa had no answer for that. They’d all decided this would have to be the night that they moved out of the old house and in with Lisa and Brad. They’d told Granpa Jim it was because of the horse-show.
But tomorrow, they would have to tell him it was a permanent move. Shawnee dreaded that as she’d never dreaded anything else. No, she couldn’t leave him alone tonight.
They bedded Miki down comfortably and then drove back to Lisa’s house, neither speaking much except when necessary, Granpa Jim was sitting in the living-room when they arrived, talking to Brad.
“There she is,” he said as they entered, looking up proudly, “There’s my girl. She beat the Santiagos, you know. Wiped the floor with ’em.”
Shawnee hesitated, about to remind him that today’s results hadn’t been that triumphant, but Lisa gestured sternly from behind her grandfather’s back, stopping her.
“Don’t you dare burst his bubble,” she scolded a few minutes later when they were alone in the kitchen. “Who’s going to be hurt if he just remembers what he wants to remember?”
“He will be,” she said, “when someone else tells him the truth to stop his bragging.”
Lisa grinned, handing Shawnee some potatoes to peel. “And he just won’t believe them. You’ll see. You won as far as he’s concerned. Nobody will ever be able to tell him different.”
Shawnee supposed there was some comfort in that, though it wasn’t what she’d hoped for. They ate a quiet meal and Lisa and Brad went up to get ready for the ball. Shawnee turned on the television and sat on the couch beside her grandfather, trying not to think about the confrontation ahead. The doorbell rang, promising a welcome respite from her unhappy thoughts and she went to answer it willingly. When she found David standing on the doorstep, her first impulse was to slam the door in his face.
“Hold it.” He’d read her mind and his foot was already in the way. “I’m not listening to any more of your silliness, Shawnee. I’m tired of cat-and-mouse games. I’ve come to get you and I’m not leaving without you.”
She gaped at him. He was dressed in black tie, obviously ready for the ball and he looked like a very determined man.
“I. . . I thought you were in Santa Barbara,” she stammered, fighting for time to think.
“I didn’t make it.” He stared at her coldly. “I was planning to drive very far, very fast, away from you and your damn horse. I thought perhaps that would help me forget the danger you were in. But it wasn’t working. And then there was an announcement on the radio about a horsewoman having been hurt. They didn’t give any name . . .”
His winced, remembering how his heart had stopped. Looking up, his glare pierced
her. “And if I weren’t so upset with you, I’d be holding you very tightly right now, just because it turned out not to be you who was hurt, after I drove back at record speed.”
She blinked at him.
“Oh,” was all she could manage in response.
His words seemed to say that he’d been worried about her, but his eyes said he was very, very angry with her, too. She had a shaky feeling that he was going to get what he wanted tonight, whatever that might be.
“Get out of my way,” he told her curtly, his eyes hard as rock. “I’ve got something I’ve got to do.”
She stepped back and watched, wide-eyed, as he entered the house and went straight to where her grandfather sat on the couch.
“Hello, Mr. Carrington,” he said, and her grandfather looked up blankly. “How are you this evening?”
Granpa Jim narrowed his eyes. His face took on a crafty look. “Aren’t you that young fellow who was helping with the painting the other day?” he asked as crisply as Shawnee had ever heard him speak. “Aren’t you the one?”
David nodded. “Yes sir, I am.”
Granpa Jim frowned. “How come you haven’t been back since?”
David put his hands behind his back and stood easily before the older man. “Well, sir, I’ve been kind of busy at home.”
Granpa nodded slowly. “You come on back and see us,” he advised. “Shawnee likes you.”
David glanced quickly at where Shawnee was hovering protectively, suppressing what almost looked like a smile.
“I like her, too, Mr. Carrington.” He paused, looked at Shawnee again, then turned back to Granpa Jim and spoke firmly. “In fact, I’m in love with your granddaughter, sir. I want to marry her.”
Shawnee gasped, her hand covering her mouth, too stunned to know what to do to stop him from saying these ridiculous things. He couldn’t possibly mean them! Could he?
Granpa nodded his head as though this were something he’d been expecting. “You do, do you?”
“Yes. I want to take her to live at Rancho Verde. Will you let her go?”
Granpa Jim stared at him, then stared into space, seeing something the others couldn’t. “She won, you know,” he murmured. “Beat the Santiagos at their own game.”
“Yes sir. I know she did.” He leaned a little closer. “But you know what? She did better than that. She made a Santiago fall in love with her. This Santiago.”
He looked up at Shawnee, holding her gaze with his own dark one, and she stared into his eyes, loving him, but afraid to believe what she was hearing, afraid to take the chance. “And when we have a son,” David said clearly, still staring at Shawnee, “he’ll get the ranch back for you.”
Granpa Jim nodded wisely. “She’s a smart one, ol’ Shawnee. I knew she’d do it.” He peered at David. “What’s your name again?”
“David. David Santiago.”
It seemed as though the very room held its breath while Granpa Jim digested that bit of information. He stared at David, then looked at Shawnee. “She’s a smart one,” he repeated softly.
David smiled. “Then you don’t mind if I marry her?”
Suddenly Granpa Jim grinned. “Mind? Hell, I think it’s the best damn thing that ever happened around here.”
David turned to Shawnee, triumph shining in his face. “You see?” he told her softly, “all you have to do is approach a problem the right way and it’ll clear itself up.”
Shawnee’s head was spinning. “But David . . ,” she protested as his arms came around her. “But David…..”
Just then Lisa came into the room, dressed in shimmering silk and David looked up.
“Can you find a dress for this ragamuffin?” he asked her, looking scornfully at Shawnee’s jeans and plaid shirt. “I didn’t want my Cinderella to turn into a pumpkin until after the ball.”
Lisa grinned, already on to what was happening. “Are you kidding? I’ve got a wardrobe full of stuff,” She pulled on Shawnee’s arm. “Come on, Cindy-baby. It’s your fairy godmother talking.”
“But David . …” She looked back pleadingly, but her prince was waving her away.
“Your grandfather and I have some talking to do,” he told her. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket he pulled out the same folded papers he’d had earlier that day at the stable. “I was going to show these to you before, but you made me so angry when you called me a cheat, I didn’t do it.”
She frowned, more and more confused. “What are they?”
“A geological report on your grandfather’s acres. They say that grading for the road would unload the toe of an ancient landslide, destabilizing the whole area. It can’t be done.”
She stared at him, mouth agape. “Does that mean . . . ?”
“It means, my little pumpkin, that your grandfather may stay on his land. The road will have to go through somewhere else.” He pinched her cheek. “But that is none of your business. Your grandfather and I will discuss it while you get ready for the ball.”
She let Lisa drag her up to the bedroom and hardly noticed while she was cleaned and powdered and put into a filmy dress that showed off her figure as nothing she’d ever worn before. David loved her. That was all that mattered now. He’d found a way to let her grandfather have his land and he wanted more than a quick affair. He wanted her —forever! It was too much to take in all at once.
She knew she was going to have to spend a very long time getting used to it. Perhaps, the rest of her life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
’TIL THE END OF TIME
Someone must have left the heavy curtains pulled open the night before, because it was sunlight falling across her eyes that woke her. Shawnee stretched in David’s bed, reaching out to touch his warmth before she was fully awake.
His even breathing was a delicious background to her morning. She propped herself up on one elbow and watched him sleep. His dark hair was disheveled and his long, black eyelashes made giant shadows down the planes of his cheeks. He was hers and her heart swelled with joy whenever she looked at him.
But the morning called to her. She turned and slipped from the bed, walking to the long windows in her lacy nightdress, opening the gauzy inner curtains and then the glass doors to the new day. Though it was still warm, there was an autumn crispness to the air, as though the lazy summer were surely over. Rancho Verde still looked green, but some of the trees were turning, and the hills were brown from the late summer drought.
Granpa Jim was all alone on his little plot of land, but he was happy there. He came over to Rancho Verde often, to look around and make his comments on the changes. But it was a different ranch now, and he felt more at home where he’d lived for the last forty years. Shawnee felt as though Rancho Verde was already in her blood.
How different this autumn would be from what she’d imagined! Instead of an end, it would be a beginning. The beginning of her life as a Santiago. Could that young girl working at Merle’s drive-in ever have imagined this?
“Hi.” He’d woken up and come up behind her without her having heard a sound. His arms slipped around her from the back and he looked over her head at the view. “I don’t like to wake up and find you gone.”
“I wasn’t gone,” she sighed, happily snuggling back against him. “I’m right here.”
“Out of reach is too far away.” He leaned down and nuzzled into her neck. “What are you standing here thinking about?”
She grinned. “About girls in distress,” she answered. “About caballeros who ride to the rescue.”
“Mmmm,” he murmured, still nuzzling. “Great stuff. I do it all the time.”
“I know you do.” She giggled. “You did it for me once. Do you remember?” Briefly, she retold her story of the encounter at Merle’s, when he let the local toughs know she was off limits to them.
He thought for a long moment. “Are you sure that was me?” he asked at last.
“Don’t you remember?” she cried, turning to look at him. “What, do you do these things ever
y week?”
He grinned at her, his face still sleepy. “Just about. You meet the nicest people that way.”
She gave him a pretend chop in the ribs and laughed when he bit her earlobe in retaliation. “I think it’s time you limited your supply of new acquaintances made like that,” she suggested. “Let’s winnow the number down to a manageable amount. Say—one.” She reached up and slipped her arms around his neck. “Me.”
“Only one?” He pretended to look forlorn. “Even on holidays?”
“Especially on holidays.”
He sighed. “I didn’t know Indian maidens were such jealous types.”
She nodded smugly. “That we are.” She thought for a moment, then shook her head ruefully. “I didn’t realize how jealous I was myself until I came up against Megan Reilly.”
“Megan was never a threat to you,” he told her earnestly, stroking her long black hair. “She’s a lifelong friend, but never a lover.”
“I know. You’ve told me before.” She smiled at him. “But there was a time I would have sworn otherwise. And Petra telling me you and she were going to get married didn’t help.”
“We never had any such plan.” He began to peel the straps of her nightdress down about her shoulders, kissing the flesh he exposed as he went. “Although Allison was working on that angle practically from the day poor Megan was born.” He sighed. “Megan didn’t ever want to marry me any more than I wanted to marry her. She wants a career in Hollywood. Her mother made her come out here for the summer as one last hope to get her mind off show-business. And on me.” He shook his head. “It didn’t work. Every time we were together, we spent the whole time plotting her big escape. When she left after the Californio Days ball, she was full of ambitions, as always.” He pulled her close, peeling back the silky fabric of her gown a little at a time. “Megan will be big some day. And I’ll always be her biggest fan. But that was as far as it ever went.”
Shawnee knew that now. She’d talked with Megan that last day, and the girl had told her as much herself. She was a little ashamed of how jealous she’d been.
