Palomino

by Danielle Steel

  “There it is.” She said it softly from the backseat, pointing a shaking finger. They passed through the main gate, drove up the winding road, and then she saw it: Aunt Caro's house. But there were no lights on, and although it was only five o'clock in the afternoon, it looked bleak and lonely and sad in the failing light. “Josh said he'd leave the door open. If you want to go inside, Charlie, the living room lights are all on a panel on the right just behind the door.” Sam just sat there with her eyes riveted to the house. She kept expecting to see the lights come on, to see the familiar white hair, to see Aunt Caro's smiling face and a wave of the hand. But as Charlie went in to turn the lights on and then walked quickly back to the car, there was no one beside him, and even the boys grew quiet as they looked around the ranch.

  “Where are the horses, Sam?”

  “In the barn, love. I'll show you tomorrow.”

  “Can't we see them now?”

  She smiled at Charlie over their heads and then nodded. “Okay, let's get our stuff inside, and then I'll take you all over.” But now that she was here, she didn't want to. She didn't want to go into the house, or the barn, she didn't want to see Black Beauty standing in his stall, or Navajo, or the other familiar horses. All she wanted was to see Caroline and Bill King and Tate Jordan, and live a life that she never would live again. There was a lump in her throat the size of an apple as she got herself into her wheelchair and let Charlie back her up the stairs. She rolled herself slowly into the house then and looked around. Then, ever so slowly, she began to roll toward her own room down the hall. A minute later the boys scampered past her, and she forced a smile as she showed them their room, and then she returned to the living room to find Charlie and Melinda. She pointed in the opposite direction, to their room, but she didn't want to see it. She didn't want to see the empty bedroom that had been Caro and Bill's.

  “You all right?” Melinda looked at her gently and she nodded.

  “I'm okay. Honest.”

  “You look tired.”

  She wasn't though, she was just desperately unhappy. “I'm fine.” She was remembering once again with all too painful precision just how she had felt when she had left the ranch, not knowing where Tate was, or if she would ever find him, but still hopeful. And now she knew for certain that she would never see him again. Not only that but she had lost Caro.… The thought of it weighed on her like wet cement. And then as she sat gazing out the window at the dim hills in the twilight, she saw a bandy-legged little figure coming toward her, like an elf or a little wood sprite, and suddenly with damp eyes she was beaming. It was Josh. He had seen the lights in the house and he had hurried to see her. With a broad smile she pushed her way out the door and waited for him in her wheelchair on the porch. But as she did she saw him stop dead where he was standing, and she could see the look of shock on his face and hear the words. “Oh, my God.…” And then suddenly, without knowing when she had started, she was crying, and so was he, and he was halfway up the stairs and she was reaching down, and he bent over her and held her, as together they cried, for Bill and for Caro and for Tate, and for Sam as well. For what seemed like hours there was only the muffled sound of their crying, and then after a time the wizened old cowboy sniffed loudly and stood up.

  “Why didn't nobody never tell me, Sam?”

  “I thought Miss Caro …” He shook his head with a look of despair.

  “How did it happen?”

  She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them. It was as though she too had shared in his shock. As though suddenly she saw herself as he saw her, crippled, in a wheelchair, no more the proud young palomino who had run all over the ranch. It was as though her life were over, as though she had suddenly grown old. And at that moment she knew that she couldn't keep the ranch now. There was no way she could run it. All the men would react the same way to her as Josh had. She was a cripple now—no matter what they had told her at the hospital in New York.

  “Sam…”

  “It's okay, josh.” She smiled gently at him and took a deep breath. “It happened in Colorado, about fifteen months ago. It was something stupid I did with a horse.” The memory was blurred now, but she would always remember the gray stallion … Gray Devil… and the endless moment when she had flown through the air. “I took a chance with a wild stallion. He was a real bitch to ride and he threw me into a ravine.”

  “Why—why did you do it?” His eyes filled again as he watched her. He knew instinctively that she had pushed the horse too hard, and she didn't deny it.

  “I don't know.” She sighed again. “I was crazy, I guess. I think Black Beauty made me think I could handle any stallion I ever came up against and I was upset about something.” She had been depressed about Tate, but she didn't tell him that. “So, that's what happened.”

  “Will you … can they …?” He didn't know how to finish, but she easily understood him and shook her head.

  “No. This is it. I thought you knew though. I figured Caroline would have told you.”

  “She never did.”

  “Maybe she was too wrapped up with Bill. He had just had his first heart attack around that time. I wanted to come out but I was too busy with work, and then—” She faltered but went on. “I was stuck in the hospital for ten months.” She looked around her at the familiar buildings. “I should have come back though afterwards, but I don't know … I think I was afraid to. Afraid to face what I couldn't do anymore, so I never saw her again, Josh”—her lip trembled—“and she was so damn sad after Bill died, and I never helped her.” She closed her eyes and held out her arms and she clung to the old cowboy again.

  “She was all right, Sam. And she went like she wanted to. She didn't want to hang around without him.” Did he know, then? Had they all known? Had the pretense been a farce for all those years? Sam looked into his face and saw that it was no secret. “They was as good as married, Sam.”

  She nodded. “I know. They should have gotten married.”

  He only shrugged. “You can't change old ways.” And then he looked down at her again, his eyes filled with questions. “What about you?” He understood suddenly how unlikely it was that she'd keep the ranch now. “You going to sell this place now?”

  “I don't know.” She looked troubled as they lingered on the porch. “I don't see how I could run it. I think maybe I belong in New York.”

  “You live with your folks now?” He seemed interested in how she managed but she shook her head with a small smile.

  “Hell no. I live alone. I live in the same building as the friends who brought me out here. I had to get a new apartment, one without steps. But I can take care of myself.”

  “That's terrific, Sam.” There was only a faint hint that he was talking to a cripple, but she knew he'd still have to make the adjustment. In some ways she still did too, so she didn't hold it against him. And then what he said next shocked her. “Why couldn't you do that out here? Hell, we'd all help you. And shit, there's no reason why you can't ride. As long as you ride careful now.” He almost glared at her as he said it, and then he smiled.

  “I don't know, Josh. I've been thinking about it, but it's all pretty scary. That was why I came out here. I didn't want to make the decision to sell till I came out here again to see for myself.”

  “I'm glad you did. And you know”—he narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin, staring at the darkening horizon—“I think we got an old saddle in there I can fix up for you just fine. And I'll tell you one thing.” He turned back to glare at her. “You ain't riding Black Beauty, if I have to kick your ass to keep you off him!”

  “Try and stop me!” She was laughing now, it was almost like the old days, but he wasn't kidding around.

  “It'll be my pleasure. I'd like to know who was the fool who let you ride that other stallion.”

  “Someone who saw me ride.”

  “Damn show-off.” It was the kind of thing Tate would have said and her eyes grew serious again as she looked at Josh.

 
; “Josh?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you ever hear any more about Tate Jordan?” It had been more than a year and a half since he left, but Josh just shook his head.

  “Nope. Just another cowboy. Drifted off God knows where. He would have made you a good foreman though, Sam.” Not to mention a good husband, but Sam didn't say what was in her heart.

  “How's the new man?”

  “All right. But he's leaving. He's already had an offer. He told the lawyer that yesterday morning. He don't want to take no chances that you might sell the ranch and he might lose his job, so he's movin' on while he can. He's got a bunch of kids,” Josh said by way of explanation and Sam watched him thoughtfully.

  “What about you, Josh? You staying?”

  “Hell yes. This has been my home for too many years for me to go anywhere. You're going to have to sell me with the ranch.”

  “Tell you what, if I don't, how would you like to be foreman?”

  “You kidding, Sam?” His eyes lit up with interest. “I'd sure as hell like that, and my wife would be so full of herself she'd make us all sick. But I could live with that.” They grinned at each other and he stuck out a rough hand, which she shook.

  “Sam?” Charlie peeked out the screen door then, he had heard her talking and wondered who it was. She wheeled quickly in her wheelchair, made the introductions, and they talked for a few minutes about the ranch.

  And then finally Josh looked down at her again. He had forgotten her for a minute in the conversation that went on above her head. “How long you staying, Sam?”

  “Just till Sunday. We have to get back. Charlie and I work together in New York. He's an artist.”

  “I am not, I'm a genius.” They all grinned.

  “Can you ride?” He shook his head and Josh smiled broadly. “We'll teach you. And Sam says you brought your kids.”

  “Three of them. My sons.”

  “How many you got in all?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

  “Four. We left a baby girl at home.”

  “Shit,” he guffawed, “that ain't nothin'. I got six.”

  “God save me!” Charlie looked faint and they all laughed.

  Josh came in then to meet Mellie and the boys, and then they all trooped out to the barn to look at the horses, and the boys were so excited that they were jumping up and down in the straw and squealing while the others laughed. Plans were made for the next day to give them lessons, and then Sam stopped for a few moments to look at Black Beauty, sedate and splendid as ever in his stall.

  “He's a fine-looking horse, Sam, ain't he?” Even Josh looked him over with pride, and then he glanced at Sam as though he had just remembered something. “He's yours now, Sam.”

  “No.” She shook her head slowly, looking at Josh. “He'll always be Caro's. But I'll ride him.” This time she smiled, but he didn't.

  “No, you won't.”

  “We can fight about that in the morning.” He looked doubtful but they wandered back to the big house, and he left them on the porch, with a last tender look at Sam. It was then that she realized that it had been a homecoming. That even if the others were gone now, she still had Josh. And she had the beautiful ranch that Caroline had left her, and the memories of what her old friend had shared with Bill, and her own memories of Tate in their cabin—none of that would ever leave her, especially if she stayed right here.

  “Okay now, Sam … we got you.…” Two cowboys made a seat for her and held her while two more held the horse firmly. It wasn't Black Beauty they held between them, and not even Navajo, but a new horse named Pretty Girl. But this time the name didn't annoy her. She was surprised herself at how squeamish she felt and the horse was supposed to be very docile. Suddenly she was glad. They hoisted her into the saddle quickly, and Josh tied a bunch of straps around her, and then she sat there, perched in her saddle, staring down at them in amazement.

  “By God, we did it. Look at that, I'm riding!” She looked like an ecstatic kid.

  “No, you ain't.” Josh grinned at her with obvious pleasure. “You're just sittin'. Get her movin' a little, Sam, and see how it feels.”

  She looked down at him and whispered. “Would you believe it, I'm scared.” She just sat there with a frightened expression alternating with a nervous smile, and after a moment Josh gently took the bridle and began to walk her on the quiet horse.

  “You're okay, Sam. Come on, I'll walk you around the corral.”

  “Josh, I feel like a baby.”

  He looked over his shoulder with a tender smile. “You are. Got to learn to walk, you know, before you can trot.” But a moment later he let go of the bridle and she began to trot slowly, and suddenly Sam's face broke out in a huge grin.

  “Hey, guys, I'm running,” she was shouting, “I'm running … look!” She was so excited, she could hardly stand it. For the first time in over a year, she wasn't moving along in a wheelchair, she was actually running again, and even if it wasn't under her own steam, the exhilaration of trotting along with the wind in her hair was the best feeling she'd known in years. It took Josh an hour to convince her that she'd had enough. And when they helped her down, she was so high, she was almost flying, her eyes were dancing, and her delicate face was framed by wisps of her golden hair.

  “You sure looked good on that horse, Sam.” He smiled gently at her as they set her down in her chair.

  She grinned a grin of confession. “You know, at first I was scared to death.”

  “Stands to reason. You'd have to be crazy not to be after what happened.” And then he looked at her thoughtfully. “How did it feel?”

  “So good, Josh.” She just closed her eyes and grinned. “Like I was a normal person again.” The grin faded as she looked into his wise old eyes. “It's been a long time.”

  “Yeah.” He scratched his chin. “But I keep thinkin', it don't have to be a long time anymore. Sam, you could come back here, and you could get back into ranchin'.…” He had thought about it all night, but now she looked at him pensively, her head cocked to one side.

  “You want to know what I've been thinking?” He nodded. “Charlie and I talked about it in New York, and maybe it's totally crazy. But I wonder if, maybe, I could turn this into a special ranch, for”—she hesitated, not sure how to say it—“people like me. Kids mostly, but some grown-ups. Teach them to ride, help them get back to a normal life. Josh, I can't even begin to tell you what it just felt like. Here, in the chair, I'm different and I always will be. But up on that horse, I'm no different than I used to be. Oh, maybe a little, but I won't be once I get used to riding again. Imagine showing people that, giving them horses to ride, teaching them.…” She didn't notice but there were tears in his eyes and her own as she spoke. He was nodding slowly, glancing around at the buildings.

  “We'd have to make some changes, but we could do it.…”

  “Would you help me?”

  He nodded slowly. “I don't know much about… about…” He tried to be tactful, he had been about to say cripples. “About people like that, but hell, I know horses, and I could teach a blind man to ride if I had to. Had my own kids ridin' by the time they was three.” She knew it was true too, and he had just been as patient and as loving as any therapist she had worked with. “You know, Sam, we could do it. Hell, I'd sure like to try it.”

  “So would I. But I have to think it over. It would take some money, and I'd have to have therapists and nurses and doctors, people would have to be willing to trust me with their children, and why should they?” But she was talking more to herself than to Josh, and a moment later Charlie and Mellie interrupted them to ask Josh more questions about the ranch.

  Sunday morning came too quickly, and they all looked regretful as they said good-bye. Josh was almost heartbroken as he took Sam's hand before they left for the airport and squeezed it with a thousand questions written on his face. “Well? You goin' to keep it?” If not, he knew that he might never see her again. And he couldn't let that happen. He wanted to help
her to find herself, and to build the ranch for special kids. He had sensed in the past few days how lonely and hurt she was.

  “I don't know yet, Josh.” She answered him honestly. “I have to do some research, and to think it over. I promise I'll let you know as soon as I make up my mind.”

  “How soon do you think that will be?”

  “Has another job come up for you?” She looked worried.

  “If I said yes,” he said, grinning softly, “would that make you jealous enough to keep it?”

  She laughed in answer. “You're a sly one.”

  His face sobered. “I just don't want to see you give up this ranch.”

  “I don't want to either, Josh. But I just don't know enough about ranching to make it worth it. The only thing that makes sense is if we do what we said.”

  “Well, why don't we?”

  “Give me a chance to think it over.”

  “You do that.” And then he leaned down and gave her a bear hug and turned to say good-bye to Charlie and Melinda and the three boys.

  They waved good-bye to him for as long as they could see him, and in comparison to the trip out, it was a very quiet trip back. The boys were exhausted and disappointed that they were going back to New York. Charlie and Mellie alternated sleeping on part of the trip, and Sam was pensive all the way to New York. She had a lot to think about, about whether she herself could make it, about whether selling the livestock on the ranch would give her enough money to make the improvements, about whether or not it was what she wanted. Was she really ready to leave the safety of her life in New York? She had been so engrossed in the makings of her decision that all the way home she had barely thought of Tate.

  She left Charlie and Mellie in the lobby of their building and disappeared into her apartment to make some notes, and she still looked preoccupied the next morning at the office when Charlie knocked on her door.