by Naomi Niles
I could smell the rain even before the storm made its appearance. The horses knew, too, and they were skittish and wanting to get back into their trailers where it would be dry and there’s be plenty of oats to eat. I was getting ready for my turn, watching as they brought Chaos in from the holding pens. His eyes were wide as a bolt of lightning raked across the sky. It took two handlers to hold him down.
I was a bit agitated by the storm myself for some unknown reason. It was as if I was being watched by a force unknown. Nevertheless, I pulled on my gloves and climbed up above the horse, ready to descend, but he was wild-eyed. This was uncharacteristic for him and I began to wonder whether he’d been injected with something to make him crazed. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d heard of something like that.
Thunder deafened the entire audience as the lightning struck in the center of the arena. Chaos leaped straight up in the air just as I was settling down upon him and had grabbed the leather. He was hell unleashed and the handlers couldn’t calm him. They hollered at me to get off him, to let him out and run himself calm but I shook my head. I’d lost so much face already over not riding the bulls, I couldn’t back down further. I shook my head vehemently and hollered, “Open it!” They looked at one another and shrugged; it was my call.
We exploded when the gate opened. I gripped the reins hard and held the horn, my legs and all those newly re-generated muscles clamped as tightly as I could. I felt my body slam into sections, waist ahead and then behind my torso. I felt like a deck of shuffled cards.
Chaos was literally screaming as his eyes, crazed in fear, looked for a way to unseat me. A funnel of wind formed on the arena floor and circled toward us, picking up sand and pebbles and I could hear the crowd screaming as they pointed toward the phenomenon. I kept my seat until the wind hit us; literally picking Chaos up into the air and dropping us down into the ring. I was trapped beneath his flailing body as he screamed. They were trying to pull him off me, but his hooves thrashed blindly through the air in pain. Eventually they threw me a rope and I held on for dear life as they dragged me from beneath him while he rolled away momentarily. It was clear that both his legs were broken. I had nothing more to fear from him. They helped me to my feet and I staggered toward the chute gate. Another bolt of lightning slapped the arena and I looked upward as the funnel lifted and rain bit my face. There, in the flash of light, stood a woman in a white dress and with silvery, whipping hair, looking like the goddess of lightning herself. She was standing in the first row of the stands and her expression was of terror as she looked at me. There stood my Silver. I heard a snap behind me and turned to see they had shot Chaos and were trying to cover him with a tarp until they could get a vehicle in to lift him out of the arena. His screams were silent then and all that remained was the awed vacuum of spectators, standing in the driving rain.
I looked around again, and she was gone.
* * *
I searched the stands for her throughout the rest of the event. There was no sign and I began to wonder whether she’d been real. I knew she was, though. I’d felt her presence even before we’d left the chute. Eventually the event was over and the crowds filtered off to go home. I stood by the gates and watched every single person leave; she was not among them.
In the meantime, I went into the event manager’s office and lodged an inquiry over what had happened with Chaos.
“He was spurred or high, I don’t know which. You need to order an autopsy.”
This was met with laughter. “Like who’s going to do something about it?” George guffawed.
“Damnit, it’s ruining the industry! How many of those kids out there are going to have nightmares tonight from watching that horse shot. You need to build some integrity or we’ll all go down with the boat!”
“Calm down, Blake. Just because you’ve had some hard times is no reason to take a shot at us!”
“Damnit, are you really so stupid as to think this is about me? It’s about the sport, the industry, the owners, and the corruption.”
George’s eyes narrowed. “I’d be careful who I said that around, Blake.”
“To hell with you all!” I hollered and left the trailer. It had been a really shitty night and it could have been so different … so different …
Chapter 17
Meli
I staggered into the house and could feel such utter sorrow in my heart. He had been there, he was worn out and he wasn’t even on a bull. It was all true. He’d lost his nerve. He was no longer the Blake Temple I’d known and fallen in love with.
Marie was waiting for me.
“The boys, they are asleep,” she said. “They played in the sandbox until it rained and then they played in the mud,” she laughed. “It took me an hour in the tub to get them clean again.”
“Thank you for watching Kirk, Marie. I had to go.”
She put down the knitting in her lap. “I know this,” she said. “Come, sit down and let’s talk about it.”
Marie had become my best friend in the world. I felt closer to Marie than I ever had to Jill. I had paid off Marie’s house so we lived there practically free; only the taxes and utilities had to be paid. Marie gardened so we ate very well and the boys played in the hot sunshine all day and slept soundly at night. It was an idyllic way to raise Kirk and since neither boy had a father figure, neither one missed it.
Marie had been attacked on a dark back road one night and when she had realized she was pregnant, she had decided that she should keep and raise the child. She was a preservationist of life and I had to admire and agree with her views.
Marie did not, naturally, know about the house in Baton Rouge, but she asked no questions so it was easier to stay here, close to the café and where I had backup care for Kirk.
The house in Baton Rouge had been a revelation indeed. Situated on over 200 acres, the building was more of a plantation than a simple house. In a Tara-like style, it featured Grecian columns and a broad porch that protected floor to ceiling windows. There were ten bedrooms and baths, a formal dining room, a mammoth kitchen with state of the art appliances, a bowling alley in the basement, a nursery, a library, and even servant’s quarters. I don’t know what possessed Maudie to buy such a place; maybe simply because she could. The café had evidently been far more successful than anyone realized. She’d never displayed her wealth and had invested wisely. I hoped she had been able to get some enjoyment from the place. Eventually, I planned to sell the café and move here with Kirk when it was time for him to go to school. It would be a better school system, shopping, and the amenities were far closer and it would have a more cosmopolitan atmosphere for a growing child. But for now, we would stay put at Marie’s and I would tend to the café and continue to write my blogs. I wanted life to stay as normal as possible for Kirk.
I had been tracking Blake since Thanksgiving. I knew he’d been hurt and that he’d had a long recovery. That had prompted my short message to him; it was all I could do without getting my heart involved.
Then had come the news that there was to be an event in Baton Rouge. I thought it to almost be an omen and couldn’t ignore it. I had asked Marie to watch Kirk and although she had no idea why, she asked no questions.
I drove down the night before and went through the house, getting familiar with what I’d have to do to keep it shut up but in good condition until I was ready to move into it. Then came the time for the rodeo and I’d taken a high seat where I wouldn’t be noticed. I was still wearing the dress from my afternoon meetings, but didn’t have time to go back to the farm and change.
I had looked for him during the bull events, but he hadn’t shown and I began to get very sad because I thought I’d missed him entirely. Then had come the broncos, on the advent of that storm and just like a human bolt of lightning, there he was. I thought what it had felt like to see him again after so long.
The black hair that always fell over his eyes was unchanged, except that maybe it was a bit longer. His legs looked lean and str
ong, despite the horrible injuries he had sustained. He appeared to be totally recovered and I wondered why, if that was true, he wasn’t on a bull. I was pretty sure I knew, but that hurt to think about, too, because I wanted to help him overcome that anxiety of the bulls. I think I could have done it—I’d just made that tactical error of falling in love with him.
I looked at Kirk now and realized how much he looked like his father. There was an inner core of guilt that I was keeping a child from his father, and even vice versa. I was afraid, however, that Blake was on hard times, mentally speaking, and linking up with us would do nothing to enhance his career.
I had seen the woman with the black hair standing at the rail. She was screaming his name and even though he didn’t acknowledge her, I just knew they’d been together. The woman called out endearments and references to “the last time we were together” in full hearing of half the viewing stands. I couldn’t imagine Blake having fallen that far, but then he’d been in hard times all the way around and it wasn’t fair of me to judge. I hardly had been an angel.
A few men had asked me out at the café, but I turned each of them down with weak excuses and pretty soon I’d run through all the eligible men in town. It was important to me, however, that when I turned them down, they remained my friend. In some cases, they had even assumed the role of champion, protecting me from strangers who might wander in. The sheriff’s deputy, Lance Turner, in particular hung around the café late at night as I was washing the dishes and closing down. He sat in the booth nearest the door, drinking coffee and when I was ready to lock up, he waited and walked me to my car. I had a good idea he was sweet on me but had witnessed too many rejections of others to hold out hope. Instead, he had appointed himself my guardian and I was truly appreciative.
One nice thing about a small town like that: people didn’t question you why an unwed mother had shown up in the dead of the night. I knew there were rumors. I’d heard some people thought I was on the run from the law and that Kirk belonged to a bank robber. Another rumor was that my daddy had ordered me to marry someone I didn’t love and that I’d gotten pregnant to avoid it and he’d thrown me out. Yet another popular one was that I was some celebrity from New York City who had gotten mixed up in drugs and escaped to the south where no one would know me or ask questions. None of the scenarios bothered me particularly; they kept me from telling the truth. Bull riders never entered their mind, thank God.
Marie was talking and my attention was snapped back to the present. “I’m sorry, my mind was wandering.”
“Yes, I know. He is handsome, the man you went to see from afar.”
I jerked around to look at her. “How did you know?”
“There is a look of love and loss on your face. You are too good of a woman to have been loose. The father of Kirk was a good man, perhaps too good for you, you believe. Mon Cherie … that is not true. You are one of the best women I’ve ever had the pleasure to know and that man would be proud to have you at his side. The boy deserves to know his father, you know. He will grow up eventually. You cannot hide him forever.”
“I suppose you’re right, but for right now, well, it’s just too complicated.”
“I understand. But if the man loves you, it is his decision whether you deserve to be in his life. I think you value him more than yourself and this is wrong. It is not healthy; not for you and not for the boy.”
I hadn’t ever taken that perspective before. She was right, though. I was, in a certain respect, teaching Kirk to have low self-esteem. And she was right that one day he would want to know about his father and the truth would come out. If not from me, I knew Jill would spill the beans. She had always been jealously mean.
I realized then that I hadn’t spoken to Jill in almost two years! She must be worried to death! I resolved to fix that immediately.
“Marie, I have a call to make.”
“Yes, you should,” was all she would say and I went outdoors and sat on the porch. I dialed Jill’s number, careful to block my own before I called.
“Hello?”
“Jill?”
“Meli? Meli, is that you?” She sounded happy and a little peeved at the same time, not that I could blame her.
“Yes, it’s me. I know I haven’t called and I’m sorry. A lot has happened and I’m not at liberty to talk about it all. It kind of got past me … the time, that is.”
“Yeah, I could have died and you’d never known,” she pointed out and I suddenly felt very selfish and guilty.
“How are you?” I asked and I meant it very sincerely.
“About the same. Living in the same place. That cowboy still looking for you?”
“I don’t know, was he?”
“Hell yeah. He came over here and bugged the shit out of me about you.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothin’ he didn’t already suspect. He wants to find you. I still hear from here at least once a month.”
“Really? What does he say?”
“That he wants to find you. What did you do to him? Steal his mother’s wedding ring or something?”
“Only you would think of something like that. No, nothing like that.”
“It’s that old stigma thing, isn’t it?”
I was silent a few moments and then quietly answered, “Yeah.”
“I thought so. You got to quit thinking you’re dirt because of Ma. She was trash, no question about that. But it doesn’t mean you or I am. Okay, so maybe I am, but not you. You’ve always been a straight arrow. You wear Ma’s guilt around like a big, black coat, letting it hide who you really are. You think that cowboy is too good for you? Is that what you’re thinking?”
“I didn’t call to talk about Blake. I want to know that you’re okay.”
“I could be better if you’d talk to him. He said he’d pay me five grand to find you, you know. I could use the money.”
“So, you’d sell out your sister?”
“Sure! Wouldn’t you?”
I knew this was an area where we seriously differed. “I suppose you need money?”
“I always need money.”
“I’ll send you some, but don’t buy drugs with it, hear? I want you to use it to find a better place to live than that dump where you’ve been staying.”
“So there are strings coming with the money?”
“You could say that. Listen, I gotta go,” I said. I could hear Marie talking to the boys and knew it would be a matter of seconds before Kirk burst onto the porch and into my lap, and if Jill heard his voice, the game would be over.”
“Call me again, Meli, you hear? Call me Sunday night. I’ll make sure and be here.”
“Sunday night … okay. I’ll send you some money. Bye, Jill.”
That next day I sent Jill a money order for five thousand dollars. I thought of it as hush money to keep her from telling Blake where I was and whatever else she could make up about me. I knew my sister well enough to realize that when there was money involved, she had no self-control whatsoever. I could have naturally sent her far more money but that would have engendered speculation on her part as to how I’d gotten it and the idea that if I sent her x-number of dollars, I was rich enough to send far more. This, at least, quelled my conscience for the time being.
I went back inside. “Everything okay?” Marie asked. I nodded. “What would I do without you?” I smiled and sipped the coffee she handed me.
The topic changed to the quilt she was making out of dresses she’d picked up at the church rummage sale. She always went in at the last minute when they were trying to get rid of things for practically nothing so they didn’t have to haul them home. She’d come away with armloads of cotton housedresses and washed each one and hung it in the sun to dry. She’d pick out the seams with a seam ripper and painstakingly remove buttons, zippers and then iron the pieces flat. She’d cut these into squares and piece together a quilt top. I thought Marie was the thriftiest person I’d ever known and knew if there were eve
r to come another depression, I’d like to spend it at Marie’s house.
“I have an idea,” I told Marie. “What would you say to our going into Baton Rouge tomorrow and let’s buy the boys clothes. It will be my treat.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun, Marie said. “But why the special occasion?”
“No special occasion, really. The boys are growing like weeds and it’s about time they had some new clothes. Anyway, I could use a few new things myself and I’m sure you could, as well. Let’s just take a day in the city. What you say?”
“I think it sounds wonderful. What time would you like to leave?
“I thought we get up about eight in the morning and head to town. I’ll call Abby and ask her to open the restaurant and we’ll be back in time that I can do dinner. Sound like a good plan?”
“Sounds like a wonderful plan. I will look forward to it very much. If that’s what we’re going to do, we better get to bed early tonight. Do you think you’re going to be able to sleep tonight?
“Why wouldn’t I?
“I think it’s pretty obvious you have had a bad day today.”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried. I just want you to be happy.”
* * *
We were up early the next morning and in the car, headed for Baton Rouge. Marie was quite excited and I realized it had been a long time since she’d had a holiday. We hit all the best department stores and I bought bags of clothes for the boys, including some they would grow into.
Marie and I treated ourselves to some dresses and I realized I hadn’t worn stockings in over three years. I wasn’t even sure I had shoes that would work, so we stopped and bought those as well.
Lunch was in a stylish café that served everything from seafood to burgers and chicken nuggets for the boys. We topped off the lunch with ice cream sundaes and then took pictures of one another with our cell phones at the edge of a fountain. We stopped one last time and let the kids run wild in a toy store, picking out three items each. If they could have counted to four, they’d have gotten four items. This, at least, gave them something to work for!
