THAT SAME AFTERNOON, Ram and Wyatt sat on the front porch of the big house, waiting for the teens and their parents. Without being told, Ram knew full well that Wyatt wanted to greet Gabby the moment she arrived. Likewise, Wyatt understood that his father’s infamous curiosity was killing him, and nothing short of a natural disaster could keep the old man from seeing what would happen.
Looks like I’ll be eating humble pie, Wyatt thought. Truth is, I deserve it.
Wyatt felt terrible about what had happened. When Gabby fell from Caesar, he had immediately feared that she was dead. A terrifying host of emotions had run through him, much like those he had felt on learning Krista’s fate. It was a gut-wrenching kind of dread that he never wanted to suffer again, and it had shaken him to his very core.
It didn’t take a wizard to realize that Gabby was angry. Given the chance, he would do his best to apologize again and set things straight, but he feared it wouldn’t work. He also worried that Gabby might become unduly concerned about Trevor’s safety and pull him from the program. If she did, he would be powerless to stop it.
Ram leaned back in his rocker. “Did they find Caesar?” he asked.
Wyatt nodded. “Yeah, but it took some doing. He’s okay. Must have reared up just in time.”
“Good,” Ram said. “By the way, is Gabby still missing in action?”
Wyatt nodded.
“Bad sign…,” Ram said.
“I know,” Wyatt answered.
Ram sighed. “Women are a lot like horses, Wyatt,” he said. “It takes a long time to earn their trust, but only a moment to wreck it. And once it’s wrecked, it’s not easily mended. Your mother was like that, God rest her soul.”
When the cars started arriving, Wyatt watched anxiously. Soon Gabby’s battered Honda turned off the highway and started up the drive. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, at least they’ve come back,” Wyatt said. “Looks like it’s time to face the music.”
Ram pursed his lips. “Yep,” he said.
“Any advice?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah. With women, go slow and don’t expect miracles.”
They watched Trevor get out of the car. When Wyatt saw the unfamiliar driver, he stiffened.
“Uh-oh,” Ram said softly. “That’s a bad sign. You don’t need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows on this deal.”
“Maybe Gabby can’t drive because of her hand,” Wyatt said hopefully.
“Yeah, but I’d bet the ranch that isn’t all of it.”
When they reached the porch, Wyatt went to greet them. The redheaded woman regarded Wyatt politely.
“Mr. Blaine?” she asked.
“Please call me Wyatt,” he said.
“My name’s Celia Ward,” she said. “I’m a friend of Gabby’s, and I’ll be bringing Trevor to the ranch for the remainder of the program.”
Wyatt tried to hide his shock and disappointment, but it remained clear that Celia’s words had hit him hard. He knew full well that Gabby was angry, but he hadn’t expected such a final pronouncement.
“A pleasure to meet you,” he said, trying to remain cheerful. He turned and looked at Trevor. “How’s your mom?” he asked.
“She’s okay, I guess,” he said. “But her hand still hurts, and she’s been kind of cranky.”
Wyatt nodded. “You’d better get inside, Trevor. Your therapy session starts in ten minutes.”
As Trevor entered the house, Ram left his chair and sauntered over. He tipped his hat at Celia.
“I’m Ram Blaine,” he said. “Glad to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Celia answered. “Gabby’s told me all about you.”
“And you decided to come out here anyway?” Ram asked, giving her a wink.
Celia smiled. “I did,” she answered.
“Could we talk a bit?” Wyatt asked her.
“Sure,” Celia answered.
“Use my office,” Ram said to Wyatt.
As Wyatt escorted Celia through the mansion, she looked around with awe. When they reached Ram’s office, Wyatt motioned Celia toward one of the guest chairs, and he sat down behind Ram’s desk.
Celia looked around admiringly. “Such a beautiful room,” she said.
“Thanks,” Wyatt answered. “So tell me, how do you know Gabby?”
“I’m Roy Marshall’s assistant,” Celia answered. “Gabby and I have become close—especially lately, what with all of Trevor’s shenanigans. Until he started New Beginnings, he spent more time in Roy’s office than he did in class.”
“And how is Roy?” Wyatt asked. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”
“Roy is Roy,” she answered. “He never changes.”
“True,” Wyatt said.
“You and I met once before,” Celia said, “but I’m not surprised that you don’t remember.”
“Really? When was that?”
“Shortly after Danny died,” Celia said respectfully. “You visited the office to remove him from the rolls.”
“Ah, yes.”
Silence soon overtook the room as Wyatt considered his next question. No fool, Celia had a good idea what it would be about. As she waited, she better understood Gabby’s attraction to him. Damn, he’s good looking, she thought.
Wyatt cleared his throat. “And how is Gabby?” he finally asked.
“She’ll be okay,” Celia answered. “She was shaken up, but she’s a tough cookie.”
Wyatt nodded. “May I ask you a personal question?”
“You can ask…,” Celia said.
“She’s still too upset to see me, isn’t she?” he asked. “I realize that she probably can’t drive, but she could have come along today anyway.”
And there it is, Gabbs, Celia thought. Just how do I answer that one?
Celia sighed and slid her chair closer. “I don’t want to tell any tales out of school,” she said, “no pun intended. Gabby’s my best friend and I won’t violate her trust. But she’s way past mere anger. I saw that this morning when she asked me to bring Trevor here for the duration of the program. She’s truly upset—more so than I’ve ever seen her.”
“Are things salvageable?” Wyatt asked.
“Maybe, but it would take one helluva gesture. I sure wouldn’t count on her ever coming back.”
“Thanks,” Wyatt said. “I’m sorry if I put you on the spot. It’s just that—”
“I know,” Celia answered.
After thinking for a moment, Wyatt stood. “Seeing as you’ll be spending some time here, would you like the grand tour?”
Relieved that their awkward talk was over, Celia smiled. “I’d love it,” she said.
HALF AN HOUR LATER, Wyatt returned to the porch. Ram was still staring out across the emerald lawns while Butch and Sundance prowled the grounds, diligently searching for something to chase. Wyatt sat down beside his father.
“Where’s Celia?” Ram asked.
“I showed her around then left her in the game room with the others,” Wyatt answered.
“So what’s the verdict?” Ram asked.
Wyatt sighed. “Seems I’m guilty as charged.”
“Thought so…,” Ram said. “Any chance for an appeal?”
“Maybe,” Wyatt answered. “But it’s going to take a great closing argument. I’m not sure I’m lawyer enough to do the job.”
Ram nodded. “Well, one thing’s for sure,” he said. “Unlike before, this time the mountain won’t be coming to Mohammed.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
HOW ARE THEY doing?” Ram asked Wyatt later that afternoon.
Wyatt looked over at his father. “Not too badly,” he answered. “But they’re still new at it. You know what they’re like at this stage.”
“Yep,” Ram answered. “They all want to run before they can walk. And if I remember right, you were the same way.”
Ram and Wyatt were standing in the larger Flying B riding ring. Six teens, including Trevor, sat in a line on their horses, waiting. Three
blue, fifty-five-gallon plastic drums had been arranged on the ring floor in a precise clover-leaf pattern. Just then everyone heard a sharp rebel yell, and Mercy rode into the ring. As she did, Wyatt started his stopwatch.
Although Wyatt still had issues with Mercy, he had to admit that she was the best barrel racer he had ever seen. With Krista’s blessing, Mercy had always overseen this part of the equestrian training. After some soul searching, Wyatt had countermanded the harsh order he had given Mercy about staying clear of Trevor. Although Trevor had been selected for this training, he told her, she would still be running this show. He also said that if she knew what was best for her, she wouldn’t treat Trevor any differently from the others.
Wyatt and Ram watched Mercy’s horse charge headlong toward the first barrel. Approaching it properly was critical. The rider had to control the horse’s speed perfectly as they entered the “pocket,” the area in which the horse could make its fastest turn. Just as important, performing the first turn well was crucial to properly setting up the two more that would follow.
As her horse entered the pocket, Mercy’s form was perfect. Sitting deeply in her saddle, she held onto the pommel to steady herself, her other hand using the reins to guide her horse quickly around the barrel. Mercy’s inside leg was wrapped tightly against her horse’s ribs, to provide her mount with a steady focal point for the turn.
Dirt flying from her hooves, the horse raced off toward the next barrel. After completing two more barrel turns, Mercy charged her back out the way she had come in, and Wyatt stopped his watch. From start to finish it had taken only sixteen seconds, a good time for any barrel racer.
Mercy walked her panting mount back into the ring then turned to face the group of waiting teens. After removing her hat and letting it hang down her back, she leaned down onto her saddle pommel.
“Because you’re here for only a short time, you won’t be making turns that fast,” she cautioned them. “Just the same, like anything else, you’ve got to do it right before you can do it fast. Because you’ve all done this well at a walking pace, today we’ll start trotting. Only after you’ve mastered this phase will you be allowed to gallop. And remember—we succeed only as a group. Nobody moves on to the galloping phase until everyone gets this part right. Also remember that, like you all, your horses are also being trained in barrel racing for the first time. That’s another part of the process—learning something together. Now let’s get at it. Trevor, you’re first up.”
Just as Mercy had taught him, Trevor trotted his mare out of the ring and into the yard outside. Then he trotted back in and made for the first barrel. At about ten feet away he slowed his horse to a stop and then backed her up a bit, to remind her of where the turn would begin. He then prompted her again and trotted her around the barrel.
When he had cleared the first barrel, he promptly started trotting her toward the second one. This stop-and-start procedure was to be the same at all three. But this time, after stopping his mare and then starting her again, Trevor’s eagerness got the better of him. He spurred her on too fast and drove her too close to the second barrel, knocking it over.
Mercy was about to shout at him gleefully before remembering her promise to Wyatt. Instead, she bit her tongue and trotted her gelding over. Trevor was already off his mare, cursing to himself as he set the barrel upright.
“Do you know what you did wrong?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Trevor answered angrily. “I hurried her.”
“And how will you do it differently next time?” Mercy asked.
“Keep the speed the same as we enter each pocket,” he answered. “But it’s so hard! Keep the speed even, grab the saddle pommel, keep my inside leg tight, steer the horse…Jesus, how’d you get so good at this? I’ll never get it!”
“With an attitude like that, you’re right,” Mercy answered. “Okay, you can get back in line.”
After Trevor and Mercy had ridden back, Mercy looked at Tina. “You’re next,” she said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Like Trevor, Tina trotted her horse outside and then wheeled him around. After taking a deep breath she trotted back inside then made straight for the first barrel. But unlike Trevor, she negotiated each of the barrels almost perfectly before leaving the ring. As she trotted back in, a huge smile spread across her face.
“Well done!” Mercy shouted, barely hiding her joy that a girl had just bested one of the boys. “Okay, John, now let’s see how you go!”
As John started riding out of the ring, Ram turned to again look at Wyatt.
“Looks like James Dean’s got some practicing to do,” he said dryly. “That’s all right. It builds character.”
Wyatt smiled. “That’s true,” he answered. Then he sighed and shook his head.
But I wish that Gabby were here, just the same…
TWENTY-NINE
TWO DAYS LATER Gabby sat at her homeroom desk, taking roll for her next class. As usual, her blasé tenth-graders slumped, chewed gum, and cast vacant looks at her. It was mid-afternoon, her wrist ached, and she was tired. Celia would soon drive her and Trevor home, and then take Trevor back and forth to the Flying B. Gabby would later share some Chinese takeout with Trevor, take a hot bath, and hopefully get a decent night’s sleep.
Ten minutes into her talk about the battle of Gettysburg, a man opened the door without knocking and brazenly entered the room. To Gabby’s utter amazement, it was Wyatt.
He was casually dressed in a navy polo shirt, tan slacks, and brown tasseled loafers. Without saying a word he found an empty desk about halfway back, and he sat down. After looking him over, several of the girls huddled across one of the aisles and started whispering urgently.
Gabby glared angrily at Wyatt. She simply couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Excuse me?” she asked loudly.
“Why?” Wyatt asked. “Have you done something wrong?”
Gabby stood from her desk and placed her hands on her hips. “That’s not funny!” she answered.
Several of the huddling girls started giggling openly.
“Be quiet, you three!” Gabby ordered. She refocused her glare on Wyatt. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“I’ve come to plead my case,” Wyatt said. “This seemed like the best place to do it.”
Gabby’s eyes narrowed. “How’d you get past security?”
“I’m friends with Principal Marshall, remember?” Wyatt asked in return.
“He knows you’re here?” she demanded.
“That’s right,” Wyatt answered. He rummaged around in his pants pockets and produced a piece of green paper. “He even gave me a permission slip to visit your class. Wanna see it?”
More giggling arrived, louder this time. Gabby glared at the girls with deadly intent, and they quieted.
“No, I don’t want to see it!” she said to Wyatt. “What did you mean by, ‘plead my case’?”
Wyatt looked around the room. “What do your students know about the legal system?” he asked.
“Very little, I imagine,” Gabby answered. “Why?”
“I’ve come to appeal my sentence,” Wyatt said, “and I thought they could serve as the jury.” He stood and looked around at the students. “You see, your teacher hurt her wrist because I insisted on taking her riding, and she fell off her horse. I think that I should be forgiven. All in favor raise your hands.”
Gabby was about to protest when a slew of hands went into the air, most of them female. She scowled at Wyatt.
“Please meet me in the hall, Mr. Blaine,” she said. “Right now.”
Wyatt stood and cast another smile around the room. “She’ll be right back,” he said. “I think.”
Laughter erupted again as he followed Gabby into the hallway. Gabby slammed the door so hard, Wyatt couldn’t believe its glass panel hadn’t shattered.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded. “This isn’t the Flying B! You can’t just barge in here and do whatever you want!
”
“Never know until you try,” Wyatt answered. “Besides, you’ve been avoiding my calls.”
“There’s a good reason for that.”
Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest. “So are you always this excitable around men, or is it just me?” he asked.
“Yes—no—Christ, what has that got to do with anything?”
Wyatt’s expression sobered. “You left me little choice, Gabby,” he said. “I needed to confront you where you couldn’t avoid me. I thought about going to your town house, but I figured that you’d shut the door in my face.”
“At least you got something right,” she answered.
Despite her outward anger, Gabby sensed her affection for him trying to overcome her heart again. “Why’d you make me go on that ride?” she demanded. She seemed so upset that Wyatt thought she might actually stamp her feet. “I told you I was afraid of horses!”
Tears started invading her eyes, and she angrily brushed them away. “Goddamnit, Wyatt, I’m not Krista! And Trevor isn’t Danny! Can’t you see that? All the horse riding in the world isn’t going to change that! You didn’t respect my feelings, and I’ll never forget it! And I’ll never come back to the ranch!”
Gabby saw Wyatt suddenly blanch. He remained quiet for a time, thinking about what she had just said. It was clear that her words had stunned him. For a moment she thought she saw his eyes well up.
“And I’m not Jason,” he answered hoarsely, his voice a near whisper. “I have no need to control you, Gabby—that’s not how I’m built. But you’re right—I shouldn’t have pushed you into it. And of course I understand that you and Trevor could never be substitutes for Krista and Danny, and that you would never want to be. Like I said, I’d hoped that if you went riding, then maybe you’d better understand what Trevor was experiencing. But I must admit that there was another reason…”
“What?” she asked.
“I wanted an excuse to be alone with you,” he answered quietly.
For a millisecond, a little smile crossed her lips. “Then why in hell didn’t you say so?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Wyatt answered. “I know now that I should have. But if I hadn’t intruded in this way today, you might never have known.” After looking at his shoes for a moment, he took a deep breath.
If Wishes Were Horses Page 20
