If Wishes Were Horses

by Robert Barclay

  Fall was here at last. It was a wonderful time of year at the ranch, and Ram always looked forward to it. Cooler weather would soon prevail, and the holidays were just around the corner. From out of nowhere, a memory tugged at his mind. He again consulted his secret calendar to be sure. Yes, there it was. Next Sunday would be Wyatt’s forty-first birthday, and the sixth anniversary of Danny and Krista’s tragic deaths.

  On closing the calendar, Ram turned and opened the shutters. As he gazed out across the perfect lawns and toward the old graveyard that stood near the main barn, his thoughts turned to Gabby and Wyatt.

  They seemed very happy, and Ram was immensely grateful to the fates for bringing them together. They suited each other well, he thought. Ram had liked Gabby from the moment he met her, that tension-filled first day of New Beginnings. He also clearly remembered how hesitant and worried Gabby had first been, but no more. And despite his strained relationship with Trevor, the program had been especially good for the boy in helping him to overcome his difficult past. But most important for Ram, Wyatt seemed positively transformed.

  Ram smiled. Phoebe would have been glad for these things, too, he realized. From his office he could not clearly distinguish her gravestone among the others, but that didn’t matter. If our departed loved ones truly did look down on us from the afterlife, Phoebe would surely be smiling.

  A knock came on the door, causing Ram to turn in his chair. “Who is it?” he called out.

  “Trevor.”

  “Come on in.”

  Trevor opened the office door and stepped into the room for the first time. After looking around, he closed the door then walked nearer. As usual when visiting the ranch, he was dressed in his Western-style clothes. Just as Ram had taught him that first day of New Beginnings, he respectfully held his Stetson in his hands.

  Ram did his best to smile. “Wyatt got you here fast,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Trevor answered. “He came out early. He’s always in a hurry to see my mom. Is my coming to your office okay? Wyatt said that I could.”

  “Sure,” Ram said.

  Ram sensed that Trevor had something important to say, and that he was having trouble finding the words. He motioned for the young man to sit in one of the upholstered guest chairs. Trevor sat down and respectfully set his hat on the desk.

  “Is something on your mind?” Ram asked.

  Trevor nodded. “It’s about Sadie. We never really talked about it. If it’s okay, I’d like to tell you something.”

  “Go ahead, son,” Ram said quietly.

  Trevor looked down at his hands then back into Ram’s eyes. “I’m sorry that I shouted at you that night. I was just so mad…It’s too bad that we lost Sadie that way. But I wanted you to know that I’m not angry with you anymore. Maybe it was just fate, I don’t know. But I’m sure of one thing.”

  “And what is that?” Ram asked.

  “If it was her time to die, then I’m glad she was with you when it happened,” Trevor said. “I was the one who put her out of her misery, but she knew that you were there. That’s what mattered most.”

  Ram swallowed hard. “Thank you,” he said softly.

  “There’s something else,” Trevor said.

  “Yes?” Ram asked.

  “Despite what happened, I want to thank you for that day,” Trevor said. “I’ll never forget riding like that. It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  For the first time in weeks, Trevor smiled at Ram. “Anytime that you want to go again, just let me know,” the young man added. “Without the jumping part, that is. After all, somebody’s got to watch you. Might as well be me.”

  Ram stood from his chair. “Come here,” he said.

  Trevor walked behind the desk. To his surprise, Ram put his arms around him and held him close.

  “I want to tell you something, too,” Ram said. As he let Trevor go, he blinked back a tear.

  “What is it?” Trevor asked.

  “I want to apologize again for jumping Sadie like that,” Ram said. “What happened was my fault, and I will carry it with me all the rest of my days. Nothing can be done about that. But hearing that you don’t hold it against me means more than you could ever know.”

  Trevor pursed his lips. “I love you, old man,” he said quietly. “Thank you for always being there for me.”

  “I love you, too,” Ram answered. “Now go and do something more useful than talking to an old buzzard like me! Doc’s stall must need mucking out, or something. If you want to eat Lou’s dinner tonight, you’ll have to earn it. That’s Flying B rule number twelve.”

  Trevor raised an eyebrow. “You just made that one up, didn’t you?”

  “Yep,” Ram answered.

  “I know,” Trevor said. “Your ranch, your rules.”

  Ram fished around in one pocket of his Levi’s and removed the pearl-handled pocketknife. Then he winked knowingly at Trevor.

  “I don’t rightly remember how that knife got into my pocket, but I think it belongs to you,” Ram said. He held it out, and the boy took it.

  “Thank you,” Trevor answered quietly. He picked up his Stetson and headed for the door.

  “Wait a minute,” Ram said.

  When Trevor turned around, he saw a smile spread across the old man’s face.

  “Even my rules were meant to be broken sometimes,” Ram said. “Just this once, you can wear your hat inside the house.”

  Trevor beamed back at Ram. After placing the Stetson on his head, he smiled and flicked its brim with his middle finger like he had been doing it all his life. He then quietly closed the door behind him.

  After reclaiming his chair, Ram again looked out toward the family grave sites. Then his thoughts returned to Phoebe, and another smile crossed his lips.

  Things are finally right again, my love.

  FORTY-FOUR

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Reverend Jacobson again sat waiting before the great stained-glass wall of St. Andrew’s sanctuary. Gabby and Trevor were seated in their usual places, waiting for Wyatt to arrive. To Jacobson’s delight, the church was full.

  Today’s service was proceeding well. The first hymn, the collect of the day, and the first selected Bible reading were finished. As Jacobson watched, one of the church acolytes walked to the pulpit and started reading Luke 18:1–8, the Bible passage that would precede his sermon.

  The acolyte soon finished reading the selected Bible verse, and it became time for the sermon. Jacobson dutifully stood and walked to the pulpit. After adjusting the microphone to his liking, he looked out over his congregation.

  “One day at a Catholic elementary school, a well-meaning nun hung a sign in the lunch line directly above the apples,” Jacobson began in his ragged voice. “As one of the school’s more adventurous students approached the sign, he read: take only one apple! god is watching! The young man did as ordered, taking only one apple. A little way down the line, he and his friends soon spied the cookies.

  “As fast as he could, the young man began piling his tray high with cookies,” Jacobson continued. “While he did, a friend standing beside him became worried. ‘What if you get caught?’ his friend asked. With a smile on his face, the first young man answered: ‘Don’t worry! Take all the cookies you want! Today God’s watching the apples!’”

  While the congregation laughed, Jacobson noted that Wyatt still hadn’t arrived. Since Danny’s and Krista’s deaths, Wyatt hadn’t missed a single service. Although Jacobson found Wyatt’s absence unusual, he could delay his sermon no longer.

  WHILE SHE WAITED, GABBY became increasingly anxious. Before leaving the ranch last night, she and Wyatt had agreed to meet at the church. At first she hoped that Wyatt was simply running late, but that wasn’t like him. Where is he? she wondered. He promised he would be here…this day has so much meaning for the three of us…

  Moments later, she excused herself to the ladies’ room and tried to reach Wyatt by cell phone. He didn’t answer, causing her to wonder all the more. When
she returned to her pew, she began worrying that Wyatt had lost the fortitude needed to take the blessings.

  Of far worse consequence, perhaps his feelings about her had changed. The mere thought of losing him—especially after they had gone through so much to be together—would be more than her heart could bear. Had her happy time with Wyatt been a mere interlude? Perhaps her fairy tale was about to end after all…

  Tears came, and Gabby brushed them away. Trevor pursed his lips and took her hands in his. Cupped in her son’s warm palms, Gabby’s hands suddenly felt wet and cold, like those of some lifeless marble statue that had been left standing out in the rain.

  His sermon finished, Jacobson left the pulpit to go and stand before the glistening white altar. It was time for the confession and absolution. Jacobson raised his hands and closed his eyes.

  “Most merciful God,” everyone recited, “we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry, and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us, that we might delight in your will, and walk in your ways to the glory of your name. Amen.”

  Jacobson again scanned the congregation. In the same way that Wyatt’s silences could be deafening, his mysterious absence was equally imposing. But Jacobson knew that he must now perform the blessings of birthdays and anniversaries, with or without Wyatt. He again raised his hands.

  “Would those wishing to have a birthday, anniversary, or other special day blessed please come forward?” he asked.

  As about two dozen parishioners stood from their pews and started approaching, Jacobson again gazed toward Gabby and Trevor.

  TREVOR LOOKED WORRIEDLY at his mother. “What should we do?” he whispered.

  Gabby took a deep breath. “We will take the blessings, just like we planned,” she said.

  “What about Wyatt?” Trevor asked.

  Gabby shook her head as she brushed away another tear. “I don’t know. Either he couldn’t come, or he has chosen not to come. Whatever happened, we will do this.”

  Gabby and Trevor rose from their pew and started up the aisle. When they reached the altar, they knelt in the growing line of parishioners. After all those wishing to come forward had done so, they bowed their heads. But just as Jacobson was about to start the ritual, a disturbance among the congregation caused Gabby and some of the other worshippers to turn around.

  Two men had entered the church. They were walking up the center aisle and approaching the altar. The men’s cheeks were flushed; their eyes were red and glistening with tears. They walked tiredly but with purpose, as if they had just suffered some great ordeal. As they neared, they searched out Gabby and looked straight into her eyes.

  The two men were Ram and Morgan Blaine.

  Gabby’s heart skipped a beat as she realized that neither Ram nor Morgan was appropriately dressed. Ram was wearing rumpled ranch clothes; Morgan wore a simple polo shirt and jeans. Each of the men looked exhausted, and their faces were unshaven.

  Gabby held her breath as Ram and Morgan approached the altar. Jacobson also looked at them with surprise. While the entire congregation watched, Ram whispered a few words into Jacobson’s ear. His face an unreadable mask, Jacobson only nodded before laying a comforting hand atop Ram’s shoulder. Ram and Morgan finally went to the end of the line of parishioners, where they silently kneeled and bowed their heads.

  Frantic to know what was happening, Gabby nearly broke ranks to confront Ram. But the scene soon calmed, and Jacobson again raised his hands. Fearing the worst, Gabby simply couldn’t hold back her tears any longer and cried silently.

  Starting with Ram, Reverend Jacobson began the blessings by placing one hand on Ram’s bowed head and reciting the necessary words. Then it was Morgan’s turn, followed by the next parishioner in line. While Jacobson blessed one parishioner after another, Gabby trembled.

  “Excuse me, miss,” someone whispered to her. “Is this spot taken?”

  Her eyes filled with tears, Gabby turned to see Wyatt standing behind her.

  Gabby nearly cried out with joy. Wyatt looked as spent as Ram and Morgan; his eyes were also red. Beside herself with relief, Gabby nudged Trevor to one side, allowing Wyatt to kneel beside her. Gabby took Wyatt’s hand and held it tightly, like she would never let go.

  “What…is going on?” she whispered.

  Wyatt gave her a comforting look as he wiped away some of her tears.

  “I’m sorry if we scared you,” he whispered. “Ram decided to tell Morgan about our mother’s lost child, and we ended up talking all night. At the last moment, Ram and Morg decided to come and take the blessings with me. Because we were running late, they insisted on marching in ahead of me while I parked the car. Don’t worry, my love. For the first time in many years, all is as it should be.”

  At long last, Gabby smiled. “Everyone in this church must be watching us,” she whispered.

  “Good,” Wyatt answered with a smile of his own. “It’s my birthday.”

  Jacobson soon approached Wyatt and Gabby, and the kneeling couple lowered their heads. Instead of blessing them individually, the reverend extended his hands and blessed them simultaneously, as a couple. While Wyatt’s hand lay ensconced in hers, Gabby felt the reverend’s gentle touch grace her head.

  As the words of blessing washed down over her, she could scarcely contain her joy.

  FORTY-FIVE

  MANKIND HAS OFTEN enforced a savage dominance over the horse, and for that he should apologize. These magnificent beasts toiled mightily over the centuries to help us tame the wilds, plow and harvest our fields, and transport our possessions, even die in our wars; and sometimes under the cruelest of masters. I am proud to say that I never participated in their abject slavery. Even so, I humbly request forgiveness from every horse that has crossed my path, for they are truly God’s noblest creatures.”

  After closing his journal and returning it to its hiding place, Ram went back to his desk. He smiled, thinking about that passage and how much it meant to him.

  Ram loved the old quote, and he had committed it to memory as a young man. On realizing that it had never been included in his journal, he had decided to finally write it down. Although he realized that he might soon forget it, knowing that it lay safe among those pages granted him a unique kind of comfort.

  Such phrases might sound silly to some, he thought, but not to me. One must be a horseman to understand…

  Ram turned to look through the sliding glass door of his office and across the Flying B’s lawns. Pale moonlight and evening dew had conspired to lend the grass a silvery sheen. It was nearly midnight, but recent events had buoyed him so much that he wasn’t ready for sleep.

  At long last, the final wall separating him from his sons had been torn down. Jacobson had been right. Such walls can be invisible, and far stronger than one might imagine. Last night’s talk with Wyatt and Morgan had been cathartic, but worth the pain. Morgan cried openly when he learned of his lost sibling. Although Wyatt already knew the story, he again became teary eyed. As the three of them talked all night, never before had Ram felt so close to his sons, or they to him.

  Wyatt had never intended to be late for church and worry Gabby, but he had been touched by her concern. When Reverend Jacobson blessed them as a couple, Wyatt realized that Ram must have requested it. For the first time in his life, Wyatt actually appreciated his father’s intrusive nature.

  Following the service, everyone ate brunch at Chez Paul and then went to the ranch. The day had passed happily, ending with another of Aunt Lou’s fried-chicken dinners. The feasting had run late, with Gabby and Trevor staying overnight in two of the big-house guest rooms.

  Ram turned in his chair and gazed about his office. As was his habit, one by one he examined the mementos he had lovingly gathered. There were the many family photographs, his treasu
red gun collection, and his old English paintings. The twin Tiffany desk lamps purchased long ago by his father glowed with multi-colored hues. And mounted against the far wall was surely the most unique prize of all—the piece of truck bed through which Wyatt had shot his infamous bullet hole.

  Such keepsakes were truly comforting. But Ram knew that as his mind slowly slipped away, these treasures would become meaningless to him. And so he cherished this moment for a while longer, quietly reflecting on a life that could still be remembered with a modicum of authority.

  Ram finally straightened his old legs and stood from his chair. As he turned to close the mahogany plantation shutters, he again looked out across the lawn. He would visit the barn before turning in, he decided. After opening the sliding door, he stepped out onto the dew-laden grass then closed the door behind him. Walking purposefully, he soon neared the old family cemetery.

  He stopped for a moment, thinking. Like Wyatt, he was convinced that Phoebe’s lost child had been a girl. He couldn’t say how he knew, he just did. And now that Morgan and Wyatt had been told, he could at last commission a small headstone in her memory. As he looked at Phoebe’s grave, he knew that she would have approved. He then lit a cigarette and walked to the barn.

  When Ram switched on the lights, some of the horses stirred, causing him to smile. Deciding to check on Doc, he turned a corner and headed for the colt’s stall. He found Doc asleep on the deep, yellow straw that Trevor had laid down only hours before. For a time he remembered Sadie, and how much he had loved her. He walked on.

  Mankind has often enforced a savage dominance over the horse, and for that he should apologize. These magnificent beasts toiled mightily over the centuries to help us tame the wilds, plow and harvest our fields, and transport our possessions, even die in our wars; and sometimes under the cruelest of masters. I am proud to say that I never participated in their abject slavery. Even so, I humbly request—