If Wishes Were Horses

by Robert Barclay

  Just then an overpowering stillness blanketed his mind, and he could remember no more of the beloved quotation. He stopped walking, trying to remember, but the words wouldn’t come. As he anxiously looked about himself, he suddenly felt like a stranger, inhabiting an even stranger land. He recognized nothing—not a single stall, nor any horse, nor the way out. He didn’t know where he was or how he had gotten here. And as his bewilderment grew, a paralyzing fear took root in his soul.

  He tried to remember his name, but it was no use. He looked at himself to find that he was dressed oddly, like some cowboy character. Sweat broke out along his brow as he struggled to understand the understandable. As the pieces of the puzzle stubbornly refused to fit together, his terror grew by leaps and bounds.

  His old heart beat faster, and his breath came more hurriedly. He knew only one thing. The walls of this foreboding place were closing in on him, and he had to get out. He desperately searched for an exit, but could find none. His fear mounted; his heart raced like it was about to burst through his chest.

  After tossing away the unwanted cigarette, he started to cry.

  SUDDENLY THE LIGHTS IN Gabby’s bedroom switched on, causing her to stir. As someone pulled the bedcovers off her, she growled sleepily. She looked up to see Aunt Lou standing over her. Lou’s face was pale and twisted with fear.

  “Get up!” Lou screamed. “Get up and come downstairs!”

  Then Lou charged from the room.

  Gabby hurried out of bed and quickly threw on a bathrobe. Just as she was about to run from the room, she sensed an ominous presence. Almost in slow motion she turned and walked toward the bedroom balcony. When she opened the doors, what she saw defied description.

  The main barn was ablaze.

  The huge old structure was heavily engulfed in flames. Fire roared through ragged holes in the roof and burst violently out the windows. Even from the relative safety of the big house, Gabby could feel the searing heat, and smell the dense smoke that was quickly fogging the grounds. Horses screamed, timbers creaked, and glass shattered crazily. For several moments she stood frozen in time, wondering if the world she had so come to love was about to end. Then she suddenly thought of Trevor, and she bolted from the room.

  “Trevor!” she screamed as she ran down the hallway.

  On reaching his room, she barged through the door. To her horror, Trevor was gone. Insane with worry, she ran for the staircase. When she reached the foyer, she saw Wyatt. He was shirtless and urgently shouting into the phone. Lou stood near him, her entire body trembling. Then Gabby saw Trevor, and she cried out in joy. She ran to him and pulled him close.

  His expression desperate, Wyatt slammed the phone down and spun around. Rushing up to Lou, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

  “Where’s Big John?” he screamed.

  “He’s in the barn!” Lou shouted. “He’s the one who woke me and said to get everybody else up! Then he said that he had to try and save as many of the horses as he could! I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen!”

  “What about Mercy?” Wyatt screamed.

  “She went in, too!” Lou shouted back.

  Everyone raced onto the porch, to see that the barn had become a raging inferno. Wyatt guessed that the fire had progressed so far that anyone who went inside might never return. Nor would the fire department he had just summoned reach the Flying B in time. Then the sounds of screaming horses returned, and a small herd of the fear-crazed beasts suddenly charged to safety through what remained of the barn’s front doors.

  His face a pale mask, Wyatt suddenly glared at Aunt Lou.

  “Where’s Ram?” he screamed.

  Lou threw up her hands. “I…I…don’t know!” she shouted. “I tried to find him, but I couldn’t! Then I came and got you!”

  His mind racing, Wyatt turned and again looked at the barn. Suddenly, he knew. When his eyes met Gabby’s, she froze.

  “I have to…,” he said to her. At once he was racing across the grass.

  As she watched Wyatt go, Gabby felt something inside her die.

  WHEN WYATT CHARGED into the barn, he could hardly believe his eyes. Everywhere he looked he saw hell on earth. The two-hundred-year-old structure, with all of its tinder-dry hay stored on the second floor, was being consumed at a rate he would never have dreamed possible.

  The ceiling creaked, smoke roiled, and heat-infused windows burst all around him. Here and there flaming ceiling beams were caving in, literally shaking the ground when they landed. As the intense heat sank into his being, Wyatt suddenly remembered that he was shirtless, and he spat out a single epithet.

  Just then another massive beam fell to the floor, narrowly missing him and exploding in a cacophony of flames, sparks, and thunderous noise. The force of it knocked him to the ground and blocked the way he had come. He dizzily came to his feet, realizing that he would now have to go the long way around in order to reach the stalls. But could he make it alive? And was it really worth it?

  Yes! his oxygen-deprived mind shouted. You’ve got to find Ram!

  Ram would most likely be trying to free the horses, Wyatt realized. Coughing and peering through the lung-choking smoke, he finally managed to reach where the stalls lined either side of the long, sky-lit corridor. But there was no sign of Mercy, Ram, or Big John.

  Most of the horses had been freed, their stall doors hanging open amid all the chaos. But others remained imprisoned, banging their bodies and hooves insanely against the walls of their stalls. His lungs begging for oxygen, Wyatt did his best to start throwing open the rest of the doors.

  Their minds crazed from the fire, many of the horses simply refused to go. Wyatt could have blindfolded them, but there was no time. More often than not he had to scream wildly at them, and strike their haunches to get them moving and out into the alleyway. It was taking too long, he knew, but he kept on trying.

  By now he was burned in several places, his lungs were heaving, and sweat poured freely from his body. When he thought that all the horses had finally been freed, he quickly looked around. As he peered through the smoke, his jaw dropped in terror.

  Great, burning holes were forming in the ceiling and allowing blazing hay to cascade down, dripping fire as it came and turning the corridor floor into one long path of roiling flame. Still searching wildly for his father, Wyatt did his best to peer through the gathering smoke.

  “Ram!” he screamed. “Father, are you here?”

  Maybe they all got out, he desperately hoped. Maybe they went while they still could…

  But just as he decided that was the case, another realization seized him.

  Doc…, he thought. He’s always kept in the birthing stall!

  After quickly finding a rag and dipping it into a half-filled water bucket, Wyatt tied it around his head so as to cover his nose and mouth. Doing his best to avoid the flaming debris, he ran down yet another corridor and started making his way toward where Sadie had delivered Doc. As he clawed his way nearer, he heard the singularly horrific screams of a young horse in terror. Doing his best to peer through the smoke, he finally reached the stall.

  Doc was thrashing about madly in the deep hay, his legs, head, and body bloodied from banging himself against the walls of his fiery prison. Just then a flaming board fell from the ceiling, setting the stall hay on fire. Doc screamed even louder now, as the flames started licking his hooves and lower legs. Throwing open the stall door, Wyatt charged inside.

  Screaming wildly at the colt, Wyatt got behind him and slapped his haunches. Finally Doc bolted from the stall and started charging madly down the only corridor that remained clear. Wyatt had wanted to guide him out, but the strong young horse disappeared into the smoke almost before Wyatt realized it.

  Go, Doc! Wyatt’s oxygen-deprived brain shouted. Run away and live!

  Wyatt frantically looked around. He had saved the horses, but at what cost? He still didn’t know where Ram was, and because of his searching, he had probably sealed his own fate. Trying to
peer through the ever deepening smoke, this time he could find no way out. Even the way that Doc had gone was blocked.

  Just then he heard a menacing creaking from above. He looked up to see another beam loosening from the ceiling, this time coming straight for him. As it came crashing down, all he could do was to desperately try diving out of its way…

  FOR GABBY, LOU, AND Trevor, the passing seconds seemed like hours; the minutes seemed like days. Lou and Trevor stood alongside Gabby, each of them watching a disaster that was horribly unjust, and equally unstoppable. Trevor tried twice to bolt away and follow Wyatt into the barn. It was all Gabby and Lou could do to hold him back.

  Moments later, Gabby saw two figures flee the inferno. But because of all the fire and smoke, she couldn’t tell who they were. To Gabby’s great horror, each of them carried a charred body. Then Gabby recognized the two corpses, and she started to faint.

  As Trevor caught her in his arms, the last thing she heard was the wailing of fire trucks, charging up the Flying B’s private drive.

  FORTY-SIX

  The Flying B Ranch

  Three Years Later

  AS AUNT LOU entered Ram’s office, her joints felt stiffer than in days gone by. Nowadays she hurt in places that had never bothered her before, and her gait was more deliberate. Even so, she adamantly refused to slow down in the performance of her duties. To slow down was to die, she had always believed. And there had already been too much death at the Flying B. Besides, there was still much to do, especially today.

  Like she had done each day for more than forty years, she began cleaning and dusting the office. When she had finished, she sighed, remembering. Today was April first, three years to the day that Ram had issued his secret instructions to her.

  Walking to the library ladder, she rolled it toward a spot nearer the door. After climbing up two steps, she separated a pair of old volumes and slid Ram’s letter from between them.

  As Lou stared at it for a time, her old eyes started tearing. Ram had issued some simple instructions to her, but he had never told her what the envelope contained. Lou turned it over and looked at its backside, remembering. The red wax seal was still intact. Like so many things of Ram’s that carried the symbol of the Flying B, so, too, did that bit of wax.

  With a heavy heart, Lou placed the envelope into a pocket of her apron and left the room.

  SITTING IN ONE OF the rocking chairs on the big-house porch, Gabby looked out toward the Blaine family cemetery. Three headstones had been added since she had first visited the ranch. Because of their relative newness, she could easily discern them from the older ones. Butch and Sundance lounged lazily nearby. Today was Sunday, and Morgan and his family would soon arrive for dinner.

  Wyatt took another sip of bourbon then placed his booted feet on the porch rail. The last three years had been momentous ones, both for him and the ranch. The fire had totally destroyed the Flying B main barn and killed three purebred horses. It would have been far worse had he, Mercy, and Big John not freed so many of them. After some intense legal wrangling by Blaine & Blaine, the ranch’s insurance company had grudgingly reimbursed Wyatt and Morgan for their losses. A new barn had been built, and additional horses had been purchased from various parts of the country and trucked to the ranch.

  Ram’s and Mercy’s funerals were two of the largest ever seen in Boca Raton. It was Wyatt who had carried his father’s lifeless body from the barn that night; Big John had carried Mercy. While finally finding a last-ditch way out of the inferno, Wyatt had seen Ram’s charred body lying on the floor. But only after laying Ram down, on the grass outside, did he realize that his father was dead. He had wept over the body for hours, oblivious to the chaos, the flames, and the manic firemen who had worked so hard to keep the fire from spreading to the guest cottages and the big house.

  Big John had found Mercy, partially pinned beneath a burning ceiling timber. As he carried her out of the barn he thought he heard her whisper “Wyatt.” But to his great sadness, he never really grasped what she was trying to say.

  The services were held at the ranch, with Reverend Jacobson presiding. Afterward, Ram and Mercy were laid to rest in the family cemetery. Because of the tragedy, Wyatt had made the difficult decision to put the New Beginnings Program to rest for good. And rather than return to the law firm, he now ran the ranch in Ram’s stead.

  Taking Gabby’s hand, Wyatt also looked out at the cemetery. Alongside the new headstones now stood a smaller one that was inscribed ANNIE BLAINE. Ram had never told Wyatt about his decision to commission that stone. In the end he hadn’t needed to, for Wyatt had unknowingly fulfilled Ram’s dream on his own. Just then Aunt Lou stepped tentatively onto the porch.

  “Mr. Wyatt?” she asked softly.

  Wyatt and Gabby turned to look at her. It was clear that she was crying. As Lou wiped her tears, Wyatt stood and went to her.

  “Lou…?” he said. “What’s wrong?”

  Lou momentarily closed her old eyes. “I have something for you,” she said quietly. “It’s from Mr. Ram.”

  Confused, Wyatt stood up. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “You surely remember Mr. Ram’s secret journal and calendar?” she asked. “The same ones that I gave you right after the fire?”

  “Of course,” Wyatt answered. “What about them?”

  Lou reached into her apron pocket and produced the envelope. “There was this, too. Mr. Ram showed it to me and told me to wait until today, three years later, to give it you. I don’t know why he decided on three years, though. Maybe he thought that was all the time he had left.”

  Wyatt took the letter from her. It was dated today, and Wyatt’s name was written across its front in Ram’s unmistakable penmanship. “When did Father write this?” Wyatt asked.

  “It was about the time that you started up the New Beginnings Program again,” Lou answered.

  Wyatt touched Lou’s face. “Thank you for remembering,” he said quietly.

  Wondering what the letter held for him, he again looked at the mysterious envelope. “I’d like to be alone with Gabby now,” he added. “When Morgan’s family shows up, we’ll join you and Big John for dinner.”

  Lou nodded gratefully then returned to her work.

  Still surprised by Lou’s revelation, Wyatt slowly reclaimed his chair. He sat there quietly for a time, wondering. Before opening the envelope, he looked over at Gabby. She gave him a comforting smile.

  “Don’t worry, my love,” she said. “I know that it’s unexpected. But I’m also sure that it’s something to be treasured.”

  Wyatt reached into his jeans and produced the pearl-handled pocketknife his father had given him so many years ago. He then slit open the envelope and removed a yellowed sheet of Flying B stationery. Its tightly packed words were handwritten in Ram’s familiar black fountain-pen ink:

  Dear Son,

  As I write this letter, we each have our troubles. Your heart is wounded, and I am losing the one thing that might allow me to help you heal—namely, my mind. Unlike the concerns I bear for you, I have no such worries about Morgan. Morgan is Morgan and he always will be. And so before all that I know and love becomes lost to me, I have decided to pen these words to you. As you read this, I am probably either in the throes of full dementia, or dead. To me, they are one and the same.

  If I have finally lost my mind, I know that you are caring for me. All that I ask in that regard is that you allow me to live out my days on the ranch rather than in some faceless institution that imprisons such madmen as I. If I am gone from this world, do not mourn me, for my life was full. I raised two sons of whom I am very proud, and I enjoyed the love of a fine woman for as long as God would let me keep her. No man can ask for more.

  I can only hope that one day you will find the full measure of happiness that is your due. The lucky few find it in their own way, and in their own time. But I fear that time is slipping away from you faster than you realize. If you find the right woman, grab her up a
nd never let her go. And always remember that despite how much you love the ranch or the law firm, true happiness will never be found there. You will find it only with her, and if she’s the right one, you can lose everything else and still remain whole. As you sadly know, the opposite is untrue.

  And so I will close now, to let you go and lead your life as you see fit. Please remember these words, for they will surely be the last you will ever hear from me. And above all, my son, remember that I loved you.

  As always,

  Your father

  Wyatt’s tears came freely, and he wiped his eyes. He handed the letter to Gabby. As she read it, she also cried. Wyatt folded the letter then replaced it in its envelope.

  “He was a wonderful man,” Gabby said softly.

  “Yes, he was,” Wyatt answered.

  They heard a car horn blowing, and they turned to see Morgan’s Mercedes coming up the drive. A familiar memory tugged at Wyatt. As he savored it, he smiled.

  “Sorry, Morg,” Wyatt said softly. “But as you know, it’s a tradition around here.” Wyatt looked down at Butch and Sundance, giving each dog a nudge. “Hey, boys! Morgan’s here!”

  At once the dogs leaped to their feet and bounded off the porch. No sooner had Morgan parked his car than Butch and Sundance started clawing at its doors. When Morgan exited the car, he glared angrily toward the porch and shook his head.

  Just then Wyatt and Gabby heard the telltale sounds of a galloping horse. Seconds later, Trevor and Doc appeared. Sitting tall in the saddle, Trevor rode Doc well. Before guiding Doc into the new barn, Trevor pulled the young stallion up short and tipped his Stetson to them. Wyatt smiled. The confident way Trevor sat that horse reminded him of his father.

  Pausing in his thoughts, Wyatt reached over to gently touch Gabby’s wedding ring and then his own. Unlike his first ring, this new one bonded him with Gabby rather than separating him from her. Then his thoughts again turned to his late father.