Appaloosa Blues (Sisters of Spirit #8) (2 page)

“And that is nothing we can prove right now, either,” said Jo.

“He is so suspicious. And angry. When we told him you were coming home for awhile, he said it was about time. That Adam had kept you away long enough. He focuses on Adam all day, whether we say anything or not. It’s like walking on eggs. I don’t know how we are going to tell him.”

“I don’t either.”

“How long are you going to stay, Jo?”

“I haven’t decided.”

“Promise me you won’t leave until we tell Gramps, one way or another.”

“Well... I’m not sure I want to make such a promise. What if we can’t get Gramps to accept Johnny?”

“We’ve talked about that. We could both leave, separately, and move to another town. Get married there.”

“That would still give him a heart attack, when one of us, or one of your friends, happens to mention it. We have to try something else, so he gets used to it gradually.” She looked at her sister. Karen wore her brown hair long and falling forward on her face to hide the scars she had gotten as a child.

Jo remembered the incident well, as she had been the one carrying the pan of boiling hot pasta that her little sister had reached up and grabbed, spilling it onto her arm, face, and chest. Their screams had brought their mother into the kitchen.

Karen had just started kindergarden, and the disfiguring scars had required lots of surgery to make most of them go away. She had turned from an outgoing youngster into a shy child, trying to hide her face from her classmates’ cruel comments and people’s reactions of shock when they first met her. She had missed two whole years of school, and would have been a grade behind the others, but Jo told their parents how the kids were teasing Karen. Their mother took them out of school right away and home-schooled both of them during Karen’s recovery, including a year before Karen felt ready to return.

It was at this time that Jo developed her love for math and astronomy. She completed three grades during the two years, and returned to school ahead of her classmates. Jo continued to excel at school, taking college courses in high school and getting her master’s at twenty-three. She always felt younger than everyone in a group, even the few times when she wasn’t.

“Promise you won’t leave. You don’t have a job to go to, do you?” Karen was almost begging, and Jo didn’t want her to feel that way.

“No. No job. I put out applications, but there is not much hiring going on right now.” And although she had worked during her school years to help supplement her scholarship, she was now completely broke. She had used up all her savings and had had to borrow some money from Jennel to pay for the flight home, since her round trip ticket took her back to Virginia.

“I’ll have to look for a job around here,” she added, wondering how a degree in meteorology could be used out here. She had planned to eventually work for a radio or TV station, reporting the weather. But she had learned it might take time to get a job doing that.

“I’ve looked,” Karen said. “There aren’t any good ones. I took a part-time job for this summer. Johnny is talking about going into the military, although Adam says he can work on the ranch. If he does, we’d still live elsewhere. We want a home of our own, even if it is a small apartment.”

A home of her own. It was what Jo wanted, too, and she wouldn’t deny her sister the happiness she deserved. Jo barely knew Johnny, but anyone who could see past the scars and make Karen’s eyes glow when she talked about him, ranked high in Jo’s mind.

The Sisters had been right. It was time she went home and confronted her grandfather and got him to face facts. Somehow.

She looked out at the scenery passing by. Big sky country. Montana claimed the title, but any semi-arid country where the buildings and trees dropped away and you could see from horizon to horizon was big sky. A feeling of relief struck her as it always did, for big sky meant home. Unlimited vistas.

As she had done all her life, she envisioned herself riding beside the car, just not on the road. Her imaginary steed took her down each gully, up each hill, jumping each fence that appeared.

Like many narrow country roads, there was no center line and not much shoulder. When you met another car, both had to slow down and move over. They passed the corner where Grandmother Anna had died. The family had put a small, white, wooden cross there, and replaced it every year. It never failed to remind Jo of Anna, for she had been close to her grandmother.

Then as they climbed up into higher mountain country, Jo thrilled at the sight of the scraggly trees that clung so tenaciously to the rocky volcanic soil. Not beautiful to some people, but to Jo it was home. Home. Her spirit sang within her and she wondered why she had stayed away so long.

Perhaps, now that she was older, she would be able to handle her grandfather. She had blindly believed him when she was little, and stayed loyal to him through high school. It wasn’t until she was in college and got away long enough that she began to understand how controlling he was. Yet each time she had returned for a few days, she had fallen into the same old habits. It was easier to avoid the topic of Adam and his family than to make Gramps angry.

Karen turned the car up the rocky driveway towards the ranch house, which came in sight as they rounded the corner. A two-story farm house, it had endured almost a century of mountain weather.

Jo’s white Appaloosa, Paca, stood by the home pasture fence, her dainty head lifting as the car drew near.

“Did Dad bring Paca in?”

“Yes. As soon as Gramps knew you were coming, he insisted someone bring her in. She was just in the back pasture, anyway, so it wasn’t any problem. Dad just called her name and held up a pan of grain. She ran right up and started eating while he put a halter on her. Do you want to get out here?”

“No. Thanks. These sandals won’t take that ditch.”

“That never stopped you before.”

Jo laughed. “No. But I can wait until I change into my boots.”

Karen pulled up to the house and parked. “It looks like everyone’s gone. Even Mom’s car is missing.”

“That’s okay. Gramps is probably still here.”

She grabbed her few belongings and followed Karen inside.

“Hello?”

“Here’s a note,” Karen said. “Took Gramps in for an ultrasound to check his blood flow. Love you.”

“How has his heart been?” Jo asked.

“Weak. The doctors put in a pacemaker last month.”

“I remember you telling me.”

“They say all his stewing and fussing is not good for him, but he won’t listen to them and try to take it easier.”

“He never did take it easy.”

“He’s starting to. He falls asleep in his chair after lunch and takes a short nap. He didn’t used to do that.” She looked at her sister. “Go ahead and ride, Jo. Everyone expects you to. I’m going to call Johnny while no one is here.”

“Don’t forget to take that ring off.”

“For sure.”

Jo dropped her pack inside her room, yanked some old clothes out of a drawer, changed, kicked off her sandals and pulled on her boots. She grabbed a jacket as she headed out the door, and then ran down to the barn, where she collected some oats in a pan, Paca’s bridle, and a brush. She ran out to the corral and found the little horse waiting for her.

“Could you tell I was in the car?” she asked. Paca nuzzled her, jamming her nose up to Jo’s body to get her scent, then pressed her head against Jo and held it there.

Jo stroked the horse’s neck and behind the ears, then put on the bridle after Paca finished up the oats.

“Want to go?” Jo asked, but Paca was already headed out the gate, and Jo had to hurry to keep up.

A quick brushing, then Jo saddled up. Paca left the barnyard at a dead run.

The Appaloosa tore up the mountain road toward the trails Jo always took, jumping six-inch ditches across the way like they were wide and four feet deep.

Jo gave Paca her head, enjoying the horses’ delight in being out of the pasture and moving again. She let her run for awhile, then pulled her in.

“You’re bound to be out of shape, girl. And so am I. If I stay out too long, my legs will feel it in the morning.”

She stayed on the road until she got to one of her father’s wire gates leading into a mountain pasture. It was late in the afternoon by now, and if she hurried, she could get to her favorite lookout point in time to watch the sun go down. No matter that it was on Adam’s land. That had never stopped her from going, as it was the best spot of all.

She opened the wire gate, let Paca through, then stopped. She’d come out totally unprepared. Except for her jacket tied on behind the saddle, she had no knife, no matches, no gun. She put her hand in her pocket.

She hadn’t even remembered to take her cell phone out of her purse. Still, it wasn’t that far to where she wanted to go. She could even walk home, if she had to. What could go wrong on a beautiful day like today?

She closed the gate, remounted, and rode off down the trail. If she hurried, she could be back while there was still light in the sky.

CHAPTER TWO

Sitting relaxed in the saddle, Jo gave her Appaloosa a free rein as she cantered toward the corner of her father's mountain pasture. She breathed deeply of the fragrant Ponderosa pine, enjoying anew the wide open spaces. She could easily reach the lookout point before sunset.

The viewpoint could only be reached by going through a second gate onto Adam Trahern's land, but Jo had never let that stop her. She had ridden these Oregon mountain trails ever since she was old enough to walk and knew every wire gate within a ten-mile radius. Even the fact that the land belonged to her grandfather's sworn enemy did not make her hesitate.

The Ponderosas opened up ahead of her into a wide clearing. There the narrow trail cut through a patch of stirrup-high brush, as dense as any hedge. In the thickest part of the brush, Jo spotted her father's old Hereford bull, face to face with a younger bull that had to belong to Adam.

They had destroyed a large section of the barbed wire fence and were circling slowly in the wreckage, pausing now and then to snort loudly and paw the ground, throwing scoops of dirt over their massive backs before charging each other.

Jo pulled Paca down to a fast trot as she rode closer. Sounds do not carry well through timber, so Jo had not heard any noise as she approached.

Adam's bull,
she thought, looking angrily at the younger and stronger animal. Probably a descendant of Sir Galahad. He had the size and strength of that line, which was well known in the area. He would surely hurt her father's old bull unless she intervened.

They faced each other with wild eyes, heaving flanks and lowered heads. The two could critically injure each other if allowed to continue. Her father could not afford to lose his breeding bull. She had to separate them.

Why had Adam put his animal into the adjoining pasture? He should have known there would be trouble. Had he done this just to provoke Gramps?

Adam and her grandfather were like two bulls themselves, always circling warily around each other, ready to charge. Jo had attended a college clear across the United States to avoid being caught between the two.

After a brief glance at her, the bulls resumed their battle.  Upset with Adam for creating a situation where there was bound to be a fight, she did not pause to thoroughly check things out. She yelled loudly and waved her arms, then jumped Paca into the patch of dense brush. She was used to handling cattle and knew the bulls would move away from a horse. They plunged sideways, startled at the unexpected intrusion, but went no further.

As her mare bounded through the brush in short little leaps, Jo yelled again. This time, with a toss of their heads, the two combatants raced off into the woods, each going a different direction.

There. That did it. If only it were possible to overcome all her problems that easily
, Jo thought, satisfied.

Then Paca slammed to a stop, stiff-legged, throwing Jo up against the saddle horn. She caught herself by reflex and eased back into the seat, alarmed at Paca's unusual behavior.

The Appaloosa stood ridged, trembling violently.

What was wrong
?

"Come on." She urged Paca ahead by rocking her own body forward and squeezing with her legs, but the mare refused to move.   

A silver flash caught Jo's eye and she glanced down, right into a mass of tangled barbed wire—all that remained of the fence after the bulls' fight. Camouflaged by the stirrup-high brush, the treacherous strands rippled threateningly around Paca's legs, the shimmering coils as deadly as any poisonous snake.

Fighting down the urge to panic, she looked to the other side. Death stared back at her as several swaying loops surrounded her horse's legs.

Jo held her breath as she assessed her chances. Barbed wire could kill, holding a horse and rider prisoner while the terrified animal destroyed them both. Paca hadn't been ridden since Jo's brief return two years ago during Christmas vacation and had acted like a young colt earlier today. If the mare fought the wire, she could kill or seriously injure them both. No one would find them until morning, since Jo normally rode until dark or later.

Her parents had come to accept her long-range jaunts. They wouldn't be worried until midnight. Already the April sun was casting long purple shadows across the valleys of the Blue Mountains.

Jo had already covered many miles in her meanderings this afternoon, elated to be back and riding the mountain roads and trails of Oregon. No one knew where she was. Jo could only pray that her well-trained Appaloosa would stay calm.

Paca shifted uneasily, and Jo looked hopefully up the fence line towards Adam's ranch. Before her grandfather's feud with him, Adam had always extracted her from her childhood scrapes. He seemed to know where to find her...and was usually the first to arrive when she landed in trouble.

She would not get out of danger sitting in the saddle, waiting for help.  She had to free herself. If Paca panicked as she dismounted, both of them could be torn to shreds, but Jo saw no alternative.