Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html (25 page)

BOOK: Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html
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She had carried it to her horse but her soreness had prevented her from being able to lift it above her waist.  Travis took the saddle from her and effortlessly threw it over the dapple gray back of the Appaloosa.  In one tug, he tightened the cinch under the horse’s belly, and then he slapped the saddlebags behind the saddle.  He gently coaxed the bit into the mare’s mouth.

Turning back to her, he put his hands upon his hips and surveyed her attire.  Satisfied that she was dressed appropriately for the long and arduous journey ahead, he took her arm and guided her over to a boulder and said, “Now, let’s limber up.  Watch me and do what I do and tomorrow won’t be as painful for you.”

He lifted his leg to rest his foot upon the boulder and then leaned against it, stretching his leg as far as it would go and then nodding for her to do the same.  She followed his lead and they stretched each individual muscle of their legs and arms until they were both limber and ready to mount up.

Despite her stretching exercises, Savannah still struggled to step into the stirrup and swing her stiff leg over her horse’s back but she took up the reins as if she were limber and ready to ride.  Travis steered his horse to stand beside hers and handed a cloth to her.  She opened it up and found a fresh leaf of Aloe Vera.  He winked knowingly and she rolled her eyes at him, but took the offering anyway.  She dabbed her nose with the mushy, cold liquid and then placed the leftovers in her saddlebag behind her.  Then, she touched a knee to her mount and followed her escort further into the desert.

As the day crept into late morning, the horses began to tire.  The heat of the blistering sun echoed off the arid and cracked ground, stifling the already dry air.  Breathing came in labored gasps as the horses tried to take their riders just a few more steps.  Travis’ Palomino shook its head and snorted, jangling the bit between its teeth.  Travis glanced at Savannah, who was slumped in her saddle, mopping a damp handkerchief against the exposed skin beneath her blouse.  He reined in his horse and motioned for her to do the same.  He stepped out of the saddle and unhooked his canteen, shaking it gently next to his ear.

“Not much water left,” he said as he looked at her with uncertainty in his eyes for the first time since they had met.  “They’ll need it more than we will.  Pour half of yours into this and give it to your mount,” he instructed as he handed the canteen to her along with a pot that the horses could drink from. 

Savannah did as she was told and poured half of the water into the pot and as the grey horse sipped greedily, she caressed the mare’s velvet nose.  She hoped so much that this horse did not end up the same way that her last one had.  Poor Dancer’s bones were probably still lying in a sun-bleached heap right where she had left him. 

Travis had been right to say that the horses needed the water more than they did, for they were carrying riders and all of their gear and having to walk in the heat, which made them sweat profusely.  She wished that she would have known this when she had set out in the desert before.  Perhaps Dancer could have carried her all the way through it.  Then she would have her baby right now and she would not be making this trip back through the desert again.

With the rationed water drained, the two riders mounted up and continued their southwesterly journey.  For two more hours, they trudged across dusty ground, neither talking but keeping their thoughts to themselves.  Savannah was looking around, thinking that she could remember the surroundings that they cross through.  There was the giant cactus that she had stopped to marvel at and to her left was the mesquite tree that must have died in the last year or two.  In the distance, she saw a clump of yucca plants that she had nearly been bitten by a rattle snake when she had stopped to cool off in its inviting shade.

They did not stop to eat but nibbled on dried jerky and sucked on cloth that they had dipped in their canteens, as they rode southward at a slow, easy pace.  As the afternoon sun slipped behind a puff of white clouds, the travelers were rewarded with a soothing spell of shade.   Travis looked up at the sky and sniffed the air.  The golden stallion beneath him smelled it too, for he sashayed to the side and dipped his head in excitement.  Rain was coming.  He could feel the fresh, cool, redeeming water that swelled in the darkening clouds that rumbled miles ahead.

Travis watched for a flash of lightning and calculated the time it would take for the storm to reach them by counting the seconds for the sound of thunder to reach their ears.  In about ninety minutes, a gusher was going to spill over this arid desert and he and Savannah had no place to run for cover.  He looked worriedly at his companion and wondered how well she could control that skittish Appaloosa beneath her when the storm hit.  Already, the gray mare was prancing and straining at the bit, causing Savannah to sit tense and alert in the saddle.  He admired her composure for she handled her mount with patience and skill, talking soothingly to it and keeping its head in the sturdy grip of her hands.

“Rain’s coming,” he told her, nodding to the southeast.

“I see,” she said, squinting into the black, churning sky ahead.  “Looks like the remains of a hurricane.”

“Could be,” he agreed.  “Whatever it is, we need to find cover and soon.”

Savannah nodded and jerked back just in time to avoid being smashed in the head by her mare’s massive gray skull as the horse panicked from the approaching storm.

“Can you handle that horse?” Travis asked with an arch of his brow.

“I’m alright,” Savannah assured him as she shouted above the thunder.  “She’s just a little nervous.  She’s very alert and sensitive.”

“More like she’s yellow-bellied,” he accused as his own horse danced in apprehension.

“They’ve got a good reason to be afraid,” she shouted, patting the mare’s neck reassuringly.  “They know they are out here with no cover.”

“So are we,” Travis retorted as he scanned the horizon for a minute chance of a tree or rock that they could crawl under until the storm passed.

Savannah started to reply, but a jack rabbit zigzagged in front of her and Dixie reared and wheeled around, squealing in fright.  She held tightly to the reins and the saddle horn hoping that she did not slip to the ground and find herself being trampled by her frightened mare.  When the Appaloosa stopped pitching and bucking, she let up on the reins with shaking hands.  Savannah smoothed Dixie’s lathering neck, hoping that the gesture would calm them both down.

“You alright?” Travis asked above the rumble of thunder.

“Yes, we’re alright now,” she assured him as she steered the mare toward him.  “The rabbit was just looking for a hole to climb into to get out of the rain.”

Just at that moment, she remembered the cave that she had found when she had been trudging across the desert before and she looked around to see if she could possibly remember where it was. 

“Wait a minute,” she said excitedly.  “There was a cave somewhere around here.” 

She spurred her mount and squinted at the bleak and sparsely vegetated land.

“Maybe we passed it,” Travis offered.  “Maybe we should go back.”

“No,” she said insistently.  “It’s up ahead.  I don’t know how far—a mile or two.  It seemed a long way when I was on foot but it took half a day to get to that Saguaro plant back there so it won’t take long to reach the cave on horseback.”

“It better not,” Travis said as he looked at the clouds above.  “That storm is coming faster than I thought.”

Savannah spurred her horse into a trot and searched the ground for that sage bush that covered the entrance to the burrow that she remembered ducking into years ago.  A flash of lightning struck just a few hundred yards away, causing both riders to duck instinctively and then to nudge their mounts into a run.  The rain came, at first, in sparse drops that plopped on the dry ground, making dozens of little funnels in the dust.  Then, all at once, the sky burst into sheets of cool, refreshing rain that provided much-needed moisture to the arid landscape.  But the blessing was accompanied by the warning of danger that flashed with every lightning bolt and loomed with every clap of thunder.

The riders steered their nervous mounts to the left as Savannah saw the familiar sage bush which straddled a blooming yucca plant.  She recalled how odd that the bush had looked with the long green shoot that had sported a mass of flowering pods at its tip.  They quickly dismounted and hobbled the horses.  Travis grabbed the slicker and saddlebags and followed Savannah to the swaying bush.  He pushed the jutting limbs aside and peered into the small burrow.  The opening was tight but he felt that they could squeeze through.  Inside, the hole was damp but no water was seeping through yet.  The cave was just large enough to hold two people if they huddled close together.  He looked back at Savannah and thought to himself that he’d been in tighter spots with not quite as pretty companions.  He’d manage this time too.

He scooted back out of the cave and nodded to Savannah that it was safe to enter and then he ducked into the opening, hunching his shoulders as he moved toward the back wall of the burrow.  Tugging the saddlebags which hung aggravatingly on a branch, he swore under his breath and heaved angrily on the leather strap.  The branch gave way just as Savannah was starting into the hole.  She entered the den to see Travis curled in a ball, food stuff and clothing hanging on his head and strewn about the floor of the cave.

She eased in beside him and snickered at his expression, which was a mixture of bewilderment and embarrassment and, of course, fury.  She helped him remove the clothes and they stuffed them back into his bags while he grumbled his annoyance at the situation.  While Savannah replaced the food into the other side of his saddlebag, Travis crawled to the opening of the den and stuffed the slicker outside so that it rested over the bushes that covered the entrance.

He turned back into the cave to find Savannah’s face a torrent of tears, her eyes fixed on a tiny pair of knitted baby booties.  Wondering if he should rush to comfort her or to just let her alone in her sadness, he stayed where he was while he decided which would stop her crying fit sooner.

Savannah looked at his concerned face and sniffed while wiping away the tears and explained, “I lost them the first time I was here in the desert.  I was so distraught at the time because they were the only reminder of my little boy.  I just found them again and at first I was elated because they are so precious to me. But then, I started wondering if he would remember me when he sees me again and if he would ever love me again.”

His heart melting at her words, Travis pulled her into his arms and leaned against the back of the cave while she cried against his shoulder.  He smoothed her hair as he consoled, “Nobody forgets their mother.  It’s instinct, branded into our hearts forever, no matter how young we are when we are separated.”

Savannah sniffed and pulled away from him to search his face, for it seemed as if he spoke from experience.

As if reading her mind, he explained, “When I was four years old, my parents went to Europe to secure more products for their company.  I was left in our big house with the nanny and servants for almost two years while they traveled.  At that young age, I was devastated at losing them and I was so afraid that they would never come home again. While they were gone, I looked at my mother’s portrait every day because I was afraid that I would forget her.  There were a few things that I had forgotten about her, but when they returned, those wonderful things that make a mother the one person that a child is bound to came rushing back to me the moment she took me into her arms.  The love and the devotion that I had felt for her as a very young boy seemed to return ten-fold.”  He took a breath to let his words soak in, then he finished, “Needless to say, I made them promise never to leave me again.”

Warmed by his story, Savannah felt a surge of admiration for this man whom she had witnessed to be cross and callous at times and then gentle and compassionate at other times.  Without thinking that their closeness would cause either of them to feel passion for the other, she leaned into him and encircled him with her arms.  Taking in the warmth that he infused into her body, both physically and emotionally, she closed her eyes and whispered, “Thank you.”

Travis drew in a deep sigh, taking in the fragrance of her dark, lustrous hair, the dampness from the rain mingled with the lingering lavender scent that wafted through his senses.  He leaned his face close to her to lightly kiss the top of her head and then covered it with his cheek.  Then he released the sigh of pure pleasure as he wrapped her in his strong arms and closed his eyes.  Contented sleep overtook him almost immediately.

Outside their haven, the thunder clapped and the rain came in sheets, driven by a blustery southeasterly wind.  The deserted horses presented their rumps to the wind that pummeled them with biting raindrops.  The once scorched landscape became drenched and swelled with little rivers that wound around cactus plants and rocks, bent upon finding their way to the Rio Grande and then back to the sea to be sucked up again by the next congregation of clouds.

Savannah awoke with a start, her mind reeling with confusion.  The quiet that surrounded her was the complete opposite of the deafening noise that had enveloped just moments ago.  Or had it been hours ago?  She stirred slightly and felt the warmth of Travis’ body behind her.  Reluctant to leave him, she remained pinned by his powerful arms.

When he stirred, his mind, too, was jumbled with questions as he shook his head and squeezed her toward him.  But, realizing that their bodies were adjoining and his own body was reacting to this close proximity, he thrust Savannah away, sending her sprawling on the dirt floor on her hands and knees.

BOOK: Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html
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