Authors: Kat Wells
Conall's Legacy (2 page)
Reluctant to have the moment end, but knowing she needed to move, she set the empty cup on the rail and whistled. A short haired, red-roan dog hustled around the corner of the white clapboard house.
“Come on, Rooster,” she said, stepping off the porch. “Time to feed.”
He leaped at her hands catching her fingers in a slobbery kiss. “Thanks,” she grumbled, then bent to ruffle his fur as she strode toward the barn.
Contentment settled over her when she stepped across the threshold of the huge, old building. She felt the rightness of being part of this--pride in the place and for her horses. Faded red paint covered loose boards and the whole thing leaned to the west, but she loved it like an eccentric, aged family member. She moved down the aisle, tossing hay to each animal. When she reached the last stall, she glanced at the elegant horse in the corner. The chestnut stallion stood on three legs, holding one back hoof off the ground.
“What have you done?” She grabbed a halter on her way into the stall, then slipped it on the horse and tied him up. “You’ll just have to wait for dinner. That’s what you get for kicking.” Kneeling in the shavings, she slid experienced hands down the horse’s leg, feeling for heat and swelling. “None yet,” she muttered.
Luisa hurried out and returned with a bottle of ghastly smelling liniment and leg wraps. She prayed the horse hadn’t broken anything. Getting the vet to come out this far was nearly impossible and far too expensive. Her stomach felt like it turned over as her heart raced.
What if she had to leave the ranch in order to take Royal Knight to the large animal clinic in Tucson? Terror shimmied up her spine in a familiar knee-jerk reaction. Fine sweat coated her forehead. It wasn’t from the heat. She forced the fear aside as she concentrated on treating her dressage horse. If he needed treatment, she’d do what had to be done. Just like always. Luisa knew she had the inner strength to do what she must. She’d stopped hiding out on the ranch a long time ago. Mostly.
Swallowing her fear, Luisa methodically applied liniment, then padded and wrapped Knight’s leg, securing the elastic bandage with sticky vet wrap. Getting back to her feet, she left the huge horse and moved into the routine of caring for all her other animals. The common motions of gathering feed, putting on light weight night blankets, and handing out treats wrapped her in much needed comfort.
#
As usual after supper, Luisa curled up, coffee in hand, in her favorite chair on the back porch--a centuries-old rocker her father’s people had brought from old Mexico.
I’m stuck in a rut, and I like it that way
. She blew on the liquid before sipping gently at the dark brew and asking herself why.
Cozy and safe, that’s why. Like a wellworn boot
.
With her head cocked to one side, Luisa listened to the country quiet. At the moment it seemed no one else existed in the world, surrounded as she was by acres of land and scrub trees without another person within miles. Tonight, as much as she loved the solitude, the ranch had an oppressive feel to it.
The temperature dropped with the sun, as it always did at this elevation. Luisa pulled her father’s faded flannel shirt on, wrapping it nearly twice around her body, not exactly sure if she was protecting herself from the chill or from loneliness. She remembered the evenings her father had kept her company, reading to her from a favorite worn copy of James Whitcomb Riley’s poetry while they sat on the porch. She knew those evenings of reading pleasure had led to her now being a children’s author.
A jackrabbit burst out of the brush, startling her and catalyzing Rooster. He leapt up and ran barking into the trees hot on the trail of a jackrabbit nearly as large as he. When his yapping faded, she whistled him back. He ran to her and dropped in a heap at her feet, panting.
“I love you, Rooster, but I think I need to see a human being. How long has it been since we’ve had Cindy for a visit?” She laughed. “Too long if I’m talking to a dog.” She stroked his back. She pictured her childhood friend--petite and blond in contrast to Luisa’s dark skinned, dark haired, tall frame.
“I’ll call her. Maybe she can bring out a few groceries. Maybe even a box of dog treats for you. Cindy hasn’t been out in three months.” Luisa shook her head. “Time flies, brat dog.”
She got up, leaving the chair rocking as though an unseen soul took up where she’d left off.
Luisa stepped inside, the dog at her heels, no invitation needed. Before she dialed Cindy’s number, the call from her mother flashed across her mind. It brought unwanted memories with it. She frowned and stared at the phone as if it were a traitor. She reached for it, but let her hand drop. It was time to be strong and to stand up for herself and for her personal needs. It was time to stand up to Marie. It was time to forgive her, but let her know there was no place in Luisa’s life for her mother. They’d each moved on, and there was no going back.
Tomorrow. First, she’d call her mother, then her friend.
CHAPTER TWO
The stringent aroma of liniment clung to the air. Luisa crinkled her nose in disgust. She walked out of Knight’s stall brushing horse hair and dust off her jeans. Thankfully, only a little swelling remained from his kicking the wall the day before. In a day or two, they’d be back at work in Luisa’s arena.
As she walked toward the bright sunlight shining into the barn aisle, the old black telephone inside the barn door caught her attention. She resolved to contact Marie at lunch. Then she’d contact Cindy and invite her out for dinner.
A car horn broke into her thoughts. Disappointment twisted around her heart. She enjoyed the solitude of the ranch, the heavenly quiet. Luisa lifted a hand to block the early morning rays to see who drove under the ranch’s wooden arch. She immediately recognized Cindy’s rich plum BMW convertible. Relief flooded her.
“Cindy. Hi!” Luisa broke into a jog and caught her friend in a mutual hug when Cindy jumped out of her dust-covered car.
“You know, my car was clean when I left town. It was even clean when I got to your ranch road.” She shook her head. “Two miles of dust does wonders for it, but it’s worth it to see you.” She laughed and grabbed Luisa in another hug.
“How are--?”
“What’s up--?”
The two women laughed and stepped apart.
“You first,” Luisa said.
“I quit waiting for your call and brought your usual stuff out. What have you been up to?”
“I realized last night it’s been three months since I saw you and supplies were running low.” She smiled. “It’s getting serious when I’m down to my last two cold sodas.”
“We read each other’s minds.” Cindy popped open the trunk of her car.
“Let’s get this food unloaded, and I’ll write you a check. Then we can have a cold drink and catch up,” Luisa said.
“Sounds great.”
They carried bag after bag into the house, and Luisa put most of the food in the ancient propane freezer that took up a corner of the kitchen.
“Thanks so much for all the supplies. You have us set for another three months.”
Cindy shook her head. “I shouldn’t do this, you know.”
Luisa glanced at her friend, one eyebrow raised.
“It’s kind of like aiding and abetting. Enabling you to stay tucked away here.”
“I appreciate it, Cindy. And I do understand you’re being put on the spot over it. I go to town when I need to. I just tend to forget when it comes to things that aren’t urgent.”
Her friend laughed at that. “Food is a good thing. Anyway, I didn’t know how low you were, so I stocked up. I tried to call last night, but the phone was busy. Then the hospital called me in. You know how it is.”
“Mother called last night,” Luisa said quietly.
Canned tomatoes slipped from Cindy’s fingers and crashed on the counter. “
Your
mother?”
“No, yours.” Luisa shook her head. “Sorry. Her call really bothered me.” She pushed her hair back from her face. “She wants to come for a visit.”
“Why?”
“She said we needed to talk.”
“What about?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Luisa reached into the refrigerator for the last cold sodas. “Let’s go out on the porch.”
They stepped outside and Cindy sank onto the porch swing, tucking one leg under her and using the toes of her dangling foot to swing the seat back and forth. She accepted a cold can and popped the top. “What do you think she wants?”
“I really don’t know. She didn’t sound right. Not like herself at all.” Luisa shrugged. “Something must be up.”
“When’s she coming?”
“I’m not sure about that either. She said she couldn’t talk about it and hung up.”
“Well, we’ll worry about it when it happens, hmmm? What else is new around here?”
“Not a thing.” Luisa shivered. “Well, actually Royal Knight did hurt himself. But he’s fine now.”
Cindy sent her a meaningful look. “And you thought you were going to have to take him to Tucson.” It was a statement not a question.
“The thought crossed my mind.” Luisa sighed and slowly shook her head. “All right. I panicked, but it was an automatic reaction. I got a handle on it fast enough.”
“Luisa--”
“Now don’t lecture. It was just an old habit. Gone. Done. Anyway, everything else is dead quiet.” Luisa smiled at her friend. “Just the way I like it. It’s peaceful, quiet, and all mine. No BLM employees or research students to baby-sit this year.”
“It’s too bad your dad built the old bunkhouse. If it weren’t for that, you’d never be pestered,” Cindy said tongue-in-cheek. She appeared to reconsider. “Of course, then you’d have an excuse for never having anyone out here.”
Luisa took a long, cold drink. “Suits me. Strangers are always full of questions. Things that don’t concern them.” She ran her fingertips down the right side of her face, from temple to jaw, across the puckered scar she’d carried most of her life.
“Luisa,” Cindy hesitated. “You really should go to town once in a while. It would be so good for you. Besides, you could use a date now and again,” she teased.
“Did they teach you to make that kind of assessment during your psychiatric residency, Dr. Taylor?”
“Nope, woman to woman. You need a good man in your life.”
“Why? I have everything I need right here.”
“Don’t you want kids someday? A man to share good days and bad?”
“I suppose I do.” A soul-deep sigh came from within Luisa’s chest. “But who’s going to get close enough to know the real me when they see my face?”
“Your face isn’t bad. I’ve dealt with patients who were a lot worse. Besides, a
real
man won’t care.”
The heat in her friend’s voice brought a smile to Luisa’s lips.
Cindy shrugged, obviously embarrassed by her outburst. “Anyway, you need to see someone to help you get over the remaining agoraphobia, and deal with the rest.”
“I see you. That’s good enough for me.”
“You see me as a friend. Our relationship is too important to both of us. Because of that, I can’t treat you and you know it.”
Luisa ignored her friend’s comment. “Anyway, I
am
over it.”
Cindy simply sent her a yeah-right look.
“Well, mostly. I have knee-jerk reactions when I first think of leaving here, but then I go to town anyway. That’s lots better than a few years ago.” Luisa cocked her head to the side. She’d picked up the hint of something brewing. “You said I should see ‘someone.’ Who do you mean by someone?” She watched guilt flicker across her friend’s face. “You mean a shrink.”
“Watch it. I’m a shrink.”
“I know, but you mean a stranger shrink. Someone poking around in my mind who I don’t know? I don’t think so.”
“You need to talk to a professional about your reluctance to leave the ranch.”
“I am perfectly content here with me, myself, and I. I don’t need anything that isn’t right here. And I go to town when I want to.”
“Two times in the last two years doesn’t count for much. You need help from an expert in the field.”
“Like who?”
“Well...” Cindy took a slow sip of soft drink, avoiding Luisa’s gaze. “I have a colleague who’s willing to come here and work with you if you aren’t comfortable in town,” she said in a rush. “His name’s Adriano Menendez, and the added benefit is that he’s dynamite to look at.” She wiggled her eyebrows, obviously trying to lighten the moment.
Irritation flashed through Luisa at grass-fire speed. “You talked to a stranger about me?”
“Not really. Well, yes.”
“What happened to patient-doctor privacy?”
“You’re not my patient. You’re my best friend.” She looked at Luisa sheepishly. “I’m sorry, but I worry about you out here all alone.”
“Now you sound like a mother. I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? He’s got an excellent reputation for treating phobias. Especially this one.”
“I can’t afford outside help. Besides, I’m working through it myself.”
Cindy fired possibilities at her, ignoring her reluctance. “Hey, Adriano has kids. What if he wants to barter?”