One Unhappy Horse (13 page)

"Oh," Jan said. "Oh." She swallowed and gazed in dismay at Mattie's daughter.

"What are you after?" Valerie Williams demanded.

Jan had never been a good liar. She blurted out, "Mattie said she wanted ... her silver shoes."

"You mean what was hidden in them, don't you?"

In a flash, Jan understood why she hadn't immediately seen the papers in the slippers. "How did you find them?" she asked.

"I was looking for the ring. My mother said she'd lost it again, so I did a thorough search of her things while I was getting her a nightgown for the nursing home."

Hastily, Jan began to explain. "Mattie hocked her ring for me. My horse needed an operation. My mother's working nights. And I'm going to lease my horse. We'll repay the
money, and Mattie'll get the ring back. By next summer, my mother says. "

"I've already redeemed the ring. The daughter held her hand out so that Jan could see that she was wearing it. "I'm the one you'll have to repay." Valerie narrowed her eyes. "Give me your name and address and telephone number. I need to talk with your mother about this business, she said.

Jan didn't like the sound of that. Stiffly, she said, "Mom's working two jobs to pay you back. My mother's very honest. And then she asked the question that had been haunting her. "Was that why you made Mattie go to the nursing home? Because she said she lost the ring?

"You think I punished my mother?" Valerie's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Jan didn't know what to answer, and with Valerie blocking her way out of the closet, she felt trapped. If only her father were there! He would know what to say to Mattie's suspicious daughter. No doubt he'd be careful not to make Valerie lose her temper by accusing her of anything. He'd just give her the facts calmly. He used to say you could get through most anything with horses and people if you kept it soft and easy.

"Well, you didn't want Mattie in your house anymore," Jan began slowly. "And then you don't visit her very much here. So—"

Valerie gasped and her face turned white, as if Jan had shocked her. "You must think I'm some kind of monster!" she said. "Whatever did my mother tell you about me?"

Jan took a deep breath and began to pick her way cautiously through what she knew. "All Mattie said was that you were smart," she told Valerie. "She said that you graduated from college and had a good job, but you quit it after you moved her in here. She just doesn't understand why you wanted to get rid of her."

"Wanted to get rid of her?" Valerie made a strangled sound, and her face twisted as if she were in pain. "She couldn't have said that. My mother knows how much I love her."

"You do?" Jan couldn't keep the doubt out of her voice. "Are you going to bring her back here, then? I mean, you're not going to leave her in the nursing home?"

"Of course I'm not," Valerie said.

"Because if you are," Jan put in hopefully, "Mattie could come and live with us. I'm pretty sure my mother would let her, even though we don't have much room."

Abruptly, Valerie sat down on the end of Mattie's bed. "Come on out of that closet," she said. "We need to talk."

Jan stepped into the room uncertainly. Valerie was staring at the coverlet, smoothing the crazy quilt design. Her hands were small and dainty like Mattie's. Otherwise, she didn't resemble her mother. For one thing, Valerie was twice as wide—not more than a few inches taller, but stockier. For another, the lines of her puffy face were drawn down, while Mattie's face seemed designed for smiling.

"If my mother's been complaining that I've neglected
her lately," Valerie began, "I can understand it. But it's not because I wanted to."

"She hasn't been complaining," Jan said. "Only you don't come when you promise, and that makes her feel bad."

"She'd feel worse if she knew what was wrong, Valerie said. The eyes that met Jan's had a wounded look. "My mother and I are so close. We're everything to each other, Valerie said. "And something terrible has been happening to me. I thought it would kill her if she knew."

"If she knew what?" Jan asked.

Valerie studied Jan with care. "How good are you at keeping secrets?" she asked.

"You mean from Mattie?"

"From everybody. I know Stella the manager here thinks I'm a terrible daughter. It's in her tone of voice when I call, and the way she looks at me—I haven't told her, either." Valerie pressed her fingers to her lips.

"Maybe you
should
tell her," Jan said. "And your mother, too.

Valerie eyed Jan thoughtfully. "My mother didn't actually say she thought I didn't love her, did she?"

"She wouldn't say anything bad about you," Jan said. "But she cried once.

"When?"

"When you didn't come for her birthday."

"Oh, her birthday!" Valerie's eyes glistened with tears. "I was so sick that day. I could barely drag myself out of bed,
and I brought her a pathetic bunch of flowers because I just couldn't—" The tears slid down her cheeks. "I've had breast cancer," she said. "I set my mother up here so that I could hide from her when I was going through the operation and the chemotherapy and—everything I had to go through."

"Are you okay now?" Jan asked cautiously.

Valerie shrugged. "I'm in remission. That's okay enough, I guess. But I can't believe ... How could my mother imagine that I'd ever stop loving her? We've always been so close."

"Yeah, she did say that," Jan said.

"Then you understand?" Valerie asked. "The reason I've neglected her? One look at me on some days and she'd have known something bad was happening to me."

Jan nodded and said, "Well, I'm glad. I mean, that you're all right and that you really love her. But why can't you tell her the truth now?"

"I don't know. She's gotten so frail." Valerie rubbed at her forehead and closed her eyes as if she were thinking.

"Because you're not going to die or anything anymore," Jan said.

Valerie laughed. "No. My doctor thinks we may even have licked it."

"And Mattie could use some good news," Jan persisted.

"Everybody can use good news. But she'd be frightened to know how sick I've been. She can't even say the word cancer without shuddering."

"I'm really sorry that I thought you were mean," Jan said.

"Well, I'm not sweet like my mother, that's for sure. Valerie's face lifted in a smile that finally made her resemble her mother. And she said, "You know, my mother talked about you. She told me you were just the grandchild she wished she had. I wanted to give her grandchildren. But—Anyway, I hope you're convinced that I do love and appreciate my mother.

"Sure, " Jan said, "I believe you. " It was Mattie who still needed to be convinced.

"Okay, then," Valerie said, getting back to business. "For now, would you just tell my mother you hid the papers somewhere for her? I'll show her I've got the ring when the time's right.

Jan nodded.

"And when I pack up her stuff and sort out what to toss and what to save, I'd better keep those silver sandals she's so crazy about, hadn't I?"

"You mean Mattie's not coming back here?" Jan asked in alarm.

Valerie shook her head wearily. "I can't afford to keep paying for this room. Cancer's expensive. I've been trying every cure I hear about, and insurance won't cover what the doctor doesn't prescribe."

"So when she leaves the nursing home—?"

"I'm not sure what'll happen then. Listen, I need time to
think. Would you please just not tell anyone what we talked about here? Will you keep it to yourself for a while and let me decide about telling my mother?"

"Okay," Jan agreed. She had done the best she could, and having talked to Valerie, she trusted that the woman would find a way to make things right.

Stella was nowhere in sight when Jan walked through the house and out the back door. That was a relief. With all the promises and cross-promises Jan had made to both Mattie and her daughter, she didn't want to risk talking to anybody about anything. Still, she returned to the casita in a cheerful mood. Mattie's daughter wasn't a monster, after all, and life seemed suddenly more fair.

Now all she had to do was figure out how to make Dove use his leg again. She found him in his favorite spot under the mesquite tree, leaning sideways to avoid putting weight on his fixed leg.

"Dove," she said, "you'll never believe what I just found out." She put an arm around his long neck, and looking into the intelligent brown eye nearest her cheek, she told him all about it.

Two days before Thanksgiving, while Jan was in school, Valerie came to speak to Jan's mother about the money Mattie had lent them. Valerie had been crisp but cordial, according to Mom. They had agreed upon regular monthly payments, and Valerie had left with an initial check. "We should be free of debt by next June, if all goes well," Mom told Jan.

"And you'll quit your waitressing job then?"

"You bet," Mom said with a grin.

The day before Thanksgiving, Lisa came into school beaming. She told Jan that her parents had agreed to let her lease Dove starting in January. "Dad's calling your mother to set it up. Isn't that great?"

"Uh-huh," Jan said. Her stomach lurched briefly at the idea of sharing Dove. She felt as if she had agreed to go shares in a brother or sister, but she reminded herself that this was her contribution toward Dove's recovery.

"That's good," Jan made herself say to Lisa. And she told herself to be glad Dove was being leased by a friend. "Now, how about helping me convince Dove he's cured?

Lisa hit a jubilant high five with her and said, "Let's do it."

On Thanksgiving day, Mom worked at the restaurant while Jan filled in for her at the ranch. That night, when they were eating the leftover turkey Mom brought home, Jan said, "I guess we have a lot to be thankful for."

"I guess we do, " Mom agreed. "Including that I didn't have to cook this." They smiled at each other.

For the next three weeks, Jan and Lisa spent a part of every lunch hour concocting schemes to get Dove to put weight on his healing leg. Lisa wanted to try scaring Dove again. "Because what does a horse do when he's scared?" she asked Jan.

"He runs away."

"Yeah? And can he run on three legs?"

"Not likely," Jan said.

"Okay," Lisa said. "So I'll charge into Dove's corral in that witch costume I wore for Halloween, and you scream, and Dove will run away on all four legs. It's simple."

Jan was doubtful. Deliberately scaring Dove seemed mean. Besides, they'd tried it once and it hadn't worked. But she couldn't come up with a better idea, so she agreed to Lisa's plan.

The next afternoon after school, Lisa brought her Halloween costume home on the bus with Jan and changed into it in the casita. Her dress was full of spangles and trailing scarves that floated eerily in the fitful December wind.

As planned, Lisa sneaked out to Dove's corral, hiding behind Jan so she could jump out and surprise him. But when Jan screamed and Lisa began leaping about and flapping her arms, Dove wasn't fazed. He lowered his head, watching Lisa, then nudged Jan as if to say, "What's with your friend?"

Their next idea was to walk Dove down the slope to the wash. It was hard for him to balance on three legs going up and down, and they hoped he'd need to use his mended leg. But he managed to lurch awkwardly along without it.

On another windy day that week, Lisa brought a bag of balloons. The girls blew up a dozen with much huffing and puffing and set them loose in the arena with Dove. As the crayon-colored balloons flew about, Dove turned to watch. His ears twitched with interest, but he didn't chase a single one.

Next, Jan tried running around the ring just inside the fence. She went around twice, and Lisa joined her on the third go-round. Dove watched them with a mildly perplexed expression, his ears turning as they ran, but not a step did he take to join them.

***

Along with her efforts to get Dove to move, Jan was visiting Mattie in the nursing home three times a week. Her mother took her twice, and on Wednesdays, when Lisa's mother had her weekly hair appointment in that direction, she took both girls. Lisa found an old man named Al who was palsied but still mentally alert enough to enjoy a checker partner. She stayed in the lounge with Al and played checkers while Jan visited with Mattie.

They talked about Dove and his obstinacy. Mattie kept assuring Jan that someday Dove would surprise her and just start using his leg. "You wait and see. It'll happen," Mattie said.

Every so often Mattie would make a remark about her daughter's visits that showed an edge of disappointment. Each time, Jan was tempted to break her promise to Valerie. It seemed wrong that Valerie was still withholding the truth from Mattie. Surely, knowing Valerie had had cancer would hurt Mattie less than believing her daughter had stopped loving her. But Jan's father had taught her that promises had to be kept, even ones she came to regret. And she had learned that lesson well.

One afternoon at a pause in their conversation, she asked Mattie, "So have you seen your daughter lately?"

"Oh, yes, she comes by," Mattie said. "But, you know, she doesn't look right to me. I don't think working at home is good for her." Mattie stopped, frowning. Then
she added, "And she's not keeping herself nice like she used to. She's got this awful short haircut. Valerie always had such pretty hair."

"Why don't you tell her you don't like it?" Jan said.

"Oh, I wouldn't hurt her feelings," Mattie said. "She's real sensitive about her looks. Valerie never liked what the mirror showed her. I always tried to tell her she was good looking, but—" Mattie sighed and said, "I guess children don't believe their mothers' compliments. Isn't that so, honey?"

"I'm Jan, Mattie."

"I know, but I forget. You should have met me when I was younger. I was so full of energy. I could whip up a dinner and clean the house and do the garden and still be—" She looked toward the door and her face lit up. Jan followed her gaze and saw Valerie.

"Hello, there," Valerie said to Jan. "I didn't know anyone was here with Mother."

"Just me," Jan said, "but I'm leaving."