Rain Shadow (21 page)

“Horses are highly aware, Taylor,” Jacob shared once, “prey animals
have to be. They sense everything about the environment to an extreme.
We’re the ones who become dull, block our feelings and sensations. Horses never do that.”

“But how does she always seem to know where I am?”

“Seeing is over-rated. People who are blind will have highly developed senses of hearing and touch. I bet something similar has happened with the loss of Rain’s eye. She probably follows your breathing patterns.”

Taylor considered that now. Yes, it was probably the breathing. Rain often lifted her nose to Taylor’s face and paused. The mare would breathe slowly in and out, her whiskery muzzle hairs tickling bare skin.

“Horses can’t see very well up close,” Liz shared once after observing one of Rain’s regular facial inspections. “And this hors
e
reall
y
has to compensate for lack of vision. She’s making sure of you; checking to see that you’re still breathing.”

Liz had smiled, the knowing smile of one who has shared a similar experience. Taylor wondered then if what hurt the most in human relationships was a dismissal of details, the way one could quit breathing and nobody ever noticed.

It took longer than Taylor expected to lap Jacob. She saw his navy running tights with silver reflective panels first and watched his arms pump rhythmically side to side. As they trotted up to him, Rain nickered softly and Jacob cocked his head without turning.

“Hi, girls. How’s it going?”

“Better than you, I think.” Taylor noted the damp hair at Jacob’s temples. She slowed Rain to a walk and considered the gradual incline before them. The hill would peak and then begin to descend into the valley again and the last leg of the race.

“I’m doing okay. Rain passed the vet check with flying colors, just so you know. We have a champion developing.”

Jacob grinned proudly and Taylor pushed down the warm feelings of being included in “we.” It was Rain he was interested in … and probably Brenda.

“Good to know.”

“See you on the flip side,” Jacob raised his arm in farewell. He never broke an exaggerated, methodical stride that resembled running in slow motion.

“Okay.”

Stoney Mountain had been part of a clear cut and gravel pit area at one time, which meant almost no mature trees remained and vision was unobstructed. Taylor pushed Rain into a faster walk and focused on the push for the top. Once there, she nearly gasped at the beauty of the valley that lay verdant below them. Overhead the grey cloud cover had broken into neat columns of puffs that gave the illusion of ripples in a vast pond, as if God had thrown a stone into the atmosphere and broken it up on purpose. 

As they cleared the top and began the descent on single track, Rain
picked her way carefully around large rocks, tree roots, and slowly decomposing
slash piles. Taylor removed the map from a back pocket and looked for the color coding of the trails. An orange ribbon would be her sign to tie Rain and continue on foot.

The fluttering ribbon appeared before the descent was completed. Taylor saw the flash of color between tree branches; it marked a fork in the path and continued down the mountain. She located a slender branch from which to secure the horse and dismounted stiffly.

“Ouch! How am I going to run anymore, Rain?”

The mare bobbed her head and swung her body this way and that. Clearly she didn’t want to be left alone.

“Just watch for Jacob. He’ll be here in no time, okay?”

Taylor rubbed the horse’s broad forehead, took a moment to stretch, and made her way down the path at a slow jog. Rain nickered at her back.



Chapter 28

G

oing downhill shouldn’t be so difficult. Taylor forced her feet ahead, knees protesting at every step. She’d passed and been passed by more than one team, but no Rain and Jacob. Too early. Jacob would be tired and moving slower.

Overhead the sky had changed once again. No end to the shades of grey and forms of precipitation in Washington State. The clouds, some tinged with charcoal, were moving restlessly, influenced by the atmospheric energy on a far hillside.

Taylor watched in awe as a beam of light opened the heavens and shone golden through the curtain of mist that covered the lone hillside with rain. It would move their way in time, Taylor could already feel the moist air cooling her cheeks. But above the curtain, through heaven’s porthole, a cerulean blue sky peeked, complete with wisps of cotton candy clouds that flitted across it. The scene was a sharp contrast to the grumbling grey masses to the west.

Looking as she was to the heavens, Taylor momentarily forgot to
keep an eye on the undulating earth below her. In an instant the poetry
of Mother Nature was replaced with its harsher realities as Taylor caught her toe on a root and tumbled forward. Her arms broke the fall, but offered no protection for a knee that squarely made contact with a  jagged boulder at the trail’s edge. 

Rolling to one side, Taylor instinctively clutched the knee to her chest. The blow had hit just the right nerves and her entire limb throbbed with a bright, tingling pain. She gritted her teeth and writhed this way and that as the knee pulsed. When she removed her hands from the leg to examine the joint they were streaked with blood.

“Great, just great,” she moaned.

“Everything okay?”

At that moment, a white-haired man on a chestnut gelding appeared
seemingly out of nowhere. He pulled his horse to a stop and looked at Taylor in concern, crow’s feet wrinkling into folds at the corners of his eyes. The man’s skin was as weathered as a football, a lifetime etched in
deep lines that endlessly merged and converged with each other. Despite
the obvious years the man was somehow ageless, sitting the horse with the grace of someone much younger.

“Yeah, fine. Really.” Taylor dragged herself farther away from the trail’s edge. “I’m just going to stick something on this scratch and be on my way.” She tried to smile.

“I’d be happy to turn around and find your team—Dr. Wilson, right?”

“Please, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

I need NO help from Dr. Wilson.

Reluctantly the man trotted on. As she watched his posting backside disappear from view Taylor pondered the fact that a grandpa was smoking her.

The sound of hoof beats in the distance, rhythmic and driving as an African drum, announced another rider approaching. Taylor picked up a scalloped edged leaf and wiped at the blood on her knee. Hopefully she could be on her way before Jacob saw her predicament.

“Taylor? Are you okay?”

Jacob appeared at her side. He gently touched her knee cap and immediately
began digging in his pockets.

“Right on the joint, that must have hurt. Good thing the cut’s superficial.
I’ve got a bandage here.”

Of course you do.

Taylor watched Jacob in silence. She felt Rain’s lips above her head, nuzzling her hair, and breathed in the salty smell of the horse.

“Did you trip on that boulder there?” Jacob gestured toward the offending chunk of rock by the trail.

Taylor pointed at a spot above the rock, “Root.” A sinuous loop broke the surface of the dirt like the hump of an under water sea serpent. “
I
fel
l
on the rock. Too busy staring at the sky.”

“Head in the clouds, huh?” A teasing smile perked the corners of Jacob’s mouth.

“Something like that.” Taylor watched him brush the broken skin with a wet wipe. A moment later he had removed the adhesive backing on a bandage and placed it gently over the wound.

“Is that the bes
t
modalit
y
of treatment for this injury, Dr. Wilson?”

Jacob chuckled, his dusty face crinkling into a smile that revealed both dimples. “I’m afraid it’s the best I can provide on the side of a mountain
,
Ms
.
Reed.” He stood and offered his hand. Taylor allowed him to pull her upright. She winced immediately and bent the injured knee.

“Why do scratches hurt so bad?”

“Lots of nerves close to the surface of the skin, but I think you’ll live.”

Taylor moved to the trail and examined the cracked boulder. It glistened a deep green that perfectly reflected the shade of the surrounding fir trees growing in scattered groupings at the trail’s edge.

“Olivine.”

“What?”

“The stone is called olivine.” Jacob moved to her side and bent to
examine the boulder. He picked at the crack and a small piece crum
bled off. “Olivine is a common mineral used for lots of things. The Twin Sisters have the largest reserves of olivine in the United States.” He gestured toward the mountains in the distance, their majestic granite faces devoid of vegetation, a solemn testimony to eternal forces.

Jacob had a far-away look on his face as he gazed at The Sisters. “‘I will lift my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from?’ My mother liked that scripture.” He considered the rock again. “Did you know that the gem form of olivine is
peridot? Birthstone of August.”

“That I know.” Taylor smiled at him, “My birthday’s in August.”

“Mine, too.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Jacob scratched the stubble on his chin. “32 this year … Geez I’m getting old!” He laughed. “Let’s see if I can remember the properties of peridot: Love, peace, truth and good luck, for starters. Can’t remember what else.”

“Is mineral healing one of your
specialities? Do I get a read of my horoscope, too?”

Jacob laughed again. “No. My Italian Catholic mother passed on all her superstitions. She read the Bible, but if a rock or rabbit’s foot could
influence the supernatural she was all for it: ‘Good to cover all the bases,’
she used to tell me. She’s the reason I know so much nature trivia.”

“Well, I’ll take all the good luck I can get. Not that I’m having much of it today … ”

Jacob seemed unconcerned. “I swear Rain wanted to find you. She was in a big hurry before we got here, like she knew something was up.”

Taylor walked to the mare and considered his words. The horse bumped her elbow then picked a mouthful of scraggly grass. Taylor laid a hand on her wither, “She always finds me.”

Jacob watched the mare graze for a few minutes, a thoughtful look on his face. “How about you ride the rest of the way and I’ll run? We don’t have far to go and it’ll save your knee.”

“But, you’re tired. We’re going to get beaten by geriatrics today, Jacob!” Taylor frowned.

“This is a training ride, remember? It’s okay to be a beginner. There’ll be another time. As for the geriatrics, a few of them regularly finish 50 mile endurance rides. Not your average grannies out here.”



Chapter 29

T

aylor followed Jacob toward a cedar-sided house. A grill smoked at one corner of an expansive covered deck where most of the Ride and Tie participants milled and chatted in groups of two or three. The home was a picture of domestic bliss. Pots of petunias in red, white, and blue sat at the corners of the deck and spilled over the side. A yellow lab lay snoozing in the sun and wind chimes tinkled in the
whisper of a breeze. The smell of charcoal and meat mixed with the essence
of spring air recently moistened by a shower.

They’d finished last at the race, but Jacob didn’t seem to care and all the riders congratulated Taylor on a job well done—she’d made it through and next time would be easier. Or so they insisted. Mishaps and battle scars made for good stories later on. She glanced down at the rainbow colored bruise already blossoming like a sloppy tattoo over her knee cap.

Jacob had insisted she accompany him to the after ride get together the day after the race. It was fun to be included, but now all she could do was fidget after getting through shallow “hellos” and “good jobs.” It was different for Jacob. People were drawn to the vet like a magnet and they peppered him with questions on all things equine: tack, feed choices, past injury care. She went into the house and approached the hostess, Tina.

“Can I help with anything? Carry some food out?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got everything covered. Unless you want to keep an eye on Mariposa for a couple minutes while I grab some more chairs?” Tina gestured toward a toddler in the corner. “She just got in a little trouble, didn’t you Pumpkin?” Tina’s voice turned warm and nurturing.

“Sure.”

Taylor flicked her eyes from the child to the retreating back of Tina. She sat on the floor with her back to the couch, as far from Mariposa as she could get, and watched. The little girl had a thatch of naturally curly red hair, and matching dimples. A blue clip-on ribbon nested in the curls. She was utterly engrossed in the contents of a large rubber bucket filled with toys, completely unaware that a stranger was charged momentarily with her care. Taylor watched her pull out a chunky book, open a page, and push it into her mouth. She chewed on the edge of the cardboard for a moment or two then threw it to the side. Chubby fingers clutched the side of the bucket, helping balance unsteady legs that were still bowed like an infant.