Wild Horses (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

N
ORA
STARED
AT
the email she wished she hadn't opened.

“What's wrong?”

She glanced up. Todd was looking at her from over the book he was reading. She hesitated, not wanting to pop the perfect bubble they'd lived in for the past couple weeks.

“Nothing.” She was lying, but she needed a moment to think. Everything had been going so well between them. And this email could change that.

They'd come up with a temporary solution with the mustangs. Todd delivered hay to them late at night and, if the horses were calm, crept into their corral to clean up the manure. It was astounding that no one at the DRM station seemed to notice the better-quality hay and the growing manure pile alongside the mustangs' corral. It only highlighted their overall neglect.

Todd had rallied some friends to help him mend his fences and improve the shelter on his land. He'd also written to the DRM offering to adopt all the horses. He'd hoped his letter would speed up the adoption process and get the mustangs out of the holding pens more quickly, but so far he'd heard nothing back.

But meanwhile, they were in love. During the long summer evenings, Todd took her on dates, showing her all his favorite places around Benson. She was seeing her hometown through his eyes, and liking it far better than she'd ever thought she could.

She'd spent most of her young life here stuck on Marker Ranch, with no access to a car. So she'd never known that there were so many hiking trails to choose from, beautiful trails that led into the mountains, past pine groves and into the high desert hills. They had dinner picnics from Todd's favorite viewpoints and took walks along his favorite creeks, where they kicked off their boots and splashed in the water.

She'd only ever heard about the many hot springs in the area. But Todd had taken her to one on a recent full moon night. With the tea lights he'd brought casting a golden glow over the bubbling pool, they'd soaked in the earthy, sulfurous water. It was strange and magical and exhilarating. And when he'd made love to her afterward, on blankets in the back of his truck, she'd felt like the wild teenager she'd never had the chance to be.

Being in love with Todd was incredible. And now she was staring at the email that could ruin it all.

She took a deep breath. “There's a hearing in Congress. About the issues facing wild horses. I've been asked to testify about the impact of the horses on native plants.”

“How did I not know about this hearing?” Todd was out of his seat in an instant, coming to sit beside her, reading the email over her shoulder. “It's next week!”

“They're going to fly me to Washington.” She was stunned. Nora Hoffman, raised firmly on the wrong side of the tracks, testifying at a congressional hearing?

“That's great! It's a big opportunity for you.” Todd was smiling, but she could hear a false note in his enthusiasm.

“But not good for you,” she said softly, “if my research sways them to further limit the wild-horse population.”

He ran his hands over his face and up through his hair, making it stand on end in honey-colored ridges. “The fact that they asked you to testify shows that they have a lot of faith in your research. But that's what worries me. Normally I'd be the first person cheering you on, but in this case, your success might not be the best thing for me. Or the horses.”

He looked defeated and it broke her heart. “I hate being on opposite sides of this thing,” he said.

“We're
not
on opposite sides. Not completely.” She wanted to erase the tension between them. “I care about the horses, too.” She thought for a minute, then brightened. “You know, we may be blowing this out of proportion. I'm a scientist and I give boring scientific presentations. Most likely their eyes will just glaze over, and that will be it.”

His smile was token. “Maybe, but you know they'll probably ask for your opinion. And
that
will be what they'll listen to.”

They slumped side by side on the couch. Todd stared at his folded hands and Nora stared at her laptop, wondering how to make this right between them.

“So what if you gave them your opinion?” he sat up suddenly.

“Well, of course I will.”

“Not just about the plants.” He was in activist mode now. All lit up. “What if you explained
all
the issues in your testimony? That when they take the horses' land and open it up for fracking, mining and cattle grazing, the mustangs are forced onto a much smaller range. Then of course the plants suffer. Too many hooves on too little land.”

“They could just use that information to justify more roundups.”

“Not if you explain it correctly. Not if you talk about
why
the horses are important and should be given
more
land. I can write you up some talking points. It's a great opportunity to make a difference.”

She stared at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. “I think you're asking me to give
your
presentation, not mine.”

“Well, no, you'd still give your plant data. But you'd deliver it in context.”

Frustration was rising inside her but she tried to keep steady. “The problem with your idea is that this is my
job
. I'm paid to do a certain thing. I can't just talk about whatever I want.”

“They need to hear the whole story.”

“But I'm not being asked to testify on the horses,” she explained. “I'm being asked to testify about the plants.”

“That's just semantics, Nora. You have a chance to go up there and explain the entire problem to our Congress. And you should. You have a moral obligation to explain the horses' plight.”

“A moral obligation?”

“Did I say something wrong?” He looked genuinely confused.

Tears of frustration were threatening and she really didn't want them. “How can
you
talk about moral obligation? When you bend and break rules to justify your activism?”

“I do what I know is right. And in this situation, the right thing is to address what's happening to the plants
and
the horses.”

And it hit her. Like feeling the door of a cage slam shut around her. “You're asking me to ruin my career. For your cause. It's almost the same issue we had when we were twenty.” She stood up, trapped by this fundamental difference between them.

“What are you talking about?”

“This is my work. If I go before Congress and start talking about a bunch of stuff that they aren't paying me to talk about, I'll lose my job. And worse than that, I'll be discredited. People won't hire me. So then I won't have paychecks. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, but a paycheck shouldn't be the only thing that matters.”

She thought she might throw up. “I think there are very few people in this country privileged enough to say that.”

“You think I'm privileged? I'm not that trust-fund kid anymore, Nora. I gave up all the family money when I turned my back on the family business.”

“Well, you're still acting like that kid. The same one who got mad at me because I couldn't afford to give up my income and go save the rain forest. Well, news flash, I can't afford to give up my income for wild horses, either.”

“But you don't know that will happen. Does the DRM even pay close attention to any of this? You could probably say whatever you wanted at the hearing and they wouldn't even notice.”

“And you want me to take that kind of risk?”

“I think you're cautious and you see a lot of things as risky that really aren't.”

Her fury had her pacing back and forth across his living room. “And you're the expert on all of this? You get to decide whether my actions are a risk? How can you be so patronizing? How can you be so careless with my life?” She gave a bitter laugh. “I'm remembering all those admiring things you said about my doctorate. It was just lip service, right? Because getting that degree took years. It took a lot of sacrifices. And you think I should just destroy all that so I can share
your
opinions with Congress?”

Now he was on his feet. “Is this really what you got that doctorate for? So you could be a mouthpiece for a corrupt, negligent agency?”

“What an awful thing to say!” But his words held bitter truth. Her work wasn't what she'd envisioned. “It's not that simple! This native plant project was near Marker Ranch, and Wade needed me!”

“I see that,” he said a little more calmly. “I'm being unfair. But so are you. My work with the horses matters to me, even more than my actual business. I feel as if it's what I was meant to do. So just because I'm not pulling in a paycheck for it, doesn't mean it's not as important as your job.”

“But even if your work with the wild horses
was
your job, it's still not fair to ask me to jeopardize my job for yours.”

His eyes flashed with the frustration he was so obviously trying to check. “If telling the whole truth to Congress puts your job in jeopardy, then you have the wrong job.”

Ouch. And wow. She was seeing a side of him she'd hoped wasn't still there. “It must be nice to sit up there on your pedestal and judge me.”

“That's just unkind.”

She was angry now. “You know what's unkind? That once again your activism is more important than our relationship. Just like it was in college. You say you love me, but it's an expendable love. And I'm the idiot who fell for it again.”

He fired back. “No. Here's what's amazing—that you're so busy protecting yourself that you won't take risks, even the ones that matter. You won't put your heart out there—you're just running scared all the time. Hiding your family history. Hiding from the people in this town. And now you're running away from a chance to make a difference in the world.”

Anger blazed. “Really? That's what you think of me? That I'm a coward? I am
not.
I'm a survivor of things you can't even begin to imagine.” She sat back down on the couch, completely exhausted.

Misery hung in the air between them. Her heart hurt. Clearly they were over, and it made her feel like the abandoned kid again, whose mom had disappeared from her life. Whose dad had chosen crime over her. Whose college love had chosen the rain forest over her. And this time, would choose wild mustangs.

“I don't know what to say.” Todd wasn't even looking at her anymore.

She was suffocating under this bone-deep feeling of defeat. He was right. There wasn't much else to say. This issue with the horses had been between them since the moment they had seen each other again. It had just been a matter of time before it caused a rift.

She'd been hanging on to Todd with her eyes shut. She couldn't stay here, losing him, any longer. “I'm going to head home. I have a lot of work to do if I want to be ready to fly to Washington next week.”

“Okay,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Good luck with it all.” He didn't try to make her stay, and it was the confirmation she didn't want. That she was right. This had ruined them.

“Thanks.” She shoved her laptop in her bag, slid her feet into her flip-flops and pulled her sweater on. She was hoping that by the end of those mundane tasks, she'd have thought of something to say to him. Something cheery or comforting or hopeful. Or that he'd say something like, “Don't go.” But he didn't, and she couldn't find any words, either, so she just put her hand on front doorknob. “I'm sorry this issue came between us.”

“Me, too. Just let me know if I can do anything for you...give you any information if you decide you want to expand the scope of your testimony.”

Really? That was where his mind was going right now? Not that they loved each other and now it was over? No. Obviously, the most important thing to him was his cause. And why should she be surprised? His single-minded devotion to his causes was one of the things about him that had never changed.

Angry tears were replaced by the heartbroken variety. “Goodbye, Todd.” She stepped out of his front door, out of his house and out of his life. It wasn't much consolation, but at least this time she'd only let herself fall in love with him for a few weeks instead of a few years. And at least this time, he was the one left sitting on the couch.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

T
ODD
STEERED
HIS
truck over the rutted driveway that led to Nora and Wade's ranch. He should have just brought his tractor over and insisted on grading this road. It could have been the first gesture in the millions he'd need to make before Nora might forgive him. He was here to apologize, but he knew full well that it was going to take a lot more than words to make up for what an idiot he'd been last week.

He'd always been like that—pushy and obsessed when it came to his “causes,” as Nora called them. It was what had gained him employment in many high-profile environmental groups. But it also made him single-minded, sometimes to the point of stupidity.

He'd had five days to regret it. Well, four really. The first day he'd spent in a self-righteous huff, wondering why Nora wouldn't use her amazing opportunity to testify in the way
he
wanted her, too. She was so rigid, he'd complained to Edward and Abbey as he moved the mustangs out to graze. She was just like his parents, looking at his work with the mustangs as some sort of odd hobby, rather than the all-important work that it was.

The second day he'd spent going back over her words and finally listening to them. And hearing all the stinging barbs of truth there. And he'd spent all the other days mired in shame and regret.

He pulled up in front of the old ranch house and parked. Took a deep breath and opened the door of his truck. He'd called her several times but she wasn't answering. He'd left apologies on her voice mail, but she wasn't returning his messages. Now he was desperate enough to try to surprise her at home.

He didn't see her Jeep, but she could have parked it somewhere else.

Still, he wasn't surprised when no one answered his knock. It wasn't like Nora or Wade to hang around the house, unless they were fixing something there. They spent most weekend days following Nora's carefully assembled lists, all items prioritized by what would help Wade get an income from his cattle the fastest. Luxuries like making this old house into a home would come later, once the ranch was viable.

He took the steps off the porch two at a time, making sure to miss the one at the bottom that was cracked almost in two, and walked down the dirt road that led to the largest barn. The one where Wade had found a bunch of dry rot. Sure enough, Todd heard the sound of a hammer as he approached. One hammer.

He walked around the barn to the far side and found Wade setting a new board into the section he'd had to rip out. “Let me give you a hand with that,” Todd said, reaching out to help stabilize the wood.

The blow to his jaw was so sharp and fast that he was sitting in the dirt before he was aware he'd fallen. “Ow! What the hell?” He stared up at Wade, who looked as if he might haul off and hit him again.

“I warned you not to mess with my sister,” Wade told him quietly. “But that's exactly what you did.”

Ah. So this was justice. He could take that. He probably deserved several more hits. He decided to stay down in the dirt, pretty sure that if he stood Wade would just punch him down again.

“Yes, I did. I screwed it up royally, and no one is sorrier about that than I am.”

“What the hell were you thinking? Asking her to risk her job? Why can't you fight your own damn battles?”

Wade's disdain was palpable, and Todd could see the warrior in him. He was someone who met everything head-on. Wade would never even consider asking someone to do work that was rightfully his.

“I never thought of it that way,” he said honestly. “I just saw this chance that she had and I pushed my own agenda.”

Wade shook his head in disgust and went back to hammering. Todd sat in the dirt and watched him. After a few moments Wade glanced at him. “You haven't left yet?”

“Nope. I was hoping you could tell me where your sister is. So I can apologize.”

“Well, you're shit out of luck.”

“What do you mean?” Todd asked. “You can't just tell me I can't see her.”

“I can,” Wade said, “because she's not here.”

Todd stood up carefully, keeping out of range of Wade's fists. “Where is she? I'll go find her.”

“She's gone. She drove up to Reno last night, and got on a plane this morning.”

“A plane? But her testimony isn't for a couple more days.”

“She's stopping off in a few places first. For job interviews.”

“Interviews?” He had to stop parroting Wade's words—he sounded like an even bigger fool. “I don't get it.”

“You think she wants to stay around here anymore? Now that you two have called it off? She's got an interview in Denver and another in Missoula. Then she'll fly out to DC from there.”

She was leaving. For good. “I'm sorry to hear it.”

Wade glared at him. “Not as sorry as I am. Do you know long it took me to talk her into moving back here?”

“I can imagine.”

“I don't think you can.” Wade's fists curled in outrage and Todd watched them warily. “Nora stood up to so much growing up here. Our dad picked on her constantly, because he knew she was so much better than the rest of us—so much smarter, so much more upright. It made him crazy. He'd try to corrupt her. He'd even order her to go out with him and help him with some petty crime or other. She always refused, even when he hit her.”

Bile rose in the back of Todd's throat. The thought of someone hurting Nora had a red haze coming over his vision. “I didn't know.”

“You never asked. She's not one to talk about herself. She just does what needs to be done.”

Todd nodded. It was a good description of her. “I know you don't believe this,” he told Wade, taking another step back, just in case. “But I love your sister. I want to be with her.”

“You don't deserve her.”

“I know that.” He saw surprise in Wade's eyes at his easy agreement. “But I promise you, if she'll give me another chance, I will work incredibly hard to deserve her every day.”

Wade studied him for a long moment, hammer disconcertingly poised. “General Schwarzkopf had a saying. Something like, ‘You know the right thing to do. The hard part is doing it.'
Seems as though maybe he was talking about guys like you when he said that.”

“What do you mean?”

Wade pointed the hammer at him. “Look. You want to save the horses? Then, throw everything you have at it. Hasn't it occurred to you that you can testify if you want? Just call your dad. He's got connections all over Congress, I bet. He could probably snap his fingers and get you a seat on that panel.”

Todd gaped at him. “He's not going to help me with a cause like this.”

“Have you asked him?” Wade shook his head in disgust and answered the question himself. “Of course not. Because you're afraid to. Because you're pissed at him. Because you have different ideas about how to run the family business.”

“It's not that simple,” Todd protested.

“Really? Last I heard we owned these great inventions called telephones. Seems simple enough to me.” Wade walked over to his pile of boards and grabbed one. Then he turned back to Todd. “Do you have any idea how much I would like to have a father like yours? One whose only problem is that he cuts down too many trees?”

Todd stared at him, totally confused. “Wait, what exactly are we talking about here?”

“We're talking about the fact that your parents fed you and clothed you and gave you nice things and took you places. I'm not saying you have to devote your life to chopping down forests with them—but to let years go by without talking? When you had two parents who actually
cared
?” Wade shoved his board against the wall and started hammering it furiously.

Todd tried to absorb his words. The guy was insightful. He tried to clear the lump growing in his throat. “I will make this right, however I can. If Nora doesn't want to be with me, I'll find a way to live with that. But I have to try to win her back.”

“Right now, I honestly don't know if I want you to be successful, but I can see that you mean what you're saying. So good luck.”

Todd looked at the man who in some ways already felt like a brother. “I appreciate that, Wade, I really do. And I hope to make it up to you, too.”

“Don't make my sister cry anymore, for a start.”

“I'll do my best.” He turned and headed back to his truck. It was one thing to make promises to Wade, to talk about how he was going to get Nora back. In reality, he had no idea how he would make it happen. But he knew he needed to do something big, something she'd be proud of. Something to right all the wrong between them.

* * *

I
F
N
ORA
'
S
COMPUTER
screen had a voice, it would be laughing at her right now. If it had a tongue, it would be sticking it out. Because every sentence Nora typed for the written portion of her testimony felt wrong. Not intelligent enough to submit to a congressional hearing. False and shallow. And the more time that went by, the more the blank white expanse of her empty document seemed to mock her.

She clicked over to the slides she'd created, showing historical and current native plant populations. Plant density. Plant health. Photos of native plants trampled into hoof-print-shaped blobs. It was all there; she just needed to write it down and say it.

She'd only get about five minutes to present her findings. Her testimony would be over before she knew it.

But her mind wouldn't stick to her work. Instead, it wandered back to memories of the captured horses, so lethargic and miserable in their corral. To the herd still wild and content out in White Rock Canyon. How long until the helicopters came for them, too?

And, despite her best efforts, her mind went to Todd. Todd laughing that day they'd hiked out to see the horses. Todd trying to describe what wild horses meant to him. Why he was so committed to their preservation.

She hated to admit it, but he was right. It was impossible to explain what was happening to the native plants without telling the horses' entire story. Of all the ways their range was being chipped away, until they simply didn't have the acreage they needed for their food supply.

Her supervisors at the DRM wanted her to make a presentation that was black-and-white. Scientific facts. Data boxed into neat little charts. And before she'd reunited with Todd, she'd been the perfect person for that job. But he'd changed her. He'd taught her to see all the places where data escaped the boxes and connected with real-world events. Her charts and isolated facts just didn't work when it came to the wild horses.

She clicked back to the blank Word document, but its emptiness no longer mocked her. There was a story here that needed to be told. A story filled with gray areas and politics and complications. The real story of why the native plants were disappearing from the mustangs' range.

* * *

I
T
HAD
TAKEN
Todd three hours of staring at the horses in White Rock Canyon before the answers came. Three hours of sitting on the same flat rock where he'd sat with Nora just a few weeks ago.

He'd watched the stallion sniff the wind when he'd come up the path, and eye him when he sat down. But after a while the big white horse had gone back to nibbling on the sparse grass, raising his head every few minutes to let Todd know that he was still aware of him.

Todd watched the colt amble back and forth. The little guy wasn't bothering his mother for milk anymore. He must have gotten the message that his nursing days were over. Instead, he was jumping and prancing, kicking at another older colt. One who would tolerate the play up to a point and then chase him away.

He loved these animals. They touched something deep in his soul that nothing else had. Maybe it was their wildness, and the way they survived against the odds in such an unforgiving landscape. Or maybe it was how intelligent and sweet the ones he'd adopted had proved to be. Regardless of the reason, he wanted them to be okay.

They were his calling. Which meant he had to find a way to make it okay.

He thought of Nora. She could teach him a lot about having a calling—protecting Wade had been hers. And she took it seriously enough to give up her dreams to care for her little brother when he'd been having a rough time in high school. She'd sacrificed for him again when he'd left the army and needed her help with the ranch. And she'd never complained or expected anyone else to make those sacrifices for her.

He had to act like Nora would—do what needed to be done without complaining or whining about it. And right now that meant picking up the phone and making peace with his family.

He should have done it a long time ago. Compared to someone like Nora, he had so much to be grateful for. He'd let his disgust in the family business color everything about his parents in black-and-white. It was strange that Nora had been the one to help him see the shades of gray.

But would his dad help him? Maybe, if Todd tried a little of the gratitude Wade had suggested. But his dad drove a hard bargain. Nothing came free with him—he'd call in whatever favors he felt that Todd might owe him. But it would be worth it for the chance to testify.

He certainly wasn't expecting a warm and fuzzy reunion. His dad had made his low opinion of Todd's choices crystal clear when he'd resigned from the family company. But he'd make the call. The only thing he had to lose was pride, and after the way he'd treated Nora, he didn't have much of that left anyway.