Promise Canyon
Page 40

Jack shrugged. "You wouldn't have left me down there. Even if you don't much like the way I manage the town money. Now, before we leave, we gotta put up some blinkers or something around this soft shoulder. Paul, you bring anything?"
"Do I look like just another pretty face?" he asked with a grin. Then he proceeded to set up road construction blinkers around the soft shoulder, closing off one lane.
Jack was shaking his head thoughtfully. "We gotta get this taken care of."
Seventeen
Lilly took Blue Rhapsody up a narrow trail into the foothills. They reached a plateau from which she could see the entire valley below. She was so happy to be on this horse again, so relieved to feel that even if she didn't have a future with Clay, she'd manage to have a future with Blue. It was one of the best days of her life when she stumbled on that horse. And if she wasn't mistaken, Blue was thrilled to be with her again, too.
They'd been out for over an hour and the sun was lowering over the western mountains. It was breathtaking. The air was cool, the leaves in glorious fall splendor and the sky clear except for those few puffy white clouds along the coast, turning the setting sun pink.
Once she'd wrapped her head around the idea of talking to Clay and listening to him, things had begun to look better. From a new perspective it seemed pretty simple--they would either come to an understanding and move forward or they would learn they weren't meant to be. If it was the latter, would she cry? Feel hurt? Absolutely! Would it kill her? Keep her from her horse? Not a chance! Lilly was nervous about the confrontation, but she was determined. She was no longer a pitiful little girl.
She turned Blue back toward the clinic; surely Clay would have returned by now. She wanted to get off the plateau and down the narrow trail before it was almost dark.
The horse began to dance a little beneath her. "Easy, my love," she said gently, taking a firmer hold on the reins, tightening her knees. The horse relaxed, but in a moment she danced again. Just ahead a small flock of birds shot out of a bush and Blue shied again. "Birds, baby. Nothing but birds."
The horse was spooked; she threw her head, fighting the bit, and bounced on her front legs. Blue never acted like this! She was the calmest horse in the stable. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lilly said. She looked around for something that frightened the horse, something she hadn't seen yet, a snake or small animal, but she saw nothing. These nervous reactions went on every few moments. "Okay, it's okay, we're heading home," Lilly said. "No more acting up... Shhh. Shhh."
Lilly calmed the mare and continued down the trail. It wasn't too narrow and was made up of a series of switchbacks on the way down so if Blue was skittish, they'd still manage. They'd barely begun their descent when she noticed a white plastic grocery sack stuck to a bush and fluttering in the breeze just ahead of them. "Easy, easy," she said softly, using her legs and a calm but firm grasp of the reins.
It all happened at once. Lilly felt a shaking travel up the legs of her mount; what sounded like a distant rumble accompanied the vibration and the horizon seemed to blur. Blue began to dance backward, away, rearing slightly. At that moment a brisk gust of cool wind snapped that plastic bag off the bush and sent it flying right past Blue. The horse took a fright, whinnied and reared suddenly, unsteadily, throwing Lilly off her back.
Lilly hit the shaking ground with an ooomph! She bounced! She rolled away from the horse as quickly as she could to avoid getting trampled and in doing so rolled to the edge of the trail. Blue had trouble getting her footing and Lilly went off the edge and down the hill. She grabbed at a thorny shrub as she rolled by it, cutting her hands, but she couldn't hold on.
While the ground shook violently, she heard her horse scream in fear and take off like a shot, running from whatever danger there was.
And Lilly rolled out of control down the hill, her head bouncing off rocks, until she came to a stop against a big, thick, unforgiving tree trunk. She lay there, still, while the ground shook and gradually calmed beneath her.
Although she was banged up, her hands bleeding, and she had a big knot on her head, her first concern was Blue. If the horse lost her footing on that trail and fell down the hill she could break bones. And for a horse that could be catastrophic.
She started to make her way up the hill on her hands and knees, pulling with her injured hands on a tree or shrub here, bracing a foot against a rock or tree there. Even though it wasn't a real steep hill, her progress was very slow. It had been a long time since she'd been thrown. Her whole body hurt, though nothing seemed broken. By the time she got to the trail at the top, not even a puff of dust from her horse remained. Blue could be in Arizona by the time she stopped being terrified of the moving earth and the ghostly white bag.
The sun was lowering behind the western mountains. The temperature was already dropping. And it was a long damn walk back to the stable.
"Crap," she said. "If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have no luck at all!"
Clay had returned from the coffee shop to the clinic by 4:00 p.m., before the earthquake hit. They kept a very strict feeding schedule, but one of the first things he noticed was that Lilly's Jeep was there. His chest immediately swelled with hope that must have shown all over his face. When he found Annie in the barn the first thing she said was, "She took Blue out for a ride and will be back before long. She wants to talk to you. I hope you can make things right with her."
"I hope so, too, Annie, and I'll try. Because I love her, too."
"The last few days have been torture," Annie said, "I don't know all the details about what happened with you two, but she said you made her crazy."
He smiled. "Is that so? Well, she did her part to make me crazy, too. I went to see Dane. He helped me as much as he could without completely betraying her trust."
"Good for you," Annie said with a slight smile. "You're going to fight for her!"
"Of course I am, though she hasn't made it real easy. When do you think she'll be back in?"
"I thought by now--she knows we feed on a schedule. Soon, I would expect."
"Do you know where she went?"
"She just said she was going out on the trail. I assume one of the ones that lead around the back pasture and into the foothills, but she didn't say. You're going to hang around and wait, aren't you?"
"Absolutely," he said. "I'll finish up with these horses and turn them out. I know you want to get to the house and draw Nathaniel's bath and chill his beer mug while he lounges around tonight." Then he grinned. "Go ahead. Leave Lilly to me."
"Cute," she said, turning to go. Then she turned back and said, "Try to do something productive tonight, like get our girlfriend back!"
She was already gone when he said, "I'll do all I can."
Gabe had football practice and wasn't coming to the stable today, so Clay busied himself cleaning stalls, sweeping out an already swept barn, even organizing the tack room, waiting. He frequently looked out the back doors and down the road that led around the east pasture. The sun was setting earlier and earlier now that fall was full on the land and by five-thirty it was turning to dusk.
Then he noticed the horses in the stalls getting restless; in the paddock where they kept him, Streak started dancing around. Out in the back pasture a flock of birds bolted out of the tall grass and flew off. There was an uneasy feeling in Clay's gut that he was getting from the animals. Something wasn't right.
Then he felt a vibration that turned into a rumble that became a wave beneath his feet, almost toppling him to the ground. He steadied himself in the frame of the tack room door while he watched equipment fall off the wall hooks and tools and small appliances dance across the countertop and crash to the floor. The hanging light from the ceiling swayed. He could hear the horses that were inside crying out and kicking at their stalls; he could feel Streak's terror as he tried to run, his gait awkward and legs spreading in a crazy effort to stay balanced.
Whoa, Clay thought. This is a big one. He looked at his watch and saw the second hand move around the face--a big one that lasted a long time.
He was no expert, but either this was bigger than the last one at 5.5 or the epicenter was right beneath them. It seemed as if a long time passed before things stopped moving and falling to the floor and the ground stopped rolling, but as was typical with earthquakes, it upset the balance enough so that walking seemed uneven and wobbly even after it had passed. Clay's first thought was that if a human who had the capacity to understand what was going on felt that way, how must the animals feel?
And where was Lilly during this?
Within a few moments, Annie was in the barn. "Clay! Everything all right out here?"
"Minor damage, stuff to clean up. As far as I can tell, no structural problems." He looked around the ceiling of the barn. "That wasn't little. How about in the house?"
"A little glass breakage, but almost everything was put away in cupboards so it's minor. How are the animals?"
"Upset. The best thing to do is leave them in the pastures. They get a little freaked out in a stall, ground moving and all."
"Clay..." Annie attempted.
"She'll come right back now," he said, as if saying it could make it happen.
An hour later, after two very minor aftershocks, Clay was saddling Streak and speaking to him softly. "I know you're a little upset, but I think we'd better go find your girl. I'm going to need you--you seem to gravitate to her and if anyone can--"
"Clay, let's leave Streak in the pasture and take the quads out," Nathaniel said from behind him.
"Quads won't work on the narrow trails where she might be, or on the downhill paths or overgrowth. You and Annie take out quads if you want to. It's almost dark and I'm not leaving her out there in the dark."
"Isn't Streak a little jumpy for this job?"
"He is, but I can handle him now," Clay said. "And he loves her. Have you seen him with Lilly? He loves her." I love her, Clay thought. If there's a God, I'm going to find her and we're going to talk about the mess we're in and make sure it never happens again!
"I'm not sure this is safe," Nathaniel said to his back as Clay tightened the cinch.
"Then shoot me in the back--that's the only way you'll stop me."
Clay went into the tack room and came out with an extra blanket, an industrial-size flashlight, rope, a couple of bottled waters and some protein bars to fill the saddlebag. He pulled on his heavily lined denim jacket and was leading Streak out of the barn doors when the sound of hooves stopped him. Nate came up to his side and they both saw Blue Rhapsody running down the road beside the east pasture, headed for the clinic barn. She was saddled. And riderless.
"Shit," Nathaniel said.
Clay put a foot in the stirrup and mounted Streak. "Call rescue. They're probably getting a million calls and are too busy for us, but call anyway. Then go out on the quads. Take blankets and water--it's cold tonight." And then he urged Streak forward. He went out of the front of the barn and down the road that Blue had just returned on.
Nathaniel let the mare into the round pen as Clay and Streak galloped down the road and away.
Clay looked at his illuminated watch; at almost eight it was dark and cold out. He wouldn't just get lucky and find her on one of the trails in the valley that Annie used for her new, young riders. He shouldn't have wasted his time--Lilly would have taken the horse onto more challenging trails. So he decided to head northeast, shining the flashlight on the trail ahead of him, scanning the sides of the trail for an unseated rider as he went. He called her name in case she was huddled in some rocky crevice or within some bushy growth to keep warm.
He'd been searching for a couple of hours when he saw her coming down the road. He shone the flashlight on her, then kicked Streak into a gallop. He stopped the colt on a dime in front of her and dismounted. She had a big goose egg on her head, grass and leaves in her hair, a large, unfashionable tear in one thigh of her jeans... and a scowl on her face.