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Authors: Joanie Bruce

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A Memory Worth Dying For (22 page)

BOOK: A Memory Worth Dying For
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FORTY

A FEW DAYS LATER, PRINCESS
jumped into the bed with Marti and began kneading the blanket beside her. Marti jolted awake and sat up in bed, absentmindedly reaching over to stroke the cat’s soft fur.

The pounding in her temples reminded Marti why four hours of sleep a night was not enough. Rubbing her head, she got out of bed and walked into the studio. The morning light angled across the room and touched the edge of two portraits sitting on the easel. Daniel’s portrait was almost done—just a few last minute highlights. The other project, a surprise for Gerald, still required work but was close to being completed also.

After the intruder broke into her room, sleeping every night was almost impossible. As soon as the sun went down, the darkness made its way into her bones, and closing her eyes was terrifying. So she painted into the wee hours of the morning until the first light touched the edges of the mountains and bathed the lake with fog. Then, while the rest of the ranch awakened and started on chores, she crashed in bed until the bright light of the sun sneaking around the edges of the curtains woke her.

Marti stood back and stared at the picture, making a mental note of the changes she needed to make on the skin of the face. Gerald had been kind to her, and she wanted to give something back when she left . . . hopefully soon. Daniel showed no signs allowing himself to accept any kind of bond between them; instead, he seemed more determined than ever to go through with this wedding to Veronica. Gerald’s plan hadn’t worked. It was best that she leave and try to salvage the rest of her future—without Daniel. She had to accept the fact. Daniel wasn’t meant for her. She would finish Daniel’s painting to keep her promise to Gerald, and then she’d wipe the dust of Carson, Texas, from her feet and never look back.

She moved Princess to the foot of the bed and pulled the comforter back over the pillows. She dressed in five minutes flat before she returned to the studio.

Her hands flew as she worked fast and furious—trying hard not to think about Daniel. She hadn’t seen him since the canoe trip, but his kiss was on her mind constantly.

The last two mornings, Veronica drove up in her sporty BMW convertible and took him off to who knows where. Yesterday, they went to a rodeo in the next county and returned late in the evening. She thought she heard Anita say they were going shopping for the wedding today. The word
wedding
spread a chill through her bones. What was worse than hearing the word was knowing she could do nothing about it.

She stepped back to critique her work and picked up her filbert brush. After blending the shadows on one side of the face, she put down the larger brush and picked up a detail brush. She blended in a tiny stroke of white highlight on the tip of the nose in the painting, and then she stood back. That one little spot of white paint made the nose pop off the page and looked totally three dimensional.
Wow
! It still amazed her that a tiny bit of paint on a flat surface could make something look so round and so real.

She was rinsing out her brush when someone knocked on the door. “Marti? May I come in?”

“Just a minute.” She quickly hid the one painting behind a blank canvas and propped Daniel’s painting on the easel.

“Come in.”

Gerald stuck his head around the door. “Can I take a peek?”

Marti smiled. Gerald’s eyes sparkled like a child waiting expectantly for a trip to Disneyland.

She waved him in. “Certainly. It’s almost done.”

Gerald walked around the easel and stood in silence. His mouth dropped open. He glanced briefly at Marti before looking back at the painting.

“Marti! I’m speechless. They told me you were good, but I had no idea how good. I’m shocked. This looks exactly like Daniel. I can even see his character and personality in the eyes. Oh, Marti. I love it.” His voice broke and she saw tears in his eyes. “I just wish . . .”

Marti went to him then and gave him a hug. “One thing you reminded me when I came here,
Dad
, was to trust God. We have to believe that no matter what happens, God allows it in our lives. There’s a verse that my friend in Tennessee reminded me of—Romans chapter eight, verse twenty-eight. It says—”

Gerald’s voice interrupted her. “‘All things work together for good to them that love God.’ Yes, Marti, I know that verse, and it’s true. We have to keep trusting—no matter what happens.”

He gave her another hug. “And, I love hearing you call me
Dad
. I never appreciated that when you were here before, but it’s like music to my ears now. Thank you.”

She smiled at him—a sad smile but one filled with emotion. “You’re a good man, Gerald. Hashtag: Dad.”

“I’ve heard you use that word before. What does ‘hashtag’ mean?”

She smiled. “Never mind.” If Gerald still owned a cassette player, a dot-matrix printer, and a VCR, he’d never understand about Twitter.

“Gerald, I’m almost done with the painting, and I . . .”

A panicked look filled Gerald’s eyes, and they shifted all around the room. “Hey, I came in to ask you two things,” he said as a deliberate interruption.

“What?”

“First of all, I usually go to church on Sundays, and I wondered if you’d like to come with me tomorrow. I’m the only one who goes, and I thought it’d be nice if I had some company for a change.”

Marti smiled. “I miss going to church. That’s tempting. Is Pastor Sammons still there?”

“Yep, and he still preaches a mean sermon.”

Marti laughed. “I’d love to go see him again. I’ll think about going. Thanks for inviting me. And the second thing?”

Gerald sat down on a wooden stool she used for Daniel’s photography session. “Right before Daniel signed up for the Special Forces, I sent an investigator to find you . . . to see if you were okay.”

“You did?” Marti was stunned.

Gerald nodded. “Even before I accepted God into my life, Marti, my attitude toward you changed. I realized what a sweet daughter-in-law you’d been. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but . . . I missed you.”

Tears filled Marti’s eyes, but she blinked them away quickly.

Gerald cleared his throat and spoke with a scratchy voice. “Brady never caught up with you for a long time, but he found a ranch where you’d been a few weeks before. He said you’d been working at a dude ranch in Oklahoma—breaking
wild
horses.” Gerald hid a smile by rubbing his mouth.

Marti straightened up, embarrassed. “It wasn’t like you think.”


Hmm
, that’s what I heard eventually, but I had to admit, his first report was unbelievable.”

“I imagine so.”

They both laughed.

“After his report from Oklahoma, Brady said he lost you, and he didn’t find you again until last year.”

“Yeah, the man chasing me was always one step behind me. I had to keep moving.”

Gerald nodded. “Brady told me you had an unusual way of breaking horses at this ranch in Oklahoma and that the owners hated to see you leave.”

Marti nodded excitedly. “Yeah. An Indian passing through the area worked on a neighboring ranch for a couple of weeks. Mostly what I did was muck out stalls, but at night, I’d go to the next farm and watch him break horses the Indian way. Before long I combined the technique with some ideas I had and was training horses myself. I use a much gentler approach than the old-fashioned way. It teaches the horse to trust humans and not be afraid, no matter what we do to them.”

“That’s what Brady said. Do you think you could teach us how?”

Marti shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

“Why? Because you don’t want to stay around with Daniel, or because you don’t want to teach us your secret?”

She felt about an inch high. “Maybe a little of both.”

“Marti, you remember how Daniel despised jumping on a green horse and riding him until either the horse’s spirit broke or Daniel’s did?”

Marti smiled. “I remember. He hated it. He said it didn’t agree with his backside, and sometimes it broke the horse’s spirit.”

Gerald laughed. “Yep. That’s what he said, all right.” He paused. “Well, he’s improved his technique in different ways since you were here, but it only works with horses that are already used to being handled. We have a bunch of horses that need breaking, and they’re pretty wild.”

An incredulous stare widened her eyes. “Daniel’s colts were never wild.”

Gerald shrugged. “He bought these colts from a man in Arizona. The bloodlines were excellent, but the owner was too old to deal with them, so he left the colts in the pasture with the mares. You know what that means. Some of these three-year-olds had never been handled until we brought them here”

“That’s awful. Daniel was a firm believer of handling them from birth so they were easier to train.”

“Yep. And I’m afraid these colts are going to be hard to break. That’s why I thought your technique might be easier on both the man and the beast.”

Marti smiled. She could see how much this meant to Gerald, so she pushed herself to give it a try.

“Won’t Daniel be upset when he finds out?”

“He’s not here today. Veronica toted him off somewhere . . . again.” Gerald frowned, and under his breath he grumbled, “That’s happening a lot lately.”

Marti didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

“Well, what do you think, Marti? Wanna give it a try?”

Marti heaved a loud sigh, trying to put thoughts out of her head and concentrate. “I’ll try to help, but it’s been a while since I’ve even been around horses, especially wild ones. And, I’m afraid I might mess things up. Daniel will be mad when he finds out.”

“Let me worry about Daniel, okay? Come on. I asked Max to help us. We can work in the new arena—less distractions there.”

Gerald had a spring in his step, and Marti was glad she agreed to help. As they walked, he turned to her and asked, “Now, tell me about this technique.”

“Well, I’m sure you know that horses are herd animals. They have a strong instinct to be with other horses. In the herd, the leader is usually the one who is most dominant—the one who watches out for the others. In order for us to break a horse, we have to show him we’re the boss.”

Excitement bled through her voice as she explained how the Indian herdsman taught her the instincts and thoughts of a horse. She had forgotten how exciting breaking horses in this way could be.

When Marti stepped into the new building, she noted how clean and new everything looked. Two rings were in the center of the building—a large one for horse shows and training, and a smaller one for displaying horses to buyers. The ground in both rings was covered with sawdust. Elevated sets of bleachers for visitors stretched across both sides of the building. Marti inhaled the familiar aromas and sighed in satisfaction.

Gerald led her to the smaller ring. “Now, give me a list of what you need?”

“Are the horses used to wearing a bit?”

“Yep. Daniel’s been working with them so they’re used to a halter, bridle, and bit. They also know how to obey commands while on the lead.”

“Great. That will help. I need a couple of coils of rope, an old saddle blanket and saddle, a lead rope, a snaffle bit, and bridle. And horse treats, if you have them.”

Max walked into the arena carrying everything she mentioned. “I got it already, Mr. Gerald.”

Marti laughed as Gerald helped Max with the saddle and blanket. He slung them up over the ring fence.

“How did you know I was going to say yes, Max?”

“I know you, Mrs. Marti, and I knew you’d say yes. You’re just plumb kindhearted. Should I bring in Midnight now?”

A tingly feeling traveled through Marti’s stomach. She hadn’t trained horses in a long time. Did she remember how?

“I guess I’m ready if you are.”

Max came into the barn leading a black horse by a lead rope. Marti let the horse smell her hand then patted him on the head. “Good boy, Midnight. You and I are going to get along just fine.” She led him into the smaller ring, unhooked the lead rope, and let the horse go. The young stallion immediately took off at a run, only to stop at the fence then pranced nervously around the circumference.

Marti talked to him softly and then picked up two pieces of coiled rope hanging on the fence.

“Here we go,” she whispered to herself more than to the horse. “Here we go.”

FORTY-ONE

DANIEL WALKED TOWARD THE BARN
and heard a horse snorting in the new arena.

“What’s going on in there?”

He changed his direction and turned toward the building. When he walked through the open door, he was shocked to see Marti in the small ring with one of the colts running around the circumference of the ring. His father and Max both stood watching on the bottom seat of the bleachers. Daniel said nothing but climbed up three rows of bleachers. Taking a seat, he gawked at what was happening.

Marti held two coils of rope—one in each hand. He watched as she raised a coil in front of the horse and turned the colt in the other direction. The horse’s eyes were wide and a little wild. He recognized Midnight—one of the more skittish three-year-olds.

Every time the horse turned in one direction to get away from Marti, a coil of rope was waved in his face on the other side of the ring, and he spun in the other direction.

“What’s she doing?” Daniel whispered to himself.

“Daniel.” Daniel was so astonished to find Marti working with a horse that he hadn’t noticed his father move over beside him.

“What’s she doing, Dad?” He watched her jump in front of the horse. “She’s going to get hurt.”

“I think you’ll find she knows what she’s doing, Daniel. She’s using the instincts of the horse to train him. In the wild, if the dominant mare decides a colt is misbehaving, she runs the colt out of the herd and won’t let him come back. That shows the young horse that she’s in charge. Marti’s showing Midnight that she’s the boss.”

“But these horses aren’t wild, Dad—they’re just not used to being handled.”

“I think all horses have the same instincts, Daniel. Let’s wait and see.”

Finally, after being turned many times in the opposite direction, Midnight stopped and snorted, breathing hard. He stood still and watched Marti warily.

BOOK: A Memory Worth Dying For
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