Conall's Legacy (19 page)

He didn’t give up, you damned chicken
. She continued to chastise herself as she sat on the bed to pull on socks and boots.
He’s probably laughing at you right about now
.
Or shaking his head over the scaredy cat he sired
.

The second boot in place, Luisa looked up from the side of her bed and stared into his familiar face. Determination was behind his success. He had conquered his fears and ridden bulls. The toughest event a rodeo cowboy competed in, and he’d done it and won--big.

“Wish you’d given me some of those courage genes, Dad,” she said to the picture. “How’d you do it?”

One step at a time,
Chica Pequeña
, one step at a time
. It was so clear, Luisa wasn’t sure if she imagined it or actually heard her father’s voice. The words carried her back to her childhood when her father picked her up from the dirt, brushed her off, and set her on her horse after a fall.

She rose slowly to her feet and stood in front of the picture. “All right, Daddy. This one’s for you.” She gently touched her finger to his cheek. “And mama,” she added.

Luisa raised her chin and thrust back her shoulders. She sucked air into her lungs around the lump of nausea lodged in her throat. She deliberately used the phrase her father had used every time he nodded his head to signal his readiness to ride a new bull. “Let’s do it.”

Luisa headed for the kitchen. She wasn’t going to waste one more minute of the time she had left with her mother on worthless anxious thoughts.

When she walked to the coffee pot, she felt Marie’s gaze slide over her like a caress. Coffee in hand, Luisa walked to the table and looked at her mother. Worry lines etched Marie’s forehead and the corners of her mouth turned down.

“Are you all right, Mom? You look more tired than usual.”

“I’m fine, dear. I am worried about you. I heard you prowling around in there talking to yourself.”

Luisa smiled. “Actually, I was talking to Daddy.” She shrugged. “I do that sometimes.”

“So do I,” Marie said. “Comforting, isn’t it, even if he can’t hear us? Let’s go outside with our coffee. I want to soak up as much of this wonderful place as I can before I go back to the city.”

Luisa cocked her head to the side, considering the softening expression on her mother’s face. “I thought you hated it out here.”

“Living here year round is different from visiting. Besides it wasn’t the place I ran from, but the fear of what it was doing to you.”

“All right then, come on.” Luisa led the way to the front porch. “You haven’t seen my prize bull have you?”

“No. We didn’t go back there.”

“Up for a slow stroll? He’s out behind the main barn.” Luisa said.

“Sure. I’d love to see him.”

For a moment Luisa could only stare at her mother. They had come so far in such a short time. Just a few days before, they had been virtual strangers. To come so far, just to lose her again. Luisa frowned, then forced it aside and plastered a smile on her face.

“Well, let’s go then.”

Luisa linked arms with her mother, and they strolled to the back of the huge old barn. Standing in the center of a six foot high pen was a magnificent crossbred Brahma bull. He stood, head high, surveying the scene like royalty. His body appeared to be one solid muscle. He was steel gray and a darker black-gray shaded his head and shoulders. Horns big enough to weigh down his head gave him a particularly menacing look.

“Oh my. I wouldn’t want to get in there with him. Look at those horns. He could grind a cowboy into the dirt with them.”

“Clown stickers,” Luisa said around a smile.

“What?”

“That’s what the bull fighters and rodeo clowns call them. And believe me, bulls can do almost as much damage with just their heads because they’re so massive.”

The bull lowered his head, pawed dirt into the air, and snorted, shaking those horns in their direction.

“Thinks he’s pretty special, doesn’t he?” Marie asked.

Luisa heard the laughter in her mother’s voice and was glad of it. “Yep. He is, too. Fear Factor. He’s a retired rodeo bull.”

“Sure doesn’t look like a man-killer standing there so peacefully.”

Luisa chuckled. “That may be, but you don’t want to go in there and try to pat him on the nose.”

“How do you handle him alone? What if he attacked your horse?”

Luisa nodded toward a long chute at the back of the pen. “See that? I open it and throw feed at the far end. Usually that’s enough to take him to the back pen, then I can clean this one or do what needs done. I have a man who comes once in a while to help with chores and during breeding season.” She shrugged. “It works out.”

“This bull confused me for a minute. I know you use the Long Horns for beef. Are you doing some cross breeding for better beef, too?”

“Not with him. I raise a few of his calves every year to sell to the rodeo stock companies. It brings in a pretty nice income for me.” Luisa hesitated and figured she might as well take a chance on rejection. What’s the worst that can happen? she thought.

“Mom, between the books, selling some beef and horses each year, I’m doing just fine. I don’t have a lot of money for things some people consider important, but I’m happy here. I have everything I need. I love this place, and I love my life. Won’t you stay and be a part of it for as long as you can?”

Luisa saw the struggle that crossed Marie’s features. Her mother frowned and adjusted the watch bracelet on her wrist, considering. Finally, she shook her head.

“There’s one thing you don’t have and that thing is priceless. Freedom.”

“But--”

Marie put her hand on Luisa’s arm. “Just listen to me. You have a lot more than most people will ever have living here, but it isn’t enough. Until you are living here completely by choice and not because you are afraid to live elsewhere, you will never be free.”

“Mom--”

“Luisa, look me in the eye and tell me honestly you are ready and eager to drive me to the airport.”

“Of course I don’t want to. I want you to stay.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” Her old no nonsense look was in place and Luisa couldn’t dismiss it.

Marie’s gaze locked with hers, and Luisa felt the power and determination of it.

“Tell me you weren’t pacing in your room like a caged cat because you have to drive to Tucson. Tell me when it is time, you’ll fly to LA with no regrets except for the reason for the trip.”

Silence throbbed between them as Luisa struggled to find something to say that would be the truth. Her throat thickened freezing her voice. Tears gathered in her eyes, and her chest constricted. She broke her mother’s gaze and fought to regain her composure.

“You’re right. I can’t leave easily, but I do. I’m doing just fine.”

“Are you, dear? What about the readings you miss doing for children at book signings? What about the horse shows you don’t compete in? The rodeos you miss?”

“I can get by without those things.” Luisa sighed. “Children still enjoy my books and the horses still sell. I enjoy riding here with just the horses and music for company.”

“All right. What about the more important events in your life like your best friend’s wedding or--my funeral?”

“Don’t talk that way,” Luisa pleaded.

“It’s reality. How will you feel if I need you, and you can’t come?”

“I
will
come. No matter what, Mother.”

It was Marie’s turn to sigh. “Yes, but why should it be so difficult. It’s time to take back your life, Luisa. Before it’s too late--like it is for me.”

Luisa’s heart stuttered. What could she say to her mother? What did you say to someone who knew she was dying? “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I regret so much of what I missed. I can’t get that back. I can only imagine what your childhood was like. Try to picture you going to rodeos with your father, competing in horse shows.” Marie sighed. “I wondered what it was like for you when the agoraphobia worsened and you couldn’t go any more.” Marie shook her head. “Good or bad, it all slipped by and I missed it. Moments every mother cherishes.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll never get them back.” Marie turned and walked toward the house with heavy steps.

Luisa watched her mother’s retreat and knew she should follow, but she needed a few minutes to take in everything her mother had said. Maybe it
was
time to take control, but how? She’d tried before, and it hadn’t worked. Well, she admitted, it had helped. She was better than she used to be about going off the ranch. But it never went completely away. What made Luisa think it would work now?

Disgusted, Luisa slapped her palm against her thigh. “Damn it all anyway.” Fear Factor looked her way at the sound, dismissing her as insignificant. Even he thinks you’re a big chicken, she thought. With a last glance at the bull, she followed her mother to the house. They had a drive to make.

Cindy came out of the house just as Luisa reached the porch. “Sleeping in, Cindy?”

“No. Just giving you two some time alone this morning. How are you doing?” Her look assessed Luisa until she practically squirmed.

“I wish people would stop asking me that,” she snapped. “First Mom and now you.”

“Hmm, grouchy. Classic sign of anxiety.” Cindy’s tone was teasing, but Luisa knew she was serious in spite of it.

“Look, I’m all right. Thanks for staying over and coming along, though. I’ll need a ride back after we drop her car.”

“I’m here for moral support, too.” Cindy looked toward the house. “How’s she doing?”

“Better than me.” Luisa took a deep breath. “I asked her again to stay, but she won’t. She’s gotten it into her head that I need to go there. That her funeral will get me back to LA for some reason.” Luisa nearly missed the flash of guilt that scurried across Cindy’s face as she turned to head for the house. Luisa stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You said something to her,” she accused.

Cindy sighed and pulled her sunglasses off. “That’s right, I did.”

“You’ve been going behind my back. What does it take to convince you people I’m just fine the way I am?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that we don’t see you living a normal life. As normal as it gets, anyway. We all want you to be happy.”

“I
am
happy, damn it! And I’m getting really tired of people assuming I’m not happy, because I don’t live the way they do.” Luisa spun away and slammed into the house, tired of hearing about how unhappy she was.

A short time later, Luisa loaded her mother’s luggage into the back of the rental car. No one had spoken much since Cindy’s arrival. Luisa recognized that her talk with her mom and then Cindy had distracted her from the journey, at least for a short time. Since she’d walked out of the house, her butterflies had turned into saddle broncs, and dozens bucked in her gut.

“I’ll follow you two in case you need me,” Cindy called out, “I mean for more than a ride home.” She stammered to a stop and looked pointedly at Luisa. “I have the cell phone if you need to talk to me.” She climbed behind the wheel of her car.

Luisa slid into her mother’s vehicle and fastened her seat belt with shaking hands. Marie looked over at her, concern reflected in her eyes.

“Are you all--”

“I’m fine. Stop asking me that--please.” Luisa pushed her hair back over her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. Let’s just turn on some quiet music and get this done.”

Luisa slid a CD of classical music she used for relaxation into the player. The sounds of an orchestra filled the car, soothing the anxiety vibrating within her.

Gripping the steering wheel with sweaty palms and white knuckles, Luisa sighed and leaned her forehead against the wheel.

“Luisa?”

“Just give me a minute, Mom.” She looked at her mother with pleading eyes. “Please?”

Marie nodded and sat quietly, apparently waiting for Luisa to fight her demons. Luisa looked through the windshield and saw Cindy pulled to the side of the drive, patiently waiting. Bless her, Luisa thought. What would she have done without Cindy all these years?

Luisa focused on her body. Her breaths came in shallow spurts, her heart raced and then skipped a beat, and sweat ran down her back in the air conditioned car. She concentrated on the techniques Cindy had taught her to allow her body to return to a calm level.

Fearful thoughts charged at her. As they assaulted her senses, she captured them, reframing the thoughts, and turning negatives to positives.

Finally, Luisa took a deep breath and forced her hand to close on the gear shift. She looked over at her mother. “Ready to go?”

Marie’s smile lit up her face. “You bet I am. Let’s do it.”

Noting that Marie used her father’s phrase, Luisa smiled briefly and then focused on driving past Cindy and out the gate, refusing to look back. Two miles of dirt road felt like two hundred. At the paved road, Luisa’s fear hit her between the eyes. You can do this, you can do this, she chanted in her mind. She glanced over to see Marie watching her with a thoughtful expression. She seemed to know that each bit of progress created another anxious moment for her.