Robyn Carr - Promise Canyon

While Lilly was on her way to her little rented house at the edge of Fortuna, she realized she’d have to go back to that pasture. She needed to know if the horse was there alone, if she was hurting, if she was sick, if she was. Her mind couldn’t form the word dead. She needed closure. And if Nathaniel and Clay had left her alone, Lilly would be the one to stay with her until she was either recovered or. Again, she couldn’t allow certain potential outcomes to enter her mind.

But when she did allow her mind to go that far, she knew that if the horse had to be put down, Lilly would stroke her head and send her off with loving words.

By the time she got home, fixed herself a portobello, cheese, pepper and tomato sandwich and wrapped it, a couple of hours had passed since she’d first found the horse. She grabbed a bag of soy nuts and almonds, a bottle of apple juice and one of water. Then she dug through the detached garage for an old sleeping bag that smelled vaguely of storage. If the horse didn’t have serious digestion problems, she’d have taken a few carrots and a couple of apples, but the mare would be off food for the time being.

It was almost seven by the time she was back on the road, seven-thirty by the time she approached the place she’d found the mare. It was August; the sun was just lowering in the west. Because of the tall trees it darkened a bit earlier here than on the Pacific Coast. She was shocked to see that not only were the truck and trailer still there, but surrounded by reflective, triangular collapsible cones to notify any other vehicles that might come along after dark.

Lilly pulled up in front of the pickup and got out, leaving her food behind. It was already dusk, but she could see Clay walking the horse in a wide circle around the pasture. She remembered from her horse days in childhood that was one of the treatments for colic, a little walking. Not too much; a safe and moderate amount. She didn’t see Dr. Jensen.

She jumped the fence to get in the pasture. Soon enough he came toward her, leading the mare. “You’re back,” he said. “Need something?”

“Yes,” Lilly answered, “I need to know if she’s going to be all right.”

“She’s hanging in there. She needs a little time.”

“She’s not getting worse, is she?”

“Nope, she’s doing fine. But she’s pumped full of Banamine and it’s a waiting game to see if the treatment worked for her. She’s still stressed. She’s still pawing and stretching out. This is an unhappy lady here. Is that the only reason you’re here?”

Lilly shrugged and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I was afraid you’d leave her and she’d be. I didn’t want her to be alone. In case … Well, in case she got a lot worse.”

“Lilly,” he said, bending a little until their eyes connected. “I wouldn’t leave a sick animal unless I had to. I’ll see it through. You don’t have to worry.” He straightened. “Those blue eyes really freak me out.”

She grinned at him. “Freaked out my grandfather, too.”

“I’ll bet the old Hopi just about passed out.”

“Well, since you have to have the blue DNA on both sides and he thinks both himself and my grandma are a hundred percent Native, it means there was a bad pilgrim back there somewhere.” She smiled brightly. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet,” he said.

“Would you like half a sandwich?”

He lifted one expressive brow. “Whatcha got?”

“Mushroom, tomato, peppers and cheese. On wheat.”

He grimaced. “I was promised a welcome dinner of pot roast,” he informed her.

She smiled lazily. “Do they deliver?”

“I sincerely hope so, but it’s more likely there will be leftovers. Annie came to fetch Nathaniel home and I offered to stay on, but I think I’m going to be able to take the horse back to the clinic before too much—”

Right then the horse decided to stretch out again to ease her abdominal pain.

“You’re going to take her to Nathaniel’s?”

“Lilly, it’s for the convenience of dealing with her condition, not to give her a new home. Nate didn’t want to transport her until she was more stable and I think we’re just about there, but that doesn’t guarantee her recovery. If she doesn’t improve, he won’t let her go on like this, in pain.”

“I understand.”

“What were you going to do out here at night?”

“I don’t know. Eat my sandwich. Be with her, I guess.”

He tilted his head. “Do you have horses?”

She shook her head. “Never have, but when I was real young I rode some. Well, it’s been a long time, but when I was a kid, I was surrounded by them. Back on the reservation. I’ve ridden with Annie a few times, but I’m not around horses much, just when I deliver their feed. Finding her like this, it kind of made me responsible in a way. At least for making sure she wasn’t alone.”

“It could be midnight before she’s either better, worse, ready to transport or …” He didn’t finish.

“I brought a jacket and a—” She felt silly about the sleeping bag. Did she really plan to lie on the ground next to a twisting, kicking horse through the night? Even in August, in the mountains or surrounded by them, it was cold after dark. “I’d be willing to share the sandwich,” she said. “Who knows, you might not get pot roast delivery for a long time.”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m taking a chance on a mushroom sandwich.”

“You might actually like it. Hey, you aren’t planning on leaving this horse in the pasture, are you? Because, if I remember, she can’t be grazing. Isn’t she off food?”

“I’m on top of it, Lilly. The barn and corral where she was kept—Nathaniel looked at it and it’s out of the question. It’s filthy, cluttered, the fence in poor condition. Once she takes a turn for the better, I’m going to take her to Nathaniel’s clinic. And until she’s feeling a lot better, believe me, I won’t let her graze. She’s miserable.”

“Yeah,” Lilly said, connecting with the mare’s eyes. “Be right back,” she said. She jogged toward her Jeep. With her hands on a fence post, she put one booted foot on the top barbed wire, pressed down and jumped over. Getting back over the fence was slightly more difficult—her hands were full of food and drink. “Bottled water or apple juice?” she asked him.

“You first,” he said. “I have a couple of warm colas in the truck.”

She smirked and handed him the apple juice. “This is much better for you. And hold these, please.”

“Nuts?” he asked.

“Also good for you, as is the half sandwich.”

“I don’t know ….”

“Be a big boy,” she said, and then thought, he is really such a big boy! But she kept her eyes cast down and opened the wrapping of her sandwich. She’d already cut it in half, thankfully. She put her water on the ground and traded with him—sandwich for bags of nuts. “Think she’ll let us sit down?” she asked.

Clay dropped the rope and backed away. “Better give her space. She isn’t thinking about her human friends right now. She could drop on you and grind you right into the pasture.”

Lilly followed him about ten feet away from the mare, then carefully sat. “I probably have a … a blanket or sleeping bag in the Jeep ….” She still couldn’t admit to planning to sleep beside a sick horse she had no real connection to.

“Yeah, me, too,” he said. “But the ground is dry enough.” Down he went, crossing his legs. “And so. We have a mushroom sandwich.”

“One of my favorites,” she said. “What brought you to Nate’s practice?” With the question, she bit into hers.

“I have family nearby. A married sister with a family in Grace Valley. And if you come from the mountains, the cold mountains at about seven thousand feet, Los Angeles County is a little low, hot and smoggy. Even out in the hills.”