FURever Bound

by Patricia Fry

  “Okay, talk to you later.”

  ****

  “So you’re going riding with Brianna today?” Michael asked two days later while the family was seated at the breakfast table. “Isn’t Wednesday the traditional doctor’s day off?”

  “Not this week,” Savannah said. “I guess Bri alternates between Wednesdays and Saturdays. And since she doesn’t play golf like most doctors, she opted for a horseback ride today.” She looked across the table at Michael. “She’s excited. In fact, she’d like to get a horse to keep at Bud’s.”

  “He has a couple of horses,” Michael reminded her.

  “Yes, but she wants her own—preferably a gelding. Someone told her to stay away from mares, because they can be flighty.” Savannah frowned. “Probably a man.”

  “What?” he questioned.

  “It was probably a man who told her that.”

  He smirked playfully at her, and Gladys laughed.

  “Where are you two going?” he asked.

  “She wants me to show her the trail to Iris’s house. I believe that if we go up and around the hill behind Iris’s tract, we can ride down into Bud’s family’s ranch. If that’s possible, when she gets her horse we can meet halfway and ride together.”

  “Savannah,” Michael scolded, “you know I don’t like you riding alone. Remember what happened when you rode alone out at the stables that time?”

  “Yes. I believe in the buddy system, too, but…”

  “But what?” he asked suspiciously.

  “But it’s not like I’d be in the wilderness. The trail runs right behind housing tracts and businesses, for the most part.”

  “Yeah, where degenerates can hide and jump out at you,” Michael cranked.

  “I don’t think that’s likely to happen in such a well-populated area. I don’t feel vulnerable riding through there. If I screamed, someone would hear me.”

  “But would they come to your aid?” Michael challenged. “You know how people are these days.”

  “Maybe some people,” Savannah agreed, “but certainly not all.” She pulled on her boots. “I have to say, I prefer to ride in the wilderness away from civilization, but it’s not a bad ride along that new route and, like I said, Bri wants to try it out.”

  Michael stared at her for a moment, then said, “I don’t think Bud would like Brianna riding alone, either. He’s pretty protective of your sister.”

  “We’re not riding alone,” Savannah insisted.

  “I know,” he said, “but if she had her own horse and you were to… Oh, you know what I’m saying.” He finished the last of his coffee and changed the subject. “When do you think those two will tie the knot?”

  “Good question,” Gladys said. “I’ve been wondering that myself. Have you heard about any wedding plans?”

  Savannah shook her head. “No. I’m not sure my sister’s the marrying kind.”

  “That’s what Bud’s afraid of,” Michael said.

  “He’s ready to get married, is he?” Gladys asked.

  “He sure is. He’s been hearing wedding bells for a long time.”

  “Well, he may never get to hear them at his own wedding,” Savannah said. “The engagement might be as far as he’ll get with her.”

  “Then she might have to look for another guy,” Michael said as if he were thinking out loud.

  That got Savannah’s attention. She studied his face, asking, “Do you really think so?”

  “Sure I do. Bud wants to settle down in a more traditional way with the woman he loves, not live precariously for the rest of his life with someone who has one foot on the running board.”

  Savannah laughed. “That’s one way to put it. But is that really true? Can’t someone be totally committed without going through the ceremony?”

  “Not in my view,” Gladys said. She clutched her hands under her chin. “Oh, I so hope she doesn’t go through life without ever experiencing the pure joy of marriage to the man she loves.” She looked more seriously at Savannah. “Do you suppose she doesn’t actually love Bud enough to marry him?” Before Savannah could respond, Gladys said, “Maybe he isn’t the one.”

  “Then why would she accept his engagement ring?” Michael asked.

  Gladys’s face lit up. “Right, Michael. Engagement certainly is a promise—a promise to marry. I guess I need to talk with my younger daughter.”

  “Mom…” Savannah warned.

  “Vannie, it’s been, what, almost a year since they became engaged and there has been no talk of a wedding. It’s time I had a mother-daughter chat with her.”

  “Oh my,” Savannah lamented.

  “What?” Gladys asked.

  “Oh, nothing. It’s just that I wouldn’t want to have that talk with my mother if I was dragging my feet about getting married.”

  “So you think that’s what she’s doing?” Gladys asked.

  “I really don’t know, Mom. We haven’t talked about it.”

  “Then I’m even more convinced that I need to sit down with her and...”

  Savannah interrupted when she looked out the window. “She’s here. Now no wedding talk, okay?”

  “Okay,” Gladys said. She winked at Savannah. “I’ll try to hold my tongue.”

  “Oh goodie,” Brianna said upon entering the Iveys’ kitchen, “everyone’s here—except one of the kidlets. Where’s my niece?” she demanded.

  “Hi, Auntie Bri!” Lily called, running into the room and grabbing Brianna around the knees. She took her aunt’s hand. “Come see my cake. Want some cake?”

  “Oh, well,” Brianna stuttered, “I guess.” She plucked Teddy from the high chair and followed after the toddler.

  When she returned with the children, she whispered, “It was pretend cake. Mmm, yummy.” She then said, “Okay, now that we’re all together, I have something to tell you.”

  “Oh?” Gladys said in anticipation.

  Brianna gazed at her mother. “Bud and I are…”

  “Yes?” Gladys prompted cheerfully, a wide smile on her face.

  Brianna frowned. “It’s not that exciting, Mom. It’s just that we want to have you all over Sunday after next for the friends-and-family luncheon.” When everyone looked at her, she explained, “Edith, Oma, and I are going to do the cooking. We’ll eat out under the shade of the old sycamore. It’ll be really nice, don’t you think so?”

  “Yeah, Sis, real nice,” Savannah said. “Tell Edith and Oma thank you for offering. What are you making?”

  “Something Dutch. Oma has a collection of family recipes, and we thought it would be fun to do something different and traditional—well, different for all of us. What do you think?

  Gladys nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Michael agreed.

  Savannah broke the silence that followed by saying, “Well, hey, we’d better get on the trail.” She play-punched Brianna. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Sure am. Been looking forward to it.” When Michael took Teddy from his sister-in-law, she reached out and hugged her mother, then stepped back and asked, “Mom, are you okay? You’re kind of quiet. Is something wrong?”

  “I’m okay,” Gladys said. “I just thought…”

  “You thought what?” Brianna asked.

  “Nothing,” Savannah insisted. “Nothing at all. Come on, let’s go have ourselves an adventure. She hugged Lily, then Teddy, kissed Michael, and said to Gladys, “I’ll be home early so I can make the salads for tomorrow. Now, don’t start without me.”

  Gladys chuckled. “I won’t. Have fun, girls.”

  “We will,” Savannah called as she ushered her sister out. “Which horse do you want to ride?” she asked as they approached the corrals.

  “What are my choices?”

  “Peaches or Gypsy.”

  “Oh, I guess I’ll take the Gypsy horse, since Peaches probably likes you better, anyway.”

  ****

  While they groomed and saddled the horses, the two women chatted about some of the children�
�s new skills, Brianna’s medical practice, and Savannah’s book-promotion activities, then Savannah said excitedly, “Oh, Bri, you should have been at Iris’s Wednesday night.”

  “Why?” Brianna asked. “What did I miss?”

  Off-handedly, Savannah said, “Oh, just a séance.”

  “A séance?” Brianna hissed. “For real? Why didn’t you call me? Who led it? Certainly not you or Iris. Give,” Brianna insisted, “and don’t leave anything out.”

  Chuckling, Savannah said, “Well, Iris thinks she has a ghost; did you know that?”

  “No!” Brianna shouted.

  “She thought it was a construction worker who went missing while they were building her house back in the seventies.”

  “She’s aware of it?” Brianna asked.

  “Yes. She says she’s been feeling something not of this world in that house since before they moved in there.”

  “Wow! So who led the séance?”

  “Rochelle,” Savannah said.

  “Of course,” Brianna said, smiling. “Oh, I wish I’d been there. Don’t forget to tell me the next time you do it. You will do it again, won’t you?”

  Savannah shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “So what happened? Did the guy come to the party?”

  Savannah shook her head. “No. Rochelle didn’t feel any male energy, but she did conjure up a woman.”

  “Conjured her up? You mean she tapped into her in the spirit world?”

  “I guess so.” Savannah motioned for Brianna to mount Gypsy and began adjusting the stirrups. “This spirit woman is supposedly looking for some guy named Abe. Rochelle thinks maybe he killed her or harmed someone she knows.”

  “Wowie-wow-wow!” Brianna muttered. “So who is she? When did she cross over?”

  “Her name might be Violet, but Rochelle says it’s hard to communicate about time with a ghost.”

  As the sisters launched out on their ride, Brianna called from behind, “So why would Iris think she’s being haunted by a construction worker?”

  “Iris’s neighbors are part of the Windham family—you know, the people who built her tract—and Florence Windham told Iris that a worker disappeared while building Iris’s and Craig’s house.” Savannah shook her head. “But, no. Rochelle didn’t hear from a male spirit, and that sure surprised Iris.” She laughed. “Iris really, really wants to be part of that world.”

  “What world?” Brianna asked.

  “You know, she wants to read people’s mind and talk to ghosts like Rochelle does, but she isn’t very good at it.”

  Brianna reminded her sister, “She sensed one in her house. I’d say that’s pretty darn good. With practice and opportunity, she might get up to par with Rochelle.”

  “Oh, would she love that,” Savannah said. She faced Brianna. “You’re kind of into that woo-woo stuff. Can you sense things like Rochelle does?”

  Brianna scrunched up her face, thinking, then said, “Yeah, I believe I’ve had a few ghostly encounters, but never planned ones. I’m not able to consciously communicate with an entity, or maybe it’s that I doubt what may be coming through. My experiences are more like impromptu, totally unexpected encounters in really strange places.”

  “Oh?” Savannah egged.

  When she realized her sister wanted to hear more, Brianna said, “Okay, there was this time in medical school.” She winced. “It was my first year, and I walked into a class early one day. I was early by design because I wanted to talk to the instructor—you know, about a personal matter. Professor Crain wasn’t in his room yet, so I sat down to wait. I opened one of my books to go over something and that’s when it happened.”

  “What?”

  “I became aware that I wasn’t actually alone. I looked around and didn’t see anyone, but I could sure feel him or her. As soon as the professor walked in, whatever or whoever it was went away.”

  Savannah said quietly, “It was probably Dad. Was it a comforting feeling?”

  Brianna’s eyes widened. “Actually, yes. That’s one thing I remember about the experience; I wasn’t afraid. I had been a little nervous about discussing the issue with the professor, but when that happened, my nerves settled down and our conversation went well.” Brianna tilted her head in her sister’s direction. “It never occurred to me it was Dad. Vannie, has Dad visited you like that?”

  “I’m beginning to believe it’s possible.” She thought about whether to reveal her secret. Finally, she said, “My most intense encounter happened when I was in labor with Lily. Michael had left the room to get some water or something and I was resting, but I was still kind of worried. Mom wasn’t there yet and Auntie and Colbi were missing—remember that?”

  Brianna nodded.

  “I was doing my best to stay calm for the baby’s sake and Michael’s. So after Michael left the room and I was all alone, I suddenly began thinking about Dad. Oh, how I missed him, but in that moment, it was as if he was with me and I knew everything would be okay.” She shook her head. “It’s really hard to explain. Since then, especially after knowing Rochelle, I have to wonder if…” she choked up a little, “…if Dad paid me a visit that night.”

  “It’s very likely that he did.” Brianna laughed. “Dad’s not going to miss the birth of his grandchildren. No way.”

  The women each spent a few moments with her own thoughts until Brianna broke the silence. “Isn’t that a cool old place?”

  Savannah noticed she was pointing at the ramshackle house she and Iris had discussed a few days earlier. “Yes. It’s a shame no one loves it anymore. I can’t imagine someone just abandoning it like that.”

  “It’s not abandoned. I know the gal who lives there.”

  “What?” Savannah snickered. “Oh, you mean it has a ghostly presence? Is that it?”

  “No. She’s definitely a breathing being. She’s a patient of mine,” Brianna said.

  “Living in that horribly neglected house?” Savannah questioned. “I mean, the windows are boarded up.”

  Brianna gazed at the house. “Well, I delivered sample meds to her here not too long ago.”

  Savannah squinted. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Only I came in from the street. I didn’t see it from this side. Doesn’t look much different from any angle.”

  Savannah scrutinized the house again. “Why has she neglected it like this?” She lowered her voice. “I mean, it’s a mess—flaking paint, overgrown yard.” Suddenly she yelped. “Oh!”

  “What?” Brianna asked.

  “Look,” she said, pointing. “There’s a cat. See that cat in those tall weeds?”

  “Could be,” Brianna said calmly. “She has cats. She introduced me to a couple when I was here a few weeks ago.”

  Savannah frowned in disbelief. “Really? Inside the house or out here?”

  “Out here.” She smiled. “She has a white one like Frankie and Snowball. She said she was afraid at first that Tinker was deaf. She told me that some white cats with blue eyes are deaf. Is that right?”

  Savannah nodded. “Yes, and some are blind. It’s a genetic thing I won’t try to explain.”

  “Why not?” Brianna cried. “I’m a doctor; I understand genetics.”

  Savannah chuckled. “Oh, right, Sis-Doc.”

  “Yeah, Sis-Doc.”

  “It’s been a long time since we’ve used those terms, hasn’t it?” Savannah said.

  Brianna agreed. “Yeah, now you’re Sis-Mommy.”

  “I’m still a veterinarian,” Savannah insisted.

  “Do you think you’ll ever practice again?”

  “Probably. Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  Savannah smiled. “Unless I become a writer instead.”

  “Really? Just because you wrote a book, now you think you could be a writer?” Brianna challenged.

  “Why not? Actually I already am a writer—an author—a published author.”

  Brianna sneered. “Hmph, you’re as much a writer as I am a
…a…rancher.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I live on a ranch, but I sure don’t know much about ranching. And you…”

  Savannah interrupted. “You’re saying I can’t consider myself a writer because I’ve only written one book?”

  “Well, yeah. It may be a fluke. Anyway, just because you can tell a story about your cat doesn’t mean you can write about anything else.” When Brianna noticed that her sister seemed distracted, she followed her stare. “What are you looking at?”

  “I think that cat’s hurt.” Savannah coaxed Peaches closer to the old house, dismounted, and handed Brianna her reins. “Wait here,” she said, walking cautiously into a weed patch.

  Brianna watched as her sister crouched. “What is it?” she called.

  When Savannah stood, she was cradling a large black body of fur. She turned toward her sister. “It is a cat, and he’s been injured.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket, sat on a tree stump with the cat in her lap, and began dabbing at the wound. She winced for Brianna’s benefit. “Dang, I’d better call Michael.” She added, “…or Bud.” She faced her sister, “Michael was going out to check on a couple of animals at the Gilbert place. Is Bud home? Do you know what he has planned?”

  “Um…not much, I guess. Just ranch work. I think he said he was going to do something with the steers. Want me to call him? Does the cat need stitches or something?”

  “Yes, the cat needs something. Probably stitches. I just hope the wound isn’t too old.” She glanced toward the house. “We should let the owner know.” After considering what to do, she said, “Yes, go ahead and call Bud. Then bring the horses over here. I’ll hold onto them while you go find the owner.” She glanced around. “Maybe she’s not home. There’s no car or anything.”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure she’s home,” Brianna said, placing a call to Bud. She pocketed her phone and slid down out of the saddle, saying, “He’ll be here in a jiff.”

  Brianna led the horses to where Savannah sat and handed her both lead ropes, then she disappeared around the side of the house. Shortly, Savannah heard a woman’s voice. “Where is he? Where’s my Blackie?”