Raked Over
Page 53
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After a long and rejuvenating rest, I felt much better. My arm, though bruised, felt less stiff; the knee was still sore, but workable. I was thankful that I was from very sturdy stock, and that sleep was my healer. The next day I sent Marjo home to Carol, and Isabelle home to Niwot, their help greatly appreciated. Isabelle told me to call her on her cell if I needed anything, since she’d be out of town, travelling to training seminars. Marjo promised they’d check on me the next day.
Alone at last, I gave my niece Haley in Texas a call, just to hear her voice. Henry Wade had alerted the Texas authorities about Ernesto Mondragón’s threats, and he had relayed back to me that she was safe. I didn’t think I needed to tell her the whole story on the phone; some day, not right then. We chatted awhile, and I felt better just listening to her. She suggested a visit in the spring, and I readily agreed. Then I called Betty Huckleston, knowing she’d be pretty frantic to talk to me after Liz had called her the night before, and we talked a long time together. Liz and Emma came over to help out, and just to talk, a few times in the ensuing days, and then I unplugged the phones, wanting to spend some time in peaceful silence at home with the dogs. I needed the solitude.