Seeking Refuge

by Alana Terry

  Two weeks after that, her parents separated, and her mother moved to Holly Springs, N.C. This allowed her to be close to her parents and Shauna’s older sister, Lillian who had decided to remain in the area after attending Duke University. Shauna, who had just entered her first year at Northwestern University at the Chicago campus, was deeply hurt on one side and relieved on another. The degeneration of her parents’ marriage during the previous year had taken its toll on everyone. At first, the family had rallied together, the fear of death overpowering all other emotions. It took almost a year before the quiet lost its peace and became a wall that divided her parents. The only time she heard them talk to one another was when they were discussing her needs or those of her siblings.

  “Shauna, are you all right?” Shauna blinked until her mother came back into focus.

  “Yes.” She swallowed against the dryness of her throat. “How long have I been out?” Her voice could’ve staked her claim to being queen of the frogs.

  “You slept through the night.” Her mother poured water from the pitcher on her bedside table into a cup with a straw. “I was disappointed I wasn’t here when you first woke up. Your father had finally convinced me to go to the hotel and rest for a few hours.” She quirked her lips and helped Shauna lean forward enough to sip comfortably. “I’m afraid I didn’t take it well.” She smiled sheepishly. Shauna felt her lips tip up, but she wasn’t sure they’d formed a full smile. Obviously, there were still quite a few drugs in her system.

  “Xander and Lil are here, but they went to the cafeteria to get me some coffee.” She smiled ruefully. “It’s your father’s turn to be at the hotel.”

  Shauna was tempted to ask how she and her father were getting along, but she didn’t want to interrupt her mother’s serene mood. She knew she was a hopeless romantic. Otherwise, she wouldn’t still wish for her parents to get back together. It wasn’t just that they were her parents. It was their love story that had the potential for one of the greatest endings. It gave her something to wish for, a goal to reach for. She couldn’t give up on the idea of them finding their way back to each other, no matter how much hurt and pain lay between them.

  Shauna blinked a few times to bring the room and her mother back into focus.

  “Where do you keep going?” her mother asked as she sat in the chair next to Shauna’s bed.

  “What?” Shauna hedged.

  “I know you have some powerful drugs in your system, but when your eyes go unfocused, I can tell you’re thinking of something. Is it...” She paused, and Shauna saw her swallow a couple of times as she tried to regain control of her emotions. “Are you thinking of last Thursday?”

  “No,” Shauna said quietly.

  “What then?”

  “You.” She took a breath. “Of you and Dad.” She shrugged, which reminded her that her shoulders were connected to her head. She closed her eyes briefly against the pain and opened them to see that pain mirrored in her mother’s eyes. She wanted to comfort her but settled for humor.

  “I was wondering which one of you’d end up laid up beside me.”

  Her mom huffed. “We’re able to be civil toward one another. Especially when one of our children is in distress.”

  “Barely,” Shauna murmured.

  “What?” Her mom gave her the I heard you, but I dare you to say it again look.

  “Nothing,” she said a little louder.

  “You didn’t answer my question. How are you feeling?” Her mom’s intense gaze made her feel uncomfortable.

  “Like I got hit by a car.” She thought about clearing her throat, but knew it would hurt and she just didn’t think she could take it above what was beginning to be a wallop of a headache.

  “But you didn’t.” Her mom gave her a watery smile. “You didn’t get hit by a car. Michael saved you.”

  She couldn’t believe she forgot about Michael. “How’s Michael. Is he all right?”

  “Yes. I think he sprained his wrist, but other than that, he came out of it without a scratch.” Her mother gave her a smile that barely raised the sides of her lips. “Mike told me to tell you he’s sorry about your sandwich.”

  Shauna gave her a wry smile. “I really wanted that sandwich.”

  “I will have deli sandwiches delivered to you every day if you stay out of the middle of the street.”

  Her mother’s watery gaze took the humor out of the statement.

  She took her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “Deal.”

  Reina sniffed back the rest of her tears and took a deep breath. Shauna had never seen anyone who could compose themselves as well and as quickly as her mother could. Sometimes she wondered when she’d actually let it all out. Probably at home under the covers, shrouded in a haze of wine.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened the day you got hurt?”

  Shauna looked into her mother’s searching eyes and took a deep breath. “No.”

  Her mother blinked as if trying to comprehend her response then frowned. “Let me rephrase that,” she said sardonically. “Tell me what happened the day you got hurt.”

  Shauna thought about her answer for a moment. She had a few questions of her own before she could satisfy her mom’s curiosity.

  “How much has Dad and Michael shared with you?”

  “Well... the fact that Michael was with you let me know that you were in trouble.”

  “He could’ve been taking me to see Lindsey.”

  “I thought about that,” her mother said, tipping her head to the side. “But when Michael and your father looked at each other to see how much they’d share with me, they gave it away.”

  Shauna smiled to herself. Her mom’s skills of observation were legendary. Michael and her father should’ve planned better.

  “So, what did they share with you?”

  “Your dad told me you have a stalker, and though he told you he wanted you to get away for a while, you refused to leave town. Instead, you go riding, where anyone could get to you or your riding equipment.”

  “Michael drove. I don’t think they know his car.”

  “If they know where you live, they only had to watch until you got into his car and follow you. For once, I agree with your father. Once you’re well enough to leave the hospital, I think it would be best if you went away.”

  “You make it sound like I have somewhere to go. Even if I gave your thought some consideration.” She swallowed back the distaste of it. “Not that I am.” She gave her mother a pointed look. “I wouldn’t know where to go.”

  “Don’t you have any friends from high school or college you’ve kept in touch with?” Her mother gave her a look of concern that made her want to come up with someone just so she wouldn’t think Shauna was the loner she actually was. She looked down as though deep in thought. After a moment or two, she looked back up at her mom and shrugged.

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed briefly before lighting up, and Shauna knew she was in trouble.

  “What about your old college roommate? What was her name, Kelly, Kyla...?”

  “Kimberly,” Shauna corrected her mother and suddenly felt very tired. She had the feeling she was being set up. “I haven’t talked to Kimberly in months. She called to invite me to one of the Kentucky Derby events in May, but I couldn’t take the time off.”

  Her mom held her hand. “You need to consider taking that trip, at least until they find this guy.” Shauna looked at the brightness of her mom’s hazel eyes and wanted to argue, but experience told her she wouldn’t win.

  “So...” Her mother leaned away and started straightening the bedclothes. “What happened on Thursday? Michael said you were just standing in the middle of the street.”

  Even as she opened her mouth to speak, she could see her life for the foreseeable future slipping out of her hands.

  Chapter 7

  “MORNIN’.” THE SLEEPY voice that whispered across his mind brought a smile to his lips before he opened his eyes. He rolled toward the sound, still clingi
ng to the warmth and haze of sleep. He wrapped his arm around the waist lying next to him, pulling her close so he could nuzzle the spot between her neck and shoulder. He frowned when he had trouble finding the spot he could usually locate with his eyes closed. He slowly opened his eyes and consciousness rushed in. He didn’t need to lift his head to confirm that he was alone. He’d been so for the last seven years. He let go of the pillow he was holding along with the dream that would never again come true.

  The whining coming from the other side of the bed caught his attention and he rolled over to its edge and reached out to rub the coat of his border collie/Lab mix. “It’s all right, boy. It was just a dream.” His voice caught on the last word.

  More shaken than he cared to admit, Zach got out of bed and walked straight to his shower. He turned on the water and shuddered through the first few seconds of cold water until it began to grow tepid then hot. The shock of the cold usually pulled him out of his stupor and the heat soothed his stiff muscles. Not today. Today the essence of the dream lingered along with snapshots of tawny-colored eyes, full lips, and the faint scent of gerbera daisies. Her presence hung in the air like sap on a tree. If he could scrape it off he would have. Giving up on the shower to soothe him, he finished washing and prepared for his next attempt at exorcism.

  He strolled out on the porch of his cabin in the early light of the morning with a mug of coffee, and sat in the Adirondack chair he’d bought from a furniture store in Lexington. It was the only piece of furniture he’d bought for himself in seven years. The thought of buying more than one piece of furniture at a time was overwhelming, so when Giovanni asked if he wanted a furnished cabin or if he wanted to choose his own, he told Giovanni to take the wheel. It wasn’t exactly Zach’s tastes with its heavy, rounded, oak pieces, but since he’d relinquished his vote, he didn’t feel he had the right to say anything.

  He listened to the sounds of the morning go from an occasional tweet from a mountain bluebird to the melodious singing of larkspurs. Sebastian sat next to him, which was out of the ordinary for his wandering dog. Sebastian had the run of the ranch when he wasn’t helping to herd and run horses. He slept on the floor next to Zach’s bed, ate the food he set out, and kept him company on the rainiest of days. Other than that, Sebastian was off and running most mornings just as quickly as Zach could open the front door.

  “I’m all right, Bass,” he whispered between sips of coffee. “I just have to round up a few memories that escaped.” The dog looked at him and whined low before looking back out over the ranch. He was an odd dog. Zach had no idea how old he was or where he’d come from. He just showed up at the beginning of winter during Zach’s third year at the ranch. Zach was leading some horses from the corral and he showed up, running back and forth to keep the horses in line.

  Zach could tell the dog was used to being around horses, and after a week of him showing up at the bunkhouse every morning and trotting beside him throughout the day, Zach started making calls to nearby ranches. This, after checking to see if he belonged to any of the other ranch hands at Murphy. No one claimed him, so Zach took him aside one day and asked him if he wanted to stay.

  “You and I need to come to an understanding, which I’m not sure how to do,” he said, after squatting down so he could look into the dog’s eyes. “You keep coming around here, and so far from what I’m able to surmise, you don’t belong to anyone.” The dog tipped his head to the side. Zach took a deep breath. “I need to know what to call you. Do you have a name?” The dog sat on his haunches like he was making himself comfortable.

  Zach watched him for a moment. “How about Bob? Bob?” The dog looked away like he was bored. “Sam. How about Sam?” The dog responded as if he didn’t hear him. He thought for a moment, and a name came to him from when he’d begged his parents for a dog for his eighth birthday.

  “Sebastian.” The dog’s head came around and he barked twice. “Sebastian, you sure?” The dog walked forward and licked his hand.

  “Okay. Sebastian, it is.” He scheduled a time for the dog to be examined by the on-call vet who would be following up with one of the mares and made sure he was up to date with all his shots. From then on, Sebastian became a companion. Maybe it was his intuitive nature or the way Sebastian would look at Zach when he was feeling chatty. It was almost as if he could understand him. Zach didn’t think it was probable, but it made him feel better all the same.

  Zach took another sip from his mug. The cold air of the late January morning was soothing. The summer had been hot and he’d welcomed the drop in temperature. They were deep in winter now. The green foliage of a few months ago had dried up and drifted away. The ground was in a deep slumber and the quiet was beautiful. Later that day, he’d have to go out to the Baker's farm which bordered the south end of the horse ranch. Mr. Baker had suffered a heart attack a few years before and never regained his full strength, so Zach wanted to make sure they had enough wood on their pile and feed brought in from the barn.

  He liked the Bakers. He remembered their kindness after his mother left. They didn’t look at him with pity, just a little sympathy. Mrs. Baker would bring over casseroles every couple of weeks. She’d tell him how to reheat it and told him if he wanted, to pretend he made it if his dad asked—she wouldn’t be offended. She didn’t know that by then his dad didn’t say much of anything, let alone ask how he’d made a macaroni casserole. His mother had taken pieces of him with her when she’d left them.

  It was just after his twelfth birthday. She’d always been an affectionate woman, especially compared to his dad who was a very quiet man. She’d see him off to school each morning with a hot breakfast in his belly and sack lunch that never failed to hold a surprise. Sometimes it was a note, other times it was an extra dessert. A few times he’d found an action figure nuzzled between his sandwich and juice box. They weren’t wealthy or middle class, but between his mother’s job at the bank and his father’s as a full-time ranch hand, they made ends meet.

  He remembered feeling a change in the atmosphere when he was eleven. The smile that had been readily available on his mother’s face became forced. She held him a little tighter, longer. He didn’t mind it so much in the house, but when they were out he felt embarrassed by it. He remembered his father telling her to stop coddling him in public, otherwise people would start to think he was soft. She ignored his father at first, but after continuing to see his disapproval, Zach had asked if she’d keep most of the affection to around the apartment. He was getting older now and didn’t want the boys in school to think he was a mama’s boy, no matter how much he secretly loved her hugs. They always made him feel safe and loved.

  His dad’s approval and acknowledgment did much the same, though it was a little less forthcoming. His dad wasn’t a bad man or even a hard man. He just worked long, hard hours and didn’t have a lot of time or energy for games or going out to the neighborhood park.

  A few weeks before summer vacation and two months after his twelfth birthday, his mother hugged him longer and tighter than she’d done over the previous weeks. She told him he was the love of her life; something she’d told him before. But this time, instead of feeling comforted, he felt anxious. He thought about it a couple of times that day. Once, when he opened his lunch and found a small notebook of quotes she’d spoken to him over the years, and again when his teacher announced the upcoming Parent Career Day. He hoped she would be able to come by and share.

  After school, he walked home with some friends who lived near or on his street and let himself in the apartment as usual. He went to the kitchen for the snack his mom left in the fridge, since she didn’t get home from work until an hour after he did. He was surprised to see a piece of paper next to the plate of apple slices and cheese. He took them both out, placing the food on the kitchen table while he unfolded the note. He read the note three times until he understood what his mother was saying. He got up and ran to his parents’ bedroom. Her scent still lingered there. He went to the closet and saw
that her clothing was gone. Then he went through the drawers and bathroom, but all signs of her were gone. His mother was gone.

  Zach took a deep breath and came back to his current surroundings. He felt his body sigh as though it was happy he’d changed his direction of thought. He checked his watch and leaned into the chair a little farther. He had a half hour more of quiet before the other hands made preparations for the day. This was his place of peace. Sure, he went to church on Sunday. It was expected in this small town. He listened to the sermons and the hymns. He held light conversations with the other members and left as quickly as he could. He believed in God. It was hard not to, even with all he’d lost, but when he looked at the cycle of life in the trees and animals surrounding him, he couldn’t deny it. He felt closer to God here on this ranch than he did in any pew, listening to any sermon. It had saved his life when no one else could. He just had to work a little harder at keeping the ghosts at bay.

  “Well, Bass...” He looked down at his companion. “What do you say we get this day started?” He thought for a moment. “If we get done early enough, I might take you by Jefferson’s Market.” The dog’s ears perked up. He knew that Jefferson’s meant treats, since whenever they went to the farmers market, Jefferson gave him beef jerky and a good rub. He sometimes wondered how long it would be before Sebastian left him for Jefferson.

  The year-round farmers market in Bourbonville was owned by Jefferson Davies, a disabled vet, and a friend of Mr. Murphy.

  Zach finished his coffee then set out to prepare the horses for the therapy sessions scheduled for that day.

  The early morning was spent doing some light rescheduling of therapy sessions for those staying at the lodge. His meeting with Ona Kirschbaum, their horse trainer and event planner, went as it usually did. She talked and he listened. He figured it was best after the first couple of meetings they had to keep lines of communication open between the therapy center and horse-training facility. Since they sometimes used the same horses, it was always good to share not only which clients worked well with certain horses but any and all conditions dealing with the horses on what Zach considered his side of the ranch. Ona, being a trainer, sometimes took on the job of training some of the horses whose owners rented stalls on the other side of the ranch.