“Saturday was my mother’s birthday and I totally forgot.” My voice got husky. “How could I do that?”
“We forgot a lot of things with the fire,” she said. Then put her arm around me. “Just shows you’re healing.”
“I never forgot her birthday before,” I whispered.
She dropped her arm and let me go. “Why don’t you sketch something?” she suggested. “Something that reminds you of your momma.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll work on something after lunch.” Art always helped me work through my problems. I got up from the table and carried my dishes to the sink. “I’m going to go help Russ with the chores,” I said and headed to the barn.
Later, I took my sketch pad and sat in the corner of the living room where the sun poured in each afternoon.
Closing my eyes, I conjured my mother. I heard her music as I always did when I thought of her. They were inseparable. Then I opened up the sketch pad, picked up a stick of charcoal and began drawing.
My hand kept moving, struggling to capture on the page what I saw in my mind. Oblivious of time, lines took shape into my mother. The whole time I worked, I heard Chopin.
Then the drawing was finished. I held the pad up to look at what I’d created.
In the drawing, my mother sat at the piano, her back to me and head turned to the left. Only one the side of her face showed and one slim arm. Long, graceful fingers hovered over the ivory and ebony keys. I heard her music as if she were in the room with me.
“Did you find something to draw?” asked my aunt.
Startled, I looked up.
“Yeah.”
“Can I see?” she asked.
“Sure.”
She stood beside me and looked down at the page for a long time.
“You can hear the music,” she said softly.
“I know,” I whispered, and everything blurred.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, putting a hand on my shoulder.
Reaching up, I put mine over hers.
“Thanks, Aunt Bess.”
The ache in my heart eased a little. Once again, art helped make sense of it all.
Sunday, July 30, 1961
The hoof beats came closer, thundering, shaking the ground.
I held my breath in anticipation of seeing Shadow Dancer
Then the Appaloosa flew past me without slowing down.
“Shadow Dancer,” I screamed. He was gone.
My cheeks were wet as I struggled to sit up and clear my head of the nightmare I’d had almost every night since the fire. I couldn’t get back to sleep.
The house was quiet as I made my way downstairs. Slipping into my coat and boots, I went outside.
A sliver of moon lit the yard. The wind picked up, moaning through the pine trees like a chorus of ghosts. I turned up the collar of my coat. The spot where the barn had stood was still roped off. The black blot of ashes gaped like a big scar in the yard. Aunt Bess was right. It looked like the pit of hell. That night we hadn’t known if everything on the place would burn down. I shivered remembering.
Looking down, I noticed something shining in the ashes. I nudged it with my boot, then I bent down, picked it up, and put it in my pocket.
Monday, July 31, 1961
The insurance company fire expert from Denver finally arrived to assess the damage. He wore a suit and introduced himself as Nathaniel Willis.
“We can tell all sorts of things from the ashes,” said the tall, thin man. He spent an hour taking samples of ash from different areas and put them in small jars. Pieces of charred wood. were stuffed into plastic bags he’d brought along and put in the trunk of his car. Then he slammed it so hard I jumped.
He rubbed his filthy fingers together.
“Is there somewhere I can wash up?” he asked, holding his hands out so they didn’t touch his clothes.
“Sure, follow me,” said my aunt leading him into the kitchen.
Mr. Willis spent forever washing up in the kitchen sink. When he finished, Aunt Bess gave him a worn dish towel to dry his hands, he looked like she’d handed him a dirty rag.
What did he expect to dry his hands on?
“How long will it take for the claim to be settled?” Aunt Bess asked, walking him back to his car. “I gotta build a new barn for my horses.”
“You’ll be hearing from us,” said the expert handing Aunt Bess one of his business cards. Then he folded his tall frame into the small red car and left without another word.
“I bet,” muttered Aunt Bess.
Russ put his arm around her. “We’ll get through this, Bess.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and let out a deep sigh.
Maybe I should have told the insurance man what I found in the ashes. Something had stopped me. Maybe it was how he rushed around and couldn’t wait to leave the ranch. Maybe it was his condescending attitude and abrupt answers to any of our questions. I simply didn’t trust him. So I kept my own counsel and kept quiet.
Chapter 32
August 1961
We couldn’t do anything to the area where the main barn stood. Still roped off, it remained a gruesome reminder of the tragedy. Day after day we waited to hear from the insurance company.
A lot of tack and grooming supplies also burned in the fire which made working with the horses difficult. Every time we needed something, it was either missing or in a different barn.
I was thankful for the work because it kept me from obsessing about Shadow Dancer every minute of the day. If it wasn’t for working with the other horses, I’d have gone mad.
“Where are your gloves?” asked Russ one morning when I helped him feed the horses.
I looked down at my red, chapped hands, realizing I hadn’t put them on.
“They were in the tack room. They…” I gulped. “They burned in the fire.”
“Here, put these on,” said Russ, slipping off his gloves. “I’ll find another pair.”
I slipped my cold fingers into the warm gloves. The ache in my heart hurt more than my hands. Shadow Dancer was still missing, and it looked like I’d never find him.
Without the main barn, work routine was disrupted. Most of the horses in training were being boarded temporarily in other people’s barns. Only four older horses remained at the ranch. The mares had to be exercised and worked as well.
Aunt Bess laid off the ranch hands because there wasn’t enough work. Since Tony Santos lived in town with his sister, Russ could call him when his help was needed. Rick’s departure added to the numbness I felt. With Shadow Dancer gone and Rick back at home, I felt abandoned.
I called everyone scheduled to visit during the coming week. My aunt put off phoning other people to cancel the rest of the visits.
“You’ve got to make those calls, Bess, or we’ll have a yard full of people coming to buy horses we don’t have ready to sell,” Russ told her.
“I can’t,” she said angrily. “I just can’t.” She left the kitchen.
“Russ,” I said hesitantly. “I can make the phone calls if you want.”
His troubled eyes turned to me. “Thanks, honey. That would be a big help.” He sighed. “I’m worried about her.”
“So am I.”
Aunt Bess had changed since the fire. She didn’t talk as much and took a nap most afternoons. Although she went outside, she didn’t linger and hurried past the remains of the barn.
I canceled the rest of the appointments for the next month. Everyone I spoke to was understanding about the situation.
“I’m tired,” she told Russ at lunch. “That fire knocked the stuffing outta me.”
His golden eyes softened with concern.
She patted his arm. “I’ll be okay. Feel like I’ve been thrown from a horse. It’ll just take me time to get back in the saddle.”
They stared at each other. I didn’t know what they said because no words were exchanged. They definitely communicated something.
Finally, Russ said, “I’ll see
you at supper then.” He pulled her toward him and kissed her.
I turned away, missing Rick and remembering the last time he kissed me.
When I looked back, Aunt Bess’s cheeks were flushed and Russ headed out the door.
With a smile on her lips, she moved to the stove. “Better start supper,” she said to herself.
The phone rang.
“Can you get that, Maryann?” she asked pulling pots out.
“Hello, Table Top Ranch,” I said.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Rick.” I melted at the sound of his voice. How I missed him.
“Why don’t you invite him for supper?” said my aunt over her shoulders.
So I did.
Tuesday, August 1, 1961
We were shaken after the fire expert’s visit. He left little hope of a quick resolution to the insurance claim.. If the speed at which he went over the evidence and left was any indication, he didn’t seem thorough.
The next day I waited until Aunt Bess hit the paperwork on her desk in the office and Russ began chores.
I dialed one of the numbers on the wall by the kitchen phone.
“This is Maryann Madigan. I need to talk to the Sheriff.”
“What’s this about?” asked the lady who answered the phone.
I fingered the metal object in my pocket.
“It’s about the fire at our ranch,” I replied.
It didn’t take long to give facts to Deputy Parker. He promised a follow-up call or visit by the Sheriff.
Something told me not to share what I’d found. For the time being I kept the secret to myself. I hadn’t even told Rick or Lisa. Maybe I didn’t want to get my hopes up — or anyone else’s. Only the Sheriff’s office was aware of what I’d found in the ashes.
Tuesday, August 8, 1961
Russ went to check on the horses in their temporary homes. Aunt Bess stayed in the house like she’d been doing a lot lately. I saddled Freeman and searched for Shadow Dancer by myself.
The trails were familiar to me now. The cool air felt good and I was glad I’d worn my jacket since it was always cooler up in the mountains. Freeman seemed eager to be off.
I saw hoof prints. I couldn’t tell how fresh they were or which horse made them. In the still air I strained to hear any sound of horses. There was nothing except the sound of wind rippling through pine trees. High overhead a hawk circled, calling to its mate. It reminded me of Aunt Bess and Russ. What was going to happen if the insurance company didn’t finish its investigation soon?
I rode until late afternoon, taking note of direction to avoid getting lost. Freeman was responsive beneath me. Clearly he enjoyed the exercise.
Where was Shadow Dancer? Discouraged, I headed back.
Suddenly I heard a shrill whinny. I pulled Freeman to an abrupt stop, holding my breath, straining to hear. Nothing. After a few moments, I rode on.
High up on a ridge to my right, a horse stood. I squinted. Was it an Appaloosa? The horse disappeared in the fading light. Was it Shadow Dancer?
I couldn’t be sure. It was getting dark. If I didn’t leave now, I’d have trouble finding the trail back. Reluctantly I turned Freeman back to the ranch. Did I see a real horse — or a ghost? No one was around when I got back to the ranch and put Freeman in his stall.
Aunt Bess sat at the table when I came in the kitchen. Russ stood next to her. I was relieved neither one noticed my absence.
“I saw Shadow Dancer,” I blurted out.
They didn’t react to my news. Then I realized they hadn’t even heard me. Something was wrong.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Your aunt fainted, that’s what.” Russ declared.
I clutched the back of the chair.
“Now look, you’ve gone and upset her,” chided my aunt.
“I’m gonna call the doctor right now. Where’s his number?” Russ demanded.
“It’s in my address book in the office.” She didn’t try to dissuade him.
“Can I get you something?” I asked.
“No, Maryann. I’m fine. He’s just over reacting to my dizzy spell.” She reached for my hand, her grip reassuringly firm. “I’m just upset about the insurance. We got a letter.” She pointed to an open letter on the table.
“What did they say?”
“They’re not gonna give me a dime for the barn until their arson investigation is complete. I called Mr. Willis. He couldn’t tell me when that will be. ‘We’re working on it, Mrs. Stokes,’ he said. Sounded like he couldn’t give two hoots.”
“That’s absurd,” I said. “It could take months. We’ve got to get started on the new barn.”
“Yes, we do,” agreed my aunt.
Russ came back and hustled her to the door.
“The doctor can fit you in. We have to leave now.” He turned to me. “Don’t wait up for us, Maryann. After we finish at the doctor, we’re gonna have dinner in town.” He hustled my aunt out the door despite her objections.
I made a sandwich which took the edge off my hunger. Since Shadow Dancer’s disappearance, I didn’t have much of an appetite.
Aunt Bess and Russ came back around nine thirty. I sat in my room, drawing. She poked her head in. Her cheeks were flushed and there was a sparkle in her eye. Going into town and having dinner with Russ was a good idea. She looked like her old self.
“Just my blood pressure actin’ up. The doctor gave me new pills to take. I’ll be fine. I’m just a little tired is all.”
“Thank God you’re okay.”
I wanted to tell her about seeing Shadow, but was afraid she’d think I had lost my mind.
Chapter 33
Thursday, August 10, 1961
Rick drove over then disappeared with Russ on horseback. Aunt Bess didn’t know where they’d gone. I’d been inside making more phone calls and hadn’t realized Rick was even here. They didn’t get back to the ranch until after supper.
“Where were you?” I asked when I found them in the barn unsaddling their horses.
“Looking for Shadow,” said Rick.
“Did you see him?”
“No,” said Russ, “we saw a lot of tracks that might have been his.”
“What are we going to do? How are we going to get him back?” My stomach clenched.
“We’ll find him,” Russ reassured me. I wasn’t so sure.
“We’ll never find Shadow,” I said once I was alone with Rick I was so discouraged I felt like crying.
“Oh yes we will,” said Rick. “I have a plan.”
“You do?” I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I’d grasp at any straw if it meant finding the horse I loved.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. Ride over to the meadow at dawn. I’ll meet you there.”
Hope filled me. “Oh Rick, I’m so happy I could scream.”
“Would you settle for a kiss?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Maybe,” I said softly.
And then his kissed me.
Friday, August 11, 1961:
The next morning I met Rick in the meadow. From there, we could take trails up into the hills where I’d last seen Shadow.
To my surprise, he rode a dun-colored buckskin and had Treasure on a lead rope following along behind.
“What’s going on?”
Rick smiled. “You may have noticed I’m not riding Treasure.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“This is Dusty. He’s my dad’s horse.”
“So why are you riding him?”
“She is the cheese for our trap.”
I was confused. “Cheese? Rick, what are you talking about?”
“Treasure is going to find Shadow Dancer.”
“How? Is she part bloodhound?” He wasn’t making any sense.
“Better than that. She’s ready to be bred.”
I gave him a blank look. I still didn’t get it.
“What does that have to do with it?”
“Everything,” he replied.
Was Rick crazy?
“Afterwards, she’ll help us bring him in,” he explained.
“How are we going to get her back?”
“Easy,” said Rick confidently. “We’ll let them have a couple of days together then we’ll ride back here and get them.”
“Yeah, like it’s a bus stop and they’ll be standing there waiting for us.”
“You don’t know Treasure,” he said. “She comes when I whistle. Always has. Taught her when she was a weanling — a baby. Every time she came at my whistle, she got a bucket of oats. It’s real motivating.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure this was going to work. I’d try anything to get Shadow Dancer back though.
I led the way up the trail to the place I’d last seen Shadow. I turned around in the saddle to face Rick.
“This is the place.”
We got off our horses. I held the reins while Rick brought Treasure up front.
“It’s up to you, girl,” he told her. “We’re counting on you to find Shadow Dancer.”
She exhaled and nodded her head as if she understood.
Rick took the halter off and smoothed his hand along her neck.
“Now you find him,” he said and slapped her on the rump.
She ran up the hill, tail flagged over her rump then stopped and looked back. She let out a loud whinny, as if she were saying goodbye. Then she disappeared into the underbrush and we couldn’t see her any more. The sound of her hooves faded in the distance and all we heard was the wind.
“Oh Rick, do you think it will work?” I wanted to believe. Hope of finding Shadow Dancer was the only thing that kept me going.
“Oh yeah, it’ll work.” He grinned.
I prayed he was right. We made our way back down to the meadow and dismounted to stretch our legs before returning to our respective homes.
“Well, I better get back,” I said at last, moving toward Freeman.
“Don’t you trust me?” he asked, catching my arm to stop me.
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