“They are ancient places where the native people lived long ago. They survived mostly on shellfish and left the shells.”
“Are you native?” He again noticed her long, dark hair and brown eyes. She looked as if she could be.
“I have native blood deep in my ancestry, yes,” she answered, guiding her horse down a worn path toward the mountains. “I have studied native traditions, especially as it relates to horses. I find their methods to be...kind. Instinctive, and more respectful of the horse than our western ways.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, thinking of the way horses were trained in Ireland, at least on his farm, with the harnesses and whips they’d used. He’d never thought there could be another method, and had spent many hours trying to break in young colts under his father’s watchful eye.
“I believe that all creatures should be treated with respect, with dignity. And rather than bending them to your will, you can make them your partners, so that they want to do you what bid them to do.”
He peered at her from under the brim of his hat. Her eyes were straight forward on the horizon, and her lips were curved in a smile. It looked to him as if she and Violet were walking in unison, not one riding the other, and he wondered if she could be right.
Chapter 6
The rattle came from behind Nala as she walked along behind the horses. Colin and Hanna’s heads spun at the same moment toward the sound that he recognized as a rattlesnake. As Colin turned, he pulled the reins hard and Regalo reared back a bit, taking off like a shot down the road ahead.
Colin held on tightly, eyes narrowed, trying to remember everything he knew about riding. He pulled back on the reins and turned to see Nala bounding behind him, Hanna following quickly. His heart raced as he regained control and finally pulled the horse to a stop.
Colin’s heart beat quickly as he patted Regalo’s neck, both of their breathing slowly returning to normal.
“That sounded like a pretty big rattlesnake. I can’t ever get used to them. There aren’t snakes in Ireland, don’t you know, and I’m not the best with ‘em.” He knew from her smile that he must have looked a sight with the horse taking off like that.
“Regalo wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t felt your fear.”
“I wasn’t afraid. Just surprised.” His jaw hardened and his chin jutted out as he leveled his eyes at her.
Her eyebrows inched upward as she said, “Suit yourself. But my horses are trained to be in tune with their rider. They take your emotional lead rather than the lead of the reins.”
“I’m not sure what you mean. I pulled his reins and he stopped.”
“Yes, but not because you pulled on his reins; because you were ready to stop. No longer panicked.”
“I wasn’t panicked.” He heard his voice harden a bit. Who was this girl to tell him what he was feeling, anyway?
“Okay. I understand,” she said and eased Violet to her left, walking further on the creek bed toward the mountains. “We’re almost there. Follow me.”
“What do you mean, you understand?” he said quietly, but she had already gone ahead of him. He urged Regalo to keep up, and they galloped up ahead and around a curve. Hanna had stopped in front of what looked like a huge sand dune with specks of white in it.
She turned as he came up, smiling. “This is it.”
He dismounted, looping Regalo’s reins over the branch of a nearby elephant tree. Spotting Nala, he motioned to her to follow him as they walked toward the mound.
Hanna secured Violet and followed slowly, with an air of reverence as she approached the mound.
“My ancestors lived here for centuries before they abandoned the spot. This is where they lived, fed their families, made a life.”
“How did they survive? It’s so hot here in the summer.”
“They lived with the rhythm of the seasons, but fished and clammed all year round. In the winter, they lived here, closer to the mountains. They hunted abundant deer, rabbits and other small animals. Probably snakes, too,” she said, and quickly glanced at him, her eyes flickering.
“Too bad they didn’t get them all.” With a quick glance around, he returned her smile.
“Doesn’t seem like you’d have survived as a native.” She motioned to him as she moved closer to the mound. Kneeling down, she picked up what looked like a rock and handed it to him.
The rock looked like a perfectly formed clam, closed as if it had just been found in the sea. It was heavier, though, as it had turned to stone. He was amazed by its beauty, and holding it in his hand, he felt the warm breeze touch his face and heard the elephant trees rustle.
“Did you feel that?” he asked her, turning the fossil over in his hand.
“Yes. There is much you can feel here, if you are willing. I believe the spirits dwell here, even now.”
He turned to her and his mouth opened, as if to speak. He looked from the fossil to her, and felt as if he’d been thrown back in time, sensing the importance of where he was. His pulse quickened, and an ancient scene of her with her horse, at this place flashed through his mind.
He shook his head and moved closer to the mound himself. Picking up another stone, he said, “What is this one?”
She moved to where he was, her hand outstretched. As she took the stone from his hand, the breeze moved again, almost in a circle around them, throwing dirt in the air surrounding them. They both looked up as the horses whinnied by the trees.
“That was strange,” he said as the breeze died as quickly as it had come up.
“I don’t think so,” she said, smiling at him. “The spirits speak here in many ways.”
“Well, if that’s the spirits speaking, I’m not sure I want to know what they have to say,” he laughed, turning back to the mound. He pointed to her hand and said, “What is that one?”
“This is a fossilized scorpion.”
“So these Indians survived on wild game and catches from the sea?”
“Yes, in addition to grinding mesquite flour. Mesquite trees were plentiful at that time, but have mostly been used for firewood since. There are petroglyphs in the mountains depicting more of what I’m describing.” She turned and walked toward the horses. “I’m going to give the horses some water if you’d like to lay out lunch.”
He caught the knapsacks as she tossed them to him and grabbed the blanket he had put in Regalo’s saddlebags. Under the shade of a salt cedar tree, he laid out the blanket and dug into the knapsacks.
She had packed a Mexican meal, complete with freshly made salsa, beans, rice and avocados. As he took a wrapped package from the bag, he lifted it to his nose, inhaling the wonderful aroma of the warm, round tortillas.
“Yes, they are homemade,” she said, surprising him from close behind.
“You make your own tortillas?” he said, not able to hide his admiration.
She sat down on the blanket beside him and set down two bottles of Indio, Mexico’s best dark beer and his favorite.
“Yes, my grandmother taught me. There’s no comparison, in my opinion, and I prefer to make them myself.”
He quickly filled two tortillas with beans, rice, salsa and avocado, handing her one and biting into the other.
“Be careful, my salsa is—”
He coughed as the heat of the jalapenos seared his tongue. Sputtering, he grabbed for the bottle and took a big swig of Indio.
Her laughter danced in the arroyo as he wiped the sweat from his eyes and tried to catch his breath. “I was going to warn you.”
“Guess I didn’t give you a chance.” He felt the color coming back into his face.
“Are you all right?”
His face now beet red, he said, “Yes, absolutely. I love it spicy.”
“You could have fooled me. I thought you were going to choke.”
“Ah, it’s a pleasurable pain, lass. The hotter the better.”
“More, then?” she said as she made another taco and held it out to him.”
“Oh, yes
, please.” As he took the food from her hand, he met her gaze. She quickly dropped her eyes toward the blanket, smiling.
“I’m glad you like it,” she said quietly.
After they’d eaten, Hanna quickly packed up and tossed everything they’d brought with them into the saddlebags. He watched her do it with speed, grace and efficiency and only turned away when she caught him watching. But if he’d had his way, he’d be happy watching her do anything at all. Even pull weeds if he got to see the wind toss her hair around and the sparkle in her eyes when she looked out over the horizon.
Just as they were ready to head back to the beach, she turned toward the mound and closed her eyes, raised her arms and said, “Thank you.”
She turned to him and smiled, which made him smile even bigger.
“You ready to go?” she asked as she untied the horses from the small tree. She waited for him to nod. “Follow me.”
Even though he’d only known her a few days, there was something about her that made him pretty positive he’d follow her just about anywhere.
Chapter 7
“Were you raised here in Mexico?” he asked as they started the ride back down the arroyo and toward the beach.
“No, I wasn’t. I was born and raised in San Diego, but was very much steeped in the traditions of my culture, both Spanish and native. I have many relatives here in Baja, and I spent much time here as a child.”
“I haven’t seen you here before.”
“After I graduated from college, I went on to study horses and began to train them with the ancient methods. Many people didn’t understand what I was trying to do, so I decided to move down here and train in a quieter environment. I did that for years. Until I wanted to stop.”
Colin pulled Regalo beside Violet as the narrow dirt road widened into the arrow. He glanced at her, wanting to know more.
“Why did you want to stop?”
She pushed her hat back on her head and wiped her brow with her forearm, her eyes straight ahead. After a moment of silence, she turned to look at him, her brown eyes soft.
“I understand that there are different methods for all kinds of things, but the places I was finding needed horse trainers did things much differently than I wanted to.”
“Oh,” Colin said. He leaned forward and stroked Regalo’s mane. He certainly was a gentle horse, and Hanna had done a great job with him. “You certainly do know what you’re doing. Regalo is quite the gentleman.”
Hanna laughed and looked fondly at Regalo. “Well, if you’d seen him when he was gifted to me, you wouldn’t have said that.”
Colin frowned and looked down at the handsome horse. He’d taken good care of his rider and once Colin had gotten his riding legs back, they’d ridden as if a team.
“What do you mean? You didn’t have him from the beginning?”
She shook her head slowly, slowing down to watch an osprey cross the sky on its way to the sea to hunt, its baby close behind.
“No. When I got him, he and Violet had been beaten almost to death. She’d been chained for months a long time, forced to breed on a farm. When Regalo was born and strong enough, he attacked the farmers and Violet did the same. They turned them loose in the desert.”
“Oh, no,” Colin said, the image almost too painful to think of.
“I don’t know why they didn’t kill them. It was almost as if they wanted to torture them even more, leaving them to starve. Some people found them near death on the side of the road and brought them to me.”
Colin hung his head for a moment, pained by the thought.
“You’ve done a remarkable thing here, Hanna,” he said quietly. “They seem very happy, and you saved their lives.”
Her smile was back when she turned to him again. “Yes, things worked out well after a very, very long time. I had to be patient and consistent. And kind. And just wait.”
They rode a bit further and Colin rolled that all over in his mind—the commitment and love it must have taken to do that day in and day out with horses you didn’t know and who certainly didn’t want to have anything to do with you.
“So you hadn’t expected this when you moved south. You’re kind of young to be down here with all the misfits,” he said with a laugh.
She nodded. “I thought that myself for a while. But after I decided I couldn’t train horses in California, I just came down here to kind of decide what I did want to do. I had started a business creating stained glass, and I can do that down here also. It’s perfect for me, and I don’t see people that often.”
“That would explain why I haven’t seen you. Maybe it would be good for you to meet more people.”
She glanced at him quickly. “I’m not sure I want to, honestly. I like my solitude. I’m not sure why I even asked you to join me today except that I needed another rider for Regalo.”
“Thanks, a lot.” He laughed, and he saw her lips turn up in a smile under the brim of her hat. “Well, if you would like to meet more people, tomorrow is the annual Firefighter’s Fundraiser if you’d like to come. We’re doing a demonstration for the kids with the fire truck and there’s a band and barbecue. I think they’re also having an auction.”
She didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the horizon.
“Hello? Hanna?”
“Sh,” she said quickly, raising her finger to her lips. “I see something.” She pointed to an area a few hundred yards ahead and off to the right, partially hidden by a dune.
An old shack sat set back from the creek bed. Smoke came from a metal chimney sticking out the back.
“That doesn’t smell very good,” she said. “What is it?”
“Well, it’s not carne asada, that’s for sure. Barbecued beef in Mexico smells really good, and that’s not it. Smells like chemicals to me.”
“I don’t see any cars there, do you?” Her eyes drifted over the landscape of ocotillo and elephant trees toward the run-down shack.
“I think we should take a look,” he said as he urged Regalo toward the smoke.
They rode on in silence for a bit, watching the shack closely as they passed and noticing that the smoke changed color from black to white as they rode by. “Does that car look familiar?” Hanna asked.
“No, not to me,” he said, he said, looking over the aging blue Jeep. “But the smell does, sort of. I can’t quite pin it. But looks at least to be under control.”
They passed the shed and Colin slowed down, looking around the shed for anything that looked unusual. There were lots of sheds back in the desert where people lived for various and sundry reasons—mostly because they just wanted to be alone. He shook his head and decided that it really wasn’t any of his business and as they reached the beach, he galloped a bit to catch up with her. “What about the fundraiser tomorrow?” he asked again.
She looked up at him quickly, as if startled. “Oh. We’ll see,” she said, turning forward as they reached her home on the beach.
Chapter 8
The old fire engine creaked as Colin closed the compartment’s door, the water hose wound tightly inside. He wiped one more spot off the shiny red paint and stepped back, admiring his work. The truck sparkled and he smiled, feeling ready for the day’s events.
“You all ready for the show today?” he heard from behind him, followed by a smack on the shoulder. “Looks nice, Colin. Well done.”
His friend, James, smiled with him as they admired the engine, the red paint gleaming in the sun.
“She’s a beauty on the outside, even if a bit unpredictable on the inside,” he proudly said.
“I know you were a tad worried that we wouldn’t be able to pull this off today. The annual fundraiser, and the fire truck not working? Maybe we could have raised more money if they’d known we’d be responding to a house fire on bicycles carrying buckets.” James’s eyes twinkled as he teased his friend.
“I wasn’t going to let that happen. Took me five days to find the part and another three to fix it, but we’re running,” Colin said,
polishing yet one more streak off the engine he’d just washed. “Besides, we’re the only people around from across the pond. Needed to show them what we’re made of, eh?
James laughed and joined Colin in wiping off the final streaks left by washing the truck. “Who’d ever have thought that an Irishman and Englishman would be doing this together on the beach in Mexico?”
“Certainly not me,” Colin said as he stood back once more and proclaimed the truck ready to go. “Everyone’s still shocked that we’ve become friends, since they all seem to think I’m an ex-IRA member and you’re a British spy.”
James’s laugh echoed through the station as he doubled over. “Most ridiculous thing I’ve heard. It seems it’s a rumor that just won’t die. Megan still isn’t sure I’ve told her the truth. Thinks I might be James Bond in hiding.”
“Why would she think otherwise after your capture of the smugglers last month? And even of the man behind it. If you told me you were a spy, I’d believe you,” he teased.
“You know that was just a coincidence. But glad I was able to help, after all. Meeting Megan was an extra bonus.”
“And I’m not able to convince people I’ve nothing to do with the IRA either,” he said. “No matter what I say, people just look at me and smile.”
“Well, let’s give them a real show today, then. It’ll probably convince them for sure that the rumors are true and we’ll never be able to tell them otherwise.”
The old joke had been around for years, and neither one of them worked too hard to convince people it wasn’t true. They’d become fast friends and frequently laughed over it.
“Time to go, mate,” James said as he gathered the rags. “The other guys are here and I’m sure all the kids are waiting for us.”
“I bet they’re sure eager to sit in the truck, as they are every year.”
“Yeah, just like you were as a lad,” James reminded him. Colin had shared his childhood stories with James as they’d spent time after fire calls sipping tequila and chatting. Colin had shared that he’d grown up in Ireland helping his father fight fires and that had inspired Colin’s commitment to doing the same in their new home and community.
By the Light of the Moon Page 3