The Gift: A Horse, a Boy, and a Miracle of Love

by Lauraine Snelling

  “Use soap.”

  Jonah looked at her like she’d said too much, since he already had the bar in his hands.

  “Sorry.”

  He nodded, washed, and dried his hands, then headed out the door and back down the hall.

  Even the bathroom showed Mac’s love of ranching things, with another set of horns, these much smaller for the towel rack, the mirror framed in aging silvered boards, and the toilet lid covered in part of another cowhide. A cartoon model of an old cowboy reclined on the top of the tank. Even the towels were brown.

  Rebecca washed, checked her hair in the mirror, and replenished her lipstick. Okay, now go out there and enjoy what’s left of the afternoon. A good meal ahead, pleasant company. Why was she hanging out in the bathroom? The question spurred her out the door without an answer.

  She paused to watch Jonah setting the table. Mac arranged a mixture of lettuce leaves on plates while Bungee watched from a rug by the door. Feeling about as necessary as a toothache, she wandered to stand in front of the bookshelves, reading titles. Cattle veterinarian books, books on horses, Civil War tomes, Time/Life series on Indians, a wide range of fiction of all genres, biographies, children’s books, and a set of encyclopedias. The well-polished trophies on one shelf all belonged to his daughter, Danielle. Family pictures took up some space, Mac and a smiling woman with two small children, the boy younger than the girl. A head shot of the woman, school pictures of the children, an eight-by-ten of Danielle on Cody, running full-out. All clean and dust free. The man either had a good housekeeper, or he was a neat freak. She wasn’t sure which. The place was certainly not like other male domains she’d visited, not a hint of clutter, nor the look of decorator-done furnishings, just comfort—Western style.

  She turned around to find Mac watching her, a half-smile brushing his mustache. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Soda? I have a well with great water . . . .”

  “Is the coffee made? I mean, I don’t want you to go to a whole lot of trouble.”

  “Ready to pour. You take sugar or cream?” She shook her head, so he glanced to Jonah, who was making sure the silverware lined up. “Jonah, what about you?”

  “He’ll have milk if you have it.”

  A slight frown tightened his forehead, and the look he gave her would take some deciphering, but he filled a coffee mug and held it out to her. She crossed the room and took it, cradling it in her hands.

  “Thanks.” She inhaled the flavor and smiled over the rim. “Smells wonderful. Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “You can lean against that counter, enjoy your coffee, and watch me make gravy.” He nodded to a cream-tiled countertop next to the sink.

  “If that’s all . . .” She did as he’d suggested, crossing her ankles and sipping. The man certainly made good coffee. “You grind the beans?”

  “Earlier this morning. I was hoping you would stay.”

  “Your daughter won a lot of trophies.”

  “Yep. She and Cody were a real team, barrel racing and trail riding mostly. She won some in 4-H, too, fitting and showing, that kind of thing.” At the questioning look she gave him, he grinned with a slight shrug. “I’ll get out the picture albums after we eat and explain what those things are then. Pictures make it easier.”

  “I’d like that.” So where was his wife, the boy? Looking around the great room, she saw no other evidence of a woman’s touch other than the pictures. “Your son, how old is he now?”

  Mac paused in stirring the rich brown gravy. “He’s waiting for us in heaven. He and my wife were killed in a fog-related car pileup near Caliente, ten years ago in January.” The words lay between them like a chasm that looked too wide for her to cross.

  “I–I’m sorry.” She studied his profile as he went back to stirring. “Bad enough losing a mate, but I can’t imagine how bad it must be to lose a child.” Her glance went to Jonah, now sitting on the rug by the door with Bungee draped over his crossed legs.

  Mac nodded. “It was real bad. For a time there, if it hadn’t been for Dani needing me, I wasn’t sure if I’d live or die.”

  “What helped you?” The question seemed pulled from her.

  “Jesus. My family. God’s Word. I never spent much time with my Bible up till then.” He poured the gravy into a gravy boat and handed it to her, nodding toward the table. “I thought God hated me or I had done something so terrible wrong that I didn’t deserve to have a family.” He followed her with a platter piled high with sliced roast beef surrounded by potatoes and carrots and set it in front of the place setting at the end of the table.

  “Wh–what made you change?” She forced the question past lips that tried to stay glued to her teeth. What kind of nerve do I have asking questions like these? Such bad manners.

  He stopped in front of her. “Time and the grace of Almighty God. In spite of what the songs say, a broken heart does heal.”

  His eyes held the wisdom of the ages, and warmth flowed from him to wrap around her, comfortable like a fleece blanket.

  She fought the tears that threatened to overflow and turned away with a sigh. “Time to wash your hands again, Jonah.” At his look of amazement, she added, “You played with the dog.”

  He shrugged and headed for the bathroom.

  Seated at the table a few minutes later, Mac bowed his head. “Let’s say grace.” He waited a moment. “Heavenly Father, thank You for this food and my new friends. Thank You for the time to enjoy each other. In Jesus’ precious name, amen.” He looked up and smiled at each of them. “Now, I hope you are really hungry. Pass me your plates since that platter is too big to pass.”

  They both did and he added slices of roast, then the vegetables, until Rebecca said stop. He handed Rebecca her plate, then Jonah.

  “Here, hand me his so I can cut up his meat.”

  “You cut up his meat? He’s eight years old.” Mac stared at Rebecca. His eyebrows nearly met above eyes that flipped from warm to cool, like a switch had been thrown.

  Back off, Buddy. He’s my son and I do for him what I think best.

  Seven

  Lady, you are going to ruin that boy.

  Jonah waved good-bye before getting in the car. Rebecca stared straight ahead.

  Get over it, McNeally. If she wants to baby him, that’s her right. He’s her son after all. Shame they left early. No, more than a shame—downright sad. Mac shrugged into his sheepskin vest and, whistling for Bungee, he headed out to the cow pasture. This time he’d walk it; he needed the exercise and he needed to pound on something. Dirt was good for that.

  You shouldn’t have said that.

  I know. It just slipped out.

  You are usually so careful about what you say.

  I know it! I said it just slipped out.

  You better call her and apologize.

  For what?

  You know for what.

  “Good grief, Lord, is this You telling me all this or just my overactive imagination?”

  Bungee leaped at his side, yipping his answer, whether he understood the question or not.

  After checking the water trough, Mac counted the cows and watched to see if anything appeared unusual. All there and no obvious difficulties. He turned and headed back to the house, the dark empty house that, if he’d kept his mouth shut, might still have the warm presence of an interesting woman and her just-as-interesting son.

  He glanced at his watch and picked up the pace. Perhaps Dani would call tonight. Two hours’ difference, seven o’clock there. He took the steps to the deck two at a time and pulled off his boots at the jack. Time for slippers, a cup of coffee, his chair, and the Sunday paper. Perhaps there would be a good movie on tonight. If not, he had a stack of books to be read, with a good suspense on top.

  The phone rang just as he poured his co
ffee. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Hey, Dani, I was hoping you’d call.”

  “Not sinking into loneliness, are you?”

  “No, in fact I had company for dinner, Rebecca Wilkinson and her son, Jonah. They answered that ad I told you about, so I’m helping Jonah and Cody get to be friends.”

  “And you invited them to dinner? Way cool. How does Cody like them?”

  “Just fine. You know how he loves attention, but I think that horse reads people better than most psychologists. What’s going on with you?”

  “What did you mean about reading people?”

  “Well, Jonah has a bit of a problem. He lost his daddy four years ago and hasn’t spoken a word since.”

  “That poor little kid. What happened?”

  “Military.”

  “Oh.” A pause stretched before she continued. “I hope Cody can help him like he did me.”

  “Me, too.” If they ever come back. Me and my big mouth. Mac shook his head and sighed. But if she keeps on like she is, he will be ruined for life.

  “Dad?”

  Her tone gave him the feeling he missed something she’d said. “Sorry, Honey, I got sidetracked for a minute. Did you ask me something?”

  “Are you all right?”

  Am I all right? Good question. “Sure I am.” He hoped she didn’t pick up on the effort it took to say those three little words. “So, back to my question, what’s happening with you?”

  “Well, I called to ask if you’ve reserved my tickets yet.”

  “Of course.”

  “Uh, would you mind if I came home a couple days later? I’ve been invited to go skiing in Colorado with Kelly. She’s from there.”

  He started to say no, then changed his mind. “Yes, I mind, but if that is what you want to do, then you’ve surely earned a few days’ break.”

  Mac knew Kelly was Danielle’s roommate, and he also knew how much his daughter adored skiing. But I miss you so; I want you to come home.

  “Oh, Dad, you are so good to me. We’d drive to Colorado, and I’d need to fly out of Vail. How about on the twenty-first?”

  “Good as done. But I’m not decorating without you here, so don’t expect the tree to be up and all that.”

  “Good, I want to help with the decorating anyway.”

  He waited while she told Kelly the good news and heard a squeal in the background. He rubbed a place on his chest, but it didn’t go deep enough to heal the heartache. His baby was growing up, his only baby. The pain in his heart stabbed again, this time at the thought of a little boy who never had a chance to grow up and of a woman who, even though he knew resided in heaven, he still missed more than words could express.

  Thoughts of Christmas always brought on the regrets, reminding him that, while he usually functioned just fine, sometimes the grief still hit him in the heart, and he was sure it cracked again. Without Dani here, it would most likely be even worse.

  “Thanks, Dad, you’re the best.”

  “You’re welcome. Finals about on you?”

  “Next week. Pray for me, okay? I still have a paper to finish before I can get ready for the tests.”

  She’d always been uptight before finals, and then she’d ace them. “I’m praying you’ll be relaxed and give it your best.”

  “I miss you. You think sometime next semester, you could come visit me here?”

  “We’ll figure out a time.”

  “Thanks. Good night. Sweet dreams.”

  “You, too.” He caught his lower lip between his teeth, the slight pain easing the burning on the backs of his eyes. “Bye.” Her good-bye ringing in his ear, he laid the phone back in the cradle.

  Okay, McNeally, cut the maudlin.

  “Lord, take care of her. You know I can’t. I put her in Your hands, but sometimes leaving her there is mighty hard. She’s all I’ve got in this world that really counts.” A picture of his mother and father flashed through his mind. “Well, You know what I mean.” Next flashed a picture of Jonah on Cody with that heart-tugging grin of his.

  Now, isn’t that interesting? He leaned his head back against the cushion, replaying the afternoon. What a good time they’d been having up until Rebecca wanted to cut her son’s meat. And he’d mouthed off. They’d stayed long enough to be polite, but she’d shut down faster than a camera click. I suppose I do owe her an apology. He waited, hoping God would say no. No such luck. Silence. Mac sighed.

  Bungee rose from his place on the rug and came over to lay his chin on Mac’s thigh, keeping a steady gaze on his face.

  Mac stroked the dog’s head and tried to think of ways around this new problem. He could ignore the incident and write them off, sure that Rebecca would never bring Jonah back out to the ranch again. He could call and see if she had warmed up any. He could call and apologize. He could go to bed and forget the entire thing happened.

  “I could go apologize.” The word go brought Bungee’s front feet up in Mac’s lap. He ruffled the dog’s ear and pushed him down. “I’ll call.”

  A whisper of air that sounded faintly like a chuckle tickled his ear.

  The phone rang three times before she picked it up. In the meantime, he glanced at the clock to see it was already past nine. Where had the evening gone?

  “Hello.”

  “Rebecca, this is Mac, and I’m calling to apologize for being such a critical host. How you raise your son is none of my business and I . . .” Stop me anytime here. “I just wanted to tell you that and ask you to forgive me.” And please don’t take it out on Jonah and Cody that you are angry with me.

  “Oh. Ah, well . . .” The silence vibrated on the phone line. “I forgive you, I guess.”

  “Thank you.” More silence. Come on, McNeally, get your act together. “And you’ll bring Jonah out to ride?”

  “Yes.”

  Was that a grudging tone he heard, or was he imagining things? “When?” He could hear pages fluttering.

  “Is Tuesday all right?”

  He groaned. “I have a meeting with the contractor at four. How about Wednesday?”

  Again a pause. “That would be fine. Three-thirty or four?”

  They settled on four and said their good-byes. Mac hung up the phone and rehashed the conversation. So what kind of a woman was she? Did she hold grudges or would this be the end of it? She seemed a straightforward kind of person, but then what kind of judge was he? He’d only known two women really well in his life. His mother and his wife. Oh, three. Dani.

  He scrubbed his hair back. “Come on, Lord, give me a break. What man alive is there who understands women, no matter how closely related they are?”

  Eight

  “He apologized.” Rebecca stared at the phone. “He actually called me and apologized.” And here I am talking to myself, which is happening more and more. I need a friend here in town. That phone bill last month was outrageous. And it was mostly to family. Having parents stationed in Germany definitely helped support the phone company.

  She ambled back to the master bedroom—half of which she’d turned into her office. In spite of not talking, Jonah was good company. However, the evenings stretched long and lonely after he went to bed. At least she always had work to do. She opened the file she’d been working with but couldn’t bring herself to begin inputting data. Instead, she thought back to the disastrous dinner at the ranch.

  The nerve of the man, telling her how to raise her son. His tone, his words felt like she’d been whipped. Had he no empathy? After all, raising a child—a handicapped child, although she never used that word around Jonah or allowed anyone else to—was different from rearing other children. And so was being a single parent—er, mother, since he’d raised his daughter alone since she was ten.

  The thought of losing both a child and a spouse at the same time
set her stomach to churning. How ever had he made it through that? She was sure she would have bailed out on life. She had given it serious thought herself. If she hadn’t had Jonah . . .

  Lately it seemed her emotions were the ball in a Ping-Pong match.

  Monday, when she picked Jonah up after school, he motioned her to drive out toward the ranch.

  “No, we’ll go out there on Wednesday. I talked with Mac. He didn’t have time today or tomorrow.”

  Jonah clamped his arms over his chest and slumped in the seat, staring at the glove compartment, swinging one foot so that it banged the glove box.

  “How was school?”

  His lower lip came out, and he glared at her out of the corner of his eye.

  “Jonah, it’s not my fault. He has a business to run. Remember?” Where had her normally cheerful child gone, and who was this grump in his place? “And stop kicking the dash.”

  Tuesday wasn’t much better; and when Jonah woke up on Wednesday morning with a hacking cough and fever, she felt almost worse than he did.

  “Sorry, Sport, no school today.” She shook the thermometer back down and left the room to get the cough syrup from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. A tear trickled down the side of Jonah’s face.

  “Are you sad about no school?”

  He shook his head.

  “About no Cody?” He nodded and let her gather him into her arms, sobbing and coughing against her chest. “Shhh, easy, you’ll make yourself feel even worse. Here . . .” She mopped his face with a tissue and poured the cough syrup in the gauged plastic cup that came with it. “Drink this and sleep awhile and perhaps you’ll feel better.” At the hopeful look he gave her, she shook her head. “No, we won’t be going out to the ranch today. I’ll call and leave a message for Mac.”

  Jonah lay back against the pillow, his face pale enough that his eyes looked twice their normal size. Another tear meandered down his cheek, and he sniffed before turning over to clutch Jimmy Bear, a-fur-loved-off, one-eye-missing reprobate who had a tendency to get lost.