"Kit, I went to a lot of trouble setting up the piece with the Times. It’s free publicity that we can't afford to pass up. This is your career we're talking about. We only have twelve days before the exhibition."
"But but..." Kit tried to speak, but Sybil cut her off, interrupting.
"Now really Kit," Sybil said, in a condescending tone, "you absolutely must get your priorities straight. This is much more important than some little play-date."
Sybil was still talking when she heard the click of Kit hanging up on her. Sybil's face had an exasperated look as she held the phone out in front of her.
"I don't believe it. She just hung up on me! Of all the insolent, ungrateful-" Sybil said, as her voice trailed off in to silence. Just a few minutes went by.
"Julia Davis is on line two for you," Sybil's assistant said.
"Uh oh," Sybil said, "I think I'm about to get an ass-chewing."
"What the hell are you doing?" Julia's words poured out, angrily.
"I'm trying to do my job!" Sybil came back defensively. "I thought Kit would be happy that we’re getting some publicity for the exhibition."
"If I remember right, we had an agreement that I would be representing Kit in all matters pertaining to her artwork. That includes publicity and scheduling.” Julia countered.
"I just scheduled a photographer to take some publicity stills and someone from the Times was going to do a story on her," Sybil explained. "You know as well as I do that you can't buy publicity like that!"
"So you gave her one day's notice? You decided that she should drop whatever plans she had, just to fit your schedule?"
"She's a kid,” Sybil said, "What could she possibly have to do that would be more important than this exhibition. It's the starting point of her art career."
"Yes, she's a kid. So let her be a kid. It's not for you, or me, or anyone else to say what is, and what isn't, important to her. From this point on, you go through me, okay? That goes for coordinating any pickups of her work as well."
"Well, if you insist," Sybil said, timidly.
"I do insist, Sybil," Julia replied. "Now I've confirmed her availability for the day-after tomorrow, if you would like to re-schedule those appointments for then. Call me back and let me know if that is acceptable, and I will get back to Kit.”
"She's a lucky girl to have you so protective of her," Sybil said, now backing down in the face of Julia's unexpected ire, "So, we still friends?"
"I suppose," Julia replied, still a bit irritated with her. "I just wish it was less about the money, and more about the art, with you."
"Well, you have to admit; I've made a lot of money for you," Sybil said. "You weren't complaining then."
"And if that was all that mattered, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Don't worry, that kid, (as you call her), will make a lot of money for you. I just won't let anyone sacrifice her happiness for it."
"Calm down, Julia. She already has a mother."
Julia winced from Sybil's remark, and felt the anger boil up inside her.
"Shut up Sybil!" Julia said, "If you ever want us to be friends again, just shut the hell up!" Julia slammed the phone down on the receiver.
Sybil didn't exactly know what she had said that offended Julia so much. She only knew that whatever it was; it was the angriest she had ever known her.
"Why do people keep hanging up on me?" Sybil vented to her assistant. With a confused look, the assistant just shrugged his shoulders.
Julia called Kit and told her about her conversation with Sybil.
"I'm sorry that you and Sybil had an argument over me. I didn't mean to cause trouble for you," Kit said. "It's just that she wouldn't let me get in a word to explain."
"That's okay Kit. It felt good actually. I mean, I consider her a friend, but it's been coming for quite a while. She just has to learn that the world doesn't turn on her schedule. You go tomorrow and have fun, okay."
"Thanks Julia," Kit said, "I really mean it, thanks!”
Early the next morning David met Kit outside her apartment, and they went to a nearby storage facility. David slid the key into the padlock, removed it and lifted the door. He pulled back a heavy tarp to reveal a fire engine red, pickup truck. It was a 1953 Chevy, that looked as if it had just rolled off the showroom floor. The circular decal emblem on each door read: Tyson Ranch, Billings, Montana, with the black silhouette image of a horse at a full run in the center. Even the finely crafted wooden sideboards, were beautifully done, in richly colored tones and wood burned scrollwork.
"My Pa found it in one of our pastures when we bought the ranch. It was a real wreck then, all rusted and banged up. He put a lot of hours and tender loving care to bring it back to life. Almost everything is original. We rebuilt the engine; the transmission and Ma sewed all the interior upholstery. My Uncle Ray did the paint job. You'd like Ray; he's something of an artist himself, when it comes to cars and trucks.”
"Oh David, it's just beautiful. Are you sure your father won't mind us using it?"
"It's not his," David replied. "He gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. He told me then; it was mine to do with as I pleased. It's been sitting in storage since we got here. It's not the best on gas, but it will get you where you want to go. I'm itching to get it out on the road again."
"Are you a good driver?" Kit asked.
"Yes, I'm a good driver," he answered, "I should be. I started driving the tractor and the truck as soon as my legs could reach the pedals. Most kids have to learn, if they're going to be much help around a ranch."
David drove out of the city and headed north. Before long, they were in the country passing farms, orchards and the rural villages of Upstate New York. They passed quaint little stores and roadside vendors selling their fruits and vegetables. Kit had never been to the country before and the sights, sounds, and even the smells were both foreign and amazing to her.
"What is that strange odor?" Kit asked David as they passed a field with several cows' grazing.
"Well, it could be fresh air, but I'd say it's more likely the smell of cow manure you're not familiar with."
"Whew, that's cow shit?" Kit asked, as she made a sour face.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it," He said laughing.
"Wow, there's just so much space," Kit said, as her eyes scanned in all directions. "How much longer do we have to go?"
"We're almost there, just a couple more miles."
The bright-red truck gleamed in the sun as David turned off the main road. An arched sign over a gated entrance read simply; "Miller Ranch." David got out of the truck and pressed a button on an intercom system at the gate. A female voice on the other end asked, "Is that you, David?"
"Yes, Jessie, it's me," David replied.
"Well, come on up. I've been expecting you."
The motorized gate swung open and David drove up the long paved driveway. At the top of the drive, there was the most magnificent house that Kit had ever seen. She thought that it looked like something out of "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" or "MTV's Cribs".
"Holy cow, David, where are we?" Kit asked, looking around in amazement.
"Well, remember Xanadu's Princess, the horse you won all the money betting on at Belmont the other day. Jessie and her husband Carl, own her. Pa is the trainer for their horses."
"Wow, are they like, really, really rich?" Kit asked.
"Yeah, he's some corporate attorney, but the horses are really Jessie's thing."
David pulled his truck into a parking area next to the stables. He and Kit got out and walked toward the house.
"Come on, I'll introduce you to Jessie," David said.
David led Kit around to the side of the huge house, to a patio area near the stables. Behind the house, a shiny blue and yellow Bell Jet Ranger helicopter occupied a paved helipad. A round-faced, middle-aged woman with short-cropped, bright red hair greeted them. She wore blue jeans, a green silk blouse and black cowboy boots. Her cheeks displayed the perennial sunbu
rn, common with fair-skinned redheads, who spend the majority of their time outdoors.
"Kit, this is Jessie Miller," David said, "Jessie, this is my girlfriend, Kit Collins."
"His girlfriend," Kit thought to herself, "he introduced me as his girlfriend. He never did that before."
Kit hadn't anticipated the effect that the words had on her. Her heart swelled with the mixture of pride and happiness she felt at the sound of them. She felt her face flush hot as he smiled at her.
"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Miller," Kit said politely.
"Please, call me Jessie," The woman said. "The house may be fancy, but I'm just a simple Texas farm girl at heart. Won't you two sit and visit with me a spell. We don't get too many visitors here. A body gets lonesome for company sometimes."
Kit and David sat at the table as their host poured them a glass of ice cold lemonade and offered them a slice of her own lemon parfait. They had got started so early that they hadn't ate anything before their drive, so they were both starved. Jessie conversed amiably while they ate. As they talked, two large black and white Great Danes bounded up. One came over to Kit and rested his huge head in her lap.
"Tar," Jessie scolded, "leave our guests be. Sorry, he just loves to have his head scratched. I'm afraid he can be a bit of a nuisance."
A little overwhelmed by their massive size, Kit, nevertheless, started to scratch the huge dog's head and around his ears. His enjoyment was readily apparent.
"I'm afraid you've made a friend for life," Jessie said.
Kit noticed the second Dane turn in circles several times then lay down next to Jessie's chair.
"What's the other one's name?" Kit asked.
"That's Cinder; she's Tar's mother. She's getting kind of old, so she sleeps a lot these days. She's also a bit arthritic; I'm afraid."
"I understand you had a good hunch about my Xanadu. That was a sizable wager you put on her. I'm glad she came in for you," Jessie said.
"Yes, it was a really exciting race," Kit said.
"She'll be expecting a treat when you go see her," Jessie said.
"Does your husband ride?" Kit asked.
"Carl?" Jessie laughed. "Oh heavens, no. That's his horse," she said, pointing to the helicopter. "It wouldn't be here today if he didn't have to fly to Chicago for a deposition. No, the horses are strictly for me; I'm afraid. It's a source of a lot of friction between us. He claims he can't even sit out on his own patio because I had the stable built too close to the house; the smell of horse manure and the flies it attracts, you know. I just insisted on having my babies close to me. Last year, he offered to buy me a yacht, if I'd get rid of the horses. Why the very idea! Can you just see me on a yacht cruising around the world?" Kit admitted she couldn't, just from what little she already knew about her.
"So Kit, are you ready for your first riding lesson?" Jessie asked.
"I hope so," Kit said, a hint of trepidation in her voice.
"Don't worry, you'll do fine. David is an excellent horseman and a great teacher."
"I'm not worried," Kit said. And she wasn't; she trusted him completely.
"Good. That's the spirit," Jessie said. "Then I'll leave you two. I have some calls to make, but I expect you to stop back for some more lemonade when you're through."
David led Kit to the stables and walked to the far end. Kit counted at least a dozen horses as she followed David.
"Jessie," Kit said, "she's quite a character."
"That she is," David agreed. "But you have to give Jessie her due. She's a hard worker. I've seen her shovel manure with the best of them. And she can break a green horse as well as any man. I think that comes from her simple upbringing on her father's ranch. You see she was a waitress in Galveston when she met Carl. Guess she was quite a looker in those days. He married her on their third date. They just up and eloped to Las Vegas. A lot of couples wouldn't have lasted, but they just celebrated their twenty-third anniversary."
"It was no wonder that Carl was a little put out by Jessie's obsession with her horses," Kit thought. "She was a little odd, but in a sweet and charming way."
Kit instantly recognized an old friend who had won her heart, and a substantial sum of money for her. She paused to say hello. Xanadu's Princess stood proud and beautiful in her stall, direct from her win at Belmont. Kit stroked her muzzle. David reached into his pocket and pulled out some cut sections of apples and carrots.
"Here," David said, "feed her some of these. She earned them."
"She won't accidentally bite me?" Kit asked, cautiously.
"No, just hold them in the palm of your hand and let her take them. It only tickles a bit."
Kit did just as he said and marveled at the softness of her muzzle against her hand. It felt like velvet.
"I wonder what it would be like to sit on her," Kit said.
"Oh, she's way to spirited for most riders. Even experienced jockeys can have a hard time controlling them sometimes. They're born and bred to run, and they're never happier than when they're racing around a track," David said.
Kit watched as David turned out the last two horses in the row of stalls. She stood impressed as his experienced hands saddled and bridled them. His easy relaxed manner seemed to calm them.
"This here is Thunder," David said, "I'll be riding him. He's a gelding."
"What's a gelding?" Kit asked.
"That's a male horse that's been castrated."
"That's terrible," Kit said, "Why would they do that to him?"
"Calms them down, makes them better behaved. A stallion would be much harder to control around a mare when she came into heat, you know, ready to breed."
"But how would you like it if someone decided to do that to you?" Kit asked, pressing her argument.
"But I'm not a horse, am I Kit? Have you ever heard of the term anthropomorphism?"
"No," Kit confessed.
"That's when someone assigns human characteristics and emotions to animals. That's a big mistake on a ranch or a farm. Animals have to pull their weight and be useful, whether for work, or for food, and a ranch can't afford the costs to feed and make pets of them." David sensed from Kits, still puzzled look, that he was still not making a convincing argument with her. He continued... "For example; you go to the supermarket and buy a steak. You ever think about the fact that an animal had to die so that you could enjoy that steak, or that chicken, or even that hot dog. Unless you have a notion that you intend to be a vegetarian the rest of your life, you have to come to terms with the fact that you are a carnivore, and as such, you eat animals. Just because you aren't the one slaughtering them, doesn't change the facts. In 4-H club, I raised calves, even gave them names occasionally, but I never had any illusions that they were pets, or what their ultimate fate would be. Sometimes dogs get a free pass on this, but even they are work animals on a ranch. It's their job to provide protection from predators to livestock and people, as well as helping with the herding chores. Providing companionship to people tends to extend a dog's useful life when they can no longer work. City life shields you from all that reality. You tell me, which is more honest?"
Kit nodded her understanding, but remained confused. There was more to this than she thought, and it was a point-of-view that she had never heard expressed before. She sensed that David had deeply rooted opinions, reinforced by his life in Montana, and was not afraid to defend them.
"And this here is Athena. She's a mare, you know, a girl horse. She is very gentle and does well with new riders. She's the perfect horse for you to start with."
David handed the reigns over to Kit. She stood there with a questioning look on her face.
"Just, do as I do, and lead her out. I'll show you how to get mounted when we get outside."
David patiently explained what was expected of Kit. Before long, she was galloping alongside him and starting to feel confident. David had said that when you were doing everything right, that horse and rider, became one. She didn't feel that way yet, but she was making rapid pro
gress.
They stopped for a rest by a small stream and dismounted, allowing the horses the opportunity to drink. David tied the horses, and he and Kit laid down on the bank under a tree.
"Well, what do you think so far?"
"It's amazing!" Kit said, “It's nothing like riding a bike."
"No, I suppose not. A horse has a mind of its own. That they tolerate someone riding them at all, is something of a miracle, when you think about it. Someday, I'd like to try riding a camel, or maybe even an elephant," he added, "I bet that would be an experience."
Kit loved it when he would go off on his little flights of imagination. To her, it showed how truly complex he actually was. He enjoyed the basic things in life, but he had a sense of wonder and curiosity about the rest of the world as well. Like her, he wanted to see and experience life, and all it had to offer. No, she thought, this was no simple cowboy!
David rolled on to his side next to Kit as she lay on her back looking up at him.
"You're doing really well," David said, trying to be encouraging.
"So are you," Kit replied.
"But this isn't my first time riding a horse."
"I wasn't talking about riding a horse," she said, placing a hand around his neck with a slightly seductive smile.
"Oh," he said, then bent down, trailing kisses across her face. His mouth felt the softness of her lips and brushed against them in teasing circles. She felt the warmth of his breath on her face and when his mouth opened against hers, she reveled at how good he tasted on her tongue. The feeling was so intoxicating that she was instantly disappointed when he stopped.
David suddenly got to his feet, extended a hand and pulled her up to a standing position.
"We better start back," he said, "before we do something we shouldn't." Kit tried to mask her disappointment.
David collected the horses and gave Kit a leg up to her mount. They moved at a slow pace, holding hands, their horses side by side, as the afternoon sun waned in the sky. The last couple of hundred yards he let go and burst forward at a full gallop. Kit made a half-hearted attempt at chasing him the final distance to the stable, but slowed. She was now feeling a bit "saddle sore" as he helped her off Athena. She took the reigns and walked her horse stiffly toward the stalls.
The Ghost Locket Page 14