Lone Star Refuge

by Mae Nunn

  Sunday evening was a different matter, however. He’d asked her for what he called a real date—a ride at sunset on their horses and one last look at the stars. It sounded wonderful to Stella, and terrible.

  Choosing her outfit carefully, she wore Legacy Destructed jeans tucked into her riding boots that were the color of blood. On top she wore a soft, slub-knit pullover with a raw-edge trimmed V-neck. Its colors were blended—crimson, red, orange, salmon pink. The color of a sunset. She wore a leather belt with it, and carried a luxurious fire dancer scarf for later if the air was cold. In her ears were the star earrings he’d bought her at War Eagle, and around her neck was her necklace.

  Joiner showed up at her door in a new pair of jeans, polished boots, and a Western cord shirt the color of a ripe eggplant. When he pulled her into a hug and held her there, his shirt was as soft as butter. She wanted to sink into it and never move, but somehow they managed to wrench apart. They both trudged to the barn as if they were on a death march.

  “We’ve got to stop being so sad,” Joiner said. “Nobody’s dying. I’m just going to Germany. We can Skype every day.”

  “I know. It’s just so far. And we have to be honest, Joiner. Our lives are taking different directions.”

  They saddled up Vega and Pistol. Joiner tied a quilt onto his saddle, and offered one to Stella. Then they led them out of the stables and through the gate. The horses didn’t try to run. Even Pistol, it seemed, understood the somberness of the occasion.

  “How are we going to get back in the dark?” Stella asked. She hadn’t thought of that till now.

  “I brought a light.” Joiner showed her the flashlight tied on his saddle. “It’s not ideal, but it will do.”

  They rode together toward Lake Lily, where the sun was setting on the water. Then they headed to the meadow deep in the woods. The moon was rising as they spread out their quilts and lay down to look up at the sky together.

  Joiner pointed out the constellations he’d learned and said something about looking up at the same sky while he was in Germany. But Stella, who was usually so interested in stars, just lay there, memorizing the sound of his voice, the curve of his neck and the scent of leather.

  “I’m going to accept Clint’s offer, Joiner,” she finally told him. “It will make everything so much easier, for everybody.”

  “You don’t have to do that, Stella.”

  Somehow this made her angry. “Yes I do, Joiner. You don’t understand! And it’s none of your concern now anyway.”

  He reached out to hold her in the dark. “You’re wrong about that,” he said softly. “I’ll always care about what concerns you.”

  She wanted to yell at him, to beat her fists against his chest. To somehow will him to care as much as she did, as much as Clint did. But that wasn’t fair. Joiner had his own dreams to chase. Neither one of them were willing to leave their dreams behind to be together. As much as she’d like to blame him, it was a two-way street.

  “Stella, I want you to do something for me while I’m gone.” His voice was husky.

  “What is it?”

  “I want you to take care of Pistol.”

  She rose up to try to see him better, even though it was dark. “Pistol? What do you mean? Aren’t you taking him with you?”

  Joiner choked out the words, “No, I’m not.”

  “Why? He’s a polo pony.”

  “I know, Stella. But I negotiated it out with Piet. He’s providing all of my ponies so I can leave Pistol here with you. He’s yours.”

  “Mine? What are you talking about?”

  “I gave Buster the papers. He’s your horse, and you and Buster can go right on breeding him out of this ranch and make all of the money you need to supplement the school.”

  Stella’s heart began to race. He couldn’t be giving her Pistol. He couldn’t. That was insane.

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  “It’s already done.” Joiner cleared his throat. “And if you choose to move forward with Clint, that’s okay, too. Just think of this as my way of giving you choices. Options. So you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do to keep your dream alive.”

  Stella fell on his neck, kissing him. The tears falling down her face melted into the ones he was crying, as well. They kissed, and clung to one another till they fell asleep, totally spent, underneath the stars. And they didn’t awaken till sunrise.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  IN A WAY, it was good, how it all happened. When Joiner awoke in Stella’s arms at sunrise he had no time to think, he just had to move or he wouldn’t make it to the airport. Thankfully, their horses were grazing nearby, and they hopped on both of them and galloped home.

  Stella was not taking him to the airport. On this they had previously both agreed. It would be too hard. As Mac was keeping his truck for him, Joiner was supposed to be at Mac’s at eight so Mac could drive him to Tyler, where he was catching a puddle jumper to Dallas. From there it was a direct flight to Frankfurt, and then another regional flight into Berlin, where Piet Quade’s people would be picking Joiner up.

  “Text me when you get there.” She made an effort to be perky.

  “I will.”

  She stroked Pistol’s star as they stood together in the stable. “Pistol and I will be waiting to hear.”

  “Pistol will be asleep and you should be, too.” Joiner grinned. He wrapped a piece of her hair around his index finger and twirled it, hoping he looked more at ease than he felt. Then he cupped her face in both of his hands and kissed her, closing his eyes and breathing her in, one last time.

  When the kiss was over, she told him to wait just a moment. Raising her hands to her neck, she unhooked her necklace and then slid it around his neck. “You helped me heal, Joiner. And I hope you find what you need to heal, as well.”

  *

  HE SHOWERED QUICKLY, thanking God he already had everything packed. He threw on the pair of jeans and black T-shirt he’d left out, stuffing his dirty clothes into his bag. He wore the same boots as the night before, and took the dark purple cord shirt to wear over his T-shirt as a jacket. It smelled like rain mixed with lemon. He wasn’t ready to part with it yet. Then he put on his hat.

  When he pulled into the driveway, Mac was standing at the ready, of course, with a mug full of coffee for Joiner. He jumped in the driver’s seat and headed to Tyler.

  “Thanks for the coffee, man.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “That’s one thing I’m going to enjoy about Germany—the good coffee.”

  “I know. You’ll have to invest in your own espresso machine.”

  “I plan on it.” Joiner took a big sip. “Thanks for driving me, too.”

  “It’s so dumb that you’re flying from Tyler to Dallas. I could have driven you to DFW.”

  “I didn’t want to put you out, man. DFW is a full two hours from Kilgore, where Tyler is thirty minutes.” Joiner took another sip of his coffee. “You have to work today. This just made more sense.”

  “Well, whatever. Can’t do anything about it now.” Mac straightened his glasses. “So, I keep this truck until you’re sure you’re not going to need it and then you want me to sell it?”

  “Yeah. That’s the plan. And we may have to use the money for my taxes. We’ll just have to see how that plays out.”

  Mac nodded. “After all of that money you made breeding Pistol and now running off to a six-figure salary, I’d say your tax stuff will change quite a bit next year.”

  “Yeah. Might have to give yourself a raise.” Joiner snickered.

  But Mac was serious. “You sure you’re not going to get over there and come straight back home to Stella?”

  Joiner frowned. “I’ve already made that break, Mac. Hardest thing I’ll ever have to do.”
/>   “When do you think we’ll see you again?”

  “I’ll definitely come visit in the off-seasons, and some holidays. And you guys can always come over there.”

  “I plan on it,” Mac said.

  Joiner looked at him, surprised. “Really? ’Cause a European vacation doesn’t really sound like you, Mac, even though I’d enjoy nothing more than to see your ugly mug in Germany.”

  “Really, Joiner. I’ll do it.”

  “Cool.”

  Before Joiner knew it they were driving up to the little airport in Tyler where Mac dropped him off at the curb.

  “I love you, man. Be safe.”

  “I love you, too, bro.”

  *

  ONCE JOINER ARRIVED at Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport he had a short layover. It was ten o’clock and his plane left at twelve noon. He decided to look for something decent to eat and then sit down and read. Carrie had given him another John Green book as a going-away present and he figured he’d like it. He hoped it would get his mind off leaving Stella, because nothing else was.

  He purchased a bowl of fruit and yogurt and a caramel macchiato from Starbucks. He’d be wired after drinking Mac’s coffee, too, but what did it matter? He had miles to go.

  He found his gate and sat down in one of the empty seats. A mother and daughter sat across from him, sharing a crepe and studying a guidebook for Europe. The two of them looked so carefree. They were both blonde and blue-eyed, the daughter an early teen, and the mother in her forties. He imagined this to be how Stella and Lily had been when they’d been together. Adventurous, content and happy together. The world full of pearls and the two of them sharing an oyster knife.

  He was glad he had been able to help Stella heal from her loss, as she said, though he didn’t know how he’d helped exactly. Perhaps dealing with his issues of recklessness had forced her to confront her fear. But that could hardly be considered helpful on his part. Whatever had happened, she had overcome it and decided to live her life to the fullest. She was the strongest person he knew.

  He pulled out his iPhone and checked the time. One o’clock. What would she be doing right now? He guessed she’d be taking care of a client, though he couldn’t remember who. On his side of things, Buster would be giving a riding lesson to the first of the nursing home ladies. They’d continue in a straight string till school got out, then Adelaide and Sophia would come on the bus. He sighed at the thought of them, of Stella and Buster, of Pistol. Of his life. He’d had a good time there on the ranch.

  He felt a pang of guilt when he thought about Pistol. Buster had told him once that a man who couldn’t love a horse could never love a woman. But Joiner did love his horse. The only thing that could have ever made him leave that horse behind was the reason he had left him—his love for a woman. He hoped his gift would empower her to make the choices she wanted for her life. Even if the choice she made someday was Clint. At least his gift would take her need for money off the table for both of them.

  The teenage girl across from Joiner nudged him just as he registered the flight attendant’s message. “Final boarding call. Flight 1293 nonstop to Frankfurt, Germany.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  STELLA WIPED THE tears from her eyes for what she hoped was the last time, but who was she kidding? The dust Joiner’s truck had stirred up as he left the driveway had just settled. He was officially gone from the ranch, gone from Star Stables Equestrian Therapy, and as good as gone from her life.

  She shook her head as though to clear it. It was time for her to go to work. Her first client would be there at eight. She and Daune needed to meet for a few minutes and discuss their therapy strategy.

  She was glad she had Daune to rely on today. Stella could not imagine a calmer, steadier presence, or a time when she had needed such a presence, at least in recent history.

  For the first three clients Daune basically took the lead and Stella acted as her assistant. At eleven o’clock she asked if Daune could handle the next one by herself. Janie was there as a volunteer; she could help. Stella needed some time alone in her office. She walked through the stable to check on Pistol. He seemed fine, as did Vega, though they were both a little worn. Then she stepped through her office door and closed it behind her. The ghost of Joiner was everywhere. She’d never be able to separate thoughts of him from Pistol, and his presence was even here in her office. She remembered him in the chair across the desk from her, then kissing her, then sitting in her chair, with her on his lap and kissing her some more.

  She had not changed clothes since the night before. There’d been no time this morning before work, although she had shed her scarf in the office. Grabbing it now from her chair, she wrapped it around her, and there he was, too. The scent of leather. Tears began to flow.

  Stella sat at her desk, not knowing whether it was best to try to pull herself together or allow herself to mourn. Looking at her mother’s picture, it was her father’s words that came back to her. If you find the one you can’t live without, don’t live without him, no matter what you have to give up. She suddenly knew what she had to do.

  All of this time she’d been focused on losing her home, losing control of her school, losing her dream…but now she realized that without Joiner, none of that really mattered to her. Because even if all she had was Joiner, she’d be happy. She’d have everything she needed. It was time to throw her carefully calculated caution to the wind.

  “Buster,” she called as she ran past the arena where he was giving a riding lesson. “I’m leaving! You and Daune are in charge!”

  The clock in her car said twelve fifteen as she barreled out of the driveway. Normally it took her over two hours to get to DFW but that was not going to happen today. Not if driving as if she was on the autobahn would make a difference.

  “Call Cha Cha Smith!” Stella ordered Siri.

  “Calling Cha Cha Smith,” the automated voice answered.

  After a few rings, Cha Cha picked up. “Hello?”

  “I need you to look up a flight for me.”

  “What?” Cha Cha sounded addled. “Stella? What are you doing?”

  “I’m racing to the airport to go find Joiner!”

  “You are? Great!”

  “Can you search for flight 1293 to Frankfurt out of DFW? I’ve got to know his gate!”

  “Sho ’nuf. I’ll call you back in a few.”

  In just a few minutes Cha Cha’s call came in through Stella’s Bluetooth.

  “Hey!”

  “Okay, it’s Gate D35.”

  “Thank you!”

  “Good luck, sweet girl! I am rooting for you!”

  *

  STELLA KEPT THE pedal to the metal the whole time. She was a person who never went over the speed limit but today was a different kind of day. She just dreaded seeing any blue lights because then she’d have to stop. She hoped since she had never even gotten a warning, the odds would be in her favor this one time.

  The closer to DFW she got, the worse traffic became. She’d been to the big airport on several occasions but always with someone else. Usually, like when she flew to see Cha Cha, someone dropped her off. It was different trying to negotiate it alone. There were arrows here and arrows there. It seemed very convoluted. Finally she saw an arrow for international gates. She took it, racing the clock, which said one forty-five. Joiner’s flight left at two o’clock.

  When Stella found Gate D, she pulled her car up to the curb and parked it. She jumped out and ran as fast as she could.

  “Ma’am,” the attendant called after her. “Parking here is just for unloading.”

  “I’m sorry! It will have to be towed!”

  The man looked completely puzzled, but Stella didn’t care. She would worry about her car later. She had to stop Joiner from getting on that plane!

  Once inside the terminal, she took an escalator up to D1. The wide hallway was full of meandering people, some in a hurry, some dragging luggage and walking as slow as molasses. Stella took off
running with all of her might. Her boots clacked on the tile floor. She could see gate thirty-five in the distance—a long ways away. Would she ever make it in time?

  She arrived, breathless, to find the seating area empty. It was five past two. Her heart pounded in her chest. There was an empty Pepsi can in one of the seats, and a candy wrapper in another. But no sign of Joiner. The gate was closed, and the desk area was desolate except for a blank flat-screen. There was no one to ask about anything. Stella put her hands on the window, looking out to the tarmac, and pressed her face to the cold glass. She watched as the huge plane taxied away. It carried part of her with it—a part she knew she would never get back.

  She sank to her knees and then sat cross-legged on the floor. Still facing the window, head in her hands, she began to sob uncontrollably.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  JOINER BOARDED THE plane and found his seat. As he’d purchased his tickets so close to the date of departure, he’d had to take what he could get. And what he got was the seat at the very back of the plane in the aisle, right by the toilet.

  “Great seats, huh?” The mother of the teenage girl was seated beside him, giving her daughter the window seat.

  “Yeah,” Joiner said. “How’d we get so lucky?”

  “I think we’re here because we bought the cheapest tickets we could find.”

  “Budget travelers,” the girl added. It didn’t seem to bother her any. She gazed out the window as if there could be some great wonder to behold at any minute.

  Joiner fastened his seat belt. He stretched out his legs as much as he could, which wasn’t much. This was going to be a long flight. But at least he had pleasant company.

  As the flight attendant instructed them in the rules of safety, Joiner’s thoughts turned once again to Stella. She would probably have listened attentively to the flight attendant’s instructions, he thought. Doing everything the flight attendant said. She’d be a great person to have by your side if there was ever an accident.