Sanctuary

by Alene Adele Roy

  “Which songs?” she continued, giggling.

  “Wait a minute. I’ve heard you sing and you’re good at it. Why don’t you sing to me?” he asked.

  “You’re good at it, too. Perhaps we should sing to each other or sing a song together,” was her comeback.

  “I don’t know, Rachael. Let’s think on that one for awhile, shall we?”

  “I think I’d be much too nervous to sing. What about your ring? When can we shop for it? I believe I can afford it now. Of course, we have plenty of time for that, don’t we? I’m so glad we are working out the details in advance.”

  “I had not thought about my ring, either,” he admitted. “Picnics should not be this intense.”

  She laughed. “Let’s go view rings on Monday,” she suggested. “I’d at least like to look at some and price them.”

  “Yes, we shall do that. Monday it is. Now, is there anything else on your mind, future Mrs. Davis?”

  “Food!”

  “Any!”

  She laughed. “What about my veil?” she then asked, postponing the honeymoon discussion even further. “Of course, a man wouldn’t be interested in discussing that detail.”

  A thought now crossed his mind. “Wrong. My mother offered to create your veil, if you wish.”

  “Why didn’t you speak to me of this sooner? I would love for her to do it. What a sweet gesture.”

  “Well, you were away. She mentioned it when she came daily to visit while I was convalescing. Our wedding was such a joy to discuss. It cheered me, and was so far in the future. You know I would have discussed it with you closer to the date. She is a very fine seamstress. She created Emma’s veil.”

  “She did? You should not have waited to speak to me of her offer. We are in the planning stages right now. I must know these things, because I would have started creating one myself, or borrowed Mariah’s, or one from my family, or purchased one.” She quickly explained her feelings on the issue.

  He was silent for a moment. “Thank you, Rachael, Hathaway for being patient with me. You have not only helped to heal my leg, but you have eased my heart and mind, as well, by talking about our wedding. I’ve enjoyed helping to plan it and I now am certain that it will happen one day.” John was thrilled, as he turned to stare at his grazing horses, another love of his.

  Rachael followed his gaze, knowing he was ready to have the subject changed. “They are lovely animals. I’m so glad we rode them here today, and also happy that they were safe and well taken care of by your parents.”

  “I am, too. It was a great relief to me. I haven’t told you yet, but I rode them for the first time since their return, while you were away. Oh, did I tell you my parents will host a thank you luncheon for the searchers at their home at Sunset Place?”

  “No, you didn’t. That is such a lovely idea. I look forward to it.”

  “They also said they would help us with the wedding.”

  “That is so nice of them. I’m glad they like horses, like we do. I love animals, especially Hope, our sweet kitten, and my pets back home. Thank you for bringing her to me. Have you seen her lately?”

  “You are very welcome. That kitten was wonderful for me, too. She saved my life, with your help, of course, and no, I haven’t seen her lately. Perhaps she is visiting Black Woods Castle again. Did you know a horse’s height is measured in hands?”

  “Yes, I lived on a farm, but tell me more, please.” She laughed and requested at the same time.

  “A hand equals four inches,” he continued. “Some horses have lived for forty years, but the average lifespan is fifteen to twenty. Those under one year of age are called foals. Surprisingly, drawings of them have been found in caves, and even their fossils have been discovered. In prehistoric times, in the period before written history, those mammals dwelled in the forests and were leaf eaters. But those tropical forests then became lowland savannahs, or grasslands, with only scattered trees and flowers upon them. Later, in the central part of the continents, that terrain eventually evolved into plains, steppes, wide, level grass-covered land with variable temperature ranges, or veldts, which were open grasslands with some trees and shrubs. Horses had to adapt to grazing on those grasses and available vegetation. But they became fast runners at the same time.”

  “I would have liked to have seen those prehistoric horses.” She was interested in his every word. “We’d probably think them strange today. I would also like to see the drawings of them and the terrain.”

  “Yes, I understand that they have changed or evolved over time, because of available food, soil, climate, and temperature changes. I’m sure we’d be thrilled seeing the drawings of them in the caves I’ve heard about in my travels. I’m told that depictions of some show horses with long hair, possibly to protect them from harsh elements, cold or hot weather. Rachael, I don’t wish to race my horses again.”

  “Let’s give the horses their treats, shall we?” she suggested, producing two carrots and some apple slices from their picnic basket. Afterward, they took the pair for a drink of cool water in a small pool at the edge of the marsh. Happily watching the pair drink and the bird activity nearby, prompted Rachael to comment. “This is such a lovely place. Even the animals enjoy it here. This is really a nature sanctuary. I’d love to come back for some columbine seed when the plants mature later this summer.”

  “We shall absolutely do that,” agreed John. “Because of Craggy Eggy Moor, many species thrive in our area. It provides food, water, shelter, and nesting places that many birds and animals require in order to survive, thrive, and reproduce. It’s also an excellent plant habitat. One good example is the beautiful columbines, as you can see. Furthermore, I believe it was some of these very owls which came to serenade me each afternoon in the oak trees of Black Woods, while I was convalescing at my grandparents’ home.”

  “It probably was.” Her gaze now turned skyward. “Oh, what a show!” she exclaimed, as several owls and a heron swooped past them, the owls dipping and diving for food or at some animal. “John, that’s it!”

  “What?” he asked, astounded by her reaction and announcement. “Do you want to raise owls?”

  “No, silly, but since you no longer wish to race Chocolate and Butterscotch, you might consider hosting a horse show in the barn, away from the elements. That way, you could arrange it for any kind of weather, and the children would love it. We could offer rides. Let’s show the rabbits, too! Children love petting them.”

  “Rachael, I love those ideas. What made you think of them?”

  “The show that is happening right here and now, before our very eyes, brought it to mind.”

  Turning, they led the horses back to the picnic area. “We’d better be going now. We’ll just let them graze for a few moments more while we pack,” he informed her. Yet, that was a big mistake, or maybe not.

  “Are you sure?” she questioned.

  “Yes, they’ll be fine,” he assured her.

  So, she dropped the reins of Butterscotch and proceeded to pack and shake crumbs from the tablecloth. The horses whinnied. When John and Rachael turned toward them, the animals suddenly bolted, galloping out of sight. “We’ll have to rename this area ‘Gallop Moor,’” she laughed and teased. “I’m sorry I scared them while shaking the tablecloth.”

  “Gallop Moor is funny and appropriate, Rachael,” he laughed. “Don’t worry. They’ll be back.”

  “You seem pretty certain of that. I hope you’re right.”

  “Screeeeech! Screeeeech!” Shockingly, a pair of owls swooped down from Owls Tor on Great Cliff, to call loudly, while flying low over the marsh. John and Rachael did not know yet that those calls were warning cries.

  He scanned the area and spotted a varmint. “You didn’t scare them, honey, a coyote did! Presently, it’s coming this way, so climb that tree, Rachael! I’ll help you! I’m right behind you. We’ll be sa
fe up there. Hold on tight to the branches.”

  “How long do you think we’ll be treed?” she asked, climbing higher, onto a sturdy branch to make room for him, as if he could answer that question accurately. “John, the animal is creeping closer. It seems to be stalking us. It’s well aware of our presence, you know,” she whispered, fear rising into her throat.

  “Who! Who! Who!” He called loudly, imitating the owls’ calls. “I’m hoping that my voice will scare that rascal and I’m thanking the owls for their warning, at the same time, Rachael.”

  “You have to go, ‘Screeeech! Screeeech! Screeech! John,” she explained, laughing.

  This put him into a laughing fit. “Rachael, quit being so funny or I’ll fall right out of this tree and that brute will eat me. I can’t fly, you know.”

  “Well, those nocturnal birds are venturing out for an afternoon flight. Watch them. They seem to appreciate our efforts, John,” she told him, in defense of their owl calls. In a moment, she exclaimed, pointing, “Will you look at that? Birds are helping us!”

  It astounded both of them to see owls and other birds diving at the menacing-demon, prairie wolf.

  “I’m amazed that they are helping! It’s as if they sense we’re in trouble.” His voice was filled with excitement and awe, as he watched the show of diving birds and running coyote.

  “I see it, but they’re protecting themselves, as well! Several different kinds of birds, large and small, are trying to scare the animal by diving at it.”

  “He’s a mangy looking creature, isn’t he?” John’s eyes were fixed on the threat. “But he can’t climb trees, Rachael. So, we’ll be fine here.”

  “That’s good, but for how long, because he looks like he needs a meal?” she admitted, tightening her grip. “I’m getting tired of this tree already.”

  “Well, we’re not going to be his meal. We’ll be heading home for dinner soon.”

  “He’s circled around, though. The owls haven’t been completely successful in scaring him away.”

  John heard and sensed her fear. “The birds did startle him, though, Rachael. But watch this.” He whistled. Coyote ears twitched some and stood on end. All at once, Rachael, John, and the coyote heard the sound of approaching horse hooves. It grew louder and louder, delighting the treed pair.

  “Is it Chocolate and Butterscotch?” Rachael questioned, with new excitement in her voice. “Ohhhh, it is! Thank you.”

  “Yes!” was John’s jubilant response. “In the field I taught them to come for treats when I whistled. I almost forgot about it until now when we needed them. We’ll give them an extra treat tonight.”

  “We certainly will. They’re just in time. I thought we might have to spend the night up here.”

  “See?” He pointed to the retreating menace, the frightening coyote. “That danger is afraid of my pets!”

  “Yes, it is, and you are my Knight of CastleBlue!” she told her love, as she came gently from the tree into his waiting arms and gratefully kissed him. “I love the way you and your horses protect me.”

  “I love the way you show your gratitude,” he remarked, kissing her again, tenderly.

  “I love the way you know just when to kiss me,” she admitted.

  “I love the way you remembered treats for our horses, plus brownies for me,” he added.

  “I love the way we planned our wedding today. We can give them my apple slices I didn’t eat. By the way, they’re not my horses.” A buzz now caught her attention. “Look! There are hummingbirds in the columbine along the moor. One just flew over my head!”

  Together, they watched spellbound as the tiny birds soared, swooped, and swept into the flowers for nectar. This time and place would always be a very special memory for both of them, after sharing these unique experiences together and with nature.

  “Let’s come back here for seed for our wedding guests, and that honeymoon at Blackberry Inn you mentioned, sounds just perfect to me, John.”

  “We’ll, come back in late July or August when the seeds appear. For now, let’s go home.”

  “That will be when the seeds turn black or brown, but how did you know when?”

  “I have columbine at home at Magnolia Gardens, and my mother has saved seeds from them.”

  On the spur of the moment, on their way home, they decided to stop briefly at Apple Valley Ridge, since they saw that Cousin Emery was there. Amber Worthington greeted them warmly at the front door; then she held out her left hand to them.

  Rachael took it and squealed in delight. “You’re engaged! That’s lovely!”

  “Yes, just today,” was the new bride-to-be’s excited reply. “Emery is here now. Come in.”

  John stepped forward to shake his hand. “Congratulations, cousin. When is your wedding?”

  “Not for awhile. I’ve been gone so much on the Snagpuller North and at home planting and putting our sawmill together, that Amber and I have not had much time for wedding planning yet. I just bought the ring.”

  “It’s just lovely,” Rachael cooed, hugging Amber. “We have been wedding planning today, too.”

  “Oh, by the way, Miss Hathaway, Soon-To-Be Davis, like us, Well-Driller,” Emery began, then panted for breath. Before he could continue, the group began to laugh heartily. “What I wanted to say was that the snagpuller captain put me in charge of your well drilling supplies. We launch on Wednesday to deliver the goods. The three drillers will be accompanying us on board. They’ll meet the man in charge there. They should begin drilling soon thereafter. Everyone on the crew is extremely excited by the news. You should put it in the newspaper, too, Rachael.”

  She and Amber did a small leap for joy in each other’s arms, sharing a double bliss.

  “Oh, John, Monty went with me today when I bought Amber’s ring. He bought one, too,” his cousin now confided, which set off another wave of joyous celebration amongst the two women.

  “Why, you are just full of news, cousin,” John laughed, happily slapping him gently on the back.

  Rachael and Amber danced with joy. “This is a triple bliss,” Rachael remarked. “I can’t wait to learn when Phoebe accepts it. What a day this has been.”

  “Well, I hope she will,” Amber announced. “She’d better accept him. He’s handsome enough.”

  “He’s well mannered enough,” added Rachael, with a wink.

  “He has his own home,” Amber reminded everyone.

  “He has a profession,” Rachael noted, glancing at the Davis cousins.

  “You two sound like he is Mr. Perfect,” John retorted, with a laugh. “Put that in the paper.”

  “He is perfect for her!” Amber informed him, as the women happily gave their approval of Monty, as Phoebe’s groom. Next, their hostess turned to Rachael; holding her at arms length. “When is she returning to Magnolia Gardens or Fernhaven so she can accept his ring, and we can see it?”

  “I’m not sure.” Rachael pondered her question. “I’ll have to write to her and ask.”

  “Write her soon, please, for she was thinking of having her wedding at Apple Valley Ridge, remember?” Amber reminded Rachael.

  “Yes, I’ll write soon. I need to ask if she will be wearing a wedding gown or a bridesmaid dress at our wedding.”

  “Let’s let Monty present the ring to her, first, shall we?” John suggested. “He will know exactly when to give it to her and then they can plan their wedding.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt this speculation on Monty and Phoebe’s romance, but we also have homes, professions, and are very well mannered, aren’t we, John?” Emery teased, gesturing them further into the room.

  “You’d have to ask Rachael about that,” John said, grimacing.

  “Come on, stay for dinner, please. Celebrate with us. I cooked a chicken,” their hostess invited.

  “You remind me of Aggie,” Rachael su
ddenly remarked, shaking her head in honest disbelief.

  “I should. I’m Aggie and Pastor Albert’s sister!” was the Worthington reply, surprising Rachael.

  Later that evening, Amber and Emery hung on John’s every word, as he recounted how the coyote had treed them, and his horses had saved them, after his whistle. Finally, John ended the evening by singing, accompanied by his cousin on the guitar:

  Horses

  There’s a horse for me and one for you.

  Only this special pair will do.

  They’re dutiful and precious steeds,

  Whose gentle ways fulfill our needs.

  They want so little from us now,

  Making me wish to show them how,

  I can take care of them for life,

  And keep them safe from strain and strife.

  Horses are a fine example,

  Giving more than one quick sample,

  Of confirmed compassion and love.

  That’s what our horses are made of.

  Because of my horses I see,

  Things in my world quite differently:

  I’ve learned shelter and nurturing can,

  Make life the best ~ for horse or man.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  “Some say there were no horses in the New World when Christopher Columbus discovered it,” John told Cousin Emery, as the four of them took an evening stroll at Apple Valley Ridge near Owls Tor.

  “I’ve heard that, as well,” his cousin agreed. “I believe the Spaniards may have brought them.”

  “I was told Columbus brought some on his second trip,” John remarked. “Too bad we weren’t there.”

  “Right down there is where Butterscotch and Chocolate saved us from the coyote, today,” Rachael explained to Amber, pointing to a gray rock and grove of trees where they had picnicked below in the canyon.