A Memory Worth Dying For

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A Memory Worth Dying For Page 17

by Bruce, Joanie


  Chris turned to her shyly. “I’m helping Unc’l Dan’l go.” He illustrated the words by placing the oar into the water then turned to her. “Wanna help?”

  “Sure, Chris.” Marti moved up to sit beside Chris and put one hand on the oar.

  Chris moved over and smiled up at her as they pushed the oar in the water together.

  Daniel grinned at their awkward partnership. “It’s nice to have some help, isn’t it, buddy?”

  Chris nodded and concentrated on pushing the oar away from the boat.

  Daniel looked at Marti with a strange expression on his face. “I have something to show you,” he said as he steered toward the other side of the lake. He pointed toward a protruding piece of land across the water in the center of an alcove. “Over there.”

  Marti tried to recall exploring that area, but she couldn’t remember ever being on the other side of the huge lake. “What is it?”

  He grinned and put his finger on his lips. “Wait and see.”

  Marti forced a mock frown and then offered him a smile. “Hashtag: secret, huh?”

  Daniel smiled and nodded. “Yep.”

  When they reached the shore on the other side, Daniel slowed the boat by dragging his oar in the water. “Okay, guys. Pull your oar out of the water and be very quiet.”

  “Why, Unc’l Dan’l?”

  “We don’t want to scare the mama.”

  “What mama?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Chris looked up at Marti. “I don’t have a mama.”

  Marti’s heart bled. She leaned over and hugged Chris. “I’m sorry, Chris. I didn’t have a mama either when I was your age, but I had lots of friends. Don’t you?”

  “Yep. Unc’l Dan’l, Papa Shane, Ronica . . . and you.”

  Marti thought the love in his eyes would make her heart melt. She gave him the biggest smile she could muster and a kiss on the cheek.

  “Now,” said Daniel as he pulled a flashlight from the storage box, “be very quiet.”

  Chris pushed his lips together and turned to Marti. He put his finger on his lips. “Shhhh.”

  Marti did the same and smiled at Chris. He was such a precious child. That same longing for a child grew inside her until she had to tamp it down before tears followed. Not now, please.

  Daniel stepped out of the boat and held out his hand to help Chris. Marti waited until he turned to her. Then she put her hand in his and smiled up at him. The tingling in her hand came back, and she hurriedly stepped onto land.

  Daniel pulled the canoe up onto the shore and waved at them to follow. They rounded the point of land jutting into the water and walked about a hundred feet away from shore. Daniel squatted in the shade of a large oak tree and whispered, “Be really quiet for just a minute, then you’ll see what I brought you to see. Now, Chris, we have to be absolutely still when the mama comes back, or she might leave. Okay?”

  Chris nodded excitedly and squatted with Marti beside Daniel and waited. Chris’s excitement bubbled out, and he squirmed and kept grinning up at Marti. After a few minutes, a large brown bird flew around the area and perched overhead on a large tree limb. Chris stopped his squirming and froze.

  “That’s an owl,” Daniel whispered to Chris.

  They watched as the mama bird sat on the limb, looking around the area before she flew over to a hole that looked like a tunnel in the ground and went inside. They heard loud twittering noises.

  Chris’s eyes widened, and his mouth formed an “O.” He put his little hand over his mouth and grinned. Daniel smiled back and put his finger on his lips again to indicate silence.

  The bird stuck its head out of the hole, looked around the area, and flew away.

  Daniel grabbed the little boy’s hand. “Come on! Hurry! She’ll be back in a minute.” He led Chris over to the gap in the ground as Marti followed. Daniel leaned way over to look through the opening. “Look in here and see what you see.” He held the flashlight so the beam went directly into the hole.

  Chris leaned to peer in and then drew in a quick breath. “Babies! Baby birds.”

  Marti was amazed. “What kind are they? How did you find them? How old are they?”

  Daniel laughed. “You sound like Chris—full of a million questions.”

  Chris looked confused. “I’m not full of questions.”

  Marti and Daniel laughed, and Daniel told them, “They’re called burrowing owls, and the babies are about three weeks old. I saw them one day while I was over here cutting down a tree the beavers had sawed half through.”

  “Can I hold them, Unc’l Dan’l?”

  “No, Chris. As a matter of fact, we need to leave now so the mother bird can come back to feed them again.”

  They slipped back over to the tree and squatted to watch. In a few minutes, another brown bird came swooping into the area.

  Daniel leaned over to Chris and pointed toward the bird. “I think that’s the daddy bird, Chris. See how much bigger he is than the mama? They take turns feeding their babies until they’re old enough to feed themselves.”

  Marti was awed. “I thought owls always built their nests in trees,” she whispered.

  “Not all of them. Many species of owls build in tall grass, burrows abandoned by other animals—sometimes we’ve even had them build in the holes of the barn or hay sheds around the place.”

  “That’s interesting,” Marti said.

  “Most other owls are active at night, but some burrowing owls are out during the day—like today. I guess they catch their prey better in the day time. They eat large insects and small rodents.”

  “What’s a rodun, Unc’l Dan’l?”

  “A small animal, like a mouse.”

  Chris scrunched up his nose. “Eeeuuuww.”

  Daniel grinned and whispered to Marti, “Hashtag: disgusted.”

  Marti nodded and hid a smile.

  Once the daddy bird left the area, Daniel stood up. “Come on. We need to leave them alone now.”

  They walked toward the boat until Chris spotted a large bullfrog hopping across a grouping of round lake rocks.

  “Look! A frog.” He climbed up on the low rocks until the frog jumped back down on the sand beside the water. Chris giggled and hopped down after him.

  Daniel laughed and turned to Marti. “Shall we follow and make sure he doesn’t get into trouble?”

  When she nodded, he took her hand. “The rocks are a little rough here.”

  He led her across the jumbled group of rocks and helped her down the last one. When she stepped down onto the ground, the sand was soft and her foot twisted. Daniel’s hand reached out to help her even as she found her balance. Their faces were inches apart. His eyes found hers, and she stared into them—mesmerized. Her breath was shallow, and Daniel seemed to have frozen in time. His head tilted to the side, and he whispered, “Marti,” as he reached up and caressed her cheek. He leaned toward her and touched her lips with his. The kiss was short, yet explosions of magnitude went off in her head. It was even better than she remembered. Even as her heart tried to find its rhythm again, she felt a stabbing pain for the wasted years they’d lost.

  Unexpectedly, Daniel pulled away and stepped back. Without his arm holding her up, her knees gave way, and she sat down on the rock behind her.

  “I’m sorry, Marti.” He turned away from her and looked into the clouds. “That wasn’t right. This never happened.” He turned toward Chris and yelled, “Chris, let’s go!”

  When he turned toward the boat, Marti felt a heavy weight pressing on her chest. Daniel could pretend it never happened because he had no memories that once it was so much more, while she remembered in detail the love, passion, and companionship she’d lost. This was breaking her heart, and Daniel was determined to ignore any feelings he might feel toward her. She had to leave—and soon—or there would be nothing of her left.

  FORTY

  A FEW DAYS LATER, PRINCESS jumped into the bed with Marti and began kneading the blanket beside her. Marti j
olted awake and sat up in bed, absentmindedly reaching over to stroke the cat’s soft fur.

  The pounding in her temples reminded Marti why four hours of sleep a night was not enough. Rubbing her head, she got out of bed and walked into the studio. The morning light angled across the room and touched the edge of two portraits sitting on the easel. Daniel’s portrait was almost done—just a few last minute highlights. The other project, a surprise for Gerald, still required work but was close to being completed also.

  After the intruder broke into her room, sleeping every night was almost impossible. As soon as the sun went down, the darkness made its way into her bones, and closing her eyes was terrifying. So she painted into the wee hours of the morning until the first light touched the edges of the mountains and bathed the lake with fog. Then, while the rest of the ranch awakened and started on chores, she crashed in bed until the bright light of the sun sneaking around the edges of the curtains woke her.

  Marti stood back and stared at the picture, making a mental note of the changes she needed to make on the skin of the face. Gerald had been kind to her, and she wanted to give something back when she left . . . hopefully soon. Daniel showed no signs allowing himself to accept any kind of bond between them; instead, he seemed more determined than ever to go through with this wedding to Veronica. Gerald’s plan hadn’t worked. It was best that she leave and try to salvage the rest of her future—without Daniel. She had to accept the fact. Daniel wasn’t meant for her. She would finish Daniel’s painting to keep her promise to Gerald, and then she’d wipe the dust of Carson, Texas, from her feet and never look back.

  She moved Princess to the foot of the bed and pulled the comforter back over the pillows. She dressed in five minutes flat before she returned to the studio.

  Her hands flew as she worked fast and furious—trying hard not to think about Daniel. She hadn’t seen him since the canoe trip, but his kiss was on her mind constantly.

  The last two mornings, Veronica drove up in her sporty BMW convertible and took him off to who knows where. Yesterday, they went to a rodeo in the next county and returned late in the evening. She thought she heard Anita say they were going shopping for the wedding today. The word wedding spread a chill through her bones. What was worse than hearing the word was knowing she could do nothing about it.

  She stepped back to critique her work and picked up her filbert brush. After blending the shadows on one side of the face, she put down the larger brush and picked up a detail brush. She blended in a tiny stroke of white highlight on the tip of the nose in the painting, and then she stood back. That one little spot of white paint made the nose pop off the page and looked totally three dimensional. Wow! It still amazed her that a tiny bit of paint on a flat surface could make something look so round and so real.

  She was rinsing out her brush when someone knocked on the door. “Marti? May I come in?”

  “Just a minute.” She quickly hid the one painting behind a blank canvas and propped Daniel’s painting on the easel.

  “Come in.”

  Gerald stuck his head around the door. “Can I take a peek?”

  Marti smiled. Gerald’s eyes sparkled like a child waiting expectantly for a trip to Disneyland.

  She waved him in. “Certainly. It’s almost done.”

  Gerald walked around the easel and stood in silence. His mouth dropped open. He glanced briefly at Marti before looking back at the painting.

  “Marti! I’m speechless. They told me you were good, but I had no idea how good. I’m shocked. This looks exactly like Daniel. I can even see his character and personality in the eyes. Oh, Marti. I love it.” His voice broke and she saw tears in his eyes. “I just wish . . .”

  Marti went to him then and gave him a hug. “One thing you reminded me when I came here, Dad, was to trust God. We have to believe that no matter what happens, God allows it in our lives. There’s a verse that my friend in Tennessee reminded me of—Romans chapter eight, verse twenty-eight. It says—”

  Gerald’s voice interrupted her. “‘All things work together for good to them that love God.’ Yes, Marti, I know that verse, and it’s true. We have to keep trusting—no matter what happens.”

  He gave her another hug. “And, I love hearing you call me Dad. I never appreciated that when you were here before, but it’s like music to my ears now. Thank you.”

  She smiled at him—a sad smile but one filled with emotion. “You’re a good man, Gerald. Hashtag: Dad.”

  “I’ve heard you use that word before. What does ‘hashtag’ mean?”

  She smiled. “Never mind.” If Gerald still owned a cassette player, a dot-matrix printer, and a VCR, he’d never understand about Twitter.

  “Gerald, I’m almost done with the painting, and I . . .”

  A panicked look filled Gerald’s eyes, and they shifted all around the room. “Hey, I came in to ask you two things,” he said as a deliberate interruption.

  “What?”

  “First of all, I usually go to church on Sundays, and I wondered if you’d like to come with me tomorrow. I’m the only one who goes, and I thought it’d be nice if I had some company for a change.”

  Marti smiled. “I miss going to church. That’s tempting. Is Pastor Sammons still there?”

  “Yep, and he still preaches a mean sermon.”

  Marti laughed. “I’d love to go see him again. I’ll think about going. Thanks for inviting me. And the second thing?”

  Gerald sat down on a wooden stool she used for Daniel’s photography session. “Right before Daniel signed up for the Special Forces, I sent an investigator to find you . . . to see if you were okay.”

  “You did?” Marti was stunned.

  Gerald nodded. “Even before I accepted God into my life, Marti, my attitude toward you changed. I realized what a sweet daughter-in-law you’d been. I didn’t want to admit it at the time, but . . . I missed you.”

  Tears filled Marti’s eyes, but she blinked them away quickly.

  Gerald cleared his throat and spoke with a scratchy voice. “Brady never caught up with you for a long time, but he found a ranch where you’d been a few weeks before. He said you’d been working at a dude ranch in Oklahoma—breaking wild horses.” Gerald hid a smile by rubbing his mouth.

  Marti straightened up, embarrassed. “It wasn’t like you think.”

  “Hmm, that’s what I heard eventually, but I had to admit, his first report was unbelievable.”

  “I imagine so.”

  They both laughed.

  “After his report from Oklahoma, Brady said he lost you, and he didn’t find you again until last year.”

  “Yeah, the man chasing me was always one step behind me. I had to keep moving.”

  Gerald nodded. “Brady told me you had an unusual way of breaking horses at this ranch in Oklahoma and that the owners hated to see you leave.”

  Marti nodded excitedly. “Yeah. An Indian passing through the area worked on a neighboring ranch for a couple of weeks. Mostly what I did was muck out stalls, but at night, I’d go to the next farm and watch him break horses the Indian way. Before long I combined the technique with some ideas I had and was training horses myself. I use a much gentler approach than the old-fashioned way. It teaches the horse to trust humans and not be afraid, no matter what we do to them.”

  “That’s what Brady said. Do you think you could teach us how?”

  Marti shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

  “Why? Because you don’t want to stay around with Daniel, or because you don’t want to teach us your secret?”

  She felt about an inch high. “Maybe a little of both.”

  “Marti, you remember how Daniel despised jumping on a green horse and riding him until either the horse’s spirit broke or Daniel’s did?”

  Marti smiled. “I remember. He hated it. He said it didn’t agree with his backside, and sometimes it broke the horse’s spirit.”

  Gerald laughed. “Yep. That’s what he said, all right.” He paused. “Well
, he’s improved his technique in different ways since you were here, but it only works with horses that are already used to being handled. We have a bunch of horses that need breaking, and they’re pretty wild.”

  An incredulous stare widened her eyes. “Daniel’s colts were never wild.”

  Gerald shrugged. “He bought these colts from a man in Arizona. The bloodlines were excellent, but the owner was too old to deal with them, so he left the colts in the pasture with the mares. You know what that means. Some of these three-year-olds had never been handled until we brought them here”

  “That’s awful. Daniel was a firm believer of handling them from birth so they were easier to train.”

  “Yep. And I’m afraid these colts are going to be hard to break. That’s why I thought your technique might be easier on both the man and the beast.”

  Marti smiled. She could see how much this meant to Gerald, so she pushed herself to give it a try.

  “Won’t Daniel be upset when he finds out?”

  “He’s not here today. Veronica toted him off somewhere . . . again.” Gerald frowned, and under his breath he grumbled, “That’s happening a lot lately.”

  Marti didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

  “Well, what do you think, Marti? Wanna give it a try?”

  Marti heaved a loud sigh, trying to put thoughts out of her head and concentrate. “I’ll try to help, but it’s been a while since I’ve even been around horses, especially wild ones. And, I’m afraid I might mess things up. Daniel will be mad when he finds out.”

  “Let me worry about Daniel, okay? Come on. I asked Max to help us. We can work in the new arena—less distractions there.”

  Gerald had a spring in his step, and Marti was glad she agreed to help. As they walked, he turned to her and asked, “Now, tell me about this technique.”

  “Well, I’m sure you know that horses are herd animals. They have a strong instinct to be with other horses. In the herd, the leader is usually the one who is most dominant—the one who watches out for the others. In order for us to break a horse, we have to show him we’re the boss.”

 

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