Chapter 12
Shannon fished a raisin from her cereal and watched her brother pour sugar into the cracks of the tiled countertop. The five-year-old was always getting into trouble. Their mom, sipping a cup of coffee while reading her morning paper, glanced at her son. “Brian, what are you doing?” she asked, taking the sugar bowl away from him.
“Doing art,” he said, smiling up at her.
“Please don’t let your brother play with his food. Honestly, Shannon, you know better than to just sit there and let him waste sugar.” She grimaced while wiping Brian’s sticky fingers and went in search of a sponge.
“Why are you angry with me?” asked Shannon. “He made the mess, I didn’t.”
“Did you clean your room like I asked you?” replied Shannon’s mom. “No,” mumbled Shannon, pushing in her chair and carrying her bowl to the kitchen sink.
“No playtime until it’s clean,” her mom warned.
Brian stuck his tongue out at his big sister and skipped off with his favorite playmate Kelsie, the big chocolate lab that was always by his side. Shannon got even by throwing a stuffed animal at him before slipping into her room. She eyed her dresser piled high with clean clothes that she had tossed after trying them on. Game pieces were scattered on the floor from Brianna’s visit a few days ago. An empty bag of chips, missing the wastebasket by only a few inches, lay crinkled under a chair. The beads that she was using to make a bracelet dotted her nightstand and a jump rope dangled from a drawer. Her room looked pretty good and she shook her head, wondering what the fuss was all about. She decided to clean off the top of the dresser first. Picture frames slowly appeared as she began folding clothes and stuffing them into drawers. There was a picture from last Christmas of Brian and Kelsie wearing Santa hats and another of her parents wearing bright orange life vests as they paddled a canoe. And there was that special photo of her and Carrie hanging upside down from a tree limb with their hair blowing in the wind. It reminded her of all the fun she was missing with her best friend.
She flopped down onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. Summer had just begun and she was supposed to be excited about the glorious break from school, but she just felt empty. Carrie had called the other night while she was in the middle of hurrying out the door with Brianna. The conversation had ended quickly and although she meant to call her back the next day, she forgot. Yesterday she had tried a few times but couldn’t reach her. She missed her best friend and she wanted to hang out with her…even if it was only on the phone, but Carrie wasn’t answering.
Just then Brian came into the room. “Whatcha doin’?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Can I come in your room and do nothing with you?” he asked.
“Well…” she said, “only if you play a game with me.”
“Oh, boy, what are we gonna play?”
“It’s called, ‘Who can pick up the toys and put them away the fastest!’”
Later that evening as Shannon was helping her mom in the kitchen she noticed a postcard sitting in a pile of mail. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the colorful card. It was a photo of an old red barn surrounded by a field of golden corn.
“Oh, that came today. It’s from Carrie’s mom.”
“What does it say and where in the world is it from?” Shannon asked, trying to read the tiny cursive scribbling on the back.
“It’s a postcard from Nebraska—isn’t it wonderful? They’re getting to explore a part of the country they’ve never seen before. It’s quite a journey.”
“Has Mrs. Anderson called you yet, Mom? I can’t seem to get Carrie on the phone.”
“No, I don’t think she’ll call; she’s too busy driving. That’s why she sent us the card. See? It’s addressed to all of us and it’s from Carrie, too.
Shannon sighed and slumped into a chair.
“Don’t worry, honey, I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon.”
Shannon turned the card over, smudging it with fingerprints as she ran her hand over the glossy paper. It didn’t feel like it was from Carrie. She remembered the birthday cards signed, “Love, Grandmom and Pop-Pop,” recognizing her grandmother’s handwriting instantly. Did Pop-Pop ever see the card that was supposed to be from him, she wondered?
“Hey, Shannon,” called her dad from the living room. “Come see this.”
She put the postcard down and went to join him on the couch. “It’s a nature show about Nevada. Want to watch it with me?”
“Sure,” she said, thinking of the package of brochures that Carrie hated.
“Horses!” squealed Brian.
Chapter 13
Max’s usual spot by the window was bare. So was his favorite lookout perch on the staircase. His food bowl was untouched and Sam’s call, which always brought him to her side, went unheeded. Today was an important day and Sam was not in the mood to go chasing after a suspiciously absent feline. He can’t possibly know that today is the day that Brenda, Carrie, and their dog are moving into the bungalow out back. Or could he? thought Sam, as she peered out the window for the tenth time. A beautiful blue jay fluttered from its perch and pecked at the unattended bowl of cat food. Where could he be? Sam thought. Max would never allow a bird to eat his breakfast.
The Andersons would be arriving soon and she had wanted to have their dog, Flannel, waiting for them. Devon Spencer, the kind man who was caring for the collie, had phoned to say he was running late. Let’s hope Carrie doesn’t go nuts if her dog isn’t here when she arrives. Going with the flow was a lesson most people didn’t learn until their hearts had been disappointed a few times. This kid was already experiencing a huge dose of reality as she had been uprooted from her home. Not by her choice, thought Sam—and only because her parents had selected this as their only course of action. This was not going with the flow—this was more like swimming against a raging river that flooded everything in its path. Her thoughts were disrupted as Kelly walked into the room, nodded to Sam before sliding onto the bench of the old black piano that looked out toward the Calico Mountains.
Kelly Westfield began working at the B&B over thirty years ago, when Sam’s parents ran the place. She was a wise woman who only spoke when she had something worth saying. Playing piano to entertain guests was only part of her skills; offering sound advice that proved trustworthy was the real reason the tip jar overflowed. She knew practically everyone in Saddlecrest and the locals would gather around the B&B to hear her sing. Sam took pride in offering this wonderful talent, as the tourists got to mingle with the heart of the land—its people. Sure, she could send them to the local attractions and restaurants but they would learn more about the area by rubbing elbows with the people who really made this place what it was—the locals who lived here when the vacations came to end, the winds blew, the snow fell hard, and the telephone lines went dead. Yes, Kelly was a rare treasure, and Sam was glad the B&B was her home.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” Sam said as Kelly poured herself a cup of coffee.
Kelly raised her eyebrows, which was the most she ever said this early in the day.
“I have been finding squares of calico fabric,” Sam said. “They’re everywhere—on my desk, in the mailbox, in my car, and even in the pockets of my clothes. At first I thought it was Max bringing them in…but now I’m not sure what to think.”
Kelly took a long sip of coffee and gazed out the window. And then she looked at Sam with a grin.
“What?” asked Sam. “Do you know something about this? Why are you grinning? Did you leave them, Kelly?”
“Nope, not me,” she said, putting down her coffee mug, the mug with the hand-painted coyote on the side that her granddaughter had made.
“Well, you obviously know something about it,” said Sam. “I have a pretty large collection of them in my desk and I am beginning to think someone is playing a joke on me.”
Kelly walked over to her jacket and pulled out a small square of yellow, pink, and blue flo
wered fabric. “Like this?” she asked.
“You, too?” asked Sam. “Where did you find it?”
Kelly held the fabric up to the light and squinted. “This one I found hanging on a saddle in my barn. The others I found in my house and a few were in a book or two,” she said as she put the fabric back into her pocket.
“But…where are they coming from? Who’s doing this? Now I am totally confused,” Sam said, as she pulled open the desk drawer, showing Kelly the pile of colored swatches that were scattered within. Kelly took another sip of coffee and looked out the window. She shrugged her shoulders and just stood there with a curious grin.
“You know something,” Sam said. “I know that look.”
Kelly slowly shook her head. “I only know that they started showing up last summer. I didn’t say anything because I figured in time I would understand their reason. I hadn’t realized that they were coming to you as well.”
Sam looked at her friend. “Umm…what do you mean by ‘their reason’ and ‘coming to me’? You say it like they have a mind of their own.”
Kelly put down her coffee and turned her thoughts to the folder of music sheets that were in the satchel she always had beside her. She was humming and seemed miles away in thought. Sam stared at her in disbelief. Pieces of colored fabric were appearing everywhere and Kelly seemed to think it was perfectly normal. Well, thought Sam, she is getting old. Maybe she’s having a senior moment. I can’t wait until Brenda gets here—she’s going to have a field day with this one.
Chapter 14
Carrie gazed out the window at the dull desert landscape that seemed to go on forever. Suddenly, a brown speckled bird with its tail held high darted across the road and Brenda squealed in excitement. “A roadrunner, Carrie! A roadrunner…that was a roadrunner. Did you see it?” she asked, breathlessly.
“Umm, yeah,” she said, “I think it was a roadrunner, Mom.”
“Don’t be a wise-aleck, Carrie. It’s my first sighting of one and I’m so psyched!” Carrie looked ahead, noticing the distant mountains now looming larger, the same mountains that seemed to be taking them eons to reach. The temperature was soaring and the air conditioning was on full blast. She reached for her bottle of water and glanced at the clock. They should be there in a few hours and she would be happy to get out of this prison of a car. Her mom was all hyper and chatty but Carrie wasn’t paying her any attention. Her mom thought they both shared this excitement of finally getting to their new home. Carrie was actually trying to forget about it. In fact, she was thinking about the dream she’d had last night, and she pulled her journal from her backpack and read over her entry.
Sunday June 29th:
I had another dream of rolling hills of fabric. It all began with those same lights flickering on sparkling water. Then I was looking down at the patterned lands that were made of patches of varying colors. I felt as if I were flying as I soared overhead. The hills had valleys and I dipped down into them as I looked all around me at the many colors of blue, pink, green, lavender, and gold. Then a black, misty fog covered the hills and all went dark. The darkness slowly became un-foggy as if the sun was beginning to rise. Black hills appeared and three horses were standing on the ridge. They were pawing the ground and I heard them snorting as they swished their tails. They were real horses but they were covered in patches of fabric. As I looked closely I could see that they were each made of the same swatches I had seen on the hills. Three beautiful horses covered in calico fabric. And then I woke.
Carrie hadn’t told her mom about this dream. Her mom called these recurring dreams, but actually each of her dreams was a bit different from the last. The most recent one was the most amazing. The horses seemed as if they were looking at her, waiting for something…but what? She had only been around horses once—at a friend’s house—and even then she had only petted them through a fence. Her dad had said that perhaps one day he would take Carrie over to ride the horses, but he never did. Parents were always saying stuff like that, she thought. Some day we’ll do this and some day we’ll do that…but those somedays never came. When she got older and she had kids, well, she would follow through on all of her promises and do everything she said. Yep, thought Carrie, someday when I’m in charge I’m gonna let my kids know that dreams really do come true. She gazed out the window and pressed her nose on the chilled glass. I wonder why I’m having these patchwork dreams? It was so cool to feel like she was flying…and the horses, well…they felt like old friends. Silly dreams, she thought to herself. I hope when I get to this new place these dreams will all fade and I can go to sleep without crying. Nights were the hardest, but soon she would have Flannel beside her and all would be well. Yep, all she needed was to hug her collie and life would start to feel a little more like home. Home, she thought, as she rolled her eyes beneath her sunglasses…wherever that was.
Brenda stopped talking when she realized the girl was not even listening. She glanced at her sulking daughter as they rode on in silence. Carrie hadn’t even noticed that her mom was no longer speaking and when Brenda pulled the car to the side of the road and turned off the engine, Carrie jumped up, knocking her water bottle onto the floor.
“Are we outta gas? Wh-why’d ya stop, Mom?”
Brenda ignored her, got out of the car, and walked a few feet away, just gazing off into the distance. She stood there, hands on hips, overwhelmed by the beauty before her. The sky was a shade of blue that she had never seen. The mountains had rolling peaks of multi-colored rock. They seemed as if they were made of many shades of pinks, blues, golds, greens, and lavender. Carrie came over and lifted her eyes to the beauty before her. Neither spoke a word as they watched two hawks circling overhead. An odd kind of rabbit suddenly appeared and dashed away as the hawk flew closer. Rabbits from back east were smaller with gray fur and shorter ears; this larger rabbit was dusty brown with long slender ears. Mother and daughter looked at each other in amazement.
“I think that was a jackrabbit!” Brenda said. “And those gorgeous birds are a type of hawk we would never see back in Jersey.”
Carrie pointed off in the distance. “Look at those strange mountains, Mom. I never knew they could have so many colors.”
Brenda smiled. “That’s where we’re headed. That’s where Sam is. We’ll be living in a town where you can look at those mountains every day.”
Wow, thought Carrie, wondering if she would get a chance to get a closer view. They truly were a spectacular sight and looked nothing like she had imagined them. She remembered Shannon saying something about colored mountains when she was looking through the Nevada brochures, but Carrie had ignored all of those dreadful pictures. She wished her dad were here to witness this. He loved hiking and camping and this landscape would really catch his eye. Carrie took out her camera and started to take a few photos.
The air smelled of blossoms and Brenda looked around to see what might be in bloom. The ground was covered in a light green scrubby mass with tiny buds. When she looked closely she could see a darker green plant with new shoots. Although it was only June it felt very much like August. Off into the distance she spotted some animals with their heads down. She squinted to try to see what they were doing. Cows? No, I don’t think cows come in black. She laughed at herself comparing the grazing animals to a pair of shoes.
She walked over to her daughter and pointed to the animals. “Can you zoom in and see what those black and brown dots are?” Carrie adjusted the camera and shook her head. “It isn’t able to zoom in that far, Mom, but I think they look like cows or horses.”
“That’s what I thought but I’m not sure if there are any black cows out here in the desert.”
“Do cows come in black, Mom?” asked Carrie, as she held her hand up to block the sun. Brenda started to laugh at how ignorant of cows they both were. “We really are learning new things together. I only know the brown Jersey ones.”
“Look, there are a few more dots of animals over there and they have gold ones, too. They
must be wild horses,” said Carrie.
“Oh, wow,” Brenda said. “Look at them out there grazing. They don’t look any different than the horses we see on farms back home.”
“Yeah, except they aren’t behind fences,” Carrie added, wondering if they ever came into people’s yards.
Sipping water, mother and daughter stood side by side studying the scene that continued to draw them in. Carrie turned to her mother and leaned in for a hug—a hug she hadn’t been able to give since they hit the Garden State Parkway. Brenda pulled her in close and felt the silent tears that fell from her daughter’s eyes.
“You’re not alone, Carrie. I’m always here,” she said softly. “All I’m asking is that you give it a try.”
Try what, Carrie thought, as she sniffled and tried to stop the flood of tears. Try to forget Daddy and Shannon and all that she loved back in New Jersey? Never. I won’t promise anything, she said to herself. I never thought I would want to run away, but now…she looked off into the distance at the horses running free across the land. Freedom, she thought. Freedom from grownups and their stupid rules. Now that was something she would try to forget.
“I’ll try,” she said, looking up at her mother, wiping her nose on her sleeve. They hugged again and headed to the car. “We should be there pretty soon,” Brenda said, turning the key.
They drove on in silence toward the colorful mountains. Carrie gazed out at the galloping horses. Anxiety grew as they approached the town of Saddlecrest. Her stomach began doing flip-flops. How odd, she thought—endless days in a car with my mom and not once did I ask…are we there yet?
Chapter 15
Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail Page 5