Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail

by Lorraine Turner

  “Kangaroo rat,” said Milla.

  “Yuck,” Carrie said.

  “Coyote’s lunch,” smiled Milla. Carrie quickly looked around checking to see if a pack of wild coyotes was nearby. “It’s safe, don’t worry,” Milla said, “but I think this is as far as we should go.”

  “Can’t we go see the mountains?”

  “They look close enough to get to them, Carrie, but they’re really far away.”

  “Oh,” Carrie muttered, hoping Milla didn’t think she sounded stupid. What a dumb question, she thought to herself.

  “I used to beg my grandma all the time and once my dad drove me out there in a jeep. It took forever and I think he did it to shut me up. I never asked him to take me again,” she laughed.

  The two girls stopped to sit down on a large rock. “Tomorrow is the 4th of July,” Milla said. “ I sorta don’t even like holidays anymore.”

  “How come?” asked Carrie, not sure how she herself felt about holidays.

  “My grandmom died last August and she and I did everything together. It just doesn’t feel the same anymore. I used to love going to see the fireworks with her, but now I’m not sure I even want to go.”

  “Where do they set them off?” asked Carrie. “I used to always go to the boardwalk but now, well…”

  “We always drove to Reno. Grandma, Dad, and I always took fun snacks and we had this special spot where we would park and sit and watch the fireworks all by ourselves. No crowds—just the three of us.”

  Carrie kicked her foot against the rock and looked back at the B&B. She wasn’t in the mood to celebrate any holidays without her dad or her grandparents, or Shannon. It was hard to imagine any event without them. She looked up at Milla, who was fiddling with her water bottle. “So will you just skip it, then?” asked Carrie.

  Milla shrugged and looked away. “All the holidays are the same now. My dad tries to make me happy and I try to make him smile and by the end of the night we barely speak to each other. I wish we could just skip over them and pretend they weren’t even on the calendar.”

  Carrie thought that sounded odd. How could anyone pretend a holiday wasn’t on the calendar? “What do you mean, like just erase the day?” she asked.

  “We may as well. We do a pretty bad job of pretending they’re fun,” replied Milla.

  “Maybe you could just make it different,” Carrie said. “Maybe instead of the usual fireworks, you and your dad could do something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know, maybe have an un-fireworks day. Maybe you just hang out and turn off all the lights and have candles and tell stories. Who knows? But maybe you can just make it something for you and your dad instead of what you always did with your grandma.”

  “I doubt if my dad would go for blackouts and candles, but I bet if I asked him to take me camping he would. Lots of people around here go camping on July 4th. Hey, let’s ask him to take us!” Milla said, jumping up.

  Carrie thought of her own father and how much she missed him. Phone calls were awkward and they always ended too soon. Maybe Milla should go alone with her dad and she should stay with her mom. “Don’t you just want to go hang out with your dad alone?” asked Carrie.

  “No, it would be way more fun if you came,” Milla replied. “I’m alone with my dad every day, just like you’re with your mom.” Carrie could see her point. She loved her mom and all, but it was nice having Milla around for a change—just to break up the silence.

  On their way back the two girls planned everything they would be doing on their Un-4th of July camping trip. They had it all worked out and were excited to start gathering camping supplies and games and all of the things kids needed when they slept in a tent under the stars. They each had scary ghost stories they wanted to share and Milla said she could teach Carrie about star constellations. It would be so wonderful and new and something neither of them had ever done before. They raced back to the B&B. Getting it all packed up and making the arrangements was the easy part. Getting Milla’s dad talked into it…well, that would take some magic.

  Chapter 39

  Calico Horses Round-up Gets Thumbs Up Amidst Outcry

  Saddlecrest, Nevada – Animal rights activists are lashing out at plans to remove 300 wild horses from the Calico range. The BLM has gained approval to offer the horses for adoption. Those too old or considered unadoptable will be sent to long-term holding facilities in the Midwest, where they can live for decades.

  Spokesman Frank Merrill in Washington, D.C., said the BLM has approval under federal law to remove horses to support the health of herds, lands, and wildlife. “There’s nothing new in their arguments. They oppose the horse gathers, period,” Merrill said of the activists. “If we did it their way the horse population would explode. That would destroy the range.”

  Kathy Parkins, director of Save Our Mustangs, disagrees. “The favoritism they show to cattle and sheep is shocking,” she said. “It’s time to give wild horses a fair share of our public rangelands.”

  Activists also claim the Calico horse round-ups involving helicopters have caused too many deaths in the past and should be stopped immediately.

  Devon tossed the newspaper into the trash and heaved a heavy sigh. He didn’t need to read a newspaper to learn of public opinion. He put his hat on and headed out to check on the horses. He enjoyed the time spent with the animals and worked hard to try and manage the many horses that came through the Painted Ridge gates. One of the workers had seen something unusual and had asked him to come take a look. He waved to Walt, who was standing near a young stallion.

  “Hey, Walt. Is this the horse?” asked Devon, walking slowly toward the trembling horse.

  “This is one of the horses that came in a few weeks ago,” Walt said. “I’ve already called the vet. Ben said there’s four more out back that are wheezing and they all have fever. He’s already separated them.”

  “Looks like the start of a respiratory illness,” Devon said, shaking his head. “We need to vaccinate the entire lot.”

  Walt shook his head. “Great way to celebrate the 4th, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah, the holiday. Well, it looks like we’re going to be busy taking care of sick horses. Let me know when the docs get here, will you? I’d better start making some calls.” He walked back to his office.

  Devon and his staff were no strangers to the unexpected ailments that sometimes passed through the herd. Large numbers of animals placed together in one area spread illness much like people did in crowds. It was a dangerous time for the horses and burros and everyone would have to work harder. The entire Painted Ridge Adoption Center needed to be vaccinated. It didn’t matter if they were sick or healthy. No horses could come in or go out and all adoptions were immediately on hold. Devon spent most of the morning making arrangements and speaking with other facilities to inform them of the situation.

  He was just hanging up when his co-worker, Brit, said, “Anne Burke called to let you know that the foal is in stable condition…and Line 3 is holding for you.”

  “Well, that’s good news. Please get a number, Brit, and I’ll have to call them back,” he said as he picked up the phone to make another call.

  “It’s Milla on the line,” Brit said. “Should I have her call you back?”

  “No, I’ll take it.” He picked up the phone. “Hi, Milla, I’m kinda busy. Can I call you back?”

  “Dad, Dad—Carrie and I have the greatest, most awesome idea,” she said breathlessly.

  “Milla, not now, I’m really busy here and I have to go.”

  “But, Dad, it’s about July 4th,” she said.

  “July 4th is cancelled for the Spencer family. I’ll call you later. I really have to go now. Please tell Mrs. Anderson I’ll let her know when I can pick you up. Sorry, Mil. Love you, bye.”

  A few hours passed and Devon reached for some aspirin. “Brit, I’m taking a break from the phones. Just make a list of who I need to call back,” he said. Brit picked up one of th
e many ringing lines and waved Devon out the door. He returned to the corrals. Sanitizing the entire facility was impossible. It was a painstaking task to try and control an area where a thousand horses lived. The immune systems differed greatly among the wild horses. Vaccines were not a guarantee and only time would tell how effective all of their precautions had been. Devon checked on the staff and spoke with several of the vets. Instructions were passed among his wranglers about the most severe cases and Devon walked back to his office to tackle the other jobs that needed his immediate attention.

  Brit looked up as Devon came through the door and held up a finger. She covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “It’s Milla—she’s called several times.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll speak to her,” he said, slightly annoyed. He sat down and tossed his hat toward a peg. It missed and he watched it fall into the trash.

  “Hi, Mil,” he said.

  “Hi, Dad. Is your situation over yet? We really need to talk.”

  “No, it’s not over. We have some sick animals here, Milla, and whenever you have one sick horse it means that you have to treat all the animals, even the ones that aren’t sick. Do you understand?” he asked grumpily.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Dad.”

  “Me, too. I have to stay here and work. I guess I’ll have to come and get you or maybe Mrs. Adams can watch you tonight.”

  “But, Dad!” Milla yelled into the phone.

  “No arguing, Milla. I am up to my ears with problems here. I need you to help me out and do as I ask.” There was a pause and Devon thought he heard her beginning to whimper. “Milla, are you still there? Milla, please answer me. I don’t have time for drama right now.”

  “I hear you,” she said quietly.

  “I’ll have to make arrangements to get you over to Mrs. Adams’ house. I’ll call back in an hour. I’m really sorry, but I have no choice.”

  Devon hung up the phone feeling drained. He quickly telephoned Mrs. Adams but no one was home. Like many other families they had probably gone off to do something fun and exciting for the holiday. Lately, holidays seemed to be something for other families. He thought of the years past with his mother and how she would make such a fuss over them. Now they were just memories and he really didn’t know how to celebrate with Milla. It was awkward and he always felt as if something were missing. He decided to call Mrs. Adams back later, hoping he was wrong and that she could take care of Milla. Devon usually didn’t work on Sundays, but this would be the beginning of a very long weekend.

  Walt came in the front door and grabbed a cold drink from the kitchen. “I think the vets must have vaccinated well over five hundred horses so far,” he said, slumping into a chair.

  “That’s great but we’re not out of the woods yet,” Devon said, looking out at the horses in a distant pen. “Oh, I just remembered, Walt—we need to cancel all volunteer workers this weekend. Can you give me the list of people to call?

  “No need,” Walt replied. “They already know all projects are canceled for the holiday.”

  “Great, that’s fewer calls to make.”

  Walt got up from his quick break and said, “I already told my wife to cancel our holiday plans.” I’ll bet there’ll be some unhappy family members, but it’s out of my hands, thought Devon, watching the wrangler disappear out the door.

  He called Mrs. Adams again and got the same corny message with cowboy music playing in the background. He then called Brenda Anderson and quickly filled her in with his dilemma and she happily agreed to keep Milla for the weekend. She mentioned something about an un-holiday but Devon was only half listening. He asked to speak with Milla, but she was out with Carrie. He hung up and decided to put all of the stress of finding childcare out of his mind. The facility’s horse care was more urgent and Milla was in good hands.

  The sun began to sink behind the Calico Mountains. Their beauty seemed to go unnoticed by the workers of the Painted Ridge Adoption Center. Some of them made arrangements to have meals brought in as they settled in to work through the night. When Devon eventually signaled them for a much-needed break, the crew sat down together to eat. The work had been grim and although they would rather have been home with their families, no one complained. They shared a potluck meal and some told stories of childhood memories and holiday traditions. Some remembered family get-togethers and neighborhood gatherings. Some spoke of family camping trips, while others said it was just another day. Several spoke of the fireworks they always went to see and how they had passed this along to their children. Devon remained silent. Other than staff meetings, the crew rarely sat down together. Listening to the men and women discuss their personal lives made him take a deeper look at his staff, as well as at his own life. He never spoke to anyone about the grief he carried and kept his personal matters to himself. Raising Milla alone was something he had never anticipated and he wondered how other single parents managed. He had so much work to do and with this new crisis—forget the holiday, sharing a weekend with his daughter was out of the question. She’ll get through this, he thought; let’s hope I can. He glanced at the newspaper someone had dug out of the trash to use as a tablecloth. Mustard and catsup had drizzled over the headline, covering most of the words. But as Devon read it he thought of the laughter and optimism in the room. He smiled as he saw the anger-filled article that was now being used as a table covering for the staff’s holiday meal. The chatter became quieter as someone asked, “Think we’ll dodge this bullet? The docs seem pretty certain we did everything we could.”

  “I think so,” Devon said, pointing to the newspaper covered with smeared food and spilled cola. They all smiled as they read part of the headline showing through: “Calico Horses Get Thumbs Up.”

  Chapter 40

  Brenda picked up the tiny swatch of calico fabric that she found dangling from one of the small horse figurines in her bedroom. That’s odd, she thought. Who put this here? She started to go ask Carrie when she heard the back door slam. She dropped the fabric on her nightstand and went to see what the fuss was about. She entered the kitchen and Carrie gave her a dismal look. Milla was outside sitting on a lounge chair with her head down.

  It had been a long day of climbing up and down ladders and painting ceilings. Brenda ached all over and was looking forward to a relaxing evening. The girls had repeatedly interrupted her throughout the day with updates on their weekend excursion. They had gotten overly excited and carried away about camping. Brenda reminded them that Devon had not agreed to anything, but they wouldn’t listen. Now their camping trip dreams were dashed and the girls were miserable. She felt badly that they’d gotten their hopes up, but after speaking with Devon she knew that he had no time for holidays.

  “I’m so sorry, Carrie, but…”

  “Please don’t say I told you so, Mom. We feel bad enough.” Carrie stared out the window at Milla.

  “Well, what can we do?” Brenda asked. “Would you like me to take you to Reno to watch the fireworks tonight?”

  “No, I don’t want to pretend to have fun looking at a bunch of fireworks. I miss the ones back home and I miss Dad. I called him but he’s not answering his phone.”

  “Sorry,” Brenda said. She wasn’t feeling very festive herself. In addition to being tired, these emotional ups and downs had become part of their daily routine and she wasn’t sure how to make them stop. Carrie went back outside to sit next to Milla. Flannel was lying under the table and looked up at Brenda. Even the dog looks depressed, she thought. All of this dreariness has to end. She sat down at the kitchen table, petting the collie that was stretching to make sure she got all the itchy parts.

  Brenda thought of the excitement the girls had shown when they told her all about their plans. They called it an Un-July 4th camping trip. She laughed, thinking how creative the two girls were. The night was early and she had two sulky girls to contend with. She couldn’t make up for the boardwalk and family for Carrie and she couldn’t replace Milla’s grandma or father but she could do something e
lse. She could give the girls exactly what they wanted.

  Brenda glanced at the clock and walked outside. “I have an announcement,” she said to the girls, despite their telltale faces of…we wish you would go away. “I have just looked at the clock and it’s now officially the beginning of Un-July 4th.”

  The girls sat up and blinked.

  “I myself have never experienced this holiday so I need you guys to tell me how it works. I think there is probably food involved, but I’m not really sure what kind.”

  “Mom, really, its okay. We’re fine,” said Carrie, rolling her eyes.

  “Yeah, thanks anyway,” Milla said grumpily.

  “I’ll go get the tent while you girls figure out where we should set it up.”

  “Here?” they both said at the same time, looking dumbstruck.

  “Yes, here.” Brenda replied. “I can’t think of a better place. What are you waiting for? Get moving—don’t you want to get ready?”

  The girls squealed in delight as they ran to fetch all of the items they had gathered for the Un holiday. Brenda laughed. She hadn’t expected the girls to move from sorrowful to psyched in a split second. Even Flannel was getting in the mood—she jumped up on Carrie, who held the collie’s paws and did a waltz through the kitchen. Flannel barked as she chased them up the stairs.

  “Tap tap” came a little knock on her back door. Uh-oh, thought Brenda. I’m gonna get warned about the noise. She opened the door to find Sam standing there with a grin. “I take it the pity party is over. Does that mean we’re heading to Reno for fireworks tonight?”