Book Read Free

Fawn

Page 4

by Verna Clay


  Leaving the fields of roaming cows he slowed his horse to a walk and turned onto the trail leading upward to the canyon entrance. He spied hoof prints from the feral herd and knew they had come in from the western pasture. Yep, they'd entered the canyon the previous night. His tracking skills showed that there were six horses; the same number he'd tracked before. A short distance from the canyon entrance, however, he discovered the prints of a seventh. Odd.

  He passed through the narrow entrance and continued to the spring below the Anasazi ruins. Definitely seven horses. Riding past the spring, he followed the canyon to its exit on a bluff overlooking a small valley on the opposite side. Across the valley was a huge meadow separating Wade's ranch from the Crooked J Ranch.

  He dismounted and counted the hoof prints of the horses that had exited the canyon—six horses. What the hell? How can there only be six? He checked again—six. Pushing his hat back, he scratched his head.

  Movement across the valley distracted him and he saw two riders. Reaching into his saddle bag he pulled out binoculars. Shit! What's Dugger MacKenzie doing on my property? However, it was dumb question because he already knew the answer. Mac was searching for the feral horses so he could herd them onto his own land. He'd been trying to capture them, especially the black stallion, for a couple of years. The lead mare, however, was smart and must have sensed the herd's safety was at risk because she stayed within certain boundaries—those boundaries being Wade's land. Now it appeared that Mac wanted the stallion so badly he was willing to break the law. Wade mounted Misty and urged her down the bluff trail, where he was obscured from the sight of his intruders by massive boulders.

  After he entered the open valley, however, it didn't take long for Mac and his man to spot him. They reined in their horses and Wade nudged Misty into a gallop until he was fifteen feet shy of Mac and his ranch hand. Mac tapped the brim of his hat. "Howdy, Wade."

  "What the hell are you doing on my property?"

  "We had some cows come up missing and thought they might have strayed onto your land. Ain't that right, Gabe?"

  "Yes, sir, that's right." The blond-haired, angel-faced young man removed his hat and twirled it on his fingers. Wade wanted to wipe the smirk off the smart-ass boy's perfect lips.

  Wade shook his head. "Well, Mac, that's about the biggest load of crap I've heard all day…no, make that all year. I'm warning you to get off my land and leave that stallion alone."

  "Haven't the faintest idea what your blathering about, Wade." He made a motion toward his cowhand, "Come on Gabe, we'll leave it up to Wade's honesty to return our cows when he comes across them."

  His remark angered Wade even more. "You're full of horseshit, now get off my property!" Turning his mare, he spurred her back in the direction of the canyon and then wondered if Mac knew about it. Rather than take the same bluff trail, he steered Misty toward another path. Stopping once, he looked back to see that Mac and the young man were nowhere in sight.

  CHAPTER 8:

  GABRIEL

  Gabriel listened to Mac's harangue as they trotted their horses back to the Crooked J Ranch. You'd think after a year he'd be used to listening to the old fart. Not so. Mac irritated the hell out of "Gabe," as the old coot insisted on calling him.

  Gabriel responded automatically to Mac, but his mind went elsewhere—to the Anasazi ruins hidden in the canyon. When Wade had refused to hire him, he'd hooked up with Mac, and the only reason he tolerated the blow-hard was so that he could be near the ruins…and the voices. If Wade had hired him the set-up would have been perfect, but alas, he had learned to make any situation turn in his favor. He'd ingratiated himself so much with Mac that the old cowboy had made him foreman of his ranch.

  Many nights, Gabriel would sit under the stars listening for the voices. Whenever he could sneak away, he'd ride to the ruins, tie his horse near the spring, and climb the narrow cliff path to the crumbling village. Going to the sipapu in the kiva he'd sit and wait for the voices. They were so much clearer when he was there.

  ***

  "It looks kinda crooked," said Zoe, sounding disheartened.

  Fawn pursed her lips. She wanted to toss the mess into the trash, but instead said, "All is not lost. We'll make the best of what we have."

  "What do we have?"

  "Ah…delicious chocolate…ah…scramble."

  Zoe tilted her head and studied the disaster, chewed her lip, and then busted out laughing. Fawn couldn't help but join her laughter. They both giggled so hard they had to grab their stomachs.

  "Oh…oh, I'm laughing so much my insides hurt," said Fawn.

  "Me, too." Zoe tried to catch her breath.

  The kitchen door opened and Wade burst in with a look of frustration. He pulled the walkie-talkie from his belt and tossed it on the counter. "Batteries went dead on the blasted thing." Fawn and Zoe watched him stride to the walkie-talkie in its charger beside the pantry door and heard a crackling sound when he lifted it from its mount. The crackling turned to fuzz and then Wade said, "Schmitt, pick up."

  A voice answered, "Yo, boss, what's up?"

  "I just caught Mac and that pretty-boy foreman of his in the south valley. Said they were looking for strays. Ha! They were looking for that band of feral horses. We're gonna have to keep an eye out and hope the horses don't get any closer to his property. That valley is less than a mile from his boundary."

  Schmitt replied with some colorful language that Wade interrupted. "Ah, Schmitt, I'm in the kitchen with Zoe and Fawn."

  The walkie-talkie went dead and then Schmitt said, "Golly, Wade, why didn't ya tell me you was in the kitchen. Sorry ladies."

  "We'll talk more about this tonight with the other hands."

  "Right, boss. Over-and-out."

  Wade replaced the unit and turned around. Fawn waited for his reaction to the chocolate disaster. He glanced from Fawn to Zoe.

  "It's only our first try, Daddy."

  "Yeah, our first try," Fawn echoed. She waved at the mess. "After this, there's no where to go but up."

  Wade busted out laughing.

  CHAPTER 9:

  SIPAPU

  Fawn opened the drawer of her night stand and retrieved a book. Tomorrow would mark her third day at Dream Catcher Ranch and, thus far, she'd met the ranch hands, become familiar with the house and grounds, attempted to bond with Zoe and Wade, and endured another of Zoe's shrieking episodes.

  Flipping the book open to her bookmark, she read:

  Indigo children possess special and unusual traits and abilities. The presence of Indigo children was first brought to light in the 1970s by Nancy Ann Tappe. In 1982, she published a book entitled: Understanding Your Life Through Color, and revealed that during the 1960s she began noticing children were being born with "indigo" auras. In the 1990s several films and books by other authors were released about this phenomenon.

  It is believed by some that these children are the next stage in human evolution, with many having the gift of empathy in relating to the human condition. It is also believed these children possess answers to questions that have eluded great philosophers and spiritual leaders throughout history.

  Because Indigo children often find themselves frustrated by a lack of understanding from family members, society, and the educational system, they may act out and display difficult and willful behaviors. Oftentimes, they are labeled with learning disabilities.

  Fawn closed the book and leaned her head against the headboard. Was Zoe really hearing voices or was she faking the voices for attention? Fawn wanted to question her but wasn't sure how to begin. Should she wait until there was another episode, or try to find out more before then?

  Slipping the book back into the drawer she glanced at the clock, 2:09 A.M. Quietly opening her bedroom door, she tiptoed through the hallway and the kitchen and then into the dark night. Clouds suppressed most of the light of the moon, causing an eerie grayness to paint the landscape. Standing in the shadow of the house, she bowed and prayed and then lifted skyward as a
nighthawk. Flying in the direction of Hidden Canyon she searched for the herd of feral horses, and continued over the canyon until she reached the valley that Wade had mentioned. In the shadow of boulders at the eastern edge of the field, she spotted the herd. Landing several feet from them, she again shifted into the white mare and slowly approached. The lead mare lifted and shook her head. The stallion made snorting sounds and then relaxed. As quickly has they had noticed her, the small band ignored her. For the next hour, in turn, she introduced herself to each horse by sidling next to the animal and waiting for personal acceptance.

  About the time she'd decided to shift back into the nighthawk and return to the ranch, the advancing sound of hooves startled the herd and they galloped away. Fawn remained in the shadows of the boulders and watched an approaching rider obviously coming from the direction of the Crooked J Ranch.

  The rider halted and watched the dark shadows of the herd disappear. He started forward again, and then stopped, turning his horse in her direction and urging it forward. Fawn stayed perfectly still watching the rider's approach.

  A young cowboy reined in several feet from her and pulled off his hat to run a hand through pale blond hair. He said, "Now this is interesting. Why didn't you run with the other horses? You're a beautiful mare that I've never seen before. Oh, I'd remember you because you're different. Perhaps we'll meet again." He laughed, turned his horse around, and headed toward the canyon.

  Fawn waited until she could no longer see him before praying and shifting and flying as the nighthawk. She circled high above, watching the progress of the eerie stranger as he headed toward Hidden Canyon. Her instincts warned her to be wary. She flew above the canyon and then swooped to land on a craggy ledge. From her vantage point, she watched his progress until he stopped at the spring and tethered his horse to a rock. Looking up, he searched the crags and she got the creepy sensation that he knew she was there. She was tempted to fly back to Wade's home and the comfort of her bedroom. However, Zoe was her mission, and she needed to know if there was any significance to this new development.

  The young man walked to the path leading to the Anasazi ruins and Fawn flew to a closer crag. The man again looked in her direction. The feeling of creepiness increased as he returned to his upward climb. He reached the ledge of ancient dwellings and purposefully walked to the kiva in the center. Stepping down into the circular subterranean place reserved for ceremonies, he continued to a small hole in the ground surrounded by stones, known as the sipapu, and sat beside it. According to Hopi legends the sipapu was symbolic of the entrance through which humanity emerged from the third world into the current fourth world.

  The cowboy removed his hat and set it beside his body. Then he removed his boots, setting them beside his hat. Next, he sat in the lotus position and placed his palms downward on his thighs. Fawn watched his inert stance for a long time, but soon she would have to leave to reach the ranch before sunrise. Suddenly, the air electrified before becoming completely still. Nothing moved; not bird, insect, reptile, nor wind. The strange man raised his head, looked toward her hiding place, and yelled, "You can't save her…or the Prince!"

  Immediately after shouting he reached for his boots as if nothing unusual had happened. After putting them on, he settled his cowboy hat back on his head and made the steep descent downward. Mounting his horse, he returned in the direction he had come.

  When he was out of sight, Fawn flew back to the ranch and landed next to the house to shift and return to her room. Lying under her covers, she shivered, but not from the cold.

  CHAPTER 10:

  FEAR

  After tossing and turning all night, Fawn showered, pulled her hair into a French braid, and prepared for another day in the Spencer household. Although she required little rest as a shapeling, her sleepless night had taken a toll. She not only looked tired, she felt it. The turn in events from the night before weighed heavily on her. What had the man meant when he'd yelled, "You can't save her…or the Prince!" Had he been referring to Zoe? And how could he know about the Prince? She gave herself one last glance in the mirror and pinched her cheeks to bring color to them before going to the kitchen. A few minutes later the smell of the coffee she'd brewed wafted throughout the room and she poured herself a cup. Sitting at the table and opening the cookbook she and Zoe were always perusing, she flipped to the breakfast section and envied the person who could create such beautiful crepes, biscuits, and quiches. The door swung open and Wade entered.

  "I could smell the coffee all the way upstairs."

  "Good morning, Wade."

  He reached for a cup and studied her face. "You look tired. The sun's barely up, so why don't you go back to bed and rest? I know how trying Zoe and the household can become."

  "Oh, no. I'll be fine after I finish this." She raised her coffee cup.

  Wade searched her face again and his steady gaze sent tingles up her spine.

  Finally, he said, "I'm not sure if I've already told you this, but Eileen Porter—she's the lady you met when you arrived—picks Zoe up every Friday at two o'clock and takes her back to her house for piano lessons. We started the lessons because Zoe's home schooled. It gives her a chance to get away from the house."

  Has she ever attended public school?"

  "She tried to, but it only lasted about two weeks. She got into a fight with a boy and smacked him in the nose. Then she had an episode with the voices and screamed so loud the school called the paramedics. Needless to say, the principle refused to allow her to return. Her last home-school teacher was a woman who works with Special Ed children, but after several voices episodes she quit. We're between teachers, but since it's so close to summer break, I'm not worrying about a replacement yet."

  Wade sipped his coffee and Fawn glanced at the cookbook. "Would you like me to make you breakfast?" She eyed the beautiful pictures and inwardly cringed at her inability to create them.

  "Ah, no, don't bother. I'll catch breakfast with the hands so we can discuss the day's work." He lifted his hip off the counter. "Well, have a nice day. Use the walkie-talkie if you need anything or Zoe has an episode."

  "Okay, thanks Wade." She smiled and gave a little wave as he reached for his hat. When he returned her smile, she suddenly felt shy and awkward; rare emotions for her. She flipped some pages in the cookbook and pretended to be interested in "Decadent Desserts." From the corner of her eye she watched him set his hat firmly on his head. She looked up when he opened the door and he raised a finger to tip the brow of his Stetson in a goodbye gesture.

  Shortly after he left Zoe pushed through the door, her curly hair in disarray, although it looked like she'd tried to tame it with barrettes. Fawn grinned at the adorable mess.

  "Good morning, Zoe. I'm guessing you want cereal for breakfast?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I'd like Cheerios."

  "Okay, Cheerios it is." Fawn walked to the cupboard and pulled the box out. "Zoe, you have beautiful hair. I know you want to brush it yourself, but would you mind if I gave it a try?"

  "I guess not, unless you make it hurt like the other sitters."

  "Honey, I promise that if you tell me it hurts, I'll stop. Why don't you run upstairs and get your brush while I fix your cereal?"

  "Okay, but not too much milk, it makes everything get soggy too fast."

  "You got it."

  After breakfast, they went to the living room and Zoe sat on the floor while Fawn sat on the couch gently brushing tangles from the child's hair. Fawn decided to broach the subject of the voices. Tentatively, she said, "Zoe, the first day I came here you were hearing voices, and then a couple of days later you did again."

  "Ye-ah."

  "Do you know what the voices are saying?"

  Instead of answering, Zoe asked a question. "So, you believe me about the voices?"

  "Of course, why shouldn't I?"

  "Cause no one else does. Everyone says it's my 'magination."

  "I think people say that because they don't understand. I want to under
stand. Can you tell me anything about the voices? When was the first time you heard them?" Gently, Fawn worked the brush over a stubborn tangle.

  "I was in the car with Mommy and I put my hands over my ears and cried. She stopped the car and after I told her what was wrong, she didn't say it was my 'magination. She said she hears them too, but she ignores them. She told me not to be afraid and said she'd teach me how to ignore them. But then we were in the accident a few days later."

  "Are you afraid when you hear the voices?"

  "Not when I hear the angel's voice. It sounds so pretty. I've tried to understand her words, but I never can. She keeps trying to tell me something."

  Fawn refastened one of the clips in Zoe's golden locks. "When you don't hear the angel's voice, what do you hear?"

  Zoe shivered. "I hear a bunch of noisy people yelling. I don't know what they're saying and I don't think they like me." Zoe started to say something else and hesitated.

  "What is it, honey?"

  She bit her bottom lip. "I see colors, too."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Everyone has colors. When I told a boy at school his were ugly 'cause he was mean, he said I was lying. So I hit him. Now I can't go back to school. You have really pretty colors, Fawn."

  Fawn placed her arms around the child and hugged her. She decided to lighten the mood. "Hey, let's see what we can cook today. Maybe it won't topple over like our chocolate scramble."

  Zoe giggled. "That was fun. Yeah, let's try again."

  After attempting to make biscuits that came out as hard as rocks, they had another laughing spree. Later, when Wade came to the house to check on them, he found them upstairs rearranging Zoe's bedroom. Holding a biscuit in his hand, he said, "Dare I take a bite?"

 

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