A Moment in Time (20 page)

He took his time, lingering at one stall
after the other, until he finally reached Demon. He eyed the
magnificent Arabian admiringly, then began stroking him as he had
the others, talking to him in almost a whisper. Demon had been his
favorite for a long time now, and he couldn't wait to saddle him
up.

He had started to open the stall door when a
sudden noise made him stand still and listen. After a few seconds
of hearing nothing more than the usual sounds of the stable at
night, he reached for the stall door again. And heard the strange
noise again.

What the hell?
he wondered. He stood
listening once more. He walked down past Demon's stall, being as
quiet as he could in his riding boots, and heard the sound again,
unmistakably to his right this time.

He looked into the stall from which the sound
had emanated. His eyes grew wide with alarm and then growing
disbelief and horror as he stared at the horse that stood staring
back at him from within the stall. It was a horse that Santo had
purchased only a few days ago, Layla by name, and she was in acute
distress, of that there could be no mistaking. The sounds had been
her whinnies of pain.

Opening the stall door, he stepped in for a
closer look. Her nose was bleeding profusely, and her legs were
horribly swollen, as was her neck. Then he noticed something else.
Her coat was covered with a wet, slick- looking secretion.
I've
never seen anything like this in my life,
he thought. What
the hell could it be?

He went down on one knee to get a closer look
at her swollen legs. They were white, and he could clearly see
where she was hemorrhaging beneath the skin. He felt her swollen
throat. It was as if she had the mumps.

His mind began to race, and his heart was
sick, for he knew the horse must be in great pain. He stroked her
neck for a moment, then backed out of the stall and closed the
door.

Gone were all thoughts of riding tonight as
he ran toward the office telephone. He would have to call the vet
immediately to see to Layla. Then it occurred to him that he was
alone here at Stonelair. Santo was gone. The Reinhardts were
gone.

It's okay, though
, he thought.
They'll have their cell phones. I'll call Santo first and get
him back here as quickly as possible. Then he can handle the
vet
. He reached the office and lunged toward the telephone
there. He picked it up and punched in Santo's number. It began to
ring.

Darkness was descending, and Valerie had
spread out on a chaise longue on the screened-in porch at the back
of her house. Elvis was curled up on the floor beside her, sleeping
soundly. She idly gazed out at the pale moon's reflection on the
small pond in the garden.
It's such a perfect late summer
night
, she thought.

Her eyes shifted to the approach to the pond
and the flower beds bordering the stone steps that led down to it.
The whites and silvers of the moon garden she had planted were
beginning to reflect the moon's light, as the pond reflected the
moon itself. She'd worked hard planting it, not quite believing
that it would be as effective as Colette had sworn it would be.
She'd been delighted to discover that Colette had not only been
right, but that it held a magic she would never have anticipated.
It was like looking at a particularly complicated painting,
mysterious and secretive, not wanting to give up all of its
details, compelling one to delve deeper to discover what lay hidden
in its combination of darkness and light.

She squeezed herself with her arms, aware of
the fact that she felt somewhat lonely, despite the beauty of the
night. She didn't have to be alone tonight. Teddy had called to
tell her that he was coming up and was going to stay over a couple
of nights since he couldn't be here over the weekend. He had to
spend another weekend with important clients, this time in
Connecticut. He'd wanted her to come over and stay with him, but
she'd begged off.

Frogs, along with unseen creatures of all
sorts, had begun singing their nightly chorale, but she took little
comfort from their cacophony. She had to admit that company would
be nice, human company preferably, but was determined that she
wouldn't let her loneliness drive her to Teddy.

Suddenly she heard a noise around at the side
of the house. Elvis scrambled to his feet and barked. For a moment
she was alarmed. Then she realized that it was simply the creaking
of the hinge on the front garden gate.

Colette
, she thought. With the
exception of her mother and Teddy—both of whom would call
first—Colette was the only person who would come around that way
rather than ring the doorbell at the front first. Elvis had quit
barking and stood wagging his tail at the door that led onto the
porch. Valerie smiled somewhat ruefully.
I'm going to have
company after all,
she thought.

"Val, darling?" Colette's near whisper was
like an exotic sigh carried by the late summer breeze. "Are you
there?"

"I'm here, Colette," she replied. "On the
porch."

"Am I a bother?" the older woman asked.

"You know better than that, Colette."

From out of the darkness, the older woman's
snowy hair appeared, and Valerie watched as she took deliberate
little steps on the stone path that led to the porch.

"Wait, Colette," she said. "Let me turn on
the light for you."

"No, no, my darling," Colette said. "Don't
break the spell. It's so lovely like this. So romantic."

Valerie rose to her feet and went out onto
the path and took Colette's arm. "Here," she said. "Let me lead the
way at least."

On the porch, Colette settled herself in a
chair, petting Elvis while Valerie lit several candles on the
dining table.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" Valerie
asked.

"Oh, lovely, darling," Colette said. "My
grandfather, a doctor, always said a glass before bedtime was just
the ticket."

"I'll be right back," Valerie said.

She stepped through the open French doors
into the kitchen and got a crystal wineglass out of a cabinet, then
retrieved a bottle of chilled white wine out of the refrigerator.
She set Colette's glass on the table next to her chair, then filled
the glass.

"Oh, Val," Colette enthused, "you are a saint
for putting up with an old ninny like me."

Valerie laughed. "Don't be silly," she said.
"You know you're welcome here anytime, Colette."

Valerie refreshed her own glass of wine and
sat back down. She took a sip, staring at one of the candles,
ringed by moths, its honeysuckle scent pleasant in her nostrils.
She felt Colette's eyes on her, but didn't break the silence.

Colette lifted her goblet delicately by the
stem, swirled the wine in the glass, then took a tiny sip.
"Delicious," she pronounced, setting the glass back down. "Heavenly
on the palate."

Valerie turned to her slowly and smiled. "It
is, isn't it?" she agreed. "Teddy gave it to me." She paused a
moment, her gaze shifting back to the candle. "He knows so much
about wine," she continued, "and always makes such good choices. He
doesn't trust me to." She laughed lightly, but there was no humor
in it.

"Teddy does have excellent taste," Colette
said, "but that's not everything, is it?"

Valerie looked at her, and Colette cocked her
brow. Valerie laughed again, but it was genuine this time, full of
mirth. "You're a pistol, Colette," she said.

"And you're unhappy," the older woman said,
picking up her wineglass again. The large rings on her fingers
flashed brilliantly in the candlelight.

Valerie started to reply, but clammed up
instead, watching Colette sip the wine, thinking about what she'd
said. A lot of people thought of Colette as a supercilious woman,
capricious to a fault, eccentric in her ways, and spoiled by money,
and Valerie realized that all of that was undeniably true. It was
not all that Colette was, however, and Valerie would never
underestimate her friend. For among her other assets, Colette was
extremely observant, worldly wise, and had a wealth of experiences
and knowledge.
In fact,
Valerie thought,
she's probably
the sharpest person I know
.

Much of Colette's eccentricity, Valerie had
decided, was part of a pose that the old woman had long ago
perfected, a protective pose that she had developed to keep the
world at arm's length. On the surface, Colette appeared to be
carefree and fun-loving, a bit zany and daring, and she was all of
those things. But she'd also been wounded by life and chose to keep
her disappointments to herself.

Valerie decided not to brush off Colette's
remark, and at last asked, "Why do you say that, Colette?"

Colette turned sharp eyes on her. "It's
simple, Val. I don't see the blush on the peach that ought to be
there when one is deeply in love," she replied. "You're not excited
by Teddy. That much is clear. To me at least."

Valerie felt her face burn with
embarrassment.
Is it that obvious?
she wondered. She looked
off into the distance, then cleared her throat and turned to
Colette. "I ... I guess you're right," she said in a small voice.
"I've been seeing Teddy so long that I guess he's . . ." She
stopped and searched for words.

"Teddy's become a habit," Colette supplied.
"And why not? He's handsome and has charm. He has money and
connections. He's well-bred, and . . . he's a dreadful bore. At
least, to you. And, I daresay, to me as well."

Valerie erupted into laughter.

Colette smiled. "Am I on the mark,
darling?"

Valerie nodded her head and ran her fingers
through her hair. "I guess you are, Colette," she said. She looked
over at her friend. "Oh, hell," she said with a laugh, "you've hit
the nail on the head, as usual."

Colette nodded knowingly, her eyes still on
Valerie.

Valerie took a sip of her wine, then set the
glass down. "But I don't know what to do about it," she said with a
sigh. "I feel so damn guilty. We've gone together for so long, and
he's so determined. And so is Mother, of course."

She paused and her eyes took on a faraway
look before continuing.

"I used to think that I was really in love
with Teddy. He is good-looking and sweet and considerate, most of
the time at least. All those things you said." She smiled ruefully
at Colette. "But I'm beginning to realize that he was really the
first man that paid any attention to me. I guess I felt so grateful
that I thought I was in love."

Colette reached an arm over and brushed
Valerie's cheek with her fingertips. "These things happen, Val
darling, and they're unfortunate and sad. But you mustn't allow it
to drag you down and make you unhappy. If you really think it's
over with Teddy—and it certainly sounds as if that's the case to
me—then the thing for you to do is end it." She sliced a hand
through the air. "Like that!" she exclaimed. "Cut the cord. If you
don't, the pain—yours and his—will go on and on. You're just
prolonging the inevitable. Don't you see?"

Valerie shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
She knew very well that Colette's words were true, but they were
difficult to hear nevertheless. It was a problem she simply didn't
want to face.

"I just... I guess I'm just a chicken,"
Valerie said at last. She looked over at Colette. "I don't want to
have to deal with this. I'm . . . I'm . . . scared, Colette.
Especially since I accepted his engagement ring."

"Oh, darling," the older woman sighed,
reaching over and squeezing Valerie's hand in hers. "I understand
that perfectly, and I'm so sorry. I know I come on like a virago
sometimes, but I am thinking of you. I hate to see you unhappy, and
you haven't been happy with Teddy for quite a long time, I
think."

Valerie nodded.

"The only cure for your problem is being
honest. With yourself. And Teddy. A tall order, I know, but the
sooner the better, I say." She looked at Valerie steadily, those
large blue eyes glistening in the candlelight.

"You've got everything going for you, Val,"
she went on. "Everything. You have an unusual beauty. You have a
wonderful career. You have a marvelous personality, and even with
all your assets, you manage to be down-to-earth. You're a good
person, Val, a very good person. And they're hard to find."

Valerie shifted in her chair again. She
appreciated the compliments, but sometimes she still had a
difficult time accepting them as the truth about herself.

"And," Colette said with emphasis, "someone,
someday soon, I expect, will come along for you. A man better
suited to you. I'm sure of it."

Valerie looked at her. "Do you ... do you
really believe that, Colette?" she asked.

Colette nodded dramatically. "Absolutely,"
she said. "Someone whom you'll be happy with." She paused and
sipped her wine. "Oh, realistically speaking, we all have to make
concessions at times. We have to compromise, Val, don't we? But
that doesn't mean you have to align yourself with a man who makes
you unhappy, even if he has a lot of good qualities. Think about
five years down the road. Ten. If you're unhappy with Teddy now,
think of years of it."

"Oh, Colette," Valerie groaned. "I know
you're right, dammit."

"And I refuse to believe that a man won't
come along who'll help make your life more joyous," Colette
said.

"You make me feel so much better," Valerie
said. "And ... a little bit less afraid, too."

"Remember, darling," Colette said, "Teddy may
be a man, and a strong and forceful one at that, but what's he
going to do?" She shrugged expansively. "He has no ironclad hold
over you. You're not married, after all, and this sort of thing
happens all the time. So I expect he'll fuss about for a while,
lick his wounds a bit, then get on with his life. There'll
undoubtedly be harsh words because of his disappointment, some
unpleasantness to deal with, but that won't last long. You'll
see."