Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (20 page)

A moment later she heard a scratching sound on the window and stood there frozen in fear. It was totally dark in her bedroom and the moonlight peering through the windows created creepy shadows stretched across the floor. She wished Flannel and Carrie were here. “Scritch scritch” came the sound again. Brenda adjusted her eyes to the darkness and sighed with relief when she saw a tree branch brushing up against the window. “Click” went the switch to her bedroom light; “click click” went the switches to the light in the bathroom and the light in the hallway. It’s a good thing my dad isn’t here, she thought, I can just hear him scolding me about wasting electricity.

She started to get cozy under the covers with her book and realized she had left her glasses in her purse in the dark little room by the back door. Rats! she thought, flipping back the sheets and getting out of bed. Don’t be ridiculous—you’re no longer a kid so just march in that room and flick on some lights and get your darn purse, she said to herself, trying to instill some courage. Brenda didn’t like to admit this, but she was afraid of the dark. Maybe she should just go to sleep and forget about reading. “Scritch scritch” went the branch on the window. I think maybe Carrie and Milla should stay here if they have another sleepover, Brenda thought, as she stood in the hall stuck in her indecision about entering complete darkness to retrieve her reading glasses.

This fear of darkness started when she was a little girl. She had fond memories of playing with her sisters and brothers but those memories were also peppered with those of older brothers who told scary stories. Even today she couldn’t sleep with a foot dangling because they warned her of icky bad monsters who might jump out and grab a foot. Trolls and creepy things liked to live under beds, especially the ones of little girls. Oh, why did she even play with them, she thought, thinking back to the games of hide and seek and how her brothers would leave her alone in the dark and then slowly reach a hand in to grab her. Ughh, this is ridiculous, she thought—I’m thirty-six and I can’t even go get my glasses.

The realization that things that went bump in the night only grew from the imagination of her childhood helped bolster her courage…but only slightly. She took a deep breath, counted to three, and ran to get her purse as she loudly sang the national anthem. By the time she made it back to her room she was belting out “and the rockets’ red glare.” Panting, she looked around to make sure she had everything she needed. Let’s see…book, bed, glasses, and lots of lights…perfect. As she tossed her purse a folded pamphlet fell onto the rug beside her bed. Oh, yeah, she remembered, this was the brochure Devon had given her. She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and adjusted her reading glasses.

The booklet had an entire section dedicated to a woman named Velma Johnston, also known as “Wild Horse Annie.” She was credited for the passage of a law that helped to protect the wild horses and burros. Brenda read the last sentence aloud: “Wild Horse Annie helped to make them symbols of the pioneer spirit of the west.” Wow, thought Brenda—symbols of spirit. Who was this amazing woman and how did she manage to be so courageous?

She closed the booklet and thought about her own life. Heck, I feel like a pioneer myself, she thought. I had to face some hard decisions when I quit my job, packed my bags, and headed out here with my daughter in the hopes of finding a better life. She thought of how her family and friends all thought she was a fool. They meant well, she guessed, but change frightened a lot of people. How come I’m scared of the dark but I can forge ahead against all odds and drive almost 3,000 miles to begin a new life? She looked around the little room with its bookcases and shelves filled with Sam’s wild horse statues looking down on her like guardians. There are those horses again, she thought. Maybe they really are symbols of spirit. They sure keep popping up in my life.

I need to give myself some credit, she thought, as she put the pamphlet on top of a book on her nightstand and switched off the light. I’ve done something amazing and I know it’s just the beginning. It’s not going to be easy, but there’s something about this that feels right. I wonder if I can find out more about this Wild Horse Annie? She sounds like just the inspiration I need. Her body relaxed as she rubbed her sore muscles. There would be more hard work tomorrow and she needed a good night’s rest so she could begin fresh in the morning. She was happy lying here in her new little space and she knew she was on the right path. She closed her eyes and rolled over. “Scritch scritch” went the branch against her window. Her eyes popped open and she looked at a statue of a rearing stallion. “Hey, spirit of the west,” she called out. “You’re on night watch.”

Chapter 36

Sam hung up the phone and looked at her watch. State inspectors were coming in an hour. Terrific, just when Brenda had started major renovations in one of the rooms. Oh, well, she thought—at least they would see I’ve started making improvements. Bump…thump. She could hear Brenda moving furniture. How wonderful to have someone else doing some of the much-needed work that she couldn’t keep up with. The bell of the front door rang and she went to greet the guests.

“Welcome,” she said to a couple carrying luggage and a map.

“Howdy,” said a man with a New York accent. Often visitors from the east coast would greet her in cowboy lingo, thinking it was their own private joke.

“What can I do for you?”

“We were wondering if you had a room available. My wife and I want a real western experience and we saw your sign with the horses and thought this would be perfect.”

“Great,” Sam said, as she prepared to enter their information into her computer.

“Do you have a pool?” asked the woman.

“No, ma’am,” she said. “We have a beautiful dining area, a sitting room where we have excellent live musical entertainment, and a large outdoor area with hanging porch swings where you can relax and enjoy the beautiful scenery.”

“Do you have a gym or exercise room?” the woman asked, wrinkling her nose.

“No, ma’am, but there are wonderful trails only a few steps away that will take you to see the amazing Calico Mountains.”

“Um…no thanks, I don’t want to get bitten by a snake,” said the lady, grimacing. Sam tried to remember the last time a snake had bitten someone in Saddlecrest; must have been over twenty years.

“Well, do you at least have a large screen TV?” the woman asked, frowning at her husband.

Sam stopped typing and looked at the couple. “This is a Bed & Breakfast. People come here to enjoy the relaxing desert scenery and unplug from their busy lives. It’s peaceful here and that’s really all I can offer you. That and a wonderful breakfast prepared by a terrific chef.”

The woman tugged on her husband’s sleeve and they moved away to whisper to one another. Sam knew instantly that she was dealing with what her dad referred to as “high-maintenance clients” and she hoped they would go find a hotel in Reno. The whispering became agitated.

“Well, then, you drive!” she heard the man say. “All I’m saying,”
whisper, whisper
, “if she doesn’t even have clean,”
whisper, whisper, whisper
.

Have a clean what? thought Sam, now getting a bit ruffled. Moments later two men walked in and the couple moved out of Sam’s earshot. The men opened their wallets and flashed inspector badges.

“See,” said the woman, “it’s probably the Board of Health. Let’s go!” With that they picked up their luggage and the man waved
never mind
to Sam. She turned her attention to the inspectors and led them back to the kitchen.

CRASH! came a noise from above. Smiling, Sam excused herself and hurried up the stairs. “Ow, ow, ow,” came a voice behind the door. Brenda was lying on the floor, hugging her knee. A ladder was lying on its side.

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, kneeling beside her. “What the devil happened?”

“I went to step up the ladder to finish taping off the ceiling and missed a rung. My foot went right through the ladder and I fell.”

“Come on. We’ve got to get some ice on it or you’ll really be hurting later.” Sam helped her friend stand up.

“Ow-owwww,” Brenda said as she tried to get up.

Sam became alarmed. “Did you break it?”

Brenda reached into a little pocket in her painter’s jeans and pulled out the screwdriver that was digging into her leg. “No, I was stabbing myself,” she said, tossing the tool into a box. The two women sat up looking around the room. All of the windows were edged in blue masking tape. Patches of sanded spackling dotted the walls. Electric sockets were bare, their plates removed, and the drop cloth was bunched up where Sam had knocked over the ladder.

“This is a great day for the inspectors to visit,” Sam laughed. “This place looks like a war zone.”

“Inspectors, today?” asked Brenda, putting some weight on her leg.

“No big deal. Let’s go get that ice.” Brenda limped down the stairs with Sam’s assistance, meeting the inspectors as they came out of the kitchen. Sam smiled and told them about the room being repaired and the men said, “Uh huh,” and made some notes on a clipboard. “Geez, friendly guys,” Brenda said.

Sam went to the kitchen in search of lunch while Brenda, her knee packed in ice, called to check on Carrie. Max strolled in and looked at Brenda sitting in his favorite chair. He looked at the ice bag on her knee and stepped a bit closer. Brenda put her hand out to pet him and he sidestepped her, not wanting any contact from a woman who clearly associated with annoying dogs.

The two women finished their meal just as the inspectors came to say goodbye. Brenda removed the ice and headed back to work. Sam read the inspectors’ report, while Max hopped up onto his chair.

The day continued without any further interruptions and Sam was able to catch up on some chores, including a much needed phone call to her parents. Her dad was in a jovial mood and spoke of days sitting beside a pool or playing golf. Her mother sounded in a hurry to hang up as she was meeting some friends to go shopping. She couldn’t recall the last time she saw her mom in a hurry to do anything. She moved like molasses and it took forever to get her to finish a story. Florida life was really agreeing with her, Sam thought. She couldn’t get over how her dad had changed the subject when she brought up the inspection at the B&B—the same establishment that he had owned and operated for over forty years. He really doesn’t want to hear a peep about this place, she realized. Well, good, I guess. He has finally learned to move on and enjoy his life. Happy, healthy, and living in Florida with people their own age who drove golf carts to the grocery store and whose only worries were stocking up on sunscreen and mosquito repellent. They’ve earned it, she thought, as she looked at Max stretched out across his favorite seat.

Brenda smiled at the lounging cat and was reminded that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for her to slow down and take life less seriously herself. She was no different than anyone else. Sure, she had the stress of running her own business and bills to pay, but she was happy in her own little space. Having a friend who was helping fix up the place made it even sweeter. Life is good, she sighed, and I need to remind myself it could be a lot worse.

“Ring, ring” went the little bell attached to the front door. Sam switched off the office light and went to greet her guests.

“Howdy,” said the man with the New York accent. “We’re back.”

Chapter 37

Shannon turned the patchwork so that the inside seams faced her and examined her stitches exactly as her grandmother had taught her. She smoothed out the little seams and placed another freshly cut square alongside the neatly stitched row, checking again that both good sides faced each other. She stopped to examine the pattern to make sure she had it evenly mixed up; her favorite color was blue and sometimes, if she wasn’t careful, she would accidently sew two or three blue squares together. She smiled at her work, enjoying the progress. Her mom, Jodi, sat beside her, admiring her work.

“Shannon, I’m so proud of you. I had no idea you were such a good seamstress.”

“Thanks, Mom.” She beamed as she held up the little quilt.

“Did Grandmom talk to you about the purpose of these little quilts?” Jodi asked.

“She said something about hospitals and special places for kids who really need them,” replied Shannon. “They’re pretty easy to do, Mom. I can teach you if you want.”

Jodi reached for the pincushion, fiddling with the needles. “Your grandmother has been trying to get me to sew for years. I can barely sew on a button, let alone make a quilt. No, Shannon—I think you’re the one with the gift of creating with fabric.”

Brian came into the room and saw his mother sitting close to his big sister. Not wanting Shannon to have all the attention, he sat on his mother’s lap. He picked up a few squares, threw them into the air, watched them fall like little parachutes, and then quickly tossed them up again.

“Stop it, Brian!” Shannon yelled. “Go find something else to play with. This is important.”

“Grandmom didn’t just give them to you,” Brian said. “She let me look at them when we were at her house.”

“Looking and throwing is a big difference,” Jodi said as she took the swatches from Brian and placed them next to Shannon. “Don’t you think it’s time to take that helmet off? Honestly, son, I cannot understand how you sleep in it. It’s like resting on a rock.”

“Yeah, if you’re not careful it might just grow onto your head,” Shannon piped in.