Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (40 page)

“Okay, okay. Enough shop talk. I’m sorry if I upset you. I hear you and I guess we’re on the same side. I just don’t like it when animals are harmed to save the government a few dollars.

Devon nodded and relaxed. “Agreed. Enough talk of work. That was an excellent dinner, Sue. Thanks so much. You’re really a fantastic cook, almost as good as my mom.”

“Well, thanks, Devon. That’s a huge compliment.” She turned to Milla. “So, would anyone care for dessert?” She wasn’t used to cooking for guests and it felt nice sharing a meal.

“Nah, I’m full,” Milla replied.

“Me, too, “ Devon echoed as he pushed away from the table.

“You haven’t even seen it yet,” Sue said as she reached for a manila envelope.

“Is that what I think it is?” Devon asked as she placed it into his hands.

“Yep, it’s the document we sent away for a few months ago,” Sue said, winking at Milla.

He laid the contents of the envelope on the table as Milla leaned in a little closer. It was a death certificate for a man named Ian McLeary. “Father’s name: Stephen McLeary. Mother’s name: Mildred Spencer. Oh, my goodness, we are related!” Devon shouted.

“How?” Milla asked as she jumped out of her seat.

“Look, look! Ian McLeary is the man my dad and his siblings were living with in that old census we found,” Devon said in awe. “This is his death certificate telling us his parents’ names. See? It says his mother was Mildred Spencer.”

“But who is Mildred Spencer, Dad? I still don’t get it.”

“We’re not 100% sure yet, Milla, but we think it may be your great-grandfather’s sister.”

Devon turned to Sue. “So what’s next—do we go chasing after Mildred?”

“Yep, I can only hope it leads us to your grandfather,” Sue smiled. “Pretty good dessert, huh?”

“I’m speechless,” Devon replied, shaking his head in wonder.

“It came in the mail today and I haven’t had time to do any checking up on Mildred yet. It looks to me that my relatives are connected with yours, although I’m not exactly sure how.”

Devon turned to his daughter and patted her on the head. Milla was right, he thought—everything feels so comfortable here. It felt like he was just chatting with family. Could Sue Preston really be related to them? What if they found out that it was all just a coincidence—would it really matter? Was he getting his hopes up just like his dad? Maybe, yet now that he had seen this new clue, he wanted Sue to be in his family. He was itching to find out who Mildred Spencer was; the puzzle was starting to come together. He reached for his hat.

Sue walked them to the door. “Milla, how was working around the barn today? Did the workload scare you off? I really need your help and I’m hoping you like it here.”

Milla held out her red hands to show them her blisters. She stood stretching her back and managed to stifle a yawn.

Sue gave her a hug. “Better put some ointment on those sores. Next time you need to wear gloves, honey.”

Milla sniffed her sleeve and crinkling her nose. “I love it here, Mrs. Preston, but I think if I’m not careful I’m going to start smelling like my dad.”

“Hey, I don’t stink,” Devon said as he brushed the dust off his jeans and shook out his hat. “Ask 7-Up out there—he loves my smell.”

“Geez, it’s bad enough everyone tells me I look like you, but smell like you? NO THANKS, DAD!”

Sue turned to Devon. “Well, what do you say—do you think it would be okay if Milla dropped the Mrs. Preston and called me Aunt Sue?” Milla looked up at her father with a look that made his heart melt.

“Absolutely. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us,” he said, giving Sue a little hug.

“I didn’t do anything, Devon, but I swear, I think your mother is guiding us through this. I really do.”

“Then you and my daughter have a lot in common because Milla feels the same way,” he replied, scruffing up his daughter’s hair.

“By the way, Devon,” Sue said. “Don’t forget about my three empty stalls. I really need to find some boarders. 7-Up and Penny are eating me out of house and home and I can use the extra income.”

“I’ll post your flyer up at the BLM office and ask around. Someone’s always looking for a place to keep their horse,” Devon replied. Milla grew quiet as she listened to her father chatting away with this woman who had been a close friend of her grandmother’s. Aunt Sue, she wants me to call her—Aunt Sue, Milla thought. I wonder if Grandma really is guiding us through all of this or if it’s all a big coincidence? She sure shows up in my thoughts a lot and now she even paints with me in my dreams.

Devon and Sue looked over at Milla, who was staring out at the sunset. The pinks and purples created a patchwork of shadows along the Calico Mountains. “Ready to go, Mil? It’s getting late.”

“In a sec, Dad, just give me a few…ahh, there it is,” she said as she pointed off in the distance.

“What?” Devon asked. “What are you looking at?”

“The stitches,” Sue and Milla said in unison.

Milla turned in surprise to Aunt Sue. “You know about them, too?”

“Of course. Your grandmother and I know all about the magic of the Calico Mountains, but not everyone can see their stitches.”

“I think you’re all nuts,” Devon laughed as he waved goodbye to Sue and nudged his daughter toward the jeep. Milla smiled and as she glanced back she saw two women waving goodbye from the back porch. How can she…is that? No, it can’t be. She stopped and looked closer as the flickering lights of sunset dipped behind the Calico Mountains and her Aunt Sue, covered in purple shadows, blew her a kiss.

Chapter 61

Sunday, August 17th:

Daddy said Aunt Lucy’s doctors think her baby might be born soon. He said it’s too early and the family is worried. I’m going to send her one of my paintings I made in camp. I love my dad but sometimes he acts so weird. Yesterday before we hung up he sounded pretty upset. I guess I shouldn’t have told him about my plans to get a horse, but I thought he would be happy for me. He said something about money again. I told him Mom said I should tell him to talk to her about that stuff. I wish I just ignored him because that made it worse. He said he’s coming to see me in December. I hope I can talk Mom into adopting Cricket. I wish Shannon were coming sooner. I’m glad she’s feeling better and I hope her friend’s parents let her keep her horse, Jasmine. Parents can be so dumb sometimes. I had a dream that I was in my room back in New Jersey but when I went outside I was in Nevada looking at new homes with Milla. We were riding bikes and then Shannon rode by on a horse. It felt so real. I can’t wait for Shannon to meet Milla. My hair is getting longer. Mommy and I are moving soon but I like it here.

“So what do you think?” asked Brenda, eyeing her daughter as she walked around the little home.

“Are you sure about this, Mom? I mean, what’s wrong with staying at the bungalow? Sam said it would be okay,” Carrie said as she peeked into an empty closet.

“I’ll meet you two outside,” the realtor said.

“Don’t you want a place that’s all our own?” Brenda asked, putting her purse down on the counter.

“Yeah, kinda,” said Carrie, flicking a light switch up and down. “Uh oh, look—the electricity is broken, Mom.”

“No, they just don’t have it turned on yet. What do you mean…kinda? Don’t you want a place where Flannel has her own yard and we don’t have any B&B guests wandering around?”

“I like it there,” Carrie replied. “If you want to move here, it’s okay and all, but I just want to make sure this is what
you
want, Mom.” Brenda threw up her hands and went to find the realtor. Carrie walked around the freshly painted rooms and hallways. The sounds of her steps echoed off the empty walls as she walked back to look out the rear windows. Yes, it had a nice large yard where she and Flannel could play, but was this the home for them?

The real estate agent had a smile that looked frozen to his face as he drove away. Brenda decided it was time for a heart-to-heart talk with her daughter so she drove around until she found a quiet little bench beside an empty park.

“It’s not like I don’t understand, Mom. It’s just that you want me to agree with you all the time. I’m me and you’re you. I don’t think like you—you’re a mom, for goodness sakes,” Carrie said, chewing on a nail.

“Please stop biting your nails. I’m trying to figure out what’s best for both of us, Carrie, and you need to be straight with me.”

“Straight with you? You mean like tell you exactly what I really think?” Carrie asked, raising her voice.

“Yes, we need to make an important decision here, so be honest with me.” Brenda patted her daughter on the shoulder. Carrie pulled back and stood up.

“Now you want to know how I feel? What about New Jersey? You didn’t care how I felt then? You just decided for both of us. I never see Daddy and he’s always grumpy when he calls. I finally feel like I’m actually starting to fit in here and you want to move again? This is so unreal, Mom!”

“I’m trying to make this go smoothly, Carrie. I’m
letting
you help choose where we live. I don’t see the problem.” Brenda crossed her arms.

“Unbelievable…unbelievable!” Carrie shouted. “You sit here pretending to actually care about what I want or what I think. I want my father, okay? I want my parents to stop fighting and cancel the stupid divorce and I want us to all live together!” she cried, fighting back tears.

“Sorry, Carrie, but that is never going to happen, so we need to figure out what’s best for the two of us. Yes, Daddy will visit but we won’t ever be living together again. That part is in the past now,” Brenda said as she wiped away tears and dug in her purse for tissues.

“Well, I’ve wanted to talk to
you
about stuff too, Mom, okay? But whenever I do the timing is never right. I know that you want to get a new place and all and to tell you the truth I was hoping we could find a place with a barn.”

“Barn? Why a barn?”

“Well, I was kinda wanting to adopt….”

“Oh, no, not this horse talk again. I can’t possibly adopt a horse, Carrie. I can barely pay for a house for
us
let alone a home for a horse.”

“But I have to find a place for Cricket or someone else will get him,” Carrie said, crying softly.

Brenda shook her head. “Who’s Cricket?” she asked in disbelief.

“He’s the most adorable little foal at camp and his mom was killed and he’s an orphan and please, please say yes,” blurted Carrie, her tears overflowing.

“How did our talk about a new house turn into this?”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on asking you now, but you said you wanted me to tell you what I wanted. This is what I want!” Carrie said as she blew her nose.

“Oh, Carrie, my new job starts in a week and you start classes in a new school soon. We have to decide where we’re living. A horse just doesn’t fit into this conversation. Not today. Maybe later but not now.” Carrie crumbled into tears and began sobbing uncontrollably. Brenda held her daughter and looked off into the distance. A few birds landed beside Carrie and tilted their heads as if wanting to comfort her.

“Don’t you get it, Mom? All my meditations about Calico Mountains and Calico horses and us moving here are all connected. You even told me I was special and that I was getting some kind of messages,” she cried. “Well, this is the message, Mom. I think I’m supposed to rescue horses.”

Brenda didn’t reply but sat there thinking about what Carrie had just told her. She was not in a position to adopt a horse and she didn’t want to seem insensitive to Carrie’s feelings about her meditation messages or her dreams; no one really knew what they meant.

“Why aren’t you saying anything, Mom? What else could all of it mean? I started having those dreams in New Jersey before I even knew anything about any horses or mountains. Geez, and what about all that calico fabric just appearing out of nowhere.”

“You are special, Carrie, of course you are, and I know you feel it’s somehow connected. This is all such a big mystery but the reality is that I can’t afford a horse. Maybe someday but not now. I just can’t do it. It’s out of the question—period.”

“So that’s your answer? Even after all I told you about what I think this means? Great, Mom, then you pick the house by yourself. I don’t care what happens.”

“Oh, come on—don’t try to pin this guilt on me, Carrie. We came here to make a decision about a house, not a horse, and you know it.”

“You came here to make me think you wanted to hear what I have to say but all you care about is
you
,” Carrie said, crying harder.

Brenda raised her voice, “That’s not fair, Carrie, and it’s not true. Just because I can’t afford a horse doesn’t mean I’m insensitive to your wishes. To tell you the truth, this is exactly why parents don’t talk about this stuff with kids. This is the very reason why we make decisions without discussing it because when it comes to paying for all the stuff you kids want, we’re the ones stuck doing all the work.”

Carrie shot her mom an angry look and stopped crying. She wiped her tears on her sleeve and looked away. Brenda blew her nose and stood to signal the end of the conversation. Carrie still felt hurt and she didn’t want to end the conversation; she wanted Cricket and she felt her mom should somehow make the money work no matter what. What in the world was her mom talking about? What did she mean by stuck with all the work? Carrie would be the one taking care of the horse, not her mom. She was the one going to camp, she was the one learning how to clean stalls and feed horses. Geez, none of this made sense. “I never said you would be doing all the work, Mom,” she said.