Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (48 page)

The clouds grew thicker and the rumbling thunder seemed to come closer; he shivered as he looked back at the mountains, the ones that were named Calico because of their multiple colors and hues that gave them the appearance of patchwork…the same patchwork that now adorned the photo of his smiling mother that was sitting on a dresser back home.

Chapter 71

Grandmom listened with eyes wide as Shannon told her all about what had happened at Milla’s house. She told her all about Carrie’s dreams and meditations and about the whisperings of the little shell she was now holding. She showed her a copy of the painting Milla had done and all about the transformation of the little purple suede frame.

Grandmom said nothing and waited, neglecting her cup of tea that was no longer steaming. She loved how easily Shannon spoke to her of the things that were on her mind.

“And somehow we think it’s connected to me, too,” Shannon continued. “And I guess now that I think about it, probably
you
, too, Grandmom!”

“Me?” Grandmom put her hand over her heart. “How so?”

“You taught me how to stitch those little quilts right after Carrie started having those dreams. I was cutting and making patterns with fabric squares while they were appearing all over Carrie’s place and you’re the one who got me started.”

“Hmm, I see what you mean. Well, I guess I am a part of this, aren’t I? Are you sure someone isn’t just playing a joke on all of you?” she asked.

“Aw, you don’t believe us. I thought you of all people would understand.”

“No, no. I didn’t say I didn’t
believe
you; I’ve just never come across anything like it. I mean, I’ve heard of people having visions and I know that miracles happen all the time. But this…well, this seems so specific. What can it all mean?” She turned and stared out the window.

Shannon sank deeper into her favorite chair with its little arm covers that her grandmother embroidered. She breathed in the smell of the blueberry pie that was baking in the oven. Sitting here with Grandmom always made her feel safe and she wished school wasn’t starting in a few days.

“I know what we’ll do,” Grandmom announced, patting her knee. “Let’s write down all of our clues and look at them together.” She opened her desk drawer and as she pulled out a notebook and pen, a photo fell to the carpet. Shannon picked it up and was startled by what she saw. “Who’s this?”

“Hmm,” Grandmom said as she put on her glasses to study the photo. “Why, that’s your grandfather, of course. He died long before you were born. Haven’t you ever seen a photo of him? I’m sure your mother must have some around.”

“Who’s the little black dog sitting on his lap?” Shannon asked.

“Oh, that’s Zipper. He was such a dear little thing. He never left Harry’s side.” Grandmom held the photo up to the light. “Oh, how he loved that dog.”

“Did Grandpop always wear red suspenders?” Shannon asked, remembering the man that visited her in the hospital. The man her mom said was really only a dream.

“Why, yes, he did, honey. I can remember the fussing I used to do over those silly suspenders. I tried and tried to get him to wear a belt or at least a different color, but no—he loved those red suspenders.”

“Did he smell like you? I mean, did he smell like spice?” Shannon asked, recalling her visit with the kind man. Was he really in her dreams?

“Smell? Oh, do I smell like spice?” Grandmom asked. “Well, I’m not sure. I can’t remember him smelling like spice, but he’s been gone many years now, so I can’t remember.”

“Oh,” said Shannon. “Well…umm, he sounds really nice.”

“He was the best husband a woman would ever want, and, oh, how he spoiled your mother; he was such a good father.” She put the photo down and winked at Shannon. “Now, back to those clues—we have a mystery to solve.”

“Yeah, right!” said Shannon, “I’m not sure of the exact dates or anything. Should I call Carrie?”

“No, we don’t need anything like that right now. Let’s just jot things down and see where they lead.”

“Okay,” Shannon said. “Number one: Carrie has her first dream about mountains covered in fabric. Hmm, that was right before she moved so I’m going to write May next to it.”

Brian came in the back door carrying something high above his head trying to keep it away from Kelsie, who was jumping and yipping in excitement. “Hey, Grandmom, you got any turtle food?” he asked, hopping onto a stool and placing a large box turtle on the counter.

Grandmom shrieked, “What are you doing with that thing in my kitchen?”

“It’s hungry,” Brian replied as he watched the turtle’s head slowly peek out of its shell.

Grandmom wasn’t impressed. “Out, out! Outside with that creature!” she squawked.

“So you don’t have anything to feed it?” Brian repeated, holding the turtle in flying position while Kelsie danced around him. Grandmom squirted disinfectant on the counter and scrubbed it furiously with a towel. “I’ll look, I’ll look—now outside, and take off that helmet or you’ll get a heat rash!” she hollered.

Grandmom looked in the refrigerator, trying to imagine what she could give the poor turtle that was now the object of Brian’s affection. Some wilted lettuce and a tomato that was over ripened seemed the perfect feast and she placed it an old dish she felt was suitable for a reptile.

“Okay,” Shannon said. “I think I have it all down.”

“Let’s take a look.” Grandmom spread the pages out on the dining room table. “Wow, you wrote a lot.”

“Well, some are just side notes like you taught me, stuff that popped into my head. You always say to pay attention to that.” Together they studied the notes while Brian took off his helmet and placed his new friend inside. Brian walked out back while petting the turtle, feeling the pattern of its shell. Kelsie was lying under the picnic table enjoying the shade, disappointed with the scrap of lettuce that had fallen.

“Do you see anything that makes sense to you?” Grandmom asked Shannon. “Is there a pattern here?”

“Well, I see lots of connections. Patches of fabric start appearing in Nevada before they moved there.

“Good point, so it started before all the dreams.”

“Yeah, then Carrie has several visions about Calico Mountains and horses at the same time as I’m learning how to sew quilts.”

“Let’s put a note beside that about your quilts helping children. It could be important.”

Shannon pointed to the timeline. “Then Carrie goes to camp and learns all about helping foals and then Milla has a dream about painting them.”

Grandmom wrinkled her brow. “Do the squares keep appearing during this time?”

“Oh, yes. Carrie’s mom finds them and the lady Sam who runs the B&B and even a woman who works there finds them.” She shuffled through the papers. “And this last clue is about me. I got a message from my shell that’s a repeat of the one Carrie received. It says, ‘We are one.’”

“But you forgot to put the part about the infant and the baby horse,” Grandmom reminded her.

“Baby and baby…. Is that what ‘We are one’ means?” Grandmom stared at the timeline, rubbing her chin. The back door slammed and Brian and Kelsie came running in.

“We’re hungry. When’s lunch?” “

“Can’t you see we’re busy doing something important?” Shannon said, shaking her head. “Besides, you’re always hungry.”

Grandmom stood up. “I think all of this can wait, honey; it’s like a bit of a puzzle actually. Sometimes when you have something that you can’t quite see you need to step away from it,” she said, head deep inside the refrigerator.

“How does walking away from it help? Carrie and I are trying to figure out our mission. I don’t want to eat lunch, I want to try to understand this now.” Shannon leaned over the table with her chin in her hands.

“All the best detectives know you have to let it sit and simmer,” said Grandmom, spreading bread out on the counter as if she were dealing cards. “You need to understand how your brain works. You feed it with fuel by eating and drinking. Then you just go about your business while it keeps working out your problems. See?” she said, handing Shannon and Brian their lunch. “We’re all unique and each of our brains works differently. That’s why it’s nice to have others help when you are trying to figure things out. Milk or iced tea?”

“Milk,” Brian said.

“Iced tea,” countered Shannon.

“See my point? We are all one of a kind.”

“So you’re saying that by walking away from the notes, I’m really still working it out and I just don’t know it?”

“Exactly, you hit the nail on the head,” Grandmom said as she sat down looking across to Brian. “Where’s your helmet?”

“It’s a turtle bed today,” he said.

“Yes, well, I should have known you two would take to each other,” Grandmom laughed.

“I think he’s a boy about my age,” Brian explained. Shannon and Grandmom exchanged looks and burst into laughter. They finished their lunch, changed into their swimsuits, and headed out to the pool.

“So, I hear you’re going to a barbecue tonight,” Grandmom said.

“Yeah, Lori’s parents invited us and I’m hoping she’ll be okay. She and I hardly talk anymore.”

“Why don’t you show her your clues tonight? Maybe it will help cheer her up. Sometimes when people get busy helping others they forget about their own troubles. That is, if you think she would be open to this sort of thing.”

“Well, I guess I could try. After all, she really does love horses. And you saw how beautiful her sewing is; I think she made about five quilts so far!” Shannon exclaimed.

“I know. I still can’t get over how this has spread like wildfire. Just think about it—all those women quilting in Nevada helping out the little children we told them about,” Grandmom said with pride. Suddenly, she sat up fully alert. She picked up the fluttering pages that were held down with a large rock on the patio table and examined them more closely.

“What is it?” Shannon asked. “Did you think of something?”

“The quilting ladies—didn’t you say that all of those boxes of fabric went to them?”

“Yes, why?”

“It’s a clue and I think it’s important. I’m certain of it.”

“How can you be sure?” Shannon said as she added the notation.

“Let’s just say I have a feeling. I can’t explain it. I just
know
it.”

“Oh, Grandmom,” laughed Shannon, “you’re starting to sound just like one of us!”

Chapter 72

Devon opened one eye and peeked around the room. The curtains blew softly in the cool air from the humming air conditioner. He opened both eyes and propped himself up on his elbow to survey the entire room. So far so good, he thought. He climbed out of bed and quickly opened a closet door expecting something to jump out at him. Just clothes and a few empty hangers looked back at him as he slowly shut the door.

He was surprised to hear the shower running. Milla had beaten him to it so he decided to go make breakfast. He stuck his head into her room as he passed by. An unfinished painting was propped up on her desk, along with some brushes and a tin of watercolors. A few stuffed animals were seated on shelves next to her favorite books. He opened her closet door. A pile of clothing fell out along with a board game. He stared at the scattered pieces on the floor. Yep, he thought, all normal.

Today was the day he and Milla were going to the rodeo. He wasn’t too keen on going but decided it would be a good way to forget about the mysterious events that had been nagging him. Things don’t just appear out of thin air, he thought. It makes no sense.

Carrie was excited about going to the rodeo. She had heard all about the lasso competition and the bronco riding from the other kids at camp. It seemed like everyone she knew was going to be there. Her teachers, Milla and her father, and she’d even heard some of the B&B staff making plans to attend. Brenda came out of her room wearing a red-checkered shirt and a cowboy hat.

“Oh, geez, Mom, you look ridiculous. You
can’t
go like that,” Carrie frowned.

“I do not, and I
am
going like this. Hey, it’s a rodeo. Everyone will be wearing a hat like mine.”

“You don’t even know how to ride a horse,” Carrie said, trying to pull the hat off her mother’s head

“Hey, back off, let go, let go. This is my hat and I’m wearing it. If nothing else, it will keep the sun out of my eyes,” she said, dusting it off and putting it back on.

ng to pull the hat off her mother’s head

“Hey, back off, let go, let go. This is my hat and I’m wearing it. If nothing else, it will keep the sun out of my eyes,” she said, dusting it off and putting it back on.

Sue Preston listened to the radio with her grandchildren as they waited in the long line of cars that were creeping toward the fairgrounds entrance. “Don’t forget to stop by and visit the nice folks from the Hidden Valley Equine Rescue Center,” the radio announcer said. “Some of the cutest foals from the Calico range will hopefully be finding a new home today and you can meet them before they go.”

“Oh, I hope we see Mouse,” Tracey said. “He’s my favorite.”