Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (49 page)

“I hear Kris and Brandon are working as volunteers at the booth,” Mac added.

Devon and Milla waded through the swarm of people, trying to get to the spot where they were supposed to meet Carrie and Brenda. A group of kids from camp caught their attention and they stopped for moment. “Hi, Milla, are you going to help out at the booth today? I’m signed up for 2 o’clock,” Shelly said. Milla shook her head no.

“I hope we get to see Cookie,” April said. “We asked the teachers but they don’t know which foals will be here today. I love that little guy. I’d take him home today if I could!”

Devon looked around—the vendors were selling everything from saddles to umbrellas with images of bucking broncos on them. When he was young his parents had brought him to the rodeo every year and he marveled at how big the event had grown.

“Hey, there’s Carrie,” one of the children said. Devon caught sight of Brenda wearing a cowboy hat and laughed. When she got closer he asked, “You entering the calf-roping contest today?”

Brenda tipped her hat, “Nah. I think I’m more of a steer wrestler.” Hundreds of people were milling about wearing hats that looked much like hers in shades of every color; she fit right in.

Carrie rolled her eyes and quickly joined the group of kids.

“Where’s Sam?” Devon asked.

“She’s coming with her friend Ron. Believe it or not, she’s actually letting the B&B run itself today.”

“That’s great. She needs some fun once in a while. I was beginning to think she never left that place.”

“You should talk. When do you ever get out? All you do is work with horses all day and then sit and watch TV at night,” Brenda scoffed. Devon opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. What did this woman know about his life? She knew nothing about the stress of his job. Most people thought he only dealt with animals; little did they know that part of his job description was to respond to every BLM round-up story that found its way to his desk. If he wanted to come home and watch TV…well, that was his business. As much as he might wish otherwise, finding time to socialize was definitely not on the top of his list. Considering his workload, a person would literally have to fall out of the sky if he were going to meet them. He looked at her and shook his head. “I’m going to let that slide since you’re going through a divorce and all. What do you say we leave the personal stuff aside? Let’s go watch some cowboys fall in the mud.”

Brenda barely heard him as she was craning her neck looking for Sam. What a crowd, she thought. This is worse than a Jersey Shore boardwalk on Labor Day.

Sue and her grandchildren bumped into them as they were making their way to their seats. The announcer’s voice was booming as he announced that the bull riding competition was about to begin. Tracey, frightened by the menacing bull, clung to her grandmother after the rider was thrown. Mac laughed as the clown tripped over his big shoes. The crowd roared when the bull chased him into a barrel of water before finally trotting back to his pen.

Anne and Walt stopped to say hello to Jed and the volunteers working at the Rescue Center’s booth. Kris and several other students were handing out brochures. She listened to the children easily answering questions about the adoption process. The little pen containing a few foals was a hit. There was a steady crowd drawing in closer to view them. Having the children work the booth was a perfect idea; what better way to carry the message? Walt leaned and whispered into her ear, “This is exactly why we started the camp.” She nodded and they moved on to watch the rodeo.

Leah Small and her sister, Kim, sat together watching the Ladies’ Barrel Racing competition. The crowd roared when the rider, clinging to the back of a quarter horse, galloped toward the finish line. “So, I still can’t believe Sue Preston delivered that huge shipment of fabric,” Kim said. “She said it was from a private donor. And to have them already cut into neat trimmed squares? Talk about providence—it’s like someone watching knew exactly what we needed.”

Milla pulled on Devon’s sleeve. “I’m thirsty, Dad. Can we get a drink?”

“Sure but I want to stop by the BLM booth along the way and say hi.”

Carrie and Brenda decided it was a good time to stretch their legs. There were several long rows of shops set up inside the fairgrounds. They stopped to watch leather craftsmen, jewelry makers, and a woman demonstrating how to make a dream catcher. Brenda nudged her daughter, “You could make a few bucks if you promised they would catch a few of your calico dreams.”

Carrie didn’t bother responding to her mother’s corny comment; she was too busy watching the woman’s hands moving skillfully around her band of willow to create a net with beads and feathers. Rows of dream catchers were hanging on stands all around. Small cards attached by tiny colored strings were blowing in the breeze. Carrie read the description of the materials used and the explanation of the meaning behind the craft.

Brenda noticed Sam waving in the distance and nudged her daughter, “Come on—she found us!” Carrie moved away, wishing she could stay and watch the artist a little longer.

Milla leaned up against a rail sipping her drink as her father chatted with Casey and Brit at the BLM booth. She looked back through the crowds and groaned when she saw Foot and Danny stuffing their faces with hot dogs. She turned her back to them, hoping not to be noticed, and cringed when she heard Danny call out, “Hey, look—there’s your girlfriend, Milla!”

“Shut up, you jerk,” Foot said, punching Danny in the arm.

“Well, that’s what you said. You told me you thought she was cute,” Danny sneered, knocking Foot’s hat to the ground.

“I’m going to make you eat dirt,” Foot said, glancing toward Milla, who had suddenly disappeared. He stopped to look behind him and noticed the BLM sign. “Hey, look, Danny—it’s the horse killer booth!”

Devon and Casey turned to see who the heckler was and Foot’s smile disappeared when Devon started walking toward him. The young bully quickly picked up his hat and tripped and fell as he began running. Milla kept her distance, smiled, and then heard a woman with a funny accent introducing herself to the BLM staff at the booth.

“Hi. My name is Robin Hanlon. I called your office months ago and never got a call back, so here I am.” She handed her card to Brit.

“Oh, so sorry about that. Sometimes we get backed up,” she replied, reading the title aloud: “Nature Revealed Ecotourism.”

Devon tried sneaking away since this was his day off and he figured it was probably a nosey reporter looking for a story. He stopped when he heard his name. “Yes, I’m looking to set up an appointment with Devon Spencer while I’m in town. My family owns an ecotourism business and we’re thinking of adding your wild mustangs as a destination.”

He offered his hand to the woman. “I’m Devon Spencer. Is that a British accent?”

“Close. I was born in Australia and raised in England,” she smiled. “I’m here scouting out a location for our office and I was hoping to run into you today. And here you are.”

Carrie and Brenda arrived at the booth carrying a few odds and ends they had purchased. Brenda’s hat had a new feather stuck in it and she was wearing a red bandana.

“Today’s my day off and I’m here with my daughter,” he said, putting his arm around Milla’s shoulder. Robin smiled and shook the girl’s hand, then looked at Devon. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t actually expecting to chat with you today. I just popped into your booth to try to set up an appointment. Can I buy you dinner and pick your brain?” she asked.

“Well…” Devon was suddenly unable to think.

Brenda noticed the awkward moment. “Hi, I’m Brenda Anderson and this is my daughter, Carrie,” she said, tipping her hat. The feather fell to the ground and Robin stooped to retrieve it.

“Hello. It’s nice to meet such friendly faces. I’ve been holed up in front of my computer at the hotel and am finally getting out to explore this lovely land.”

“Where are you from?” Carrie asked.

“I travel to so many places that I currently don’t have a proper home anywhere, but I was born in Australia and my family lives in a little town called Bibury in the southern part of England.”

“You just fly from place to place?” Milla asked.

“Pretty much.”

“Cool,” said Carrie.

Robin looked back at Devon, who seemed lost in his thoughts. “So, what do you say—can I buy you dinner? I figured it would be easier to talk without you being interrupted at work. My father has been researching this place and thinks it’s top notch. I’m thinking if our company wants to learn about the wild mustangs, what better place to start?”

“I’m not sure how the BLM can help you with ecotourism. You might make out better talking to some Chamber of Commerce people over in Reno.”

“Oh, for goodness sakes,” Brenda interrupted. “Will you let the woman buy you dinner? Honestly, Devon, she flew all the way from God knows where and she’s just looking for a little help.” She took off her hat and wiped her brow.

“Yeah, Dad,” Milla added. “You know all kinds of stuff about the mustangs. I bet you know way more than lots of people.”

Devon looked around. “What is this—a group decision now? Yeah, okay. Uh, sure. I’ll be happy to discuss wild horses with you.”

Robin laughed and gave the group a thumbs up. “Great. Here’s my card. I’m in town until next Saturday. Devon tucked it into his pocket, and said goodbye. Robin said thanks and drifted away into the crowd.

“What’s ecotourism anyway?” Brenda asked.

“Funny how you waited for her to walk away before asking,” Devon laughed. “It’s a type of tourism directed at conservation and wildlife.”

Brenda shrugged. “Well, I didn’t want to appear stupid. I like her; she’s pretty gutsy.”

“Yeah, more women who speak their minds, that’s exactly what this world needs,” he said, pointing to the girls who were deep in conversation.

“Yeah, so he yelled it out real loud. I couldn’t believe it,” Milla said.

“He’s an idiot,” Carrie answered. “Don’t even give it a second thought.”

“You should have seen him fly when my dad started after him. I never saw a big kid run so fast, and he tripped and hit the ground, scrambling in the dirt for his hat. I wish you were here to see it, Carrie. It was hilarious.”

“Hey, have you been to see the foals yet?” Carrie asked.

“No, you want to go?” Milla looked among the rows of tents. “Where do you think they are?” Carrie pulled out the rodeo program map.

“C’mon. It’s almost time for the calf-roping contest,” Devon hollered, pointing toward the arena.

“We want to go see the foals, Dad,” Milla said.

Brenda looked at Devon and said, “Why don’t you go watch the competition while I take them?”

“Thanks, I think I will.” He turned to Milla, “I’m going back to my seat. Don’t stay too long. I came here to be with
you
, not a crowd of strangers.”

The girls took off and Brenda hurried to stay close. She finally caught her breath as Milla and Carrie elbowed their way to the front of the crowd gathered before the foals. Cookie, Mouse, and Ember were huddled together in a back corner.

“Aw, they look so scared,” Carrie said. Brenda leaned against a rail reading a flyer one of the children handed her. It was about Wild Horse Annie. Here you are again, she thought, I’ve read all about how you and children everywhere helped establish the first laws to protect the wild mustangs. This flyer urged children to follow Annie’s example by writing to Congress. She tucked it into her purse and smiled.

“Hey, Kris,” Carrie said, walking over to the booth.

“How’s it going?” Milla asked.

“Great. We had a lot of kids who joined our group today and we’re almost out of pamphlets.”

“Wow, that’s pretty sweet,” Carrie said, waving to Jed.

“So I see the foals are a hit. Anyone adopt them yet?” Milla asked.

“Yeah,” said Brandon. “Cookie and Ember are both leaving. They had all their paperwork approved so they’ll be going home with their new owners today.”

“Wow! I’m glad they found homes,” Carrie sighed.

“We have a few people interested in Mouse, too. Plus Jed’s been showing a photo album of all the other available foals.”

Milla looked through the album for any signs of the palomino. There were photos of the Equine Center and some of the students feeding foals with a bottle. She smiled when she saw one of herself holding Hope in her lap.

“You able to watch the booth for a shift?” Kris asked.

Brenda glanced at her watch. “Um…no. Sorry, kids. We have to get back.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for stopping by. See you guys at camp.”

“Later,” Carrie replied.

“Call me when you have the next meeting,” Milla said, glancing one more time at the foals.

Carrie turned to Brenda. “Mom, I need to show Milla the dream catchers.”

“Okay, but let’s make it quick. I promised Devon we wouldn’t be long.”

Devon and Sue watched the calf-roping competition as Mac and Tracey whooped and hollered. The announcer’s voice boomed over the arena: “Coming Up—The BLM National Wild Horse and Burro Presentation. If you’re interested in adopting any of these fine horses, remember to pick up your applications at Booth number 283.”