If Wishes Were Horses (26 page)

Trevor did so.

“Swing the lever forward, toward the barrel end of the gun and then back again. That will cock the gun. After that, keep your fingers well away from the trigger.”

Again, Trevor did as he was told. The lever was harder to work than he expected, but moved smoothly.

“Without touching the trigger, place the rifle butt against your shoulder,” Ram said.

Trevor felt the unforgiving end of the gun stock bite into his shoulder.
What am I doing?
his mind shouted.
Can this really be happening?

“Now gently curve your right index finger around the front of the trigger, but don't squeeze it yet,” Ram said. The old man was so pain stricken that he was about to pass out.
Just a little longer, girl,
Ram thought.
Just a little longer, and your pain will be gone.
“Now look down the barrel and aim it at Sadie's head.”

Trevor did as Ram said. His entire body was shaking.

“Pull the trigger,” Ram said.

Trevor seemed to collapse a little, but he righted himself.

“Do it!” Ram said with what strength he had left.

The rifle bucked so hard in Trevor's inexperienced hands that the recoil nearly knocked him to the ground. When the smoke cleared, Sadie lay dead.

Trevor threw the gun away then fell to his knees before the beloved horse. He cried and shook uncontrollably. When next he heard Ram's voice, he didn't know how much time had passed. Sweating profusely, he pulled off his red Windbreaker and angrily threw it to the ground.

“Come here, son,” he heard Ram say. The old man's voice sounded wispy and faint, like it had been carried over the grassland winds from a million miles away. Trevor walked numbly toward him.

“Now take off your belt,” Ram said.

“Wha—what?”

“Take off your belt.”

Trevor did as he was told. It was his father's old belt, the one he used to carry his schoolbooks.

“Loop the buckle end around your wrist,” Ram said weakly, “then tie the other end around mine.”

Again, Trevor obeyed. He could now guess what was coming, and he searched for more inner strength.

“Now stand back and use the belt to slowly raise my bad arm,” Ram said.

As Ram's arm lifted, the old man screamed. Trevor felt sick again, but he held it in.

“When I tell you…pull hard and sharp,” Ram gasped. “I've…done this before. But you gotta get it right the first time. There isn't another try in me…”

Trevor steadied himself.

“Are you…ready?” Ram asked.

Any moment now Ram would keel over, and Trevor knew it. He nodded.

“Then do it, boy.”

As Trevor yanked hard on the belt, he heard the sickening thump of Ram's shoulder sliding back into place. Ram screamed and fell to his knees. After a time his color returned somewhat, and he stood again. Trevor removed the belt from Ram's wrist.

“Can you ride?” Trevor asked.

Ram nodded. “If you can get me onto Gypsy, yes.”

Trevor tossed the leather belt to the ground alongside his Windbreaker. He then helped Ram hobble over to where Gypsy stood waiting. Between the two of them they were able to get Ram on the horse. Trevor used the stirrup to climb up and sit behind Ram on Gypsy's haunches. He took the reins into his hands, holding them before the injured old man.

“If I go unconscious,” Ram whispered, “lay me facedown across the saddle and give Gypsy her head. She knows the way home better than you.”

Trevor nodded. After thinking for a moment, he wheeled Gypsy around to face Sadie.

“Good-bye, girl,” he said softly, his tears coming again. “I'll take good care of Doc for you…I promise.”

Trevor turned Gypsy around, and the horse began taking them home. Gypsy had taken only a few steps when Ram lifted his head.

“You forgot…your belt and Windbreaker,” he said weakly.

Trevor pulled Gypsy to a stop then turned and looked behind him. After a few moments, he got the horse moving again.

“No, I didn't,” he said.

A
NOTHER TWO WEEKS
soon passed, and although life at the Flying B had largely returned to normal, everyone knew that the pain of Sadie's absence would never be forgotten. But her bloodline and spirit would be carried on in Doc, and for that they were all grateful. It was a lovely Friday evening. Wyatt and Gabby were enjoying a quiet dinner out, happy to be spending some time alone.

After smiling at Gabby, Wyatt looked at their waiter. “I'll have a dry vodka Gibson,” he said. “Very cold, please.”

“And for you, madam?” the waiter asked.

“Chardonnay,” Gabby answered.

“And for dinner?”

“The lady will have the chicken Kiev,” Wyatt answered. “I'd like the lobster thermidor, and we'll each have a Caesar salad.”

“Very good, sir.”

After gathering up the two menus, the uniformed waiter went off to place the orders.

Gabby looked across the elegant table at Wyatt. “I'm so sorry about Sadie,” she said. “I still can't believe that she's gone.”

Wyatt nodded. “Sadie will be sorely missed,” he said. “Sadly, seeing horses die is part of running a ranch. After everything that has happened, I thought we could use a nice night out. Given how wonderful you look, this is the only restaurant in town that deserves you.”

Gabby savored the compliment happily. She also couldn't help but admire how handsome Wyatt looked tonight. He was wearing a dark blue suit, a white shirt with French cuffs, and a light blue tie. Gabby wore the ubiquitous “little black dress” that all stylish women seem to own, along with her faithful Akoya pearls.

Jack's was an elegant place, and Wyatt had often entertained law clients here. The restaurant was beautifully decorated all year round, especially at Christmastime. As the happy sounds of light music and pleasant conversation filled the sumptuous room, Gabby smiled. Despite the tragedy with Sadie, never in her life had she been so happy.

Sadie's death had been the only dark spot during this otherwise halcyon time. On Ram and Trevor's return home, Big John had forcibly loaded Ram into his car and driven him straight to the hospital. Gabby and Wyatt had done their best to console Trevor while they waited for them to return, but they were unsuccessful.

For Trevor, the shock of losing Sadie was insurmountable. He'd sworn that he would never forgive Ram for his foolishness,
and he meant it. Gabby and Wyatt had hoped that Trevor's anger would run its course, and that he might forgive Ram without being asked. But so far he remained furious, and Ram was hurt by it.

An X-ray of Ram's injured shoulder showed that nothing was broken. But because of Ram's advanced age, the attending doctor gave him a full examination before sending him home. Ram's arm was placed in a sling, and the doctor said that it should remain that way for the next two weeks. There was nothing else for it at Ram's age, the doctor said, but to rest the arm. True to form, Ram preferred his own brand of recovery. After swearing Big John to silence, he used his good arm to remove the sling and then promptly tossed it out the car window on the way home. Because it had grown so late, Gabby and Trevor slept over in guest rooms at the ranch.

The following day, Wyatt took four ranch hands out to where Sadie lay. After retrieving the rifle and tack they photographed the scene for insurance purposes, then buried the dead horse. Wyatt later called Morgan to tell him the sad news and to say that Morgan should file an insurance claim, even though they both guessed that it would be rejected.

Like Trevor, Wyatt had been absolutely enraged with Ram. Losing Sadie was terrible, but that wasn't what bothered him most. The thought of Ram jumping again sent chills down Wyatt's spine. Wyatt had no way to be sure of what Ram's state of mind had been when he jumped Sadie. But from what Trevor had told them, it seemed that the old man's obstinacy had purposely overruled his common sense, making the tragedy even more dis
turbing. When Wyatt visited the scene, he was amazed that Ram hadn't been killed.

By the time Ram and Big John returned from the hospital, Wyatt's mood had calmed. Ram's expression was so uncharacteristically contrite that Wyatt hadn't the heart to bawl him out. After apologizing to everyone, Ram gave his son a one-armed hug. Holding his father close, Wyatt sighed resignedly.

“There's no fool like an old fool,” Ram said, “and I'm living proof. Never again, son, I promise.”

“An old fool is right!” Trevor had shouted angrily. “What the Christ were you thinking, jumping her that way? Now she's gone, and she's never coming back! If anybody else had done this, you'd be mad as hell at them! But since it's you, I guess that we're all just supposed to forget it, right?”

Trevor fished around in his pockets and removed the pearl-handled knife that Ram had given him. He angrily pushed it at the old man.

“Here!” he shouted. “I don't want this anymore! It only reminds me of you!”

Gabby had quickly reprimanded Trevor, but it had no effect on him. Without protest, Ram slowly pocketed the knife. Feeling dejected and guilty, he took another of the pain pills prescribed by the emergency room doctor then went straight to bed. During the last two weeks his ornery nature had resurfaced, his arm had improved, and ranch life carried on. But the relationship between Ram and Trevor remained deeply strained, and it showed.

When their drinks arrived, Gabby and Wyatt sipped them appreciatively. All the tension that once existed between them was
gone, and had been replaced with a welcome sense of happiness they had believed might never grace their lives again. They saw each other whenever and wherever they could. They had become a pair of infatuated lovers, and like such lovers, they didn't care what anyone thought about them.

Two Caesar salads were prepared tableside. Wyatt ordered another martini for himself and another chardonnay for Gabby.

“Wyatt,” she said, “there are a couple of things I'd like to discuss.”

Before Gabby could continue, Wyatt laughed.

Gabby gave him a curious look. “What's so funny?” she asked.

“I'm just glad that you didn't say:
‘We need to talk,'
” he answered.

Gabby laughed in return. “I promise that I'll never lay that one on you!” she said.

“Good!” Wyatt replied. “So what was it that you wanted to say?”

“This coming Sunday is your birthday,” Gabby said. “It's an important day for all of us. Could we discuss it?”

Wyatt nodded and sat back in his chair. “I must admit that the same thing has been on my mind,” he said. “But I've been so happy that I didn't want to mention it. I guess I thought that it might break the spell or something.”

Gabby had hoped he would feel that way. Even so, she had taken Aunt Lou into her confidence again before asking Wyatt about it. She had been wise to do so, for Lou told her something she hadn't known.

Ever since the car crash, Wyatt had steadfastly refused to cel
ebrate his birthday. Instead, he had always gone to his lake house and spent the day alone. Gabby wisely decided that she wouldn't try to influence Wyatt to do otherwise. Besides, any kind of joyous celebration would be inappropriate for everyone concerned. But if Wyatt would agree to spend the day with her, she would gladly do whatever he wanted.

“Lou tells me that you always spend your birthdays by yourself,” Gabby said. “I understand that, Wyatt, I really do. And if that's what you still want, it's fine with me. But I was hoping that we could pass the day together.”

Then she smiled. “I haven't seen our eight-hundred-pound gorilla lurking around anymore,” she added. “But spending your birthday together might be a good idea, just in case.”

Wyatt thought for a moment then nodded. “You're right,” he said. “And we'll include Trevor.”

“Can we start the day with church?” Gabby asked. “I've missed it.”

“Sure,” he said. “Afterward we'll return to the scene of the crime, and eat brunch at Chez Paul.”

“Thank you, Wyatt,” Gabby said. “That sounds wonderful.”

Suddenly a concern occurred to her. She had gotten out of the habit of going to church, and was happy to be going back. But the coming Sunday was more than just Wyatt's birthday. Not only would it be the sixth anniversary of the car crash, it would also be the first time she and Wyatt had ever attended the services as a couple. After some thought she decided not to speak of her worry, for when the time came, it would be Wyatt's decision and no one else's.
But how will he react?
she wondered.

“What was the other thing you wanted to say?” Wyatt asked.

“What…?” Gabby asked, her mind still engrossed with her earlier concern.

“You said there were two things,” Wyatt answered.

“Oh, yes,” she answered. “It's about Trevor and Ram.”

Wyatt nodded. “I know,” he said. “It's bad. In a way, I can't blame Trevor for being furious. And because Ram feels so guilty, I don't think he knows how to go about remedying it. He's already apologized, but that doesn't seem to be enough for Trevor. They're a real pair, those two, and I'm not sure which one is more stubborn. Something about an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.”

“It's just that Trevor loved Sadie so much,” Gabby said. “He'll get over it eventually, I suppose, but it would be so much better if he could forgive Ram now, face-to-face.”

Wyatt gave Gabby a little smile. “You want me talk to Trevor, don't you?” he asked.

Gabby reached out and touched Wyatt's hand. “Would you?” she asked. “In this case, it would mean more coming from you than from me. You know Ram better than anyone, I think. And Trevor always respects what you have to say. It would mean a lot to me if you'd try.”

“Okay,” Wyatt answered. “I'll do my best.”

Soon their dinners arrived. The food was excellent, and while they ate, they talked happily. Coffee and dessert followed. As the night progressed, Gabby felt even more wonderful. Wyatt had granted both of her requests, and she was on top of the world. Then Wyatt's expression sobered a bit and he looked into her eyes.

“I have something for you,” he said.

“You do?” Gabby asked.

Wyatt reached into his suit jacket and removed a slim, rectangular box. He handed it to her.

She looked at him with surprise. “What is it?”

“After you've opened it, I'll explain.”

“But you've already done so much.”

Wyatt gave her another meaningful look. “Please, Gabby…”

Gabby opened the box. Inside was a black Montblanc fountain pen, trimmed with solid gold.

“I want you to have that,” Wyatt said.

Gabby looked at Wyatt's gift with welcome surprise. “It's lovely,” she said. “And I know how prized these are. I also know that they cost a small fortune. Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” Wyatt answered. “But there's more to say. That Montblanc belonged to Krista. I selected it from the fountain-pen collection in her study. You may remember them—they sit on her desk in a wooden-and-glass case. Ram got her hooked on them shortly after we were married. It was her favorite, and it's important to me that you accept it.”

Gabby's eyes started to well up. Wyatt's gesture had truly touched her heart. But this wasn't really about her needing a pen, she realized.

Rather, it was about where the pen had come from, and to whom it had once belonged. Gabby also realized that no matter what Wyatt had chosen to give her from that room, its symbolism would have meant just as much. If there had been any doubts lingering in her heart about Wyatt's break with his past, they were surely gone now.

“Thank you, my darling,” she said. “I'll treasure it always.”

As Wyatt looked at Gabby, her lips parted slightly, unconsciously. Suddenly, her next words came. She had been holding them in for a long time, and she could wait no longer. When they arrived, they came straight from her heart.

“I love you,” she said simply.

At long last, her most intimate feelings had been fully revealed to him. Now there were no more secrets, no more wondering. At first she couldn't believe she had said it, and she feared his reaction. Her eyes searched his tanned face.

“I love you, too,” he answered.

When he reached across the table and touched her hand, her heart sang.