If Wishes Were Horses (27 page)

T
HE FOLLOWING DAY
was Saturday, and Gabby and Trevor were again visiting the ranch. Without being told, Wyatt had a good idea about where he might find Trevor. Leaving Gabby behind at the big house, he sauntered down to the main barn and strode the corridor until he reached Doc's stall. Sure enough, Trevor was there, painstakingly brushing down the fast-growing colt.

Rather than announce his presence, Wyatt stood there for a time quietly watching. Like a true horseman, Trevor spoke softly to the colt as he tended to him. Wyatt rested his forearms on top of the stall door, thinking about how far the boy had come.

“You're going to spoil that colt,” he finally said. “But that's okay. I know how you feel about him.”

Trevor stopped what he was doing and turned around. After thinking for a moment, he said, “Maybe that's a good thing, seeing as how Ram killed his mother.”

“Interesting answer,” Wyatt replied.

Trevor left Doc and walked nearer. “Do you want something?” he asked.

“Only a little of your time,” Wyatt answered. “Please come with me.”

Trevor left the stall and the two of them walked the length of the barn. Soon they reached the far entrance. Unwittingly, Wyatt beckoned Trevor toward the same weathered Adirondack chair where Ram had explained about never wrestling in the mud with a pig.

Wyatt took the chair beside Trevor's. For a time they didn't speak, each one content to absorb the pleasant atmosphere of the huge old barn.

“My mom asked you to talk to me, didn't she?” Trevor finally asked.

Wyatt nodded. “She knows,” he answered.

“So this is about Ram.”

“It's about
you
and Ram,” Wyatt answered. “If you still want to be mad at Ram after our talk, then I guess that's that. But there's something your mother and I want you to do.”

“What is it?”

“We're hoping that you will forgive him,” Wyatt said.

Before answering, Trevor looked across the way toward the big house.

“Why should I?” he asked. “He killed Sadie. He didn't mean to, I guess, but she's just as dead and she's never coming back. But what really makes me mad is that he jumped her on purpose. He wasn't having one of his ‘spells' or whatever you call them. He did
it because he just plain wanted to, and he thought that he could get away with it.”

“Maybe,” Wyatt said. “But before you pass final judgment on him, there are some things that you need to understand.”

“Like what?”

“For one thing, Ram rules the roost around here. You know what he always says: ‘My ranch, my rules.'”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well, he isn't one to ask permission,” Wyatt said. “And he shouldn't have to. But that doesn't mean that he's always right. Nobody is.”

“So what are you saying?” Trevor asked.

“I'm saying that despite his Alzheimer's, he can still be as impetuous as ever—maybe even more so. In fact, if I were asked to sum up my father's personality in just three words, do you know what they would be?”

Intrigued, Trevor turned and looked into Wyatt's eyes. “N… . ,” he answered.

Wyatt smiled. “Ready…Shoot…Aim.”

Trevor couldn't help but smile a little. “You got that one right,” he said.

“And there's something else,” Wyatt said. “Ram is seventy-seven years old, and as best I know, he's had this willful streak all his life. If you're expecting him to change, don't hold your breath. Trust me—hell will freeze over first. But there's another reason you should forgive him, Trevor.”

Trevor gave Wyatt a quizzical look. “What is it?” he asked.

“Despite what Ram told you that day about ‘being in his right
mind,' we will never be sure of it. Given his condition, who's to say what his ‘right mind' ever is?”

A look of genuine concern crossed Trevor's face. “What are you talking about?”

“Sooner or later, my father will lose his mind completely. There's nothing anyone can do about that. One day he won't know who we are. Or even who
he
is, for that matter. He won't recognize the ranch, or be able to take care of himself. And perhaps worst of all, whatever we say to him will be meaningless. For him, our words will be like dust on the wind.”

Wyatt paused for a moment, gazing out across the lush grounds. When he again looked at Trevor, his face was tinged with sorrow.

“If you don't sort out your differences with him soon, you may lose the chance forever,” Wyatt said quietly. “Trust me on this, Trevor, because I know. That's why I always try to treat him with kindness and respect. I can never know when his mind might finally vanish for good, and I don't want our last meaningful exchange to be one of anger.”

Trevor looked genuinely affected. “I never thought about it that way,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Wyatt answered. “So let me say just one more thing, and then I'll leave you alone. If you can't do as your mother and I ask, then so be it. But if there's the slightest bit of forgiveness in your heart, then you must tell him. The last thing in the world that you want is to finally do so, only to realize that it is too late. As a matter of fact, it was Ram himself who taught me that, and not so long ago.”

Saying nothing more, Wyatt stood and walked back toward the house.

R
AM NODDED WHILE
adding up the marks he had made in his secret calendar. Last month's final tally was heartening, with only two bouts of forgetfulness. His new medication was helping, even though taking it still rankled with his ornery sense of independence.

It was Sunday morning and breakfast was finished. Wyatt had skipped eating so as to drive into Boca early to fetch Gabby and Trevor. True to form, Ram had retreated to his private office with a fresh cup of Lou's coffee and his crisply ironed newspaper. As was also his custom, he had closed the mahogany plantation shutters to ensure his privacy.

Fall was here at last. It was a wonderful time of year at the ranch, and Ram always looked forward to it. Cooler weather would soon prevail, and the holidays were just around the corner.
From out of nowhere, a memory tugged at his mind. He again consulted his secret calendar to be sure. Yes, there it was. Next Sunday would be Wyatt's forty-first birthday, and the sixth anniversary of Danny and Krista's tragic deaths.

On closing the calendar, Ram turned and opened the shutters. As he gazed out across the perfect lawns and toward the old graveyard that stood near the main barn, his thoughts turned to Gabby and Wyatt.

They seemed very happy, and Ram was immensely grateful to the fates for bringing them together. They suited each other well, he thought. Ram had liked Gabby from the moment he met her, that tension-filled first day of New Beginnings. He also clearly remembered how hesitant and worried Gabby had first been, but no more. And despite his strained relationship with Trevor, the program had been especially good for the boy in helping him to overcome his difficult past. But most important for Ram, Wyatt seemed positively transformed.

Ram smiled. Phoebe would have been glad for these things, too, he realized. From his office he could not clearly distinguish her gravestone among the others, but that didn't matter. If our departed loved ones truly did look down on us from the afterlife, Phoebe would surely be smiling.

A knock came on the door, causing Ram to turn in his chair. “Who is it?” he called out.

“Trevor.”

“Come on in.”

Trevor opened the office door and stepped into the room for the first time. After looking around, he closed the door then
walked nearer. As usual when visiting the ranch, he was dressed in his Western-style clothes. Just as Ram had taught him that first day of New Beginnings, he respectfully held his Stetson in his hands.

Ram did his best to smile. “Wyatt got you here fast,” he said.

“Yeah,” Trevor answered. “He came out early. He's always in a hurry to see my mom. Is my coming to your office okay? Wyatt said that I could.”

“Sure,” Ram said.

Ram sensed that Trevor had something important to say, and that he was having trouble finding the words. He motioned for the young man to sit in one of the upholstered guest chairs. Trevor sat down and respectfully set his hat on the desk.

“Is something on your mind?” Ram asked.

Trevor nodded. “It's about Sadie. We never really talked about it. If it's okay, I'd like to tell you something.”

“Go ahead, son,” Ram said quietly.

Trevor looked down at his hands then back into Ram's eyes. “I'm sorry that I shouted at you that night. I was just so mad…It's too bad that we lost Sadie that way. But I wanted you to know that I'm not angry with you anymore. Maybe it was just fate, I don't know. But I'm sure of one thing.”

“And what is that?” Ram asked.

“If it was her time to die, then I'm glad she was with you when it happened,” Trevor said. “I was the one who put her out of her misery, but she knew that you were there. That's what mattered most.”

Ram swallowed hard. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“There's something else,” Trevor said.

“Yes?” Ram asked.

“Despite what happened, I want to thank you for that day,” Trevor said. “I'll never forget riding like that. It was the best thing I've ever done.”

For the first time in weeks, Trevor smiled at Ram. “Anytime that you want to go again, just let me know,” the young man added. “Without the jumping part, that is. After all, somebody's got to watch you. Might as well be me.”

Ram stood from his chair. “Come here,” he said.

Trevor walked behind the desk. To his surprise, Ram put his arms around him and held him close.

“I want to tell you something, too,” Ram said. As he let Trevor go, he blinked back a tear.

“What is it?” Trevor asked.

“I want to apologize again for jumping Sadie like that,” Ram said. “What happened was my fault, and I will carry it with me all the rest of my days. Nothing can be done about that. But hearing that you don't hold it against me means more than you could ever know.”

Trevor pursed his lips. “I love you, old man,” he said quietly. “Thank you for always being there for me.”

“I love you, too,” Ram answered. “Now go and do something more useful than talking to an old buzzard like me! Doc's stall must need mucking out, or something. If you want to eat Lou's dinner tonight, you'll have to earn it. That's Flying B rule number twelve.”

Trevor raised an eyebrow. “You just made that one up, didn't you?”

“Yep,” Ram answered.

“I know,” Trevor said. “Your ranch, your rules.”

Ram fished around in one pocket of his Levi's and removed the pearl-handled pocketknife. Then he winked knowingly at Trevor.

“I don't rightly remember how that knife got into my pocket, but I think it belongs to you,” Ram said. He held it out, and the boy took it.

“Thank you,” Trevor answered quietly. He picked up his Stetson and headed for the door.

“Wait a minute,” Ram said.

When Trevor turned around, he saw a smile spread across the old man's face.

“Even
my
rules were meant to be broken sometimes,” Ram said. “Just this once, you can wear your hat inside the house.”

Trevor beamed back at Ram. After placing the Stetson on his head, he smiled and flicked its brim with his middle finger like he had been doing it all his life. He then quietly closed the door behind him.

After reclaiming his chair, Ram again looked out toward the family grave sites. Then his thoughts returned to Phoebe, and another smile crossed his lips.

Things are finally right again, my love.

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING,
Reverend Jacobson again sat waiting before the great stained-glass wall of St. Andrew's sanctuary. Gabby and Trevor were seated in their usual places, waiting for Wyatt to arrive. To Jacobson's delight, the church was full.

Today's service was proceeding well. The first hymn, the collect of the day, and the first selected Bible reading were finished. As Jacobson watched, one of the church acolytes walked to the pulpit and started reading Luke 18:1–8, the Bible passage that would precede his sermon.

The acolyte soon finished reading the selected Bible verse, and it became time for the sermon. Jacobson dutifully stood and walked to the pulpit. After adjusting the microphone to his liking, he looked out over his congregation.

“One day at a Catholic elementary school, a well-meaning nun hung a sign in the lunch line directly above the apples,” Jacobson began in his ragged voice. “As one of the school's more adventurous students approached the sign, he read: take only one apple! god is watching! The young man did as ordered, taking only one apple. A little way down the line, he and his friends soon spied the cookies.

“As fast as he could, the young man began piling his tray high with cookies,” Jacobson continued. “While he did, a friend standing beside him became worried. ‘What if you get caught?' his friend asked. With a smile on his face, the first young man answered: ‘Don't worry! Take all the cookies you want! Today God's watching the apples!'”

While the congregation laughed, Jacobson noted that Wyatt still hadn't arrived. Since Danny's and Krista's deaths, Wyatt hadn't missed a single service. Although Jacobson found Wyatt's absence unusual, he could delay his sermon no longer.

 

WHILE SHE WAITED, GABBY
became increasingly anxious. Before leaving the ranch last night, she and Wyatt had agreed to meet at the church. At first she hoped that Wyatt was simply running late, but that wasn't like him.
Where is he?
she wondered.
He promised he would be here…this day has so much meaning for the three of us…

Moments later, she excused herself to the ladies' room and tried to reach Wyatt by cell phone. He didn't answer, causing her to wonder all the more. When she returned to her pew, she began
worrying that Wyatt had lost the fortitude needed to take the blessings.

Of far worse consequence, perhaps his feelings about her had changed. The mere thought of losing him—especially after they had gone through so much to be together—would be more than her heart could bear. Had her happy time with Wyatt been a mere interlude? Perhaps her fairy tale was about to end after all…

Tears came, and Gabby brushed them away. Trevor pursed his lips and took her hands in his. Cupped in her son's warm palms, Gabby's hands suddenly felt wet and cold, like those of some lifeless marble statue that had been left standing out in the rain.

His sermon finished, Jacobson left the pulpit to go and stand before the glistening white altar. It was time for the confession and absolution. Jacobson raised his hands and closed his eyes.

“Most merciful God,” everyone recited, “we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. We are truly sorry, and we humbly repent. For the sake of your Son, Jesus Christ, have mercy on us and forgive us, that we might delight in your will, and walk in your ways to the glory of your name. Amen.”

Jacobson again scanned the congregation. In the same way that Wyatt's silences could be deafening, his mysterious absence was equally imposing. But Jacobson knew that he must now perform the blessings of birthdays and anniversaries, with or without Wyatt. He again raised his hands.

“Would those wishing to have a birthday, anniversary, or other special day blessed please come forward?” he asked.

As about two dozen parishioners stood from their pews and started approaching, Jacobson again gazed toward Gabby and Trevor.

 

TREVOR LOOKED WORRIEDLY
at his mother. “What should we do?” he whispered.

Gabby took a deep breath. “We will take the blessings, just like we planned,” she said.

“What about Wyatt?” Trevor asked.

Gabby shook her head as she brushed away another tear. “I don't know. Either he couldn't come, or he has chosen not to come. Whatever happened, we will do this.”

Gabby and Trevor rose from their pew and started up the aisle. When they reached the altar, they knelt in the growing line of parishioners. After all those wishing to come forward had done so, they bowed their heads. But just as Jacobson was about to start the ritual, a disturbance among the congregation caused Gabby and some of the other worshippers to turn around.

Two men had entered the church. They were walking up the center aisle and approaching the altar. The men's cheeks were flushed; their eyes were red and glistening with tears. They walked tiredly but with purpose, as if they had just suffered some great ordeal. As they neared, they searched out Gabby and looked straight into her eyes.

The two men were Ram and Morgan Blaine.

Gabby's heart skipped a beat as she realized that neither Ram nor Morgan was appropriately dressed. Ram was wearing rumpled ranch clothes; Morgan wore a simple polo shirt and
jeans. Each of the men looked exhausted, and their faces were unshaven.

Gabby held her breath as Ram and Morgan approached the altar. Jacobson also looked at them with surprise. While the entire congregation watched, Ram whispered a few words into Jacobson's ear. His face an unreadable mask, Jacobson only nodded before laying a comforting hand atop Ram's shoulder. Ram and Morgan finally went to the end of the line of parishioners, where they silently kneeled and bowed their heads.

Frantic to know what was happening, Gabby nearly broke ranks to confront Ram. But the scene soon calmed, and Jacobson again raised his hands. Fearing the worst, Gabby simply couldn't hold back her tears any longer and cried silently.

Starting with Ram, Reverend Jacobson began the blessings by placing one hand on Ram's bowed head and reciting the necessary words. Then it was Morgan's turn, followed by the next parishioner in line. While Jacobson blessed one parishioner after another, Gabby trembled.

“Excuse me, miss,” someone whispered to her. “Is this spot taken?”

Her eyes filled with tears, Gabby turned to see Wyatt standing behind her.

Gabby nearly cried out with joy. Wyatt looked as spent as Ram and Morgan; his eyes were also red. Beside herself with relief, Gabby nudged Trevor to one side, allowing Wyatt to kneel beside her. Gabby took Wyatt's hand and held it tightly, like she would never let go.

“What…is going on?” she whispered.

Wyatt gave her a comforting look as he wiped away some of her tears.

“I'm sorry if we scared you,” he whispered. “Ram decided to tell Morgan about our mother's lost child, and we ended up talking all night. At the last moment, Ram and Morg decided to come and take the blessings with me. Because we were running late, they insisted on marching in ahead of me while I parked the car. Don't worry, my love. For the first time in many years, all is as it should be.”

At long last, Gabby smiled. “Everyone in this church must be watching us,” she whispered.

“Good,” Wyatt answered with a smile of his own. “It's my birthday.”

Jacobson soon approached Wyatt and Gabby, and the kneeling couple lowered their heads. Instead of blessing them individually, the reverend extended his hands and blessed them simultaneously, as a couple. While Wyatt's hand lay ensconced in hers, Gabby felt the reverend's gentle touch grace her head.

As the words of blessing washed down over her, she could scarcely contain her joy.