Lonestar Sanctuary (3 page)

Yolanda's forehead wrinkled. "Some place that will make her talk?
What kind of place would that be?"

Allie wagged her finger at her friend. "Don't try to find out any
more.

"What if Betsy's grandparents show up? What should I tell them?"

"The truth. That you don't know where I am. If they can't find me,
they can't serve me with custody papers." She picked up her suitcase
and dragged it toward the door. "I packed too much," she panted.

"Let me help." Yolanda sprang toward her.

"Just get the door."

Yolanda opened the door, and Allie dragged the bulky luggage out
onto the dirt. She opened the tailgate of her old pickup and heaved it
into the back with the ragtag assortment of rope, bridles, empty Pepsi
cans, and old blankets.

"What if the police have questions?" Yolanda followed Allie toward the paddock. "And all your friends from church will want to know
you're okay. Girl, it scares me to think about you being off on your
own with no support."

"I'll call and check in occasionally. I can't let that guy find me and
Betsy." Allie stepped to where Betsy stood at the fence. She scooped
up her daughter and inhaled the scents of red licorice and little girl.

Betsy was all she had left of Jon. Allie would give her every possible reason to talk again. "Ready to go, Bets?"

Betsy shook her head so hard her ponytails flipped against her
cheeks. She set her chin, and her lips quivered. Even the threat of leaving everything she knew and loved didn't break the wall of silence that
had encased her for a year.

Allie set her on the ground and took her hand. "We'll come back
for a visit. Come along, honey." Betsy's feet scuffed along the dirt, but
she followed her mother to the truck.

"Call me, girl." Yolanda grabbed Allie in a tight hug.

Allie clasped Yo back, closing her eyes and imprinting the musky
scent her friend wore in her memory. It would be all she'd have to
hold her until they met again.

She was going into hostile territory.

"I'll call when I get there." Allie's eyes burned, and she knew she
had to get out of there. Tears would upset Betsy. She got in the truck
and buckled her seat belt, just a lap belt, the thing was so old. "Fasten
up, Bets."

As the truck pulled away from the stockyard, Allie forced herself
not to look in the rearview mirror and watch her ten-year dream dissolve in the distance.

BLUEBONNETS. THOUSANDS OF THEM. THE CARPET OF BLUE UNDULATED
over the hills, melding into the distant haze of the mountains. Those
peaks had been growing ever since she left the Del Norte Mountains
behind and pressed closer to the Rio Grande.

Allie rubbed her tired eyes. Even Eddy Arnold belting out "Gonna
Find Me a Bluebird" failed to energize her. Six hours on the road with
the dust blowing in through the open windows had left her eyes dry
and gritty.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. No other vehicles meant no
pursuit. They had time to enjoy this, make a memory. She lifted her
foot from the accelerator. "Look, Betsy, let's get your picture taken in
the bluebonnets!"

Dark curls tied up in red holders hid Betsy's face from view. She
plucked at the frayed edges of a hole in her jeans and didn't answer.

Allie would not allow despair to take hold. She would root it out,
trample it underfoot, burn it to ash. Her daughter would talk again,
laugh again, find joy again.

She forced a bit of cheerfulness into her voice. "I'll stop here and
get your picture."

Something clanked in the old Ford's underbelly when she parked
it at the side of the road. "Come on, sweetie," she coaxed. She hung
the camera around her neck and turned to her daughter. "I'll show you
the picture of me in the bluebonnets. I think I was about five at the
time too."

She remembered the day so clearly. Her mother's smile, her scent.
Allie's hands gripped the wheel in a spasm of agony. Nearly a year
after her parents' deaths, the pain still threatened to swamp her. She
shook off the memory and got out of the truck.

The sweet aroma of the thousands of flowers wafted around her. The
wildflowers tossed their blue heads in the breeze and lifted their faces
to the fading sunlight. How could Betsy not be moved by this place?

These hills felt like a sanctuary, a place of healing for them both.

Allie went around to the passenger door. The latch was always a bit
tricky on this side, but she managed to wrench it open. Betsy's wide
eyes were as blue as the wildflowers carpeting the landscape. Allie
could see Jon in those eyes.

She lived for the day when those blue depths didn't hold fear. "It's
okay," she said. "There's no one here."

Betsy hiked one leg out the door and looked around before she
stood and put her small hand in Allie's. Allie led her into the bluebonnets and sat her down. The flowers almost looked like hyacinths, and the fragrance was divine, the sweetness intoxicating. The flowers
stood tall on bright green stalks and came up to Betsy's chest, where
they contrasted with her yellow shirt. Dusk was only a few minutes
away, and the lighting was perfect.

"Just a minute."Allie turned on her digital camera, a gift from her
parents, and snapped several shots of Betsy sitting stone-faced in the
flowers. "Smile, Betsy," she called. But of course her daughter's lips
stayed straight and sober.

Allie would give anything to hear the little girl giggle again.

"Let's go, sweetie."

Betsy jumped to her feet and ran to the truck. She slammed the
door shut, then got out her coloring book and crayons.

Allie inhaled the fragrance one last time and slid under the steering wheel. She twisted the key. The engine did nothing but grind.
"Come on, come on," she muttered. Releasing the key, she let the
engine rest a minute, then tried again. The sound of the engine softened as the battery weakened.

If she had the money, she would have gotten a new battery before
she left El Paso.

"Please, please." She leaned her head against the steering wheel.
They couldn't be stuck out here. It would be dark in another hour, and
the ranch had to be miles away.

Her gaze went to Betsy, who was lost in coloring the bluebirds
in the Cinderella picture. Betsy would freak if they were stranded in
the dark. Her night terrors were bad enough without actually being
in danger.

Allie tried the engine again, but the grinding slowed until all she
heard was the clicking of a dead battery. The empty highway stretched
out to the horizon ahead and behind. Marfa was at least twenty miles behind her. There was no one she could call for help, even if she had
a cell phone.

Leaning across the seat, she unlocked her daughter's door. "Let's
go for a walk, Bets. I want to get a few more shots of you in those bluebonnets, and there's a great patch just a little ways down the road."

Betsy shook her head and locked the door. Hating to be firm, Allie
bit her lip and got out of the car. She went around to the passenger
door and unlocked it with her key. "Come on, it will be fun."

Betsy's lip trembled, and tears filled her eyes, but she got out and
took Allie's hand in a death grip.

Allie hit the lock on the door with her other hand, and they
started toward the darkening mountains. "Just a little ways farther."
She'd get Betsy to go about half a mile, then they'd take some pictures,
then walk some more. Once the truck was out of sight, Betsy would
quit looking behind.

"Your daddy was the strongest man who ever lived," Allie said.
"One time the car fell off the jack when his friend was under it, and
your daddy lifted it up with his bare hands so his friend could get out."

Betsy smiled, obviously drinking in the story. For a second she
looked up at her mom instead of at the ground.

Their feet made a lonely sound on the pavement. "Look at the
bluebirds, Bets." Allie pointed out a flock sitting along the electrical
wires along the road.

Betsy rewarded Allie with an expression of interest as she craned
her neck to watch the birds. She adored all things with feathers, and
Allie took her bird-watching as often as possible. Maybe if she pointed
out birds along the way, she'd be able to get Betsy to walk until dark
without too much coaxing.

Allie watched the bright mountain bluebirds herself a moment. She'd once thought she found her own bluebird of happiness, but it
flew away, never to be found again. Now all she could do was put one
foot in front of the other and keep going. Keep Jon's memory alive for
Betsy and honor the amazing man he was.

The light was beginning to fade, and the birds would be finding
spots to sleep soon. Then what?

Allie quickened their pace. They had to find help. The road rose to
meet them, and the steep incline ahead didn't look pleasant. She tried
not to worry about how many deserted highway miles lay ahead.

"Race you to the top!" She started to let go of Betsy's hand, but the
little girl clutched it more tightly and slowed her steps. "Don't want
to race?"

Betsy shook her head and made a drinking motion with her hand.
Allie slapped her forehead with her palm. How could she have forgotten to bring water? She had a case of bottled water in the truck, and
they'd walked off and left it. Casting her gaze back, she couldn't see
the truck in the gloom that was whisking away the last of the light.
They'd lose even more light if they went back.

She stood in the middle of the road and tried to figure out what
was the best thing to do. A road sign was just ahead. She studied the
words, figuring them out in her head. Big Bend 10. Bluebird Youth
Ranch was supposed to be nine miles from the national park, so
maybe the road to the place would be right up ahead. They were
closer than she thought. That would be faster than going back.

"There will be water at the ranch,"Allie said, tugging Betsy onward.
"Let's hurry."

A rumble sounded behind them, and she turned to see lights shining out of the gloom. Her initial relief dimmed as she realized how
isolated they were. Maybe they should hide in the bluebonnets.

The way Betsy clutched her hand told her the little girl was
frightened too. "Let's hide in the wildflowers, Bets," she whispered.
"The ranch isn't far." Praying the driver was too far away to see
them, she dashed toward the flowers with Betsy in tow. They hit the
dirt, and without warning, a line of bumblebees flew up from their
ground nest.

Right toward them.

Allie shrieked and leaped to her feet, jerking Betsy with her. The
little girl's mouth opened in horror as the bees descended, but she
didn't scream. Allie felt a sharp pain on her cheek and another on her
arm. The loud buzzing disoriented her, but she reached for Betsy. Four
or five bees clung to her top. Allie swatted them off, too intent to even
flinch at the stings in her fingers.

Maybe there were some under the fabric. Allie pulled the T-shirt
over Betsy's head and found two more bees clinging to the underside.
She shook them off, then grabbed her daughter's hand and ran.
Another bee stung her in the back of the arm, and she swiped at it,
knocking it to the ground. They reached the road and left the bees
behind. Silent tears rolled down Betsy's face, and she held her arm.

Allie slipped the top back onto her daughter. "Oh Bets, I'm sorry.
It was my fault. Do the stings hurt?" She pulled Betsy close. The little
girl wrapped her skinny arms around Allie's neck and buried her face
in her chest. Allie rubbed the soft skin of the little girl's arm. The
stings were already swelling.

Allie thumbed Betsy's tears away. "Let me check for stingers.
There might be some left in your skin."

"I saw what happened."A man's voice came from the truck idling
five feet away. "The little girl okay?"

Allie had forgotten all about the approaching vehicle. She glanced around for a stick or some kind of weapon. There was nothing. Edging
her daughter behind her, she backed up.

"That was a pretty stupid thing to do." His voice went flat. The
truck door opened, and a man stepped out and moved into the
headlights.

Allie's nails bit into her palms, and she struggled to hold back the
words she wanted to say. With the lights blinding her, she got only a
brief impression of his bulk and height. Betsy sounded like she was
about to hyperventilate.

"Stop, don't come any closer!" Allie edged further away. "I've got
a gun." She put her hand in the pocket of her jeans like there was really
something there.

He squatted near Betsy. "Are you hurt, honey? Let's go get something on those stings." His voice was surprisingly gentle.

Betsy edged her wet face around Allie's waist, and her death grip
loosened. Allie stared at her daughter. She didn't trust easily, but she
pulled away from Allie and stepped toward the man. Anyone who
coaxed a bit of trust from Betsy deserved a second look.

"She has several stings,"Allie told him. Her own fingers throbbed
with stingers, but she'd get them out on her own. Putting her fingers
to her mouth, she pulled one out with her teeth.

"Let me see. Come in front of the headlights." He leaned into the
truck and rummaged in the glove box. Carrying a first-aid kit, he
moved to the front of the vehicle. "It won't hurt," he said to Betsy,
who lowered her head and moved slowly. "Show me the stings."

Betsy held out her arm without looking at him. "Looks like the
stingers are still there." He pulled out his wallet and extracted a credit
card, which he swept over the marks. "Got them!" He opened the kit
and pulled out a can.

"Is that deodorant?"Allie asked.

"Yep. Meat tenderizer is better, but aluminum chlorohydratc reduces
the effect of bee venom too." He sprayed Betsy's arms and neck. "Better?"

Betsy nodded, still not looking at him.

He stood and nodded to the north. "Was that your old rattletrap
down the road? You need some help?"