myself. Loved working with them, loved being able to help them. And I could tolerate the people. It was time I begrudged. Precious time to spend with my own horses, see what was blooming in the garden, be a family with Blue and the animals.
A family with Blue. I sighed. Thoughts that had been lying patiently in wait just under the conscious surface of my busy, busy mind rose steadily into view. Blue wanted to get married. Did I? Did I want a child?
Maybe. I could feel the longing, the buried maternal instinct lifting its head. To hold a baby, to be a mother, to walk hand-in-hand with a toddling child, the center of his universe. Mama. And I was thirty-eight years old this year. If I wanted to have a baby, maybe it was time to start trying.
I could feel the tug in the other direction, too, towards freedom and independence: no strings, or groping baby hands, attached. One thing was for sure, I thought, if I ever wanted to be married, to have a mate and raise a family, Blue was the one. I couldn't imagine a man that I would admire more, desire more, feel more comfortable with.
But was it enough? Enough to trade in this life that I had found so rewarding? I had no illusions. If Blue and I married, it would be to start a family, something that was clearly on both our minds. And if I had a child, I would stay home to raise it; I would be a proper mama. As a mare raises her foal, as any mammal cares for her young, so would I do. My baby would nurse and lie next to my body at night and be carried in my arms during the day. While my child was young and needed me, I would be there.
Give up my work? Even for a while? The thought was a scary one. Still-I fiddled restlessly with the vent fans-I'd been creeping through traffic for half an hour now, with another half hour to go. It was getting dark. I was definitely getting tired of this. Maybe it was time for a break.
Oh hell. I shoved the confusing, conflicting thoughts away, wondering if Blue realized the turmoil that his proposal would cause in my heart. At this moment, I'd rather concentrate on anything else. Like Tracy Lawrence, for instance.
Tracy Lawrence, who had seemed so furious with Sam. And who had also been surprised, even shocked, when I recounted Dominic's last words.
Why? I wondered. And why was it Tracy who had called me about the injured horse, rather than Sam?
I found out half an hour later. Dusk was giving way to dark as I pulled in the Redwood Ranch driveway, my headlights showing me the barn. No humans in view, but there was a light in a nearby box stall. I walked in that direction.
Peering over the door, I saw Tracy Lawrence, tears running down her cheeks, holding the leadrope of a palomino gelding. The horse's neck was cut wide open under the throatlatch, blood staining the yellow hair, skin gaping red. I gasped, whether at the animal's injury or Tracy's expression, I couldn't say.
Tracy jumped at the sound and turned to face me. Almost unrecognizable as the cute little blond stereotype I was used to seeing, her initial expression was a mask of fury, which rapidly softened into frustration as she recognized me.
"Gail, it's you." Tears in Tracy's voice as well as on her face. "You took so long."
"I'm sorry. There wasn't anything I could do. I was in Aptos when you called, and you know what the traffic is like at this hour."
"I know. But I've been so scared. I didn't want to move this horse or leave him for a second. Look."
I looked. Sure enough, clearly visible in the gaping hole, but apparently uninjured, the jugular vein pulsed. Any nick there could be fatal.
"I'll get my stuff and stitch him up," I said.
Returning in a minute, I gave the horse a shot of tranquilizer to keep him quiet, and had Tracy steady his head as I began the delicate stitching job.
"Where's Sam?" I asked.
Tracy's eyes flashed. "I don't know. But probably down at the bar with his buddies, drinking himself under the table."
"Oh. So, what happened to this horse?"
"I haven't
A family with Blue. I sighed. Thoughts that had been lying patiently in wait just under the conscious surface of my busy, busy mind rose steadily into view. Blue wanted to get married. Did I? Did I want a child?
Maybe. I could feel the longing, the buried maternal instinct lifting its head. To hold a baby, to be a mother, to walk hand-in-hand with a toddling child, the center of his universe. Mama. And I was thirty-eight years old this year. If I wanted to have a baby, maybe it was time to start trying.
I could feel the tug in the other direction, too, towards freedom and independence: no strings, or groping baby hands, attached. One thing was for sure, I thought, if I ever wanted to be married, to have a mate and raise a family, Blue was the one. I couldn't imagine a man that I would admire more, desire more, feel more comfortable with.
But was it enough? Enough to trade in this life that I had found so rewarding? I had no illusions. If Blue and I married, it would be to start a family, something that was clearly on both our minds. And if I had a child, I would stay home to raise it; I would be a proper mama. As a mare raises her foal, as any mammal cares for her young, so would I do. My baby would nurse and lie next to my body at night and be carried in my arms during the day. While my child was young and needed me, I would be there.
Give up my work? Even for a while? The thought was a scary one. Still-I fiddled restlessly with the vent fans-I'd been creeping through traffic for half an hour now, with another half hour to go. It was getting dark. I was definitely getting tired of this. Maybe it was time for a break.
Oh hell. I shoved the confusing, conflicting thoughts away, wondering if Blue realized the turmoil that his proposal would cause in my heart. At this moment, I'd rather concentrate on anything else. Like Tracy Lawrence, for instance.
Tracy Lawrence, who had seemed so furious with Sam. And who had also been surprised, even shocked, when I recounted Dominic's last words.
Why? I wondered. And why was it Tracy who had called me about the injured horse, rather than Sam?
I found out half an hour later. Dusk was giving way to dark as I pulled in the Redwood Ranch driveway, my headlights showing me the barn. No humans in view, but there was a light in a nearby box stall. I walked in that direction.
Peering over the door, I saw Tracy Lawrence, tears running down her cheeks, holding the leadrope of a palomino gelding. The horse's neck was cut wide open under the throatlatch, blood staining the yellow hair, skin gaping red. I gasped, whether at the animal's injury or Tracy's expression, I couldn't say.
Tracy jumped at the sound and turned to face me. Almost unrecognizable as the cute little blond stereotype I was used to seeing, her initial expression was a mask of fury, which rapidly softened into frustration as she recognized me.
"Gail, it's you." Tears in Tracy's voice as well as on her face. "You took so long."
"I'm sorry. There wasn't anything I could do. I was in Aptos when you called, and you know what the traffic is like at this hour."
"I know. But I've been so scared. I didn't want to move this horse or leave him for a second. Look."
I looked. Sure enough, clearly visible in the gaping hole, but apparently uninjured, the jugular vein pulsed. Any nick there could be fatal.
"I'll get my stuff and stitch him up," I said.
Returning in a minute, I gave the horse a shot of tranquilizer to keep him quiet, and had Tracy steady his head as I began the delicate stitching job.
"Where's Sam?" I asked.
Tracy's eyes flashed. "I don't know. But probably down at the bar with his buddies, drinking himself under the table."
"Oh. So, what happened to this horse?"
"I haven't
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