got a clue. It was real busy out here today, people coming and going, bringing horses, riding. Sam gave some lessons. I mostly stayed in the house, stayed out of Sam's way. He stuck his head in the door around five o'clock, said he was going to town and I was supposed to feed the horses. I flipped him off, for all the good it did. I knew he was off to get drunk, but," she shrugged, "the horses do need to be fed and I was the only one to do it.
"I found this guy like this when I went to feed him. I can't figure out how he could have got hurt in the stall. I can't see anything sharp, can't find anything with hair or blood on it."
"It's an amazingly clean cut," I said. "Perfectly smooth, no jagged edges. Like someone did it with a knife."
"But who would want to cut poor Pal's throat?"
"Who does he belong to?" I asked.
"A twelve-year-old girl. He's her show horse."
"That is weird." I was halfway done sewing the cut up. Keeping my eyes on my work, I asked the question that had been on my mind since I got here. "Tracy, are you afraid of Sam?"
Tracy's face seemed to crumple. She made a heroic effort to hold back the tears; I could see her jaw clench. "Sam's got a bad temper," she said, barely audibly.
"I know that. Do you think he would hurt you?"
"It's more than that." Tracy put her free hand over her face. "I told him last week that I was leaving him. I told him Friday morning, while he was sober, so he would understand that I meant it."
"Oh," I said. "That explains a lot."
"There's more." Tracy looked down at her boots. "I told him I was leaving him for Dominic."
"You were what?" My hands almost jerked, I was so startled. Letting my breath out slowly, I reminded myself to stay focused on my job. Carefully I brought the flaps of skin together and resumed stitching.
"You told Sam you were leaving him for Dominic?" I repeated.
"On Friday morning," Tracy said again.
"Oh my God." It was all I could do to keep from jumping again. "So you think that Sam might have ..." My words trailed off.
Tracy was crying openly now. "Gail, I don't know what to think. I've been so scared and confused. I've cried and cried for Dominic, but I can't tell anyone about it. I never would have thought Sam could do something like that, but now, I just don't know. He seems so crazy lately.
"And I don't know what to do. Dominic's gone, I've got nowhere to go, Sam's my husband, what am I supposed to do?"
"Do you have any family?" I was almost done stitching.
"They're all back in Texas."
"Any friends you could stay with?"
"Not really. I've only been out here a year."
"I don't know what to tell you, Tracy. I think if I were you I might go back to Texas and stay with family awhile."
Tracy shook her head firmly. "I'm not doing that. I'll get by somehow. Sam wants me; he wants me to stay. I'll work around it."
"If you're afraid that Sam killed Dominic"-I put the last stitch in the palomino horse's neck-"you shouldn't stay here. Do you want to come home with me?"
That brought a weak smile to Tracy's face. "No, Gail. But thank you."
I tried one more time. "Tracy, it doesn't sound like it's a good idea for you to be here with Sam. Really."
Tracy met my eyes. For the first time I noticed, beneath the pretty-girl exterior, a flat, cynical, hopeless quality. "I'm not sure I really care," she said.
"I'm sorry." I was done with the horse; I was ready to go. Whatever Tracy's problems were, it was clear that I couldn't solve them. I gave her antibiotics and instructions for dealing with the animal and took my leave.
It was black dark as I made my way out to the truck, no moon at all. A spring breeze tossed the redwood boughs above me, sounding like surf on the beach. There was a chill in the air. I shivered.
Climbing in the cab of the pickup, I drove out through various parked horse trailers and a couple of trucks. The big white dually that Sam drove still appeared to be absent. I hoped for Tracy's sake that it would stay gone all night. And then,
"I found this guy like this when I went to feed him. I can't figure out how he could have got hurt in the stall. I can't see anything sharp, can't find anything with hair or blood on it."
"It's an amazingly clean cut," I said. "Perfectly smooth, no jagged edges. Like someone did it with a knife."
"But who would want to cut poor Pal's throat?"
"Who does he belong to?" I asked.
"A twelve-year-old girl. He's her show horse."
"That is weird." I was halfway done sewing the cut up. Keeping my eyes on my work, I asked the question that had been on my mind since I got here. "Tracy, are you afraid of Sam?"
Tracy's face seemed to crumple. She made a heroic effort to hold back the tears; I could see her jaw clench. "Sam's got a bad temper," she said, barely audibly.
"I know that. Do you think he would hurt you?"
"It's more than that." Tracy put her free hand over her face. "I told him last week that I was leaving him. I told him Friday morning, while he was sober, so he would understand that I meant it."
"Oh," I said. "That explains a lot."
"There's more." Tracy looked down at her boots. "I told him I was leaving him for Dominic."
"You were what?" My hands almost jerked, I was so startled. Letting my breath out slowly, I reminded myself to stay focused on my job. Carefully I brought the flaps of skin together and resumed stitching.
"You told Sam you were leaving him for Dominic?" I repeated.
"On Friday morning," Tracy said again.
"Oh my God." It was all I could do to keep from jumping again. "So you think that Sam might have ..." My words trailed off.
Tracy was crying openly now. "Gail, I don't know what to think. I've been so scared and confused. I've cried and cried for Dominic, but I can't tell anyone about it. I never would have thought Sam could do something like that, but now, I just don't know. He seems so crazy lately.
"And I don't know what to do. Dominic's gone, I've got nowhere to go, Sam's my husband, what am I supposed to do?"
"Do you have any family?" I was almost done stitching.
"They're all back in Texas."
"Any friends you could stay with?"
"Not really. I've only been out here a year."
"I don't know what to tell you, Tracy. I think if I were you I might go back to Texas and stay with family awhile."
Tracy shook her head firmly. "I'm not doing that. I'll get by somehow. Sam wants me; he wants me to stay. I'll work around it."
"If you're afraid that Sam killed Dominic"-I put the last stitch in the palomino horse's neck-"you shouldn't stay here. Do you want to come home with me?"
That brought a weak smile to Tracy's face. "No, Gail. But thank you."
I tried one more time. "Tracy, it doesn't sound like it's a good idea for you to be here with Sam. Really."
Tracy met my eyes. For the first time I noticed, beneath the pretty-girl exterior, a flat, cynical, hopeless quality. "I'm not sure I really care," she said.
"I'm sorry." I was done with the horse; I was ready to go. Whatever Tracy's problems were, it was clear that I couldn't solve them. I gave her antibiotics and instructions for dealing with the animal and took my leave.
It was black dark as I made my way out to the truck, no moon at all. A spring breeze tossed the redwood boughs above me, sounding like surf on the beach. There was a chill in the air. I shivered.
Climbing in the cab of the pickup, I drove out through various parked horse trailers and a couple of trucks. The big white dually that Sam drove still appeared to be absent. I hoped for Tracy's sake that it would stay gone all night. And then,
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