Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (7 page)

Kelly raised her eyebrows, which was the most she ever said this early in the day.

“I have been finding squares of calico fabric,” Sam said. “They’re everywhere—on my desk, in the mailbox, in my car, and even in the pockets of my clothes. At first I thought it was Max bringing them in…but now I’m not sure what to think.”

Kelly took a long sip of coffee and gazed out the window. And then she looked at Sam with a grin.

“What?” asked Sam. “Do you know something about this? Why are you grinning? Did
you
leave them, Kelly?”

“Nope, not me,” she said, putting down her coffee mug, the mug with the hand-painted coyote on the side that her granddaughter had made.

“Well, you obviously know something about it,” said Sam. “I have a pretty large collection of them in my desk and I am beginning to think someone is playing a joke on me.”

Kelly walked over to her jacket and pulled out a small square of yellow, pink, and blue flowered fabric. “Like this?” she asked.

“You, too?” asked Sam. “Where did you find it?”

Kelly held the fabric up to the light and squinted. “This one I found hanging on a saddle in my barn. The others I found in my house and a few were in a book or two,” she said as she put the fabric back into her pocket.

“But…where are they coming from? Who’s doing this? Now I am totally confused,” Sam said, as she pulled open the desk drawer, showing Kelly the pile of colored swatches that were scattered within. Kelly took another sip of coffee and looked out the window. She shrugged her shoulders and just stood there with a curious grin.

“You know something,” Sam said. “I know that look.”

Kelly slowly shook her head. “I only know that they started showing up last summer. I didn’t say anything because I figured in time I would understand their reason. I hadn’t realized that they were coming to you as well.”

Sam looked at her friend. “Umm…what do you mean by ‘their reason’ and ‘coming to me’? You say it like they have a mind of their own.”

Kelly put down her coffee and turned her thoughts to the folder of music sheets that were in the satchel she always had beside her. She was humming and seemed miles away in thought. Sam stared at her in disbelief. Pieces of colored fabric were appearing everywhere and Kelly seemed to think it was perfectly normal. Well, thought Sam, she is getting old. Maybe she’s having a senior moment. I can’t wait until Brenda gets here—she’s going to have a field day with this one.

Chapter 14

Carrie gazed out the window at the dull desert landscape that seemed to go on forever. Suddenly, a brown speckled bird with its tail held high darted across the road and Brenda squealed in excitement. “A roadrunner, Carrie! A roadrunner…that was a roadrunner. Did you see it?” she asked, breathlessly.

“Umm, yeah,” she said, “I think it was a roadrunner, Mom.”

“Don’t be a wise-aleck, Carrie. It’s my first sighting of one and I’m so psyched!” Carrie looked ahead, noticing the distant mountains now looming larger, the same mountains that seemed to be taking them eons to reach. The temperature was soaring and the air conditioning was on full blast. She reached for her bottle of water and glanced at the clock. They should be there in a few hours and she would be happy to get out of this prison of a car. Her mom was all hyper and chatty but Carrie wasn’t paying her any attention. Her mom thought they both shared this excitement of finally getting to their new home. Carrie was actually trying to forget about it. In fact, she was thinking about the dream she’d had last night, and she pulled her journal from her backpack and read over her entry.

Sunday June 29th:

I had another dream of rolling hills of fabric. It all began with those same lights flickering on sparkling water. Then I was looking down at the patterned lands that were made of patches of varying colors. I felt as if I were flying as I soared overhead. The hills had valleys and I dipped down into them as I looked all around me at the many colors of blue, pink, green, lavender, and gold. Then a black, misty fog covered the hills and all went dark. The darkness slowly became un-foggy as if the sun was beginning to rise. Black hills appeared and three horses were standing on the ridge. They were pawing the ground and I heard them snorting as they swished their tails. They were real horses but they were covered in patches of fabric. As I looked closely I could see that they were each made of the same swatches I had seen on the hills. Three beautiful horses covered in calico fabric. And then I woke.

Carrie hadn’t told her mom about this dream. Her mom called these recurring dreams, but actually each of her dreams was a bit different from the last. The most recent one was the most amazing. The horses seemed as if they were looking at her, waiting for something…but what? She had only been around horses once—at a friend’s house—and even then she had only petted them through a fence. Her dad had said that perhaps one day he would take Carrie over to ride the horses, but he never did. Parents were always saying stuff like that, she thought. Some day we’ll do this and some day we’ll do that…but those somedays never came. When she got older and she had kids, well, she would follow through on all of her promises and do everything she said. Yep, thought Carrie, someday when I’m in charge I’m gonna let my kids know that dreams really do come true. She gazed out the window and pressed her nose on the chilled glass. I wonder why I’m having these patchwork dreams? It was so cool to feel like she was flying…and the horses, well…they felt like old friends. Silly dreams, she thought to herself. I hope when I get to this new place these dreams will all fade and I can go to sleep without crying. Nights were the hardest, but soon she would have Flannel beside her and all would be well. Yep, all she needed was to hug her collie and life would start to feel a little more like home. Home, she thought, as she rolled her eyes beneath her sunglasses…wherever that was.

Brenda stopped talking when she realized the girl was not even listening. She glanced at her sulking daughter as they rode on in silence. Carrie hadn’t even noticed that her mom was no longer speaking and when Brenda pulled the car to the side of the road and turned off the engine, Carrie jumped up, knocking her water bottle onto the floor.

“Are we outta gas? Wh-why’d ya stop, Mom?”

Brenda ignored her, got out of the car, and walked a few feet away, just gazing off into the distance. She stood there, hands on hips, overwhelmed by the beauty before her. The sky was a shade of blue that she had never seen. The mountains had rolling peaks of multi-colored rock. They seemed as if they were made of many shades of pinks, blues, golds, greens, and lavender. Carrie came over and lifted her eyes to the beauty before her. Neither spoke a word as they watched two hawks circling overhead. An odd kind of rabbit suddenly appeared and dashed away as the hawk flew closer. Rabbits from back east were smaller with gray fur and shorter ears; this larger rabbit was dusty brown with long slender ears. Mother and daughter looked at each other in amazement.

“I think that was a jackrabbit!” Brenda said. “And those gorgeous birds are a type of hawk we would never see back in Jersey.”

Carrie pointed off in the distance. “Look at those strange mountains, Mom. I never knew they could have so many colors.”

Brenda smiled. “That’s where we’re headed. That’s where Sam is. We’ll be living in a town where you can look at those mountains every day.”

Wow, thought Carrie, wondering if she would get a chance to get a closer view. They truly were a spectacular sight and looked nothing like she had imagined them. She remembered Shannon saying something about colored mountains when she was looking through the Nevada brochures, but Carrie had ignored all of those dreadful pictures. She wished her dad were here to witness this. He loved hiking and camping and this landscape would really catch his eye. Carrie took out her camera and started to take a few photos.

The air smelled of blossoms and Brenda looked around to see what might be in bloom. The ground was covered in a light green scrubby mass with tiny buds. When she looked closely she could see a darker green plant with new shoots. Although it was only June it felt very much like August. Off into the distance she spotted some animals with their heads down. She squinted to try to see what they were doing. Cows? No, I don’t think cows come in black. She laughed at herself comparing the grazing animals to a pair of shoes.

She walked over to her daughter and pointed to the animals. “Can you zoom in and see what those black and brown dots are?” Carrie adjusted the camera and shook her head. “It isn’t able to zoom in that far, Mom, but I think they look like cows or horses.”

“That’s what I thought but I’m not sure if there are any black cows out here in the desert.”

“Do cows come in black, Mom?” asked Carrie, as she held her hand up to block the sun. Brenda started to laugh at how ignorant of cows they both were. “We really are learning new things together. I only know the brown Jersey ones.”

“Look, there are a few more dots of animals over there and they have gold ones, too. They must be wild horses,” said Carrie.

“Oh, wow,” Brenda said. “Look at them out there grazing. They don’t look any different than the horses we see on farms back home.”

“Yeah, except they aren’t behind fences,” Carrie added, wondering if they ever came into people’s yards.

Sipping water, mother and daughter stood side by side studying the scene that continued to draw them in. Carrie turned to her mother and leaned in for a hug—a hug she hadn’t been able to give since they hit the Garden State Parkway. Brenda pulled her in close and felt the silent tears that fell from her daughter’s eyes.

“You’re not alone, Carrie. I’m always here,” she said softly. “All I’m asking is that you give it a try.”

Try what, Carrie thought, as she sniffled and tried to stop the flood of tears. Try to forget Daddy and Shannon and all that she loved back in New Jersey? Never. I won’t promise anything, she said to herself. I never thought I would want to run away, but now…she looked off into the distance at the horses running free across the land. Freedom, she thought. Freedom from grownups and their stupid rules. Now
that
was something she would try to forget.

“I’ll try,” she said, looking up at her mother, wiping her nose on her sleeve. They hugged again and headed to the car. “We should be there pretty soon,” Brenda said, turning the key.

They drove on in silence toward the colorful mountains. Carrie gazed out at the galloping horses. Anxiety grew as they approached the town of Saddlecrest. Her stomach began doing flip-flops. How odd, she thought—endless days in a car with my mom and not once did I ask…are we there yet?

Chapter 15

Milla sat in the jeep with Flannel as her father went into his office. He had received a phone call as they were about to go meet the collie’s owners, but now they would be a bit late. Flannel was racing from side to side trying to decide which window had the best view of the mustangs gathered in the nearby corrals. She was pawing at the window, wanting to be let out, but Milla knew she would run among the wild horses and that was forbidden. Curious collies and wild mustangs were not a good combination. Horses defended themselves with sharp hooves and quick kicks that could kill a dog in an instant. She ran her hand reassuringly over Flannel, trying to calm her. The collie glanced at Milla with her tongue out, panting, and then barked loudly at the herd. “I bet she’s never even seen horses before,” Milla thought. Flannel was sitting very still watching an Appaloosa, stubbornly unwilling to share the hay on the ground, put its head down chasing away the other horses. Milla wanted to put a leash on the dog and go for a walk, but her father had been very stern when he told her to stay put. Why do adults always say that they will only be a few minutes when it’s always so much longer? she thought. And how come if I’m a few minutes late I get hollered at? These rules seemed unfair to Milla as she twisted her hair around her fingers while the collie whined in the backseat.

Milla thought back to the days when sitting in a car with her grandmother was so much fun—how Grandma would tell stories of things that seemed so magical. She would listen intently as the stories came alive; it was easy to imagine the places and animals Grandma described. Minutes would melt away as Grandma wove a tale about the horses of the Calico Mountains. Each story was an adventure about the many bands that lived out on the desert. She would point to a herd grazing off in the distance and call them by name. Were they true or just stories, Milla wondered. That was the most mysterious part.

Her dad explained that although Grandma had passed away, one day Milla would see her again. How, thought Milla? Is this a story her dad was making up or was it real? Like the many adventures of the mustangs that Grandma had told her, was this just another story? Grandma seemed quite serious when she told the tales. She always told Milla the truth, even when other adults seemed to shy away from a subject—like how her mom died when Milla was only four and why some people called her dad a wild horse killer. She thought back to her mother and the memories she held so dearly…of the blanket her mother had crocheted for her that she still slept with. Would she see them again? she wondered. She thought of the night last summer when her dad came to tell her that Grandma had fallen asleep and was not going to wake up—how she had wanted to go and see Grandma and although he said no at first, he finally agreed. Grandma was so beautiful; she seemed to be smiling that morning. But she was in a different place now and Milla wondered what it would be like to just sit and talk to her again. She’s happy and at rest, her dad told her. She was happy with me, too, Milla thought. Could she really be happier? Yes, the thought came. Most definitely…yes.