If Wishes Were Horses (18 page)

T
HE NEXT MORNING
broke bright and clear, revealing another lovely day in paradise.
At least the weather is cheerful,
Gabby thought as she did her best to guide her Honda through the streets of Boca Raton.

Changing gears hurt her injured hand and she knew that she shouldn't be driving, but she had resolved to do this thing. She was unsure whether today's short pilgrimage would provide any answers. But even if it didn't, there would be no harm in trying. She needed to go someplace where she could think undisturbed, and only one spot would do.

Because it was Monday and she should have been at school, she had had to divulge her scheme to Celia. After Celia and Trevor left the town house, Gabby had called Roy Marshall and fibbed that she had forgotten about a follow-up doctor's appoint
ment for her hand. True, it had been the palest of white lies. But given how Roy had helped her during her time of need, even such a tiny falsehood had produced a guilty pang.

After parking her car she stood for a time and stared at the gold-colored cross rising from the roof of St. Andrew's, unaware that Wyatt had done the same thing after she and Reverend Jacobson first met with him. Then she sighed and headed for the church.

Gabby was familiar with the St. Andrew's weekday schedule. There was always a prayer service at nine
A.M.
and Holy Eucharist at noon. In between the two services, the church remained open so that people could meditate in the pews, and pray at the candle votive stand. Because it was after ten, the first service was over.

Gabby entered the sanctuary to find that she was alone. Walking up the center aisle, she made her way to the left side of the far wall and kneeled before the votive candle stand situated there.

After bowing her head she made the sign of the cross, then selected a long-stemmed match from a wooden holder sitting on the stand. Several of the candles were already alight, their combined glow casting ephemeral shadows against the back wall. After striking the match she lit a candle, and then placed the extinguished match in the waste receptacle. She closed her eyes again, clasped her hands before her, and bowed her head in prayer.

Before coming here she knew who she was going to pray for. It wasn't to be for her, or for Wyatt, or even for Trevor. As she implored God in the name of her late husband, memories both harsh and happy came flooding back.

She had loved Jason despite his many faults. Yes, he had been
domineering and ultimately abusive. Even so, she hoped that his soul had found its just measure of peace. He had been Trevor's father, and nothing could ever change that. But she and Trevor had new lives now, lives that no longer included him. And it was those new lives that she must nurture and protect.

After putting a modest sum into the votive offering box, Gabby walked to her usual pew and sat down. The view from there was more familiar and comforting. In truth, she had come here for two reasons, and praying for Jason had been only the first of them. The second was to try to sort through her mixed feelings for Wyatt Blaine.

She looked back to where Wyatt always sat. She could easily imagine him rising from his pew, just as Reverend Jacobson began to conduct the blessings. Wyatt would then hand some cash to one of the ushers before heading off toward brunch, his tie already undone and the top down on his Jaguar convertible. As these sentimental memories tugged at her, Gabby's eyes started glistening. Turning forward to again face the altar, she tried to compose herself and look into her heart.

The only two men I have ever loved have both hurt me deeply,
she thought.
Is it because I love too ardently? Do I give too much? Is that why I always become so vulnerable?

If Wyatt can't respect my feelings now, what would he ultimately be like if our hearts were truly joined? Can I risk that? The same problem occurred with Jason, little things at first, but they eventually grew into problems of great importance, driving us apart.

Suddenly another concern seized her, causing her to wonder why she hadn't considered it sooner.

My God…does Wyatt see me and Trevor as replacements for Krista and Danny?
she wondered.
Reverend Jacobson said that Krista had been a marvelous horsewoman. Was that why Wyatt pushed me so hard to go riding with him? Is he trying to fashion me in her image? And if he truly fell in love with me, how could I ever know that it was for the right reasons?

I can't afford to blindly deny all these fears. And because that's the case, then neither can I afford to become more deeply involved. I couldn't bear having my love for him die the same slow death as it did with Jason. I just can't endure that again.

And so you must end your love for him before doing so becomes impossible,
her heart of hearts told her.
You must let him go and never look back.

As the stark realization took hold, she started trembling.

But there is more to consider. Trevor still needs the program. And so I must rely on Celia to take him to and from the ranch, because I can never go there again. Seeing Wyatt and knowing that we can never be together would be too painful, no matter the circumstances. It will be a huge burden for Celia, but New Beginnings won't last much longer. And when all of this is over, I will find some way to repay her many kindnesses.

Her mind finally made up, Gabby lowered the upholstered bench for her pew with trembling hands. She again went to her knees then placed her hands together on top of the pew before her. As she prayed for strength, she hoped with all her heart that she had made the right decision, no matter how painful.

She finally put the kneeler back into place and started walking out of the church. Partway out, she stopped and took a fare
well look around the sanctuary that she so loved. Like the ranch, she would never return here. Loving Wyatt Blaine had cost her much, it seemed.

And so she would have to find another church. And perhaps, with luck, another man to love. But she doubted that any man would ever affect her as deeply as Wyatt. Before leaving, she couldn't help but look one last time at where he always sat, her heart deeply mourning what might have been.

As she drove out of the St. Andrew's parking lot, she finally exploded into tears.

T
HAT SAME AFTERNOON,
Ram and Wyatt sat on the front porch of the big house, waiting for the teens and their parents. Without being told, Ram knew full well that Wyatt wanted to greet Gabby the moment she arrived. Likewise, Wyatt understood that his father's infamous curiosity was killing him, and nothing short of a natural disaster could keep the old man from seeing what would happen.

Looks like I'll be eating humble pie,
Wyatt thought.
Truth is, I deserve it
.

Wyatt felt terrible about what had happened. When Gabby fell from Caesar, he had immediately feared that she was dead. A terrifying host of emotions had run through him, much like those he had felt on learning Krista's fate. It was a gut-wrenching kind of dread that he never wanted to suffer again, and it had shaken him to his very core.

It didn't take a wizard to realize that Gabby was angry. Given the chance, he would do his best to apologize again and set things straight, but he feared it wouldn't work. He also worried that Gabby might become unduly concerned about Trevor's safety and pull him from the program. If she did, he would be powerless to stop it.

Ram leaned back in his rocker. “Did they find Caesar?” he asked.

Wyatt nodded. “Yeah, but it took some doing. He's okay. Must have reared up just in time.”

“Good,” Ram said. “By the way, is Gabby still missing in action?”

Wyatt nodded.

“Bad sign…,” Ram said.

“I know,” Wyatt answered.

Ram sighed. “Women are a lot like horses, Wyatt,” he said. “It takes a long time to earn their trust, but only a moment to wreck it. And once it's wrecked, it's not easily mended. Your mother was like that, God rest her soul.”

When the cars started arriving, Wyatt watched anxiously. Soon Gabby's battered Honda turned off the highway and started up the drive. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Well, at least they've come back,” Wyatt said. “Looks like it's time to face the music.”

Ram pursed his lips. “Yep,” he said.

“Any advice?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah. With women, go slow and don't expect miracles.”

They watched Trevor get out of the car. When Wyatt saw the unfamiliar driver, he stiffened.

“Uh-oh,” Ram said softly. “That's a bad sign. You don't need
a weatherman to know which way the wind blows on this deal.”

“Maybe Gabby can't drive because of her hand,” Wyatt said hopefully.

“Yeah, but I'd bet the ranch that isn't all of it.”

When they reached the porch, Wyatt went to greet them. The redheaded woman regarded Wyatt politely.

“Mr. Blaine?” she asked.

“Please call me Wyatt,” he said.

“My name's Celia Ward,” she said. “I'm a friend of Gabby's, and I'll be bringing Trevor to the ranch for the remainder of the program.”

Wyatt tried to hide his shock and disappointment, but it remained clear that Celia's words had hit him hard. He knew full well that Gabby was angry, but he hadn't expected such a final pronouncement.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he said, trying to remain cheerful. He turned and looked at Trevor. “How's your mom?” he asked.

“She's okay, I guess,” he said. “But her hand still hurts, and she's been kind of cranky.”

Wyatt nodded. “You'd better get inside, Trevor. Your therapy session starts in ten minutes.”

As Trevor entered the house, Ram left his chair and sauntered over. He tipped his hat at Celia.

“I'm Ram Blaine,” he said. “Glad to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Celia answered. “Gabby's told me all about you.”

“And you decided to come out here anyway?” Ram asked, giving her a wink.

Celia smiled. “I did,” she answered.

“Could we talk a bit?” Wyatt asked her.

“Sure,” Celia answered.

“Use my office,” Ram said to Wyatt.

As Wyatt escorted Celia through the mansion, she looked around with awe. When they reached Ram's office, Wyatt motioned Celia toward one of the guest chairs, and he sat down behind Ram's desk.

Celia looked around admiringly. “Such a beautiful room,” she said.

“Thanks,” Wyatt answered. “So tell me, how do you know Gabby?”

“I'm Roy Marshall's assistant,” Celia answered. “Gabby and I have become close—especially lately, what with all of Trevor's shenanigans. Until he started New Beginnings, he spent more time in Roy's office than he did in class.”

“And how is Roy?” Wyatt asked. “It's been a while since I've seen him.”

“Roy is Roy,” she answered. “He never changes.”

“True,” Wyatt said.

“You and I met once before,” Celia said, “but I'm not surprised that you don't remember.”

“Really? When was that?”

“Shortly after Danny died,” Celia said respectfully. “You visited the office to remove him from the rolls.”

“Ah, yes.”

Silence soon overtook the room as Wyatt considered his next question. No fool, Celia had a good idea what it would be about. As she waited, she better understood Gabby's attraction to him.
Damn
,
he's good looking,
she thought.

Wyatt cleared his throat. “And how is Gabby?” he finally asked.

“She'll be okay,” Celia answered. “She was shaken up, but she's a tough cookie.”

Wyatt nodded. “May I ask you a personal question?”

“You can ask…,” Celia said.

“She's still too upset to see me, isn't she?” he asked. “I realize that she probably can't drive, but she could have come along today anyway.”

And there it is
,
Gabbs,
Celia thought.
Just how do I answer that one
?

Celia sighed and slid her chair closer. “I don't want to tell any tales out of school,” she said, “no pun intended. Gabby's my best friend and I won't violate her trust. But she's way past mere anger. I saw that this morning when she asked me to bring Trevor here for the duration of the program. She's truly upset—more so than I've ever seen her.”

“Are things salvageable?” Wyatt asked.

“Maybe, but it would take one helluva gesture. I sure wouldn't count on her ever coming back.”

“Thanks,” Wyatt said. “I'm sorry if I put you on the spot. It's just that—”

“I know,” Celia answered.

After thinking for a moment, Wyatt stood. “Seeing as you'll be spending some time here, would you like the grand tour?”

Relieved that their awkward talk was over, Celia smiled. “I'd love it,” she said.

 

HALF AN HOUR LATER,
Wyatt returned to the porch. Ram was still staring out across the emerald lawns while Butch and Sun
dance prowled the grounds, diligently searching for something to chase. Wyatt sat down beside his father.

“Where's Celia?” Ram asked.

“I showed her around then left her in the game room with the others,” Wyatt answered.

“So what's the verdict?” Ram asked.

Wyatt sighed. “Seems I'm guilty as charged.”

“Thought so…,” Ram said. “Any chance for an appeal?”

“Maybe,” Wyatt answered. “But it's going to take a great closing argument. I'm not sure I'm lawyer enough to do the job.”

Ram nodded. “Well, one thing's for sure,” he said. “Unlike before, this time the mountain won't be coming to Mohammed.”