If Wishes Were Horses (28 page)

M
ANKIND HAS OFTEN
enforced a savage dominance over the horse, and for that he should apologize. These magnificent beasts toiled mightily over the centuries to help us tame the wilds, plow and harvest our fields, and transport our possessions, even die in our wars; and sometimes under the cruelest of masters. I am proud to say that I never participated in their abject slavery. Even so, I humbly request forgiveness from every horse that has crossed my path, for they are truly God's noblest creatures.”

After closing his journal and returning it to its hiding place, Ram went back to his desk. He smiled, thinking about that passage and how much it meant to him.

Ram loved the old quote, and he had committed it to memory as a young man. On realizing that it had never been included in his journal, he had decided to finally write it down. Although
he realized that he might soon forget it, knowing that it lay safe among those pages granted him a unique kind of comfort.

Such phrases might sound silly to some,
he thought,
but not to me. One must be a horseman to understand…

Ram turned to look through the sliding glass door of his office and across the Flying B's lawns. Pale moonlight and evening dew had conspired to lend the grass a silvery sheen. It was nearly midnight, but recent events had buoyed him so much that he wasn't ready for sleep.

At long last, the final wall separating him from his sons had been torn down. Jacobson had been right. Such walls can be invisible, and far stronger than one might imagine. Last night's talk with Wyatt and Morgan had been cathartic, but worth the pain. Morgan cried openly when he learned of his lost sibling. Although Wyatt already knew the story, he again became teary eyed. As the three of them talked all night, never before had Ram felt so close to his sons, or they to him.

Wyatt had never intended to be late for church and worry Gabby, but he had been touched by her concern. When Reverend Jacobson blessed them as a couple, Wyatt realized that Ram must have requested it. For the first time in his life, Wyatt actually appreciated his father's intrusive nature.

Following the service, everyone ate brunch at Chez Paul and then went to the ranch. The day had passed happily, ending with another of Aunt Lou's fried-chicken dinners. The feasting had run late, with Gabby and Trevor staying overnight in two of the big-house guest rooms.

Ram turned in his chair and gazed about his office. As was
his habit, one by one he examined the mementos he had lovingly gathered. There were the many family photographs, his treasured gun collection, and his old English paintings. The twin Tiffany desk lamps purchased long ago by his father glowed with multi-colored hues. And mounted against the far wall was surely the most unique prize of all—the piece of truck bed through which Wyatt had shot his infamous bullet hole.

Such keepsakes were truly comforting. But Ram knew that as his mind slowly slipped away, these treasures would become meaningless to him. And so he cherished this moment for a while longer, quietly reflecting on a life that could still be remembered with a modicum of authority.

Ram finally straightened his old legs and stood from his chair. As he turned to close the mahogany plantation shutters, he again looked out across the lawn. He would visit the barn before turning in, he decided. After opening the sliding door, he stepped out onto the dew-laden grass then closed the door behind him. Walking purposefully, he soon neared the old family cemetery.

He stopped for a moment, thinking. Like Wyatt, he was convinced that Phoebe's lost child had been a girl. He couldn't say how he knew, he just did. And now that Morgan and Wyatt had been told, he could at last commission a small headstone in her memory. As he looked at Phoebe's grave, he knew that she would have approved. He then lit a cigarette and walked to the barn.

When Ram switched on the lights, some of the horses stirred, causing him to smile. Deciding to check on Doc, he turned a corner and headed for the colt's stall. He found Doc asleep on the deep, yellow straw that Trevor had laid down only hours before. For a time he remembered Sadie, and how much he had loved her.
He walked on.

Mankind has often enforced a savage dominance over the horse, and for that he should apologize. These magnificent beasts toiled mightily over the centuries to help us tame the wilds, plow and harvest our fields, and transport our possessions, even die in our wars; and sometimes under the cruelest of masters. I am proud to say that I never participated in their abject slavery. Even so, I humbly request
—

Just then an overpowering stillness blanketed his mind, and he could remember no more of the beloved quotation. He stopped walking, trying to remember, but the words wouldn't come. As he anxiously looked about himself, he suddenly felt like a stranger, inhabiting an even stranger land. He recognized nothing—not a single stall, nor any horse, nor the way out. He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten here. And as his bewilderment grew, a paralyzing fear took root in his soul.

He tried to remember his name, but it was no use. He looked at himself to find that he was dressed oddly, like some cowboy character. Sweat broke out along his brow as he struggled to understand the understandable. As the pieces of the puzzle stubbornly refused to fit together, his terror grew by leaps and bounds.

His old heart beat faster, and his breath came more hurriedly. He knew only one thing. The walls of this foreboding place were closing in on him, and he had to get out. He desperately searched for an exit, but could find none. His fear mounted; his heart raced like it was about to burst through his chest.

After tossing away the unwanted cigarette, he started to cry.

 

SUDDENLY THE LIGHTS IN
Gabby's bedroom switched on, causing her to stir. As someone pulled the bedcovers off her, she growled sleepily. She looked up to see Aunt Lou standing over her. Lou's face was pale and twisted with fear.

“Get up!” Lou screamed. “Get up and come downstairs!”

Then Lou charged from the room.

Gabby hurried out of bed and quickly threw on a bathrobe. Just as she was about to run from the room, she sensed an ominous presence. Almost in slow motion she turned and walked toward the bedroom balcony. When she opened the doors, what she saw defied description.

The main barn was ablaze.

The huge old structure was heavily engulfed in flames. Fire roared through ragged holes in the roof and burst violently out the windows. Even from the relative safety of the big house, Gabby could feel the searing heat, and smell the dense smoke that was quickly fogging the grounds. Horses screamed, timbers creaked, and glass shattered crazily. For several moments she stood frozen in time, wondering if the world she had so come to love was about to end. Then she suddenly thought of Trevor, and she bolted from the room.

“Trevor!” she screamed as she ran down the hallway.

On reaching his room, she barged through the door. To her horror, Trevor was gone. Insane with worry, she ran for the staircase. When she reached the foyer, she saw Wyatt. He was shirtless and urgently shouting into the phone. Lou stood near him, her entire body trembling. Then Gabby saw Trevor, and she cried out in joy. She ran to him and pulled him close.

His expression desperate, Wyatt slammed the phone down
and spun around. Rushing up to Lou, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Where's Big John?” he screamed.

“He's in the barn!” Lou shouted. “He's the one who woke me and said to get everybody else up! Then he said that he had to try and save as many of the horses as he could! I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen!”

“What about Mercy?” Wyatt screamed.

“She went in, too!” Lou shouted back.

Everyone raced onto the porch, to see that the barn had become a raging inferno. Wyatt guessed that the fire had progressed so far that anyone who went inside might never return. Nor would the fire department he had just summoned reach the Flying B in time. Then the sounds of screaming horses returned, and a small herd of the fear-crazed beasts suddenly charged to safety through what remained of the barn's front doors.

His face a pale mask, Wyatt suddenly glared at Aunt Lou.

“Where's Ram?”
he screamed.

Lou threw up her hands. “I…I…don't know!” she shouted. “I tried to find him, but I couldn't! Then I came and got you!”

His mind racing, Wyatt turned and again looked at the barn. Suddenly, he knew. When his eyes met Gabby's, she froze.

“I have to…,” he said to her. At once he was racing across the grass.

As she watched Wyatt go, Gabby felt something inside her die.

 

WHEN WYATT CHARGED
into the barn, he could hardly believe his eyes. Everywhere he looked he saw hell on earth. The two-hundred-year-old structure, with all of its tinder-dry hay stored on the second floor, was being consumed at a rate he would never have dreamed possible.

The ceiling creaked, smoke roiled, and heat-infused windows burst all around him. Here and there flaming ceiling beams were caving in, literally shaking the ground when they landed. As the intense heat sank into his being, Wyatt suddenly remembered that he was shirtless, and he spat out a single epithet.

Just then another massive beam fell to the floor, narrowly missing him and exploding in a cacophony of flames, sparks, and thunderous noise. The force of it knocked him to the ground and blocked the way he had come. He dizzily came to his feet, realizing that he would now have to go the long way around in order to reach the stalls. But could he make it alive? And was it really worth it?

Yes!
his oxygen-deprived mind shouted.
You've got to find Ram!

Ram would most likely be trying to free the horses, Wyatt realized. Coughing and peering through the lung-choking smoke, he finally managed to reach where the stalls lined either side of the long, sky-lit corridor. But there was no sign of Mercy, Ram, or Big John.

Most of the horses had been freed, their stall doors hanging open amid all the chaos. But others remained imprisoned, banging their bodies and hooves insanely against the walls of their stalls. His lungs begging for oxygen, Wyatt did his best to start throwing open the rest of the doors.

Their minds crazed from the fire, many of the horses simply refused to go. Wyatt could have blindfolded them, but there was no time. More often than not he had to scream wildly at them, and strike their haunches to get them moving and out into the alleyway. It was taking too long, he knew, but he kept on trying.

By now he was burned in several places, his lungs were heaving, and sweat poured freely from his body. When he thought that all the horses had finally been freed, he quickly looked around. As he peered through the smoke, his jaw dropped in terror.

Great, burning holes were forming in the ceiling and allowing blazing hay to cascade down, dripping fire as it came and turning the corridor floor into one long path of roiling flame. Still searching wildly for his father, Wyatt did his best to peer through the gathering smoke.

“Ram!”
he screamed. “
Father
,
are you here?”

Maybe they all got out,
he desperately hoped.
Maybe they went while they still could…

But just as he decided that was the case, another realization seized him.

Doc…,
he thought.
He's always kept in the birthing stall!

After quickly finding a rag and dipping it into a half-filled water bucket, Wyatt tied it around his head so as to cover his nose and mouth. Doing his best to avoid the flaming debris, he ran down yet another corridor and started making his way toward where Sadie had delivered Doc. As he clawed his way nearer, he heard the singularly horrific screams of a young horse in terror. Doing his best to peer through the smoke, he finally reached the stall.

Doc was thrashing about madly in the deep hay, his legs,
head, and body bloodied from banging himself against the walls of his fiery prison. Just then a flaming board fell from the ceiling, setting the stall hay on fire. Doc screamed even louder now, as the flames started licking his hooves and lower legs. Throwing open the stall door, Wyatt charged inside.

Screaming wildly at the colt, Wyatt got behind him and slapped his haunches. Finally Doc bolted from the stall and started charging madly down the only corridor that remained clear. Wyatt had wanted to guide him out, but the strong young horse disappeared into the smoke almost before Wyatt realized it.

Go, Doc!
Wyatt's oxygen-deprived brain shouted.
Run away and live!

Wyatt frantically looked around. He had saved the horses, but at what cost? He still didn't know where Ram was, and because of his searching, he had probably sealed his own fate. Trying to peer through the ever deepening smoke, this time he could find no way out. Even the way that Doc had gone was blocked.

Just then he heard a menacing creaking from above. He looked up to see another beam loosening from the ceiling, this time coming straight for him. As it came crashing down, all he could do was to desperately try diving out of its way…

 

FOR GABBY, LOU, AND
Trevor, the passing seconds seemed like hours; the minutes seemed like days. Lou and Trevor stood alongside Gabby, each of them watching a disaster that was horribly unjust, and equally unstoppable. Trevor tried twice to bolt away and follow Wyatt into the barn. It was all Gabby and Lou could do to hold him back.

Moments later, Gabby saw two figures flee the inferno. But because of all the fire and smoke, she couldn't tell who they were. To Gabby's great horror, each of them carried a charred body. Then Gabby recognized the two corpses, and she started to faint.

As Trevor caught her in his arms, the last thing she heard was the wailing of fire trucks, charging up the Flying B's private drive.