Lonestar Sanctuary, Page 2

  Allie wagged her finger at her friend. "Don't try to find out any more.

  "What if Betsy's grandparents show up? What should I tell them?"

  "The truth. That you don't know where I am. If they can't find me, they can't serve me with custody papers." She picked up her suitcase and dragged it toward the door. "I packed too much," she panted.

  "Let me help." Yolanda sprang toward her.

  "Just get the door."

  Yolanda opened the door, and Allie dragged the bulky luggage out onto the dirt. She opened the tailgate of her old pickup and heaved it into the back with the ragtag assortment of rope, bridles, empty Pepsi cans, and old blankets.

  "What if the police have questions?" Yolanda followed Allie toward the paddock. "And all your friends from church will want to know you're okay. Girl, it scares me to think about you being off on your own with no support."

  "I'll call and check in occasionally. I can't let that guy find me and Betsy." Allie stepped to where Betsy stood at the fence. She scooped up her daughter and inhaled the scents of red licorice and little girl.

  Betsy was all she had left of Jon. Allie would give her every possible reason to talk again. "Ready to go, Bets?"

  Betsy shook her head so hard her ponytails flipped against her cheeks. She set her chin, and her lips quivered. Even the threat of leaving everything she knew and loved didn't break the wall of silence that had encased her for a year.

  Allie set her on the ground and took her hand. "We'll come back for a visit. Come along, honey." Betsy's feet scuffed along the dirt, but she followed her mother to the truck.

  "Call me, girl." Yolanda grabbed Allie in a tight hug.

  Allie clasped Yo back, closing her eyes and imprinting the musky scent her friend wore in her memory. It would be all she'd have to hold her until they met again.

  She was going into hostile territory.

  "I'll call when I get there." Allie's eyes burned, and she knew she had to get out of there. Tears would upset Betsy. She got in the truck and buckled her seat belt, just a lap belt, the thing was so old. "Fasten up, Bets."

  As the truck pulled away from the stockyard, Allie forced herself not to look in the rearview mirror and watch her ten-year dream dissolve in the distance.

  z

  BLUEBONNETS. THOUSANDS OF THEM. THE CARPET OF BLUE UNDULATED over the hills, melding into the distant haze of the mountains. Those peaks had been growing ever since she left the Del Norte Mountains behind and pressed closer to the Rio Grande.

  Allie rubbed her tired eyes. Even Eddy Arnold belting out "Gonna Find Me a Bluebird" failed to energize her. Six hours on the road with the dust blowing in through the open windows had left her eyes dry and gritty.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. No other vehicles meant no pursuit. They had time to enjoy this, make a memory. She lifted her foot from the accelerator. "Look, Betsy, let's get your picture taken in the bluebonnets!"

  Dark curls tied up in red holders hid Betsy's face from view. She plucked at the frayed edges of a hole in her jeans and didn't answer.

  Allie would not allow despair to take hold. She would root it out, trample it underfoot, burn it to ash. Her daughter would talk again, laugh again, find joy again.

  She forced a bit of cheerfulness into her voice. "I'll stop here and get your picture."

  Something clanked in the old Ford's underbelly when she parked it at the side of the road. "Come on, sweetie," she coaxed. She hung the camera around her neck and turned to her daughter. "I'll show you the picture of me in the bluebonnets. I think I was about five at the time too."

  She remembered the day so clearly. Her mother's smile, her scent. Allie's hands gripped the wheel in a spasm of agony. Nearly a year after her parents' deaths, the pain still threatened to swamp her. She shook off the memory and got out of the truck.

  The sweet aroma of the thousands of flowers wafted around her. The wildflowers tossed their blue heads in the breeze and lifted their faces to the fading sunlight. How could Betsy not be moved by this place?

  These hills felt like a sanctuary, a place of healing for them both.

  Allie went around to the passenger door. The latch was always a bit tricky on this side, but she managed to wrench it open. Betsy's wide eyes were as blue as the wildflowers carpeting the landscape. Allie could see Jon in those eyes.

  She lived for the day when those blue depths didn't hold fear. "It's okay," she said. "There's no one here."

  Betsy hiked one leg out the door and looked around before she stood and put her small hand in Allie's. Allie led her into the bluebonnets and sat her down. The flowers almost looked like hyacinths, and the fragrance was divine, the sweetness intoxicating. The flowers stood tall on bright green stalks and came up to Betsy's chest, where they contrasted with her yellow shirt. Dusk was only a few minutes away, and the lighting was perfect.

  "Just a minute."Allie turned on her digital camera, a gift from her parents, and snapped several shots of Betsy sitting stone-faced in the flowers. "Smile, Betsy," she called. But of course her daughter's lips stayed straight and sober.

  Allie would give anything to hear the little girl giggle again.

  "Let's go, sweetie."

  Betsy jumped to her feet and ran to the truck. She slammed the door shut, then got out her coloring book and crayons.

  Allie inhaled the fragrance one last time and slid under the steering wheel. She twisted the key. The engine did nothing but grind. "Come on, come on," she muttered. Releasing the key, she let the engine rest a minute, then tried again. The sound of the engine softened as the battery weakened.

  If she had the money, she would have gotten a new battery before she left El Paso.

  "Please, please." She leaned her head against the steering wheel. They couldn't be stuck out here. It would be dark in another hour, and the ranch had to be miles away.

  Her gaze went to Betsy, who was lost in coloring the bluebirds in the Cinderella picture. Betsy would freak if they were stranded in the dark. Her night terrors were bad enough without actually being in danger.

  Allie tried the engine again, but the grinding slowed until all she heard was the clicking of a dead battery. The empty highway stretched out to the horizon ahead and behind. Marfa was at least twenty miles behind her. There was no one she could call for help, even if she had a cell phone.

  Leaning across the seat, she unlocked her daughter's door. "Let's go for a walk, Bets. I want to get a few more shots of you in those bluebonnets, and there's a great patch just a little ways down the road."

  Betsy shook her head and locked the door. Hating to be firm, Allie bit her lip and got out of the car. She went around to the passenger door and unlocked it with her key. "Come on, it will be fun."

  Betsy's lip trembled, and tears filled her eyes, but she got out and took Allie's hand in a death grip.

  Allie hit the lock on the door with her other hand, and they started toward the darkening mountains. "Just a little ways farther." She'd get Betsy to go about half a mile, then they'd take some pictures, then walk some more. Once the truck was out of sight, Betsy would quit looking behind.

  "Your daddy was the strongest man who ever lived," Allie said. "One time the car fell off the jack when his friend was under it, and your daddy lifted it up with his bare hands so his friend could get out."

  Betsy smiled, obviously drinking in the story. For a second she looked up at her mom instead of at the ground.

  Their feet made a lonely sound on the pavement. "Look at the bluebirds, Bets." Allie pointed out a flock sitting along the electrical wires along the road.

  Betsy rewarded Allie with an expression of interest as she craned her neck to watch the birds. She adored all things with feathers, and Allie took her bird-watching as often as possible. Maybe if she pointed out birds along the way, she'd be able to get Betsy to walk until dark without too much coaxing.

  Allie watched the bright mountain bluebirds herself a moment. She'd once thought she found her own bluebird of happiness, bu
t it flew away, never to be found again. Now all she could do was put one foot in front of the other and keep going. Keep Jon's memory alive for Betsy and honor the amazing man he was.

  The light was beginning to fade, and the birds would be finding spots to sleep soon. Then what?

  Allie quickened their pace. They had to find help. The road rose to meet them, and the steep incline ahead didn't look pleasant. She tried not to worry about how many deserted highway miles lay ahead.

  "Race you to the top!" She started to let go of Betsy's hand, but the little girl clutched it more tightly and slowed her steps. "Don't want to race?"

  Betsy shook her head and made a drinking motion with her hand. Allie slapped her forehead with her palm. How could she have forgotten to bring water? She had a case of bottled water in the truck, and they'd walked off and left it. Casting her gaze back, she couldn't see the truck in the gloom that was whisking away the last of the light. They'd lose even more light if they went back.

  She stood in the middle of the road and tried to figure out what was the best thing to do. A road sign was just ahead. She studied the words, figuring them out in her head. Big Bend 10. Bluebird Youth Ranch was supposed to be nine miles from the national park, so maybe the road to the place would be right up ahead. They were closer than she thought. That would be faster than going back.

  "There will be water at the ranch,"Allie said, tugging Betsy onward. "Let's hurry."

  A rumble sounded behind them, and she turned to see lights shining out of the gloom. Her initial relief dimmed as she realized how isolated they were. Maybe they should hide in the bluebonnets.

  The way Betsy clutched her hand told her the little girl was frightened too. "Let's hide in the wildflowers, Bets," she whispered. "The ranch isn't far." Praying the driver was too far away to see them, she dashed toward the flowers with Betsy in tow. They hit the dirt, and without warning, a line of bumblebees flew up from their ground nest.

  Right toward them.

  Allie shrieked and leaped to her feet, jerking Betsy with her. The little girl's mouth opened in horror as the bees descended, but she didn't scream. Allie felt a sharp pain on her cheek and another on her arm. The loud buzzing disoriented her, but she reached for Betsy. Four or five bees clung to her top. Allie swatted them off, too intent to even flinch at the stings in her fingers.

  Maybe there were some under the fabric. Allie pulled the T-shirt over Betsy's head and found two more bees clinging to the underside. She shook them off, then grabbed her daughter's hand and ran. Another bee stung her in the back of the arm, and she swiped at it, knocking it to the ground. They reached the road and left the bees behind. Silent tears rolled down Betsy's face, and she held her arm.

  Allie slipped the top back onto her daughter. "Oh Bets, I'm sorry. It was my fault. Do the stings hurt?" She pulled Betsy close. The little girl wrapped her skinny arms around Allie's neck and buried her face in her chest. Allie rubbed the soft skin of the little girl's arm. The stings were already swelling.

  Allie thumbed Betsy's tears away. "Let me check for stingers. There might be some left in your skin."

  "I saw what happened."A man's voice came from the truck idling five feet away. "The little girl okay?"

  Allie had forgotten all about the approaching vehicle. She glanced around for a stick or some kind of weapon. There was nothing. Edging her daughter behind her, she backed up.

  "That was a pretty stupid thing to do." His voice went flat. The truck door opened, and a man stepped out and moved into the headlights.

  Allie's nails bit into her palms, and she struggled to hold back the words she wanted to say. With the lights blinding her, she got only a brief impression of his bulk and height. Betsy sounded like she was about to hyperventilate.

  "Stop, don't come any closer!" Allie edged further away. "I've got a gun." She put her hand in the pocket of her jeans like there was really something there.

  He squatted near Betsy. "Are you hurt, honey? Let's go get something on those stings." His voice was surprisingly gentle.

  Betsy edged her wet face around Allie's waist, and her death grip loosened. Allie stared at her daughter. She didn't trust easily, but she pulled away from Allie and stepped toward the man. Anyone who coaxed a bit of trust from Betsy deserved a second look.

  "She has several stings,"Allie told him. Her own fingers throbbed with stingers, but she'd get them out on her own. Putting her fingers to her mouth, she pulled one out with her teeth.

  "Let me see. Come in front of the headlights." He leaned into the truck and rummaged in the glove box. Carrying a first-aid kit, he moved to the front of the vehicle. "It won't hurt," he said to Betsy, who lowered her head and moved slowly. "Show me the stings."

  Betsy held out her arm without looking at him. "Looks like the stingers are still there." He pulled out his wallet and extracted a credit card, which he swept over the marks. "Got them!" He opened the kit and pulled out a can.

  "Is that deodorant?"Allie asked.

  "Yep. Meat tenderizer is better, but aluminum chlorohydratc reduces the effect of bee venom too." He sprayed Betsy's arms and neck. "Better?"

  Betsy nodded, still not looking at him.

  He stood and nodded to the north. "Was that your old rattletrap down the road? You need some help?"

  "I could use a jump," she said. She kept her voice cool. Rattletrap indeed. Maybe it was, but the comment held too much contempt for her liking.

  "Hop in."

  Her trust would only go so far. "We'll meet you down there. Who are you, anyway?"

  His sigh was loud and exasperated. "Look, lady, I'm not an ax murderer. Just get in the truck, and I'll give you my resume later."

  Betsy shrank back at his harsh voice and buried her face in Allie's waist.

  Instantly, the man squatted. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm not mad." Betsy peeked at him from between her fingers, and he smiled. He stood and put his hands in his pockets. "It's not safe to walk out here by yourself. I'll let you drive my truck back and I'll walk."

  "How about you ride in the back and let me drive?" Allic didn't think he'd agree, but she didn't feel right about making him walk.

  If only Jon were here.

  "Okay." He tossed her the keys and strode to the pickup's rear, where he put one boot onto the wheel well and vaulted into the back.

  The guy was a mountain. Allie didn't like big men. They made her feel even smaller than she already was and more inept.

  She stared at the keys in her hand and forced a smile. "Let's go get our truck, Bets." She opened the driver's-side door, and Betsy climbed in, then scooted across the seat. Allie slid inside after her daughter. Nice wheels. The vehicle wasn't new, but he'd taken good care of it. Its gray interior didn't hold a speck of dirt.

  She started the truck, turned around, and drove back toward her pickup. The headlights picked out the silhouette. When she reached it, she angled the man's vehicle so the headlights shone on her hood.

  The man jumped out and opened the hood of his truck, then fiddled with something inside. She watched him walk around to her truck and open the driver's door. She thought she'd locked it. No, only Betsy's door, she remembered.

  She got out to help. Only one boot showed under her open driver's door. The battery clicked, then he exited the vehicle.

  "Lady, you're out of gas," he said with a disgusted thrust to his lip. "Don't you have any sense at all? Dragging a kid out into the middle of nowhere without gas, putting her in a nest of bumblebees, and not even taking any water with you."

  He had no idea what she'd been through. Stiffening her back, she stared at the man until he looked down.

  "Sorry, it's none of my business," he said.

  "No, it's not. We're on our way to Bluebird Youth Ranch. Is it close?"

  His head came up at the mention of the ranch. "I work at the ranch. It's just a mile down the road. We weren't expecting any visitors."

  "I know. I've come a long way to talk to someone there." Two men actually, but he didn't need t
o know the details. If she had the nerve, she'd ask him if he knew Rick Bailey, the foreman.

  The surly man stalked to his pickup and flipped down the tailgate. Tight-lipped, he stalked back with a gas can in his hand. He drained it into the gas tank, then went back to his truck. Revving his engine, he called out the window, "Try it now."

  Allie ran to the truck and slid under the wheel. "Please, please start," she muttered under her breath. She cranked the engine. It ground slowly, then picked up speed and turned over. It was running so rough that the truck shook, but at least it would go.

  "Come on, Bets," she called. Betsy ran to get into the passenger seat.

  The man's pickup pulled away, the tires spitting sand and dust. Allie dropped the transmission into drive and followed him. The blackness of night cloaked the land as she followed him into a wide dirt lane, hard and packed from the weight of vehicles. At a distance, the lights of the house and four outbuildings shone a welcome, and Allie felt the weight of fatigue press heavier.

  So this was the Bluebird Ranch. Even the name had intrigued her when her mother talked about it. A longing for home and family rose, and she squelched it. She had to stay focused.

  Surely they wouldn't turn her away tonight.

  The man switched off his engine and walked back to her truck. "I'll take you to Elijah. He's probably in the barn. Cupcake is about to foal. Come with me."

  Grabbing Betsy's hand, Allie leaped from the truck and followed the man's long steps toward a big white barn. It had a hipped roof, and white paddocks stretched as far as she could see in the moonlight. The last building was a hangar that held a small plane.

  "Who's the pilot?" she asked, pointing to the plane.

  "I am. The distances are so great out here, it makes sense to fly when we can."

  A border collie, tail wagging, came to meet them. The animal rose on its hind legs without touching either of them. The joyous expression of the dog's excitement brought a smile to Betsy's face.

  "Nice dog." Allie said, pausing to pet the collie. "Male or female?"

  "Jem's a male. Don't spoil him. He's a herd dog."