Desert Rose Read online

  “Mom, you are such a worry-wart. Things will look better to you in the light of day. Let’s get some sleep now, okay? Rosie nuzzled her mom’s neck. “Don’t worry over nothing.”

  CHAPTER | FOUR

  It took a week after their return from Colorado for life to settle down into the normal routine at Hartley Ranch. Ginny took five girls and her nephew, Brody, to the Arabian Youth National Championship show in New Mexico. Dear friends and fellow equestrians, the Howard family, met them on the road and the group joined a group brought to New Mexico by Chris O’Neal from Colorado. All the competitors had success at the championship show. The group made a spur of the minute decision to go to Colorado for two days afterward. While the young competitors were out enjoying a trail ride in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, the second largest forest fire in Colorado history blew up behind them.

  Several days of sheer panic followed. The young people found themselves trapped in a canyon that protected them from the fire but prevented them from letting anyone know where and how they were. One horse, Desperado, was credited with saving the lives of nine other horses, nine young people, and his elderly owner when they were found safe at last. Once Ginny Hartley and the rest of the California contingent arrived back at Hartley ranch, press from both print and television inundated them. It took about a week for things to finally die down enough to resume their normal activities at the ranch in Pinon Hills.

  It was summer, so there was no school and the girls had plenty of time to ride, practice, and trail ride. They didn’t talk much about the experience among themselves, but there was a deep and abiding sense of closeness among them and Brody. They had looked death in the face and survived together.

  Maryann Wilcox couldn’t get used to the fact her “services” were no longer needed at the ranch. She first came to the ranch as a volunteer to work off the cost of horseback riding lessons. Many things had changed over the past several months with the arrival of grandparents she’d never met. Her mother, Rose, now had the money to pay the board bill for La Duquesa and paid Ginny for Maryann’s coaching. Maryann still showed up at the ranch ready to work. She didn’t mind cleaning water buckets, mucking stalls, cleaning tack and grooming horses for Ginny. She enjoyed spending the time with Brody and working with the ranch horses.

  Celeste Carnegie, Maryann’s grandmother, spent a lifetime surrounded by wealthy people who never did physical labor. She loved being surrounded by people who thrived on being outdoors doing physical activities. She spent a lot of time with Ginny while she, her husband Charles, and Maryann’s mother Rose were in Colorado. They waited together for information about Maryann and her nine companions during the fire. She and Charles found out they had a granddaughter only a few months ago. They discovered what a delightful young lady she was. In Colorado, they were terrified fate would take her from them too soon.

  Celeste felt drawn to Hartley Ranch for the peace she found there in the beauty of the outdoors. She was also drawn to Ginny for her strength and courage during the recent crisis. She respected Rose for her ability to find something to do for others while she waited for news about her only child. She saw the two women as steel over marshmallow. They were both tough on the outside and soft on the inside. Celeste enjoyed sitting on Ginny’s back patio overlooking the ranch so she could watch Maryann and the others working and enjoy her views of the desert and the mountains that brought such peace to her soul. She brought Maryann to the ranch that day. Charles had some business to take care of, and Rose was busy with paperwork. Maryann’s Great Aunt and Uncle, Adele and Roy had doctor visits. That left her to provide transportation, and she loved doing it.

  Maryann found Brody on the ranch and cleaned water buckets with him. The horses were fed. Mike Hartley’s crew finished mucking stalls. Mike was working a horse in one of the arenas. Ginny took care of paperwork in her office. Maryann checked the tack room and found it all in order. She and Brody were out of work to do.

  “Hey, why don’t we go for a ride?” she asked him.

  “Sure, where did you want to go?” he asked.

  “Let’s go south today. Maybe we can find that cabin where Mike and Ginny found La Duquesa. I wonder if anyone lives there yet?”

  “I think it’s just a weekend cabin. I don’t know if anyone lives there all the time. We could check it out if you want to,” Brody suggested.

  Maryann and Brody pulled horses from their stalls, brushed them down and tacked them up for the ride. Maryann pushed bottles of water into a pouch she attached behind her saddle. They walked their horses outside the barn and mounted. They walked to the arena where Mike was working his horse and let him know they were leaving and which direction they were going. Mike confirmed they both had their cell phones on them and waved them off.

  “I can’t believe we’re back to normal after all that happened in Colorado, can you?” Maryann asked him.

  “Me neither. That was intense. If it hadn’t been for Desperado, I think we might have burned up in that fire.”

  “Yeah, my tee-shirt got a few holes in it. I saved it as a souvenir. Do you believe how cold it got at night in that canyon? I know rocks are hard, but those rocks poked me to death until the firemen dropped us sleeping bags and tents. But, I swear some of those rocks still tried to get me even through all that,” Maryann laughed.

  “My clothes smelled so bad when we got back to Chris’s ranch Aunt Ginny made me throw them away!” Brody laughed. “I got holes in mine too. Mine smelled like smoke and dirt and sweat. They were yucky!”

  “Why don’t you tell me about that horse you liked so much. You know, the one you told me about that belonged to one of Uncle Mike’s clients,” she asked after a while. “You were the only one of us kids who didn’t have your own horse. Todd didn’t either, but Hilda gave Desperado to him. I thought that was awesome of her.”

  “Yeah, that was nice of her. Desperado was probably worth a lot of money, but he sure saved our skins. Aunt Ginny told me Hilda gave Desperado to him for his birthday. She says Hilda is going to stay with Chris and Sharon now since her home burned up. Aunt Ginny also told me Hilda gave all her property to Chris and Sharon too. She told them her own kids would sell it off when she passes away, and she didn’t want that to happen.”

  “Wow! I didn’t know that. What are Chris and Sharon going to do with it?” Maryann asked.

  “I think Chris and Sharon own their twenty acres and there’s one property between theirs and Hilda’s forty acres. Ginny said they are going to rebuild the barns and fix the turnouts and use it for boarding and for breeding. Hilda also gave Desperado’s mother to Chris and Sharon. They are going to breed her and hope to get another horse as good as Desperado,” he said.

  “Oh, how neat! I love the babies. Maybe we can get to see the baby someday. Wonder if it will be a colt or a filly this time? But, what about that horse you loved so much. Aren’t you going to tell me more about her?”

  CHAPTER | FIVE

  Brody looked away. The reminder was painful for him. “My Bizzy Izzy? Her real name is Desert Rose. Everybody else calls her Rosie. She was the most beautiful chestnut when she shed out her baby coat. She had a perfect blaze that was wide across her forehead above her eyes and tapered down

  to a narrow stripe that ran down to her nose. She had four white socks. She was beautiful. She had the face of her mother. Her mother was a purebred Arabian like I told you. Her father was that big sorrel stallion of Uncle Mike’s. Her body was compact like an Arabian, but she muscled up pretty good like a Quarter Horse,” he told her while he stared out toward the mountains.

  “She sounds pretty,” Maryann said. “What was she like?”

  “She was a firecracker! She was always busy with something. That’s why I called her “Bizzy Izzy.” She would chase the jolly ball all around her paddock. When she wasn’t doing that she pushed rocks with her nose. She was like a perpetual motion machine. She never stopped moving until she fell asleep. She would drop in a heap beside her mother for a nap,
then hop back up and do it some more. I was much younger too. She would visit with me and suck on my fingers sometimes. That was okay until she grew teeth. After that, I had to let her know to be careful not to bite me. She liked to play with me. I would chase her in the turnout, and she would chase me. We never caught each other but enjoyed the game. She squealed like a little piggy when she was happy. She knew what time I got home from school and was always waiting for me,” he was a little sad as he remembered. He turned his face away from Maryann and stared at the mountains.

  “How long was she here at the ranch?” Maryann soldiered on, hoping to hear more about her.

  “She was born at the ranch because Mr. Garcia was hoping to build his ranch out here nearby. He and his family live in San Juan Capistrano. I think Becky’s parents know him and his wife. They have a great big house in a gated section there, but they can’t keep horses at home. He was trying to find a large parcel of land out here and build another home and facility for his horses. He finally did,” he told her.

  “Why did Uncle Mike train her for cutting? She was half Arabian. Don’t they ride Arabians in different disciplines?” she asked.

  “Oh, you should have been here! She was put in the large turnout one day when she was about nine months old. She ran around and stretched her legs in that for a while. One of the calves got loose from the calf pen. It wandered around and made its way into the turnout with Rosie. She looked at it and watched it for a couple of minutes, then began to work that calf. She refused to let him get away and finally had him pinned in one corner before Uncle Mike intervened. He had to halter her and put her in her stall to make her give that calf enough space for them to put him away,” he laughed. “That’s when Uncle Mike decided she was a natural born cow horse.”

  “Wow! That’s amazing! Sounds like she decided what job she wanted to do all by herself,” Maryann laughed.

  “That she did,” Brody laughed. “Uncle Mike had the vet check her legs when she was two and a half and got the go-ahead to get her started. They don’t start the Arabians until they are three, but the Quarter Horses start at two. She’s half of each. I think he was itching to put her on live cows. You know Uncle Mike also trained Mr. Garcia’s stallion, Cutter, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t think I ever saw him. He must have gone before I came to work for Aunt Ginny.”

  “I know you are in love with Arabians, but you should have seen Cutter,” Brody explained. “He was the neatest stallion on the ranch. His full name is Cut It Out! He came in as a late yearling and Uncle Mike did some groundwork with him until he was ready for a rider. He is beautiful. He’s a golden palomino with two white rear stockings and a silver-white mane and tail. Once he got on his back, that horse settled right down to his job. It’s no wonder Mr. Garcia thinks that horse walks on water. He calls him his “caballo de oro” or his horse of gold if I got the translation right. Uncle Mike put him on cows, and he never looked back. He showed him for Mr. Garcia for several years. He was the top Cutting Horse in the nation before Mr. Garcia retired him,” Brody explained.

  “How does Mr. Garcia’s stallion have anything to do with Desert Rose?” Maryann asked him.

  “He doesn’t except for how much alike they are when they are working cows,” Brody explained. “When she picked out her cow, she was the same way as Cutter. They never let the cow go. I think there is something in their stare besides their body posture. Both horses get down on that cow. They spin, twist, head it off, and pin it where it can’t move without ever touching the cow. You need to watch Uncle Mike work in the arena sometime, although you’re probably never going to see a horse do it as well as Cutter or Rosie.”

  “Out of curiosity, what did Rosie’s mother do?” Maryann asked.

  “Rosie’s mother belonged to Mrs. Garcia. She was her personal riding horse. Mrs. Garcia was a lot more timid about riding than her husband, so Aunt Ginny took her time with her and made sure she was well trained, then gave lessons to Mrs. Garcia on her, so she knew as much as the horse did. Aunt Ginny does that. She doesn’t want the horse to go home from school smarter than the owner, as she puts it,” Brody laughed.

  “That makes a lot of sense when you think about it. Why would anyone spend hundreds of dollars training a horse if you don’t know which buttons to push and when to push them when you get the horse back home,” Maryann laughed.

  Brody and Maryann did find the cabin. La Duquesa was reluctant to take the road down to it, and Maryann didn’t want to push her. The two of them stopped the horses at the top of the rise and just looked around from there. Someone had cleaned up the trash around the cabin, the windows looked shut up tight with curtains drawn, the porch was swept off, and it looked ready for a weekend get-away. The corral stood empty. She shuddered thinking about the last time she stood inside it. She was relieved when Maryann turned her away from the cabin, and they walked back to the ranch.

  La Duquesa lost a much-loved owner in that cabin. It left a hole in her heart that would never completely heal. Then she spent several months of daily torment and nearly died in that corral. It was a place she never wanted to visit again. There were too many memories for her there. Now she was happy. She was with the girl she was born to be with. She didn’t like reminders of sad or ugly things from the past.

  “Can I ask you a silly question?” Maryann asked Brody as they walked away from the hilltop on their horses.

  “Sure, ask,” Brody said while looking down the road for their next turn.

  “How come you live with your Aunt and Uncle? Why don’t you live with your parents and where are your parents anyway?”

  “Oh, you don’t know,” Brody sighed. “I’ll give you the short version. My mother was Aunt Ginny’s sister. My mom and dad brought me and my brother and sister to the ranch for Thanksgiving dinner the year I was four. We had a great time. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Mike had all us kids up on horses for rides in the arena before dinner. My sister, I’m told, was a pretty good rider and she loved the horses. My parents couldn’t afford them at the time, but they were saving up so they could buy my sister one. Anyway, we were on our way home when a semi-truck crossed over the center line on the highway and hit our car. My parents died then. My sister died too. My brother and I went to the hospital, and my brother died a few hours later. I was the only one left in my family. Aunt Ginny told me my car seat protected me. Aunt Ginny and Uncle Mike took me home when I got out of the hospital. They became my guardians first, then adopted me. I’m legally their son.”

  “Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry! I didn’t know about your family. I shouldn’t have asked you,” Maryann said feeling foolish for bringing the topic up.

  “Don’t be sorry. It happened a long time ago. I’m just lucky I had a wonderful family to go to. I think of them as parents most of the time. I still call them Aunt Ginny and Uncle Mike because that was what I called them since forever. We talked about it. They don’t mind at all.”

  “Didn’t Aunt Ginny and Uncle Mike have any kids of their own?” Maryann asked.

  “Nope. I don’t know the details, but they couldn’t have any kids. So, they lucked out and got me!” Brody said with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, they got a prize, for sure!” Maryann giggled.

  CHAPTER | SIX

  The four men sat in the living room of the abandoned double-wide mobile home, sitting around the tattered folding table staring at the cell phone. “What are we going to do now?” Wayne whined. “We talked about taking the horse but we never talked about taking hostages with him!”

  “I don’t think they can identify us. They were scared out of their minds, and it was pitch dark out there,” Merle spoke up. “We need to keep them in the dark somehow. We can’t let them see us or identify us.”

  “What do we do about feeding them and getting them to the bathroom and stuff?” asked Pat. “We may have to keep ‘em around for a couple of days, and we’d better have a plan. Or, we could just off ‘em and put them in an old mine shaft out here. They won�
�t be found for years if we do that. They’ll never identify us that way,”

  “Hey, I didn’t sign up for no killin’,” Wayne whined again. “Horse thieving is bad enough, but I don’t wanna get tangled up in killin’!”

  “Keep your shirt on! Nobody said we was goin’ to kill anything. We have to figure out how to handle ‘em until we can cut ‘em loose and get outa here,” Merle said emphatically.

  The men woke about dawn the next morning. Pat started a pot of coffee on the propane stove they’d rigged up and cracked a dozen eggs in a chipped mixing bowl. He peeled potatoes and diced them up with onions while he started frying sausages.

  The other three men made their way into the kitchen for breakfast and fixed two additional plates for their hostages. Three of the men pulled up their bandanas and pulled their hats low on their brows. Two took plates of food and one pulled out his gun. They walked the food to the back bedroom and set the plates down within reach of Paula and John and left the room, closing the door behind them.

  “What time is it?” Pat asked while shoveling eggs and potatoes in his mouth. Merle looked at his watch.

  “’Bout time for the call!” he exclaimed. “It’s 8:30. Someone should have seen the message on the machine by now.”

  *****

  The following morning, when their breakfast time came and went without John or Rhonda delivering their usual hay, Rosie’s mother was concerned. “When are we going to get our breakfast?” she wondered.

  “They’ve been late before when they had something else they needed to take care of first. We’ll see them pretty soon now,” Rosie suggested.

  Rosie spent most of that day watching the caretaker’s house, waiting for either John or Rhonda to come outside. She saw nothing. She was hungry. She’d never gone without food this long before. Her mother was getting impatient as well. The geldings were grumbling.

  “Drink some water. It will fill your belly for now. Be patient. Someone will be along with our feed soon,” Rosie suggested to the other four horses.