Calico Horses and the Patchwork Trail (22 page)

“Okay, yep, I understand. No, I perfectly agree. Sure thing,” he said. “I’ll tell them, and thanks again for calling.” Devon turned, bumping into Milla. Each girl waited and held her breath. So many things were racing in their heads. Was it Mrs. Burke? Was it about Hope? Was it good news or bad?

“Geez, Milla, give me some breathing room, will ya?” said Devon.

“Sorry, Dad,” Milla said as she backed up.

“That was Anne. The foal made it through the night but she’s still very weak. It sounds as if it’s showing some signs of improvement. Anne said she’s nursing from a bottle and was finally able to stand up.”

“Alright!” said Milla, jumping up and down.

“Yes!” said Carrie, joining her. The girls smacked hands as Milla did a little dance.

“Well, hold on. She’s not out of the woods yet and it’s still early, but Anne knew you were waiting by the phone. She’ll call me with another update later this afternoon.” Milla and Carrie gave each other a quick hug. It was good news and they felt relieved.

“I’m leaving for work soon and we need a game plan. Carrie, have you spoken with your mom yet?”

“I’ll call her now,” Carrie said. Devon tossed the “Hidden Valley Horse & Art Camp” flyer across the table to Milla. “What’d ya think?” he asked.

“Can I?” asked Milla, astonished.

“Absolutely, you can register today. You could probably teach
them
art.” He laughed. “And I know you’ll learn a lot about horses from Anne’s team.”

“I’m not
that
good, Dad, and if it’s an Art Camp they probably have a teacher as talented as Grandma.”

“Even better!” he replied.

Carrie came back as Devon grabbed his keys and hat. “My mom said I can either stay here or she’ll come pick us up and we can hang at our place. ”

“I’ll get my stuff,” Milla said and ran to her room.

“Get an overnight bag, too,” Carrie added.

A short time later they were in Brenda’s car driving to the B&B. “All I’m saying is that you have to stick with it,” Brenda said, handing the flyer back to Carrie. “Remember Girl Scouts?”

“That’s not fair, Mom. You don’t like it when Pop-pop reminds you of the time you quit softball.”

“Okay, okay, you made your point,” Brenda said. “I think this camp will be perfect for you. I just want you to take it seriously.” Carrie patted Flannel and smiled across the backseat to Milla, who sent her a thumbs-up sign.

They arrived at the B&B to find Max lounging on the front porch. Flannel began to growl. “Snap” went the leash onto Flannel’s collar. The car door opened and a whoosh of orange flew past them. “Come on, girl,” Carrie said, tugging at Flannel’s leash. Brenda shot Carrie a warning look and Carrie returned it with a nod. The last thing anyone wanted was more cat-dog drama.

Carrie and Milla wanted fresh air so they headed down the trail leading away from the B&B, leaving Flannel to bark at them through the window. The morning sun was already hot. They sipped water to stay hydrated and hiked along the uneven path. Carrie told Milla all about the long drive from New Jersey to Nevada. Milla said she had never been anywhere other than Arizona, except the time she went to California, but she was only five and barely remembered it. Carrie was shocked that Milla had never been to a beach. Milla was surprised that Carrie had never seen a mountain.

“I can’t imagine not waking up and looking at the Calico Mountains,” said Milla.

Carrie halted in her tracks and her face looked serious. “What did you call them?”

“Calico Mountains—that’s their name. They’re called that because of how colorful they are, see?” she said pointing to the range. Carrie stood looking at the mountains as if seeing them for the first time.

“They’re really amazing,” she said. “I guess I never knew they had a name.”

“All mountains have names, just like oceans and rivers, I guess,” Milla said. As the girls continued walking up the trail, Milla pointed out different wildlife that lived in the area. Carrie barely listened as she was still in a fog about what she had just learned. She thought back to her many dreams of glittering water and calico fabric. Did it mean anything? I need to read my journal, she thought. I know I have lots of notes about my dreams. Milla was chattering away about sagebrush and other desert plants and Carrie smiled, pretending she was listening. A tiny rodent quickly darted in front of them with its tail held straight up like a flag.

“Kangaroo rat,” said Milla.

“Yuck,” Carrie said.

“Coyote’s lunch,” smiled Milla. Carrie quickly looked around checking to see if a pack of wild coyotes was nearby. “It’s safe, don’t worry,” Milla said, “but I think this is as far as we should go.”

“Can’t we go see the mountains?”

“They look close enough to get to them, Carrie, but they’re really far away.”

“Oh,” Carrie muttered, hoping Milla didn’t think she sounded stupid. What a dumb question, she thought to herself.

“I used to beg my grandma all the time and once my dad drove me out there in a jeep. It took forever and I think he did it to shut me up. I never asked him to take me again,” she laughed.

The two girls stopped to sit down on a large rock. “Tomorrow is the 4th of July,” Milla said. “ I sorta don’t even like holidays anymore.”

“How come?” asked Carrie, not sure how she herself felt about holidays.

“My grandmom died last August and she and I did everything together. It just doesn’t feel the same anymore. I used to love going to see the fireworks with her, but now I’m not sure I even want to go.”

“Where do they set them off?” asked Carrie. “I used to always go to the boardwalk but now, well…”

“We always drove to Reno. Grandma, Dad, and I always took fun snacks and we had this special spot where we would park and sit and watch the fireworks all by ourselves. No crowds—just the three of us.”

Carrie kicked her foot against the rock and looked back at the B&B. She wasn’t in the mood to celebrate any holidays without her dad or her grandparents, or Shannon. It was hard to imagine any event without them. She looked up at Milla, who was fiddling with her water bottle. “So will you just skip it, then?” asked Carrie.

Milla shrugged and looked away. “All the holidays are the same now. My dad tries to make me happy and I try to make him smile and by the end of the night we barely speak to each other. I wish we could just skip over them and pretend they weren’t even on the calendar.”

Carrie thought that sounded odd. How could anyone pretend a holiday wasn’t on the calendar? “What do you mean, like just erase the day?” she asked.

“We may as well. We do a pretty bad job of pretending they’re fun,” replied Milla.

“Maybe you could just make it different,” Carrie said. “Maybe instead of the usual fireworks, you and your dad could do something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, maybe have an un-fireworks day. Maybe you just hang out and turn off all the lights and have candles and tell stories. Who knows? But maybe you can just make it something for you and your dad instead of what you always did with your grandma.”

“I doubt if my dad would go for blackouts and candles, but I bet if I asked him to take me camping he would. Lots of people around here go camping on July 4th. Hey, let’s ask him to take us!” Milla said, jumping up.

Carrie thought of her own father and how much she missed him. Phone calls were awkward and they always ended too soon. Maybe Milla should go alone with her dad and she should stay with her mom. “Don’t you just want to go hang out with your dad alone?” asked Carrie.

“No, it would be way more fun if you came,” Milla replied. “I’m alone with my dad every day, just like you’re with your mom.” Carrie could see her point. She loved her mom and all, but it was nice having Milla around for a change—just to break up the silence.

On their way back the two girls planned everything they would be doing on their Un-4th of July camping trip. They had it all worked out and were excited to start gathering camping supplies and games and all of the things kids needed when they slept in a tent under the stars. They each had scary ghost stories they wanted to share and Milla said she could teach Carrie about star constellations. It would be so wonderful and new and something neither of them had ever done before. They raced back to the B&B. Getting it all packed up and making the arrangements was the easy part. Getting Milla’s dad talked into it…well, that would take some magic.

Chapter 39

Calico Horses Round-up Gets Thumbs Up Amidst Outcry

Saddlecrest, Nevada – Animal rights activists are lashing out at plans to remove 300 wild horses from the Calico range. The BLM has gained approval to offer the horses for adoption. Those too old or considered unadoptable will be sent to long-term holding facilities in the Midwest, where they can live for decades.

Spokesman Frank Merrill in Washington, D.C., said the BLM has approval under federal law to remove horses to support the health of herds, lands, and wildlife. “There’s nothing new in their arguments. They oppose the horse gathers, period,” Merrill said of the activists. “If we did it their way the horse population would explode. That would destroy the range.”

Kathy Parkins, director of Save Our Mustangs, disagrees. “The favoritism they show to cattle and sheep is shocking,” she said. “It’s time to give wild horses a fair share of our public rangelands.”

Activists also claim the Calico horse round-ups involving helicopters have caused too many deaths in the past and should be stopped immediately.

Devon tossed the newspaper into the trash and heaved a heavy sigh. He didn’t need to read a newspaper to learn of public opinion. He put his hat on and headed out to check on the horses. He enjoyed the time spent with the animals and worked hard to try and manage the many horses that came through the Painted Ridge gates. One of the workers had seen something unusual and had asked him to come take a look. He waved to Walt, who was standing near a young stallion.

“Hey, Walt. Is this the horse?” asked Devon, walking slowly toward the trembling horse.

“This is one of the horses that came in a few weeks ago,” Walt said. “I’ve already called the vet. Ben said there’s four more out back that are wheezing and they all have fever. He’s already separated them.”

“Looks like the start of a respiratory illness,” Devon said, shaking his head. “We need to vaccinate the entire lot.”

Walt shook his head. “Great way to celebrate the 4th, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, the holiday. Well, it looks like we’re going to be busy taking care of sick horses. Let me know when the docs get here, will you? I’d better start making some calls.” He walked back to his office.

Devon and his staff were no strangers to the unexpected ailments that sometimes passed through the herd. Large numbers of animals placed together in one area spread illness much like people did in crowds. It was a dangerous time for the horses and burros and everyone would have to work harder. The entire Painted Ridge Adoption Center needed to be vaccinated. It didn’t matter if they were sick or healthy. No horses could come in or go out and all adoptions were immediately on hold. Devon spent most of the morning making arrangements and speaking with other facilities to inform them of the situation.

He was just hanging up when his co-worker, Brit, said, “Anne Burke called to let you know that the foal is in stable condition…and Line 3 is holding for you.”

“Well, that’s good news. Please get a number, Brit, and I’ll have to call them back,” he said as he picked up the phone to make another call.

“It’s Milla on the line,” Brit said. “Should I have her call you back?”

“No, I’ll take it.” He picked up the phone. “Hi, Milla, I’m kinda busy. Can I call you back?”

“Dad, Dad—Carrie and I have the greatest, most awesome idea,” she said breathlessly.

“Milla, not now, I’m really busy here and I have to go.”

“But, Dad, it’s about July 4th,” she said.

“July 4th is cancelled for the Spencer family. I’ll call you later. I really have to go now. Please tell Mrs. Anderson I’ll let her know when I can pick you up. Sorry, Mil. Love you, bye.”

A few hours passed and Devon reached for some aspirin. “Brit, I’m taking a break from the phones. Just make a list of who I need to call back,” he said. Brit picked up one of the many ringing lines and waved Devon out the door. He returned to the corrals. Sanitizing the entire facility was impossible. It was a painstaking task to try and control an area where a thousand horses lived. The immune systems differed greatly among the wild horses. Vaccines were not a guarantee and only time would tell how effective all of their precautions had been. Devon checked on the staff and spoke with several of the vets. Instructions were passed among his wranglers about the most severe cases and Devon walked back to his office to tackle the other jobs that needed his immediate attention.

Brit looked up as Devon came through the door and held up a finger. She covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “It’s Milla—she’s called several times.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll speak to her,” he said, slightly annoyed. He sat down and tossed his hat toward a peg. It missed and he watched it fall into the trash.

“Hi, Mil,” he said.