The Silken Cord (35 page)

He wasn’t surprised she knew his place. The
community wasn’t large and everyone knew everyone else. So, why
hadn’t he met this woman before? He longed to ask where she’d come
from, but resisted the urge to show any interest.

“My name is Lyn,” she said. “I’m fairly new
in town. Only been here two months, so I haven’t had an opportunity
to meet you, yet.”

“Yeah. Come on. I’ll take you to your
truck.” He removed his foot from the left stirrup and reached out a
hand to help her step up behind him on his horse. His mind kept
repeating her name. Lyn. It suited her. Feminine yet decisive.

“No, thanks. I can walk.”

She limped away and he watched her with a
bit of doubt. Maybe it was for the best. It wouldn’t bode well if
someone saw him riding with a Forest Service employee. He’d never
hear the end of it. Instead, he rode along beside her, just in case
she changed her mind.

“Did you hurt yourself?” He jutted his chin
toward her left ankle.

“Just a sprain. I was out here checking the
damage to the watering hole when I saw the horses. I didn’t expect
Buck to attack me. I’m sure he was still feeling defensive after
his fight with the bachelor stallion. Otherwise, I doubt he would
have bothered with me.”

“Buck?”

“Yeah, that’s what I named the
buckskin.”

Cade’s jaw went slack, but he quickly turned
his face away so she wouldn’t see his surprise. “You actually named
one of the stallions?”

“Uh-huh. I take pictures of all the wildlife
I see out here on the Stokely Ranger District.” She explained about
naming the stallions of each herd so she could keep track of them
in her reports.

“Wait a minute. You’re the new forest
ranger?” He’d heard they were getting a new ranger in town, but had
no idea she’d be a woman, or that she’d care about the wildlife
enough to document them.

“That’s right.” She nodded and smiled
pleasantly.

“Hmm.”

“You don’t sound pleased.”

“I’m just indifferent.” And stunned. A
petite, attractive woman wasn’t his idea of what a forest ranger
ought to look like. In fact, he’d never met a woman ranger before.
Especially not one this pretty. Most of the rangers he’d met were
men with pot guts. Overbellies who wouldn’t listen to reason. At
least not where the wild horses were concerned. Cade wasn’t sure
what to think about this turn of events.

“I suppose you’re planning to round up the
wild horses and take them off the range,” he grumbled.

“Not if I can help it.” She kept her gaze
trained on the rocky ground in front of her.

“What do you mean?”

“I love the wild horses. But I also love the
elk, antelope, big horn sheep, and mule deer. And they need to eat
and drink out here, too.”

“There’s plenty of feed for all the
wildlife,” he said.

She stopped and looked at him squarely,
resting her hands on her slim hips. A blaze of fire sparked in her
eyes. As stunning as the wild mustangs he’d seen minutes earlier.
“No, there’s not. Buck’s herd is starving. They’re too lean, I
could see that with my own eyes. And they’ll soon be out of
water.”

What she said went against everything Cade
had been brought up to believe in. “Bah! The mustangs have been
running wild across this land for centuries. They’ll make do. They
always survive.”

“Yes, but many will die a slow, cruel death.
A lot of elk and deer will suffer the same fate. There isn’t enough
water and feed out here to sustain so many wildlife and domestic
livestock, too.”

He waved a hand. “You’re just another cow
lover. Get rid of all the rancher’s fat cattle and the wildlife
will have enough feed to live on.”

She chuckled, not seeming offended in the
least. “Well, I do enjoy eating a nice steak and hamburger now and
then. But the ranchers are definitely restricted on how many cattle
they can graze on public lands. They don’t take more than their
fair share, believe me. I won’t let them.”

That was just the problem. He didn’t believe
her. “Ma’am, there are more important things out here than the
ranchers and their cattle.”

She brushed her hand across a bushy sage.
“There are miles of sagebrush out here. It’s edible, but provides
very little nourishment for the horses. They need grass. Wild
horses don’t migrate to better areas when food and water runs out.
They just stay here and starve. And please call me Lyn.”

Not if he could help it.

She poked a tuft of Great Basin wheat grass
with the tip of her scuffed boot. “It takes fifty acres of this
kind of land to feed one horse for one month. That doesn’t include
elk and mule deer, nor any cattle either. You can do the math as
easily as I can to figure out how many miles of land are needed to
keep that wild horse herd happy and healthy. But I can tell you
this area can sustain about one hundred and fifty wild horses. We
currently have over four hundred and fifty horses living in and
around this national forest. And that’s too many if we don’t want
to see them starve to death.”

She turned and continued walking. In spite
of his desire not to, he found himself liking the jaunty bounce of
her hair. Spunky and sure of herself. He’d never met anyone like
her.

He flinched when she whirled around and
continued her dialogue.

“And you’re wrong about the cattle. They’re
just as important as the wild horses. Every man, woman and child in
this country needs to eat. And cattlemen make their living by
growing cows. The horses are important. The cows are important. And
so is the other wildlife out here. The issues aren’t easy, but we
need to find ways to make it all work together. And I have some
ideas, if you’d like to hear them….”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand.
“Forget it. I’ve heard it all before and I doubt you have anything
new to add that’ll make a difference to me.”

“Have it your way.” With a simple shrug, she
kept walking. No argument. No blustering anger. She seemed easy
going and laid back. Disarming in her candor. And he couldn’t help
wondering about her ideas. For the first time, he really wanted to
know. But asking her to explain seemed a bit like admitting defeat
right now.

They soon arrived at her truck, her boots
and pant legs covered by a thin sheen of dust. As she unlocked and
opened the door to the driver’s seat, she tilted her head to look
up at him. “We might have conflicting opinions, Cade, but I can
make a big difference here in Stokely. And I intend to do just
that.”

She climbed inside and reached for the
armrest to pull the door closed. Before she did so, she gave him a
smile so bright it made his jaw ache. “Thanks again for all your
help. I appreciate you being so neighborly.”

He nodded once in acknowledgement, his
tongue tied in knots.

As she started the ignition and pulled away,
the tires of her truck bounced over the washboard road. Cade sat
his horse and stared after her, feeling withdrawn and out of sorts.
He didn’t agree with her assessment of the wild horse situation,
and yet he felt as though he’d just been scolded by his mother. In
the nicest way possible.

He’d noticed the growing herds of horses
becoming emaciated. But the beliefs planted in his mind throughout
his childhood were hard to ignore. Wild horses should be left alone
to live in freedom. The government shouldn’t interfere. Right? Of
course right!

Nope, he didn’t like the new forest ranger,
but he also couldn’t deny she seemed to know her business here. He
just wished he didn’t need to have any more dealings with her in
the future. Since he was the wild horse spokesman for the Toyakoi
Shoshone Tribe, Cade figured that wasn’t likely. He frequently
participated in meetings and demonstrations to protect the wild
horses.

Oh, yes. He’d see the new forest ranger
again sometime soon. Much to his regret.

“How’d school go today?” Lyn tightened her
fingers around the steering wheel as she pressed on the break. Her
car came to a halt at the only stop light on Main Street in the
town of Stokely. Population eleven thousand and twenty-three,
including dogs, cats and gophers.

“None of the kids like me.” Kristen’s simple
reply vibrated with hurt and anger.

“I’m sure that’s not true, honey.” Lyn
glanced at her ten year-old daughter who sat next to her, tugging
against her seat belt.

“Yes, it is.”

“It just takes time to get to know everyone
when you’re the new kid in town. Maybe you could invite one of the
girls in your class over to the house to play on Saturday.” Lyn
lightened her voice, trying to sound positive. Trying to encourage
her daughter the only way she knew how.

The stop light turned green and she pressed
on the gas, moving slowly down the street.

“They’ll never like me.” Kristen tugged her
skirt lower across the C-leg prosthetic limb on her right leg, as
though trying to hide as much of the amputation as possible.

Lyn studied her child’s tight profile and
long white-blonde hair. The girl was beautiful. If only the other
children would treat her like a normal kid. But that was just the
problem. Kristen wasn’t normal. And she never would be. “How can
they not like you? They hardly know you yet. We’ve only been here a
couple of months.”

Kristen tapped her knuckles hard against the
socket of the prosthetic limb. “This is all they see, Mom. They
call me peg-leg and gimp.”

Lyn’s heart wrenched. Kids could be so
cruel. If only they’d get to know Kristen, they’d learn what a
smart, sweet girl she was. And so easy to love.

“I hate it here. I want to go home.” Tears
watered Kristen’s voice as she flounced around and glared out the
window.

“We are home, honey.” Lyn wanted to cry too,
but didn’t think that would do Kristen any good. Alone at night in
her dark bedroom, Lyn allowed her emotions to flow across her
pillow. But in the light of day, she must be strong. For both her
and Kristen’s sakes.

“Maybe you could wear blue jeans more
often.” Dresses were easier in case Kristen needed to adjust her
prosthetic limb, but pants hid the apparatus from view.

“It won’t help. I limp and can’t run. They
know something’s wrong with me. They don’t like me.”

Lyn’s heart ached for her daughter. How she
wished she could protect her from this pain. Even if they covered
up the prosthesis, Kristen jerked so hard when she walked that
people frequently stared at her. They knew immediately that the
girl was impaired, but they didn’t understand why. Lyn had even
heard a woman in the grocery store yesterday whisper loudly that
Kristen must be retarded. As if her leg had anything to do with her
brain. In fact, the opposite was true. Kristen pulled top grades in
science and math. If only she could walk better, she might fit in
more.

“Well, I adore you,” Lyn said with a
smile.

“You don’t count, Mom. You have to love me
because I’m your kid.”

Lyn snorted. “If that were true, there’d be
a lot fewer abusive mothers in the world, honey. I love you more
than my own life. And that’s that.”

Kristen tossed her head and huffed out a big
sigh of exasperation. “You just don’t understand.”

Lyn understood more than Kristen realized.
But friends and peer pressure were so important to a young girl.
Especially a girl with only one leg. Moms didn’t count at this
point in life. If only it had been Lyn that had lost her leg in the
accident. Not Kristen. Not her precious little girl.

Pressing on the break again, Lyn came to a
stop sign. A lance of vivid memory pierced her mind. The car crash
had been caused by a drunk driver, now incarcerated in a state
penitentiary. But that wouldn’t restore Kristen’s leg or bring Rob
back. Nor did it ease Lyn’s conscience over her part in what had
happened. Though it’d only been a year earlier, Kristen had been so
young at the time. Only nine years old. They’d both lost the father
and husband they dearly adored.

Rob. The love of Lyn’s life.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. No one
behind her, so she paused long enough to talk with Kristen for a
few moments. Reaching across the seat, Lyn brushed her hand down
the silken length of Kristen’s hair. “I know this is hard, honey.
But you’re so pretty and smart. All your teachers tell me you’re
their best student. You’ve got a lot going for you. We’ve just got
to keep trying.”

Kristen shrugged off Lyn’s hand, her voice
thick with resentment. “You mean I’ve got to keep trying. I’m the
one without a leg, not you. And Daddy’s dead. The only reason I’m a
good student is because I promised him.”

Oh, that hurt. So much that Lyn thought
there must be blood on the floor. Not a day went by that she didn’t
feel guilty for surviving uninjured while her husband had died and
her daughter lost her leg. But Kristen was too young to understand
how much a mother loved her child. Or just how much Lyn missed her
husband.

“I know, honey. Please believe me, if I
could take this pain from you, I would. I just want to help. We
can’t give up. Not ever.”

Lyn might have reached over and hugged
Kristen, but a driver pulled up behind them and blared the horn of
their car. Lyn jerked her head around. Kathy Newton, a woman she’d
recently met at Kristen’s school, waved at them. Returning the
gesture with a plastic smile, Lyn pressed on the gas. Two blocks
later, she turned the corner and parked in front of the doctor’s
office before killing the motor.

“Maybe this new doctor can help you walk
straighter,” Lyn suggested. “Your old doctor highly recommended
him.”

A prosthesis specialist in such a small town
was rare. Apparently this doctor was a former U.S. marine. Lyn had
been told that he’d seen several of his buddies lose their limbs
during the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan that he’d done a lot of
work in the field of prosthetics. And that was good for
Kristen.