True Colors

“What would you say? Walk away? Just give up and let your dad rot in there alone?” Winona knew the minute she said it she’d gone too far. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“You’re always sorry lately.” Vivi Ann released a heavy sigh. “Do you think I don’t dream of going back in time, of standing beside him?”

“I know you do.”

“Part of me is grateful I didn’t get to talk to him in court that day. How could he ever forgive me?”

“He loves you,” Winona said.

Vivi Ann flinched at that, but like a fighter taking a blow, she kept moving. “He’s in there and you and I and Noah are out here. That’s the way it is. The way it’s going to be.”

Winona could tell what was coming and she shook her head, as if the movement could deflect incoming words.

“I’m here to tell you what you once told me: it’s time to let go. The DNA test was a good move, and you took it and it failed. We both know it was all over for Dallas years ago. It doesn’t matter whose DNA was left behind.”

“I can’t—” Winona stopped suddenly. She looked up at Vivi Ann. “What did you say?”

“It’s time to let go. It doesn’t matter whose DNA it was.”

“Jesus,” Winona said, rushing back to her desk. She began pawing through the paperwork, looking for the DNA lab work. Finding it, she grabbed the file and then pulled Vivi Ann into her arms, kissing her hard on the lips. “You’re a genius.”

“What—”

“I’ve got to go. Thanks for stopping by. Tell Noah I’ll come visit this weekend.”

“Are you hearing me? I’m trying to help you.”

“And I’m trying to help you,” Winona said, and then ran out of her office.

“Gus tells me Noah is a crappy employee,” Dad said to Vivi Ann as they stood near each other on the porch on a cool September morning. Dawn was breaking across the ranch, setting the arena’s metal roof on vibrant silver fire.

“He’s having some trouble dealing with all this. He really thought Winona was going to get Dallas released.”

“Winona,” Dad said, and Vivi Ann heard the poison tip to his voice. Had it always been there when he mentioned his eldest daughter? The more she saw of him lately, the farther she pulled back. She could go whole days without talking to him at all. It wasn’t that she was angry with him; quite the contrary. But now that she’d seen the bitterness inside him, she had trouble seeing past it.

She looked up and saw Noah come out of their cottage. He moved down the hill in that lanky, loose-hipped way that always reminded her of Dallas. Her son was growing by leaps and bounds. Since his fifteenth birthday, he’d begun to look down on her—when he looked at her at all. Up on the hill, he walked over to the paddock, stood at the rail.

Renegade turned to face him, whinnying, but he didn’t move forward, even though Noah was offering him a carrot.

“Ain’t never seen a horse turn down food,” her dad said.

“Some hearts can be broken,” Vivi Ann said, hurting for her son, knowing what he needed right now . . . knowing that she couldn’t provide it. No mother should ever have to feel so helpless with her child. She pushed away from the wall and headed for the steps.

It was time to say to Noah what she’d said to Winona.

“I’m taking a day off, Dad.”

“What about your lessons?”

“I only have a few. I’ll cancel.” Without waiting for his permission, or even his agreement, she muttered goodbye and walked up the hill, through the dewy grass. Tucking her work gloves into her belt, she came up beside Noah.

“How do we tell him Dad won’t be coming back?”

Vivi Ann stroked her son’s silky black hair. “I think if Renegade knew that, he’d lie down and die.”

“I know how he feels.”

Vivi Ann stood there with her son, staring at the black horse. The white lines of his long-ago abuse were faded, visible only if you knew where to look. Scars were like that, she thought; they faded but never went away completely. “Get your coat. We’re leaving now.”