The never-ending breeze pushes through, and I wait until at last she’s able to sit up, touching her eyes with her fingertips. I cup her cheeks and move my thumbs along the line of her jaw, smiling as I blink away the haze in my own eyes.
She clears her throat, and her gaze returns to the headstone. “After it happened, I wanted to get away from you and all of the pain of this place as fast as I could.”
Her words tear at the freshly healed wound in my chest. “I’ll spend my life making it up to you. I—”
“No,” she lunges forward, holding my face in her hands. “I expected you to be stronger than you were. I expected you not to hurt as much as I did. Will you forgive me? We never had a chance to grieve together.”
Reaching for her waist, I pull her onto my lap and hold her close. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
My Mariska. She knows me so well. She always has. She always knows what to say to heal the pain I can’t show. She holds me now soothing my guilt with words of understanding and pure love.
Her arms are around me, and we melt into each other. Our hearts move together, and we find a place of peace on the other side of this storm.
25
Home
Mariska
The noise of Scout’s hoof beats mixes with the roar of the wind as we ride in a full gallop across the prairie. Overnight packs are strapped to our saddles, and Stuart is on Freckles, letting her stretch her legs and work out her nerves.
Cold air races us across the open prairie, bringing frigid temperatures and the last chance we’ll have to camp out in the cabin before the heavy snows start. I’ve been in school at the University of Great Falls one month, and I love my classes.
It’s amazing to think I might never have found my new course of study if we hadn’t come here. I’ve always been interested in healing and art, but I never considered combining the two. I’m completely consumed by my work, and Stuart is in heaven being back on the ranch. We’ve reached a place of contentment and deep satisfaction in our life together.
I don’t like thinking about the days we were apart. I was so lost and alone, even more so because of how close we’d been. Still, like a bone, we’re so much stronger because of our break. I’m distracted, considering all these things, when I see Stuart pulling Freckles to a halt. I tighten my stomach muscles and do the same, and following his gaze, my heart stops when I see her.
The little grey horse—Jessie is standing near a clump of trees watching us, not moving. I would recognize her anywhere with her shadow-black muzzle and the little moon in the center of her forehead.
My eyes fly to Stuart’s, and he glances at me. Freckles shakes her head and nickers, and she seems to recognize her runaway foal as well. My heart beats so fast it hurts, and I’m surprised by how much I want her back. I don’t want to do anything to scare her away. My insides pull to this little horse, and I remember crying to Sylvia in the hospital, It wasn’t her fault. She was so afraid.
I don’t want her to be out here wild and running, an easy target for a predator or worse, falling and being injured, suffering alone until she dies.
I watch Stuart as he watches Jessie, and I can’t help remembering how he tried to kill her. “What can we do?” I whisper.
“I don’t have any rope or anything to use as a lasso. We’re going to have to let her go and see if we can find her later or see if she comes back around.”
“Do you think she will?” I’m so happy he understands without me having to explain how much this means to me.
I’m desperate to do anything to catch her, yet at the same time, I remember how new she was to us. She had only just started coming around when the accident occurred. First I fainted, falling off the gate and causing Stuart to panic, which startled her. Then Amy and I scared her in the barn, and finally the gunshot. It would be a miracle if she ever came back at all.
“I don’t know.” Stuart looks at the reins he’s holding. “Winter’s coming. It’s not good for her to be out here alone.”
The little horse stays at the tree line watching us, and we continue on to the cabin, keeping her in sight. By the time we reach our destination, she’s gone, and we can only unpack and go inside.
Sliding down from Scout, I pause a moment, holding the Palomino’s saddle. My head is light, and I feel suddenly weak.
“You okay?” Stuart is at my side.
I nod and smile reassuringly. “Too much excitement, I guess.”
“I’ll get the fire going.”
We brought kindling for a campfire, an Indian blanket, and suits for swimming. I unpack the dinner Winona prepared for us and think about how kind she’s been since we arrived. I’d worried she might resent Stuart and me coming in because of our age or because we’re not Bill. I worried she might not like the change. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
She has embraced us like a grandmother, and I guess she feels that way toward Stuart, since he’s been coming here since he was a teenager. I learned she’s Chippewa-Cree, and I can’t wait to get to know her better, see if we share any gifts.
When I went back to Bayville, my faith was shaken. I had lost my baby, my family, and I lost my ability to believe. Now I’ve gotten almost all of those things back again, and as we were packing, Stuart found a letter to me from my Yaya.