Part 18 (2/2)
”Yes, sir.”
The sheriff threw her an approving look for her son's manners. If only he knew it was a habit born of fear, not courtesy. He leaned down, picked Harry up and settled him into the saddle, then walked the pony, his right hand securely on the reins.
She could hear the sheriff talking to her son. ”Relax but straighten your back. Move with the horse.”
The smile left her son's face, replaced by a look of total concentration. He so obviously wanted to do well. After about twenty minutes, the sheriff handed the reins to her son but walked alongside, his hand on the bridle. For a moment, her mouth went dry, but Harry's expression was a combination of joy and pride. He loved it.
The sheriff stopped and lifted Harry down. Her son stumbled a moment, then looked up at her, beaming.
”Thank you, Sheriff,” she said.
”Doug,” he corrected.
She wasn't sure whether she wanted first-name intimacy. But she nodded.
”Now you,” he said. ”Jenny and Russ will be busy for another hour. There's a creek not far away.”
”But Harry ...” She almost said 'Mikey', but stopped just in time.
”He can ride in front of me,” Doug said. ”Russ has a mare called Miss Mary.” He grinned. ”She's a perfect lady ... just right for you.”
Was he implying that she was a perfect lady? If he only knew...
'Run. Run like the devil is after you.'
But instead she nodded. She waited as he went into the barn.
”Did you see me?” Harry asked. ”I was riding all by myself.”
”I saw,” she said. ”I was amazed.”
He grinned. ”I like it here, Mommy.”
”I do, too.”
”I wish Father could have seen me.”
Her heart skipped a beat. What if he had said that in front of the sheriff?
She looked down at her suddenly clammy hands. Would the fear and doubt never end? How could she possibly think she could live a normal life or provide one for Harry when she panicked over every word, every question, every answer she could not give?
Sheriff Menelo returned, leading two horses. One was a bay, tall and obviously anxious for the ride. The other was a smaller horse, a chestnut mare. More delicate, if you could call a quarter horse delicate. Yet that was the word for her. Miss Mary. A perfect lady.
Doug tied his horse's reins to a post, then helped her up into the saddle. ”Just relax,” he said as he showed her how to hold the reins. ”She'll do all the work.”
He put Harry on his horse and swung up easily behind him. Very easily and very gracefully for such a big man. He directed the horse toward the dirt road, then looked at her. ”Are you okay?”
She was and she wasn't. The new Holly--no, Liz now-- loved the horse, the company, the day. The old Holly kept warning her to be careful.
”Have you known Russ long?” she asked Doug.
”We went to high school together. Bisbee High.”
”Friends?”
”We played football together. He was a quarterback and I was a tackle but neither of us was good enough to get a scholars.h.i.+p. He went to the rodeo and I went to the army.”
”And you've remained friends all these years?”
”Pretty much,” he said.
Despite her fears, Doug Menelo was an easy companion. He did not demand conversation. Nor did he try to pry.
The sky was as pure a blue as she could remember and she enjoyed the heat of the sun. She tried not to think of the future or the past, even as she knew the latter was never going away and the former was perilous.
But she wouldn't allow those thoughts to spoil this afternoon.
Doug guided his horse toward her and motioned to the left, where golden flowers colored the starkly beautiful desert. ”Mexican gold poppies,” he said.
”I know,” she said. ”I've been reading about the desert.”
”Hmm. Does that mean you're staying?”
”It means I haven't been here before and I'm curious.”
”Do you like Bisbee?”
”It's hard not to like it. It has character.”
”Have you been to Ramsey Canyon?”
”Ramsey Canyon?”
”It's not far from here. It's a preserve, and they have hundreds of hummingbirds. Jenny loves it.”
”I'll have to take Harry there,” she said.
She knew she was precluding the invitation he'd probably meant to issue. She regretted it. More than regretted it. She liked Doug Menelo. She liked him very much. She liked the way he appreciated his surroundings and the gentleness he demonstrated with his niece and her son. He was a man meant to have children. She wondered why he didn't.
If he was anyone but who he was, she might have even taken a chance in building a friends.h.i.+p with him. But a sheriff? Eventually he would want more information. More answers. More answers than she could ever give him. And she could never forget she had a husband.
They stopped at a creek bed. Although it was dry now, cottonwoods had soaked up enough moisture to flourish. They contrasted with the cactus and the landscape that rose up to meet the sky.
”Want to get down?” Doug asked her.
”If I can get back up again.”
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