On the Friday after Joy's encounter with Walker, she was trotting Murphy along the Oregon Trail on the Jeromes' land one last time to say goodbye to the history she had felt there. Instead of allowing herself to think about the intensity of Walker's kisses and caresses, something she thought about all the time, she focused on the pioneers who had traveled the trail. So far, she considered her wagon train painting to be her best creation. She'd completed it only a week earlier and now envisioned it in her mind—splashes of light fanning out from a dozen lanterns hanging from prairie schooners encamped around a center campfire of men, women, and children sharing the day's events in a comradery forged from months of traveling together.
Jake had taught her much about the early pioneers, having learned from his father and stepmother. And, to Joy's delight, two weeks previous, he and Pauline had driven her to his family's old homestead several miles outside Oregon City to meet his parents.
Cooper and Hallie Jerome were in their eighties, with Cooper pushing ninety. Jake had explained that arthritis and other age-related ailments kept his father close to home, but that Hallie remained active on their farm. He proudly related that her farming skills were legendary throughout Oregon.
At the farm, Jake introduced Joy to Benjamin and Blaze Wells, twin grandchildren of his stepbrother Tim. He also introduced Selena Keith, the granddaughter of his half sister, Maddie. He explained that the young adults had decided to live with their great-grandparents, not only because of their love for them, but to keep the farm going. He said that although they tilled fewer acres now, the produce was still legendary for its size and quality.
Also living on the homestead with them was a lovely lady who looked to be a few years younger than Hallie, but whose health was very poor. Before entering her bedroom for an introduction, Jake had said softly that she was bedridden most of the time. He had explained, "When Clarissa's health became so bad she was housebound, she sold a lucrative business in Pendleton with the intention of moving into a nursing home, but it was Hallie's insistence that brought her to the farm to live out her days among friends."
His words about a friendship that profound had put a lump in Joy's throat.
Hallie had led the way into the room. "Joy, I'd like you to meet my dear friend Clarissa Smith. We met on the Oregon Trail under, shall we say, strange circumstances."
Clarissa replied in a fragile voice, "Hallie's being discreet. I was a fancy gal with an eye for Cooper."
Joy's eyes widened.
Clarissa giggled like a young girl before lapsing into a spasm of coughing. When she was finally able to talk again, her voice sounded breathless. "But Cooper only had eyes for Hallie, even though me and the other ladies did our best to capture his attention." She paused and smiled sweetly. "He made the right choice."
Hallie sat in a chair beside Clarissa's bed and invited Joy to sit on the opposite side. Jake left the room to visit with his father. When Hallie and Clarissa began reminiscing life on the trail, Joy became transfixed. It was then that the inspiration for another painting was birthed. She would paint this bedroom scene to the exact detail—two elderly women, one bedridden and dying, the other sitting beside her friend holding her hand and chatting about fifty years of memories. That painting would also be added to her Lest We Forget collection.
For Joy, the day spent at Cooper and Hallie's farm became a precious memory to be reflected upon over her own lifetime.
Now, riding along the trail, she thought about the love that still simmered between Hallie and Cooper and it reminded her of the relationship her Grammy Abby and Grandpa Brant had had. Joy decided that she would never marry unless she could have that kind of relationship—a relationship built on trust and love; a relationship that would last throughout eternity. She sighed at the poetic nature of her thoughts.
Joy patted Murphy's neck. "Hey, boy, look at that stretch of road. Do you feel like galloping?"
The horse snorted, dipped his head as if to say yes, and Joy laughed aloud. "Oh Murphy, I'm going to miss you so much!"
To keep melancholy thoughts at bay, Joy slapped Murphy's rump and yelled, "Let's fly!"
At her command, the gelding sprinted with the wind and the thrill of the ride blinded Joy to anything but the cerulean sky with darkening clouds, mossy pines whizzing past, and Murphy's powerful stride. The ride was exhilarating but ended far too soon because the stretch of cleared road was short. Again, she was under a roof of trees. Murphy snorted as if in disgust at the briefness of the ride and Joy said, "I know. I know. When we get back to the pasture I'll let you run again."
Dismounting, she led Murphy to a tree and then sat at its base. The melancholia she'd pushed aside, now reasserted itself and she leaned her head against the bark of an Oregon ash and closed her eyes. On Monday she was leaving. Would she ever see Walker or Misty or Jake or Pauline again, or any of the many friends she'd made in Oregon City? Her throat constricted from the lump that had formed. She should be elated to return home, but she wasn't. She missed her family, of course, but something deep had formed within her breast. She loved Walker with the kind of love her grammy had for her grandfather, the kind of love Hallie Jerome had for her husband Cooper, the kind of love her mother had for her father. But obviously he didn't love her. When he'd driven her back to the Jeromes, he'd opened her car door and said low so Misty couldn't hear, "I'm sorry, Joy. I don't know what else to say. I lost my head. I…I'll see you on Sunday."
As if in concert with her sadness, the air darkened and she opened her eyes. The clouds had become ominous. "Looks like a storm's brewing, Murphy. We better head back before we're drenched."
Murphy lazily lifted his head and she reached in her pocket for a sugar treat. He blew in her face and then placed soft lips against her palm to gobble his snack. Joy stood, hugged Murphy's neck, and then mounted. Returning to the trail, she traveled only as fast as was safe; however, when she reached the clear stretch of road, she loosened the reins and allowed Murphy to again gallop. They had almost reached the trees on the other side when a bolt of lightning pierced the sky and cracked the air with a boom that scared even Joy. Nearby, the noise of a splitting tree was loud, and coupled with another bolt and boom, the sight and sound was too much for Murphy and he reared upward. Joy held on and yelled comforting words, and just when she thought she'd settled him down, another lightning strike flashed and the accompanying thunder was ear shattering. Murphy reared again, this time toppling Joy to the ground. She landed with a thud and had the air knocked out of her.
Quite unexpectedly, hands touched her and a voice yelled, "Goddamn horse! I should have shot him when I had the chance! He's not fit to live!"
Joy finally sucked a breath into her hurting lungs and jerked her eyes open. Walker was kneeling beside her. She just stared into eyes made dark with an emotion that could have been hatred. He said in a commanding voice, "Don't move until I can feel for broken bones."
She nodded her understanding. Confused by his words about Murphy, she studied his face. Slowly, her breathing became normal. The lightening and thunder had moved farther away, but now rain began sprinkling them.
Walker finished his examination. "I don't think you've broken anything. Why don't you move your arms and legs, slowly at first?"
Joy did as he requested and saw relief replace his former anger. She was just about to ask him to help her up when he reached under her arms and legs and lifted her against his chest.
The rain began pelting them as he headed for the cover of trees. Gently, he set her on the ground under a fir tree and said, "I'll be right back."
Joy watched him run to Jake's mare, grab the reins, and lead the beast toward the trees. He secured the animal several feet away and then returned to her. He removed his cowboy hat, ran a hand through his hair, and squatted in front of her. "I wish I had a blanket to cover you with."
She said, "I'm really all right." The rain was coming down in a steady stream, but the forest canopy kept all but a few plops from landing on her. The frown on her face deepened. "What did you mean you should have shot Murphy?" She studied Walker's eyes. He returned her stare and his next words shocked her beyond speech.
"Murphy was the horse that killed my wife."
Time seemed to stand still with only the sound of rain breaking the silence.
Still holding her gaze, Walker said, "After my wife's funeral, I was leading Murphy into the forest to shoot him when Jake stopped me. He wanted to purchase him. I agreed." Walker picked up a stone and tossed it. "When I saw you lying on the ground, I wished I'd shot him."
Walker's confession was too much for Joy and she jumped to her feet. "I can't believe you never told me he was the horse your wife was riding. I thought we were friends and something like that should be shared. When I think of all the times I praised Murphy to you…and how you must have felt, it makes me ill!" She paused to catch her breath and then finished with, "And Jake was right to stop you."
Joy's emotional overload was now such that she couldn't remain still. Without considering her recent fall or Walker's concern, she turned and ran into the forest. Walker called her name, but she ignored him. He had lied to her, not outright, but by omission. She wasn't important enough for him to share something so…important. And that's what hurt the most. Her girlish fantasies had envisioned him falling in love with her, but this omission proved how silly her imaginings were. The fact that she was leaving in a few days and he hadn't asked her to extend her stay, brought a sob from the depths of her heart and her cry echoed in the forest.