mother had given this watch to her father. Aside from her own wedding band, it was Gabrielle’s single most treasured possession.
Closing her eyes, Gabrielle sighed, conjuring the image of the photograph of her mother, Leah. No matter where they’d lived, it had been on Gabrielle’s bedside table—full color, eight inches by ten.
When she was a little girl, Gabrielle had often made her father tell the story of the day he’d taken that picture. Her parents had been on their honeymoon, traveling the west coast highways, when Leah spotted a rainbow.
“She nearly gave me a black eye, pointing at the thing,” Jared had said, laughing softly at the memory. “So I parked our car there on that country road, and stood her beside the fence.”
It was waist high and made of gray rocks and stones. Jared told his daughter how he’d picked Leah up and perched her on that wall and said, “Smile pretty for me now….”
Gabrielle could almost touch the photo, the memory was so clear: her mother, knees bent and legs hugged to her chest, head tilted ever so slightly, love for her new husband radiating from her smile, from her pale gray eyes, her image haloed by a wide-arched, six-color rainbow that touched the ground at both ends.
The pounding in Gabrielle’s head made her forget the picture and the watch. She’d fallen before, but she’d never experienced pain like this, and it was beginning to frighten her.
“…and that’s how I got this scar alongside my jaw,” Troy was saying. “Horse with a temperament just like that Triumph’s. Belongs in a rodeo, not on a ranch,” he said again.
Gabrielle smiled weakly, grateful that Troy had happened along. She’d never minded being alone in the wilderness during the daytime, because Drew had drummed into her head how to survive, should she ever be stranded out here. She’d been a good student and had learned how to build a roaring fire even from damp wood, how to tell edible berries from the poisonous kind, how to construct a lean-to of sorts from the branches of blue spruce as protection from the elements. In the bright light of day, she was as brave as any man.
But when the sun slid behind Granite Peak like a giant gold coin disappearing into a slot, Gabrielle’s bravado faded, and she quaked with terror of the unseen…and the unknown.
“There’s nothing in the dark that isn’t in the light,” Drew had said time and again. He’d intended his words to comfort and console her, to eradicate her fears—and she loved him for that. But as the old folks liked to say, her daddy didn’t raise a fool. She knew full well what lurked deep in the brush: creatures of every sort and size, some predators, others prey—each with its own instinctive need to survive. And Gabrielle had no desire to be the meal that quenched a hungry appetite.
As if in answer to a prayer she hadn’t even said, her mother’s sweet face appeared in her mind’s eye, and Gabrielle couldn’t help but smile.
She was now the proud owner of the few pieces of jewelry that had belonged to her mother. Costume stuff, mostly, that Leah had collected in the cities and towns the little family visited. But the watch…the watch had been special.
According to her father, her mother had cut out coupons and saved every extra penny from her grocery money to buy it. She’d wrapped it in blue tissue, tied it up with a white satin bow, and given it to Jared on the night Gabrielle was born. To count every precious minute with our first-born, said the inscription on the back. Her father’s stories described character traits, habits, even minor flaws that defined Leah Lafayette, the woman he’d chosen as his wife. But the watch told Gabrielle something about the woman who had been her mother, the woman who’d suffered silently to satisfy the whims of the man she loved. A man with wanderlust.
How many times had Leah said that the braided leather watchband was every bit as sturdy and strong as her marriage to Jared? Too many to count, Gabrielle thought. Glancing at that band, now wrapped loosely around her own slender wrist, she understood better than ever how lucky she’d been to find a man like Drew, a man who wrested strength from the land, who loved having roots in one place for all time.
A sob ached in her throat as she looked again at the shattered glass that had protected the watch face, at the torn plaits of the braided brown band. First thing tomorrow, she’d take it to town and have it repaired.
She tried her best to remember the fall that had broken her treasure, straining her aching brain for a scrap of memory…anything that would help her understand why she hadn’t recognized the danger ahead. She had ridden the river’s edge before, had encountered rattlesnakes plenty of times. But she’d always managed to keep control of Molly, or Triumph, or whatever horse she’d been riding.
Why not this time?
She was achy and tired, and more than a little afraid. All Gabrielle wanted right now was to get home and fall into Drew’s arms, where she’d always found such comfort.
“Well, missy, here you are,” Troy announced, interrupting her thoughts. “Drew’s in the barn. Want me to fetch him?”
The truck ground to a halt as she struggled to remember what Drew had told her earlier that morning. “No, no,” she began haltingly, “I think he said something about fixing the back fences today.”
The cowboy frowned. “Back fences? What about the rest of the hands?”
“Drew gave them the day off, so they could go into Livingston for Oktoberfest.”
“Oktoberfest? But that was two weeks ago—”
She didn’t understand why the usually talkative cowboy suddenly clamped his jaws together, seemingly feigning interest in his pocket watch.
“You reckon it’s such a good idea, you bein’ here alone in the shape you’re in? Maybe I oughta sit with you, just ’til Drew gets in from—” his frown deepened as he looked toward the barn “—from, ah, mendin’ fences?”
Forcing a smile, Gabrielle said, “That isn’t necessary, but I appreciate the offer, just the same.” She opened the passenger door. “I’m fine. Really.” She patted his hand as if that were proof of some kind, then climbed out of the truck.
“Don’t forget your hat,” he said, one gray eyebrow high on his lined forehead.
She seemed to be making a habit of forgetting things. “Oh. Right,” she said, taking it from him. “Thanks again for the ride, Troy.” Aiming another smile in his direction, Gabrielle slammed the heavy, creaking door. Waving with the hat, she stepped back. “You’re an angel,” she added, “and I’m gonna bake you a cherry pie to show my appreciation.”
His face wrinkled in confusion. “No thanks necessary,” he called through the open passenger window. “Now, git on inside and sit down before you fall down. I’ll call you later, make sure you’re all right.”
She snapped off a smart salute, then headed up the walk.
The kitchen clock said one-twenty. A glance around the room only added to her bewilderment. She’d never gone off and left the breakfast dishes, at least not without putting them in a wash pan to soak. Whatever was wrong—and there was plenty wrong—it had started before she took that fall from Triumph’s back.
She rummaged in the cupboard for an aspirin. Where tidy rows of tumblers and coffee mugs had once stood, Gabrielle found a mismatched mess of glasses and cups. What had
