Thistle Dew 56194u

THISTLE DEW

MARY C. ALLEN

AuthorHouse™ 1663 Liberty Drive Bloomington, IN 47403 www.authorhouse.com Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

© 2016 Mary C. Allen. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 09/06/2016

ISBN: 978-1-5246-2750-8 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-5246-2751-5 (hc) ISBN: 978-1-5246-2749-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016914371

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

For Gwen Damron, thank you for always believing in my writing. You’re my best friend and horse buddy, and I love you girl.

CHAPTER 1

B EFORE I LEFT, I CHECKED the guest bedroom one last time. I stopped in the doorway for a second to settle my nerves. I could feel my heart thumping inside my chest. I exhaled heavily, hoping that would release some of my anxiety. To distract myself from the feeling of uncertainty, I went over the checklist in my head: sheets and towels clean, toilet and shower scrubbed down, carpet vacuumed, bathroom floor mopped, refrigerator stocked, and all alcohol gone . Outside the second-story bedroom window, I spotted a female fox I had fondly named Tink. Her wild presence seemed to have a calming effect on me as I watched her cautiously slink across the back pasture toward the heavy cover of cottonwood and aspen trees along the creek. The morning frost melted quickly as the May sun rapidly crested over the snowcovered mountains and flooded the valley below. Almost like a light switch had been flipped, the bright rays seamlessly transformed the sunless landscape with brilliant color. I watched as a gang of pesky magpies flushed from the budding willows and flew toward Tink before she quickly disappeared into the trees. I then looked down at my black lab, Emmy, who was sitting by my side with her tail wagging back and forth on the carpet. She looked up at me with a joyous, toothy grin that made me smile and appreciate her companionship and love. “Emmy, we have company coming. We need to get to the airport!” Emmy stood and gave her familiar whine, followed by a happy bark. Emmy knew that something was stressing me. It seemed that, after seven months with just her and me, Emmy had developed a keen understanding of my emotions. It was uncanny how this animal could read me. But to me, Emmy was more than just a dog; she had helped me endure the unbearable burden I had shouldered these past months. I spotted my band of horses about a hundred yards away as Emmy and I walked out the front door. They were grazing along the irrigation stream that wound through my property. I stopped for a few seconds and gazed out from the

covered porch. I couldn’t help but feel inspired as the sun reflected off the snowcoated mountains to the west. In the cool, still air, my horses heard me walk across the gravel drive. All six popped their heads up in unison, their hot breath puffing out their nervous nostrils. I yelled across the pasture, “We have company coming!” They peered over at me for another few seconds and then resumed eating the protein-rich spring grass. As I made my way to the truck parked in the circular drive, I watched Emmy tuck her rump and bolt across the yard at a record pace. She did this because she wanted to play and because it was cold. I laughed at her puppy-like behavior as she stopped just as quickly as she had started. She looked at me with tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “We’ll play later, girl … I promise.” I opened the driver side door, and Emmy jumped in and commanded her assigned position in the enger seat. She proudly looked over at me with her beautiful, brown eyes as if to say, “All ready, Mommy!” My little copilot, I called her. “What would I do without you, Emmy?” I gave her a tender kiss on the head before starting up the truck. I ran the windshield wipers to clear away the melted frost. I found the hypnotic sound of the wipers soothing, so I left them on as I drove away. At the end of the long driveway, I waited for the heavy automatic gate to open. I fondly looked up at the custom steel sign bearing the name of our property: Thistle Dew. I couldn’t help but smile every time I read it. I slowly drove over the small wooden bridge. The creek under it was flowing fast, fed by the winter snowmelt in the mountains east of the valley. Once I hit the dirt road, I could feel my sense of angst tailgating me, filling my rear view mirror with an imaginary wave of uncertainty. I hit the accelerator, hoping to leave it behind. Yet what I got instead was a honk and a wave from Sheriff Madison as he ed me from the other direction. I waved back and slowed my speed. I quickly glanced in the rearview mirror and witnessed his truck being engulfed in a wake of brown dust. A few months back, Sheriff Madison had been a good advocate, as he kept the

press and the nosy public off my property. After about two weeks, the press and news media presence had slowly dwindled to just a few local s. But every day, I would look out the window to see several vans and media trucks, some with satellites perched on their roofs, parked on the dirt road bordering my sixty-acre ranch. Their presence was a nuisance but also a painful reminder of the heartache I was having to live through. I wasn’t able to mourn in private like most people. My husband’s death had become a spectacle, the top story both locally and worldwide. Despite that, my close friends and family had stepped up and circled me with their and love when I had needed it most. Still, it had been about five months since I had had anyone from out of town come stay with me. I had told everyone I needed time by myself. Nevertheless, the circumstances behind this coming visit were very different.

The news of my husband’s ing had come to me from his employer, but I could’ve easily found out by just turning on my television that morning. Blake, my husband, had been a pilot for a major commercial airline based out of Salt Lake City. He had commuted out of the airport in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. For the past year, he had been flying a route that went from Salt Lake City, Utah, to Beijing, China. As I had listened to the man’s voice on the other end of the phone express his regret, I ran to the kitchen and looked at the side of the refrigerator. Before each trip, Blake would always write his flight number on the eraser board. I’m not sure if I hadn’t believed this person or if I had needed visual proof. I interrupted him and asked the man, “What flight number was it that went down?” As he spouted off the four-digit number, I felt my legs give out. I grabbed the kitchen counter to steady myself. Regrettably, the numbers matched the ones Blake had written down the day before. I couldn’t now help but stare at the numbers he had scribbled on the whiteboard. He had even added a smiley face with horse ears. I was now laughing and crying at the same time. The airline official had spoken for another minute or so. My head was spinning with doubt, and I was weeping quietly. I then heard him say that the plane Blake had been piloting had gone down in the East China Sea, near the island of

Okinawa, Japan. “Unfortunately,” he stated, “all two hundred forty-two engers and twelve crew are feared lost. The FAA are on their way to the crash site to investigate the cause.” Without saying goodbye, I hung up on the gentleman and ran to turn on the television. I was crying uncontrollably now, with deep sobs rocking my body. I fought to catch my breath as I fumbled with the remote. It felt like I was trying to breathe underwater, my chest heavy with sorrow. Emmy watched me with uneasiness as she whined and followed me into the living room. She then rested her chin on my knee, her worried stare meeting my tear-filled eyes. I stroked her head with my trembling hand to reassure her. As I waited for the television to come on, my empty stomach rolled with nausea. It was hard for me to imagine that my best friend was no longer on this earth. I suddenly felt so very alone. I had always thought that I would know if he ed —that there would be a sign of some kind. I guess when you have such a strong connection with someone for so many years, you expect to feel something like that. I felt a little insulted or disregarded for not being the first to know he was gone. I asked myself, how can something that we know is going to happen to all of us, like death, somehow lead us to so many questions? The truth of his ing was now testing my faith as I tried to envision his fate. It was nine in the morning my time. I soon discovered that every channel had interrupted their regular programming to bring the news of an American commercial airliner crashing into the East China Sea. I read the bold, red-andwhite tag line at the bottom of the television screen: Delta Flight 2379 Crashes into East China Sea, near the Japanese Island of Okinawa. No sign of any survivors. The male newscaster demonstrated professionalism and formality, yet he couldn’t hide his sense of emotion while he reported the dreadful news. “There are so many questions,” he stated, “but right now there don’t seem to be any answers. There was no distress call from the cockpit before the plane disappeared from radar. Eyewitnesses in Okinawa have said that they saw the Delta Boeing 777 jet with its nose facing down, flying sharply toward the sea. The witnesses went on to say that there was no visible impairment to the aircraft

as the jet engines roared before it then plunged into fifty feet of water. The aircraft broke up on impact and quickly sank to the bottom of the sea. Divers have been in the water for about a half hour, but there is no evidence of life at this time. The Delta flight had originated in Salt Lake City, Utah, and was scheduled to land in Beijing, China, an hour before the crash.” The camera shot then went to live helicopter footage displaying a ribbon of airplane debris floating in the rolling sea below. The camera zoomed in to reveal articles of clothing floating on the surface, now tainted with jet fuel. The helicopter footage also showed two Navy ships from the American base in Okinawa floating nearby, offering to the Japanese divers. I covered my mouth and gasped when I saw the enger’s personal items drifting in the turbulent blue waters. For a few seconds, I wanted to forget that it was my husband at the bottom of that sea. My thoughts were with the over two hundred ages and their families. I didn’t want to imagine their fates and what they had experienced during those last minutes of their lives. I watched in horror and disbelief while wiping away my fresh tears. None of what I saw seemed real, the images on the screen playing out more like a Hollywood movie. Blake had been the captain of that flight, and I knew the FAA would be focusing their investigation on his performance. There was surely a total loss of hydraulics, I told myself. I couldn’t help but envision Blake using all his piloting skills to avert the inevitable. Again, I broke down, my entire body shuttering with despair. Emmy whined again while she nudged my hands, which were covering my face. My cell phone rang, bringing me back to reality, but I couldn’t answer it, not now. I was frozen in a vision from the past as I closed my eyes and saw Blake. The warm September sun was shining on his handsome face. Blake was leading his colt to the barn and smiled wide as I snapped a photo of him and his new horse. One month before he had died, Blake and I had increased our herd of horses to six. We had found a beautiful two-year-old gelding in Cody, Wyoming. He was a sorrel and white paint with a blue left eye. His ed name was Geronimo’s Light. Blake was going to train the colt himself, and he was so excited.

CHAPTER 2

B LAKE AND I HAD MET some fifteen years ago, when I was the head horse trainer at Jackson Hole’s most prestigious guest ranch. I had been working there for about three years. I had left home at the age of eighteen and headed west to pursue a career with horses. I was one of those girls who was horse crazy from birth. It was hard for my parents to ignore my ion, but our large family of seven kids didn’t allow us to afford a horse, as my father said. So I began helping out every day at an equestrian barn near my home when I was only seven years old. I would clean tack, wash brushes, or pick the horses’ feet. When I turned twelve, the barn owners hired me. My job was to muck out twenty stalls seven days a week. I didn’t care what I did, as long as I was working with horses. By the time I was eighteen, I was fortunate enough to have worked for several talented horse trainers. They taught me a lot, which proved invaluable when it came time for me to look for a job at several guest ranches in the Jackson Hole, Wyoming area. There were many things about the West that lured me. Maybe it was my romantic images of cowboys riding their horses in the beautiful, snow-capped mountains. I had seen photos of the Teton Mountain Range and was instantly drawn to them. My cousin Maddy had sent us a small album of her wedding photos. She had been married on a hill top with the Grand Tetons in the back ground. It took my breath away, and I told myself that I had to live in this land of such raw beauty and rugged wilderness. It just so happened that Maddy lived in the Jackson area. She had told me I was welcome to live with her while I looked for a job. I accepted her invitation with enthusiasm. The Jackson Hole area was one of the most expensive places to live, so having a free place to stay was fortunate. My parents helped me pack my old Ford truck with all my personal belongings.

Most of my things were horse related, from clothes to my western bit collection to my favorite western saddle. The saddle had been given to me by the barn owners where I worked for eleven years. Walter was like a father to me, and I would miss him and his wife Ginger like they were family. I felt Walter and Ginger had prepared me the most for life, for they had given me the love and acceptance I hadn’t received from my parents. For my entire life, there had been an emotional disconnect between my parents and me. To explain it in others would understand, I am pretty sure my mother suffers from some form of mental illness. I say this, because I feel it isn’t normal for a mother to hate her children. My mother verbally assaulted and manipulated my father as well. She treated him more like her child than a husband. Growing up, my siblings and I thought she verbally and physical abused us because there were seven of us. We thought this mainly because she would tell us, “You kids make my life miserable! I wish you had never been born!” I could give you more painful and hateful phrases she would say to us kids on a daily basis, but I think you understand the damage she was inflicting on our selfesteem. Her rants against my father, I , sometimes lasted for hours into the night. As a child, I would wake to the sound of her screaming at him. It would make my blood run cold, fearing that their quarrels would manifest into violence. To endure listening to my mother expel all that hate and anger was exhausting for all of us, especially my father. He would just sit there and take it for hours. If I had to name one emotion to describe my childhood, it would be fear. I never felt safe in my own home. I hearing my mother yelling and instantly feeling so frightened. I would hide in a closet or under my bed hoping to escape her wrath. I avoided being home as much as possible to elude my mother’s hateful words because I feared my mother like the devil. In my opinion, my parents treated us more like inmates in prison, they being our wardens, you could say. Life under their roof was devoid of any nurturing or love. That’s why I spent most of my time at the barn. And that’s why I was drawn to horses and other animals, because they gave me the affection and unconditional love my parents failed to give me.

My mother told me many times to my face that she hated me and that I was stupid and would never amount to anything. Those are very strong words for a young girl to hear from her mother. Nothing I did was ever good enough in her mind. Now as adults, all seven of her children struggle with this past, which seems to keep haunting our present. I struggled for years with blaming myself for my pain. When we met when I was in my early twenties, Blake could sense my torment, but I couldn’t talk to him about it. I was too ashamed. He told me to go see a psychiatrist and see if they could help. For the first time in my life, I spoke about my parents out loud, and someone listened and didn’t judge. The words sounded strange and foreign coming out of my mouth. It was traumatic to verbalize the things that had happened to me. Oddly enough, the abuse hadn’t seemed real until I told someone. The things I was telling this psychiatrist shocked even me as the memories quickly flooded back—painful memories I had tried to forget. The shame and sadness from my past overwhelmed me, which was surprisingly therapeutic. I learned to stop blaming myself for the abuse and put it back on my parents. My psychiatrist had me write my mother a letter. In that letter I had to tell her what she did to me and how it had affected me during my formative years. Our goal was to get her to apologize and take responsibility for the abuse so I could move forward. Well, it all sounded good in theory, but my mother doubled down and stood her ground by saying that she and my father had done the best they could, period. I knew after that response, I could never have a relationship with this person, even if she was my mother. My six siblings kept living in denial. They continued to blame themselves for our abusive childhood and deny the truth. Our mother had effectively convinced us that it was our fault. I wanted to tell them that having seven children didn’t give her the right to abuse us, but after I sent that letter, I became an outsider and was considered a traitor in my own family.

After a two-day drive from Minnesota, I made it to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. I quickly settled into my new place with my cousin, who I hadn’t seen in four

years. Maddy was five years older and had recently married to a well-respected orthodontist. She had a tiny frame and small features, with long, beautiful, brunette hair and large, green eyes. She was a hotel manager at the Four Seasons Hotel. Maddy and her husband owned a modest home in Wilson, a small town west of Jackson. What their house lacked in splendor was made up for by their view and property. They lived off a back road just outside of town on about fifteen acres that had a million-dollar view of the Teton Mountain Range and the Snake River. My cousin was also horse crazy and owned four horses. She rode English, and stadium jumping was her ion. Her horses were imported from , where the best warmblood stock are from, she proudly told me as we stood on the white fence rail to eye them in the pasture. They were all light-bay colored with black manes and tails. They were of mighty build, with beautifully defined muscles. Her horses just looked noble, I thought as they paraded toward us from the grassy pasture, their heads high and bobbing as they walked. I hadn’t seen a warmblood in person before, and I must say they were impressive. I couldn’t wait to ride one. The next day, Maddy gave me a lesson with an English saddle, which I found to be more like the size of a postage stamp. The stirrups, or irons as they were called, were so high I felt like a jockey. Even so, I took to it very quickly, and before long, she had me jumping cross rails. I loved her German horses, and it was a privilege to ride them with their overall physical performance and athleticism. I had a big smile on my face the entire time, and I felt euphoric as we soared over the jumps with ease.

It was early May, and I knew the guest ranches would be hiring for the summer. The first few places I applied, the foremen questioned my horse training capabilities. They also didn’t think I had the physical capability to work on a horse ranch. I was short—only five foot one—which made me appear young and delicate. After a couple of rejections, I went for my third interview. This time, before the gentleman had time to dismiss me, I stood and challenged him to let me prove to him that I was indeed a competent horse trainer. This particular foreman was

nearing fifty, and I could tell he was a little bit annoyed. However, he also was a little curious as to what I could accomplish, seeing as I was so young and a gal to boot, as he put it. The man sat quiet for a second while twirling his long handlebar mustache in his fingers. He thought to himself and pondered my request. He looked down at his lap and then up at me. I was so nervous that my heart thumped in my throat. I was eager to show this foreman what I could do, and it showed on my young face. He soon gave a heavy sigh and nodded his head. He took off his oversized, stained cowboy hat and scratched his head. “I have a mare … She’s been giving me hell since I unloaded her off the trailer six months ago.” He paused again to take in a lot of air and then exhaled heavily. “I haven’t had time to work with her; last winter was a humdinger. I will give you thirty days with this filly, and if you can make her a safe ride for a novice, you’re hired.” His gruff voice boomed toward the end of his statement. He quickly stood up and pointed out the large window behind him at a blue roan grazing about a block away with several other horses. “Do you have a place to stay?” he asked, turning around to face me. I just stood looking out the window at the mare. I peered up at him and gave him a wide grin and said, “No sir … well, yes. You see I’ve been living with a cousin in Wilson, but she’s eager to have me leave. She’s a newlywed.” I smiled again. He couldn’t help himself and smiled in return. “I can give you a place to stay, but no pay for the training and two meals a day. The mess hall and employee housing is at the end of this main road. I have a room open in cabin number twelve.” Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, I had excused myself and was out the door, walking toward the pasture where my project horse was waiting. Mr. Akins followed me out the door and yelled that there was a halter and lead rope on the gate. I turned around and yelled thank you and then starting running. I swung the halter and lead over my shoulder so I could climb over the fence. After only ten days, I had the mare saddled and bridled. The next day, I led her into the round pen where I mounted her with ease. I was able to do this so quickly because of the intense groundwork I had done with her first in the round pen. I would train with her for about an hour in the morning and for another hour during the late afternoon. With the groundwork in place, I had shown her that I was the herd leader. I could tell that she hadn’t had much training, which meant

no bad habits or experiences with humans that I had to correct. I had been taught that the best way to correct a horse was to make it work, which meant move its feet. To reward it, you release the pressure and let it rest. Interesting enough, horses learn from the reward or the release of pressure. With repetition and patience, I was earning the mare’s respect and trust. I then moved on to desensitization training. I exposed her to everything I knew riders would come across on the trail and more. I showed her that her human rider was there to protect her. I named the Mare Topaz for her blue roan color. She was a little over fifteen hands and looked to be around four years old. Topaz was smart, and she learned quickly, which made my job a lot easier. I became attached to this filly, and I as I tenderly stroked her face, I hoped that our relationship wasn’t over.

On day thirty, Mr. Akins drove up to the corral where I had Topaz saddled up and ready for him to ride. I was nervous because he was an intimidating man and because my whole career would be determined by this one ride. He slowly unfolded his six-foot-two frame out of the pickup truck and adjusted his hat and jeans. He gave me a big smile, exposing his large, yellow-stained teeth. “Well, young lady, I see you have me a horse to ride?” He slowly walked toward me while sliding on his worn leather gloves. He then spit his tobacco juice onto the dirt. The sound and image made me wince. That was one cowboy habit I found unappealing. A gust of wind kicked up, and I was surprised when Topaz jumped and pranced side to side. “She senses your nerves,” he said. “Take a deep breath. You’ll be fine. Now let’s see what this filly’s made of.” Yes, that was it; Topaz was sensing my nerves. Knowing this, I tenderly stroked her face with my hand. Mr. Atkins walked up to Topaz and patted her neck with his hand. He then picked up all four feet, holding each one for a while to see if she would pull her foot away. He even walked behind her and pulled on her tail. Topaz didn’t flinch. It reminded me of a dog show, when the judge inspected the dog’s structure, touching here, pulling there.

“She’s got great conformation. That’s what caught my eye when I spotted her at the auction,” he said. He then mounted her from the right side to see what she would do. Topaz just stood there, trying to balance against his two-hundred-thirty-pound frame. Mr. Atkins then dismounted by sliding off her backside, landing behind Topaz, and then he slapped her rump. Again, she stood quietly. “So far, so good. Let’s go for a ride.” Mr. Atkins mounted Topaz from the correct side and settled into his saddle. I handed him the reins. “She’s got the smoothest lope I’ve ever had the pleasure of riding, sir.” He smiled big again and then dug his large spurs into the horse’s sides and clicked with his tongue. Off they went at a working trot down the long drive, which lead to the main trail. Mr. Atkins hired me that day and made me the head trainer. I was to tune up all thirty of his ranch horses. He said he wanted my “bombproof” stamp on the rest of his herd.

Blake was a pilot based out of the Atlanta, Georgia, airport at the time I met him. He had four days off in Jackson Hole, and he planned to vacation at the ranch where I worked. I noticed Blake as soon as I made my way to the barn that morning. He was standing with his hands in the back pockets of his worn jeans, which fit him nicely. He looked a little nervous as Darcy saddled Topaz for him. He looked to be around thirty and very well kept. Society would have called him “metrosexual,” and I thought he appeared a little out of place with his wellgroomed self. Blake was of average height, maybe five foot ten. The thing about him that attracted me was his kind and handsome clean-shaven face. Not to mention his short, light-brown hair and large eyes, which I found alluring. I giggled a little at myself as I stood outside my cabin and watched this man while he interacted with Darcy. We had had a lot of handsome, rich clients at our ranch over the years, but something about this guy was different. As it happened, Darcy needed my help that day for the morning trail ride because a few wranglers had the day off. Without being seen, I went back into

my cabin to look at my face in the bathroom mirror. I promptly washed my face to add some color to my pale skin. I then tried to fix my unbrushed hair with my fingers. My blonde hair then was long, down past my shoulders. My dark-brown eyes looked blood shot and tired. I didn’t wear makeup or style my hair; I didn’t have time. We all worked sixteen-hour days six days a week during the short summers. I was lucky to get in a shower three times a week. I was only twentyone, but the three years of mountain sun had aged me. I put my long, blonde hair in a ponytail and threw on my worn, black cowboy hat to cover my unmade face. I wasn’t shy by any means. If I liked a guy, I would let him know. When I first got to Jackson at the age of eighteen, I was on my own for the first time, and I was still a virgin. I soon discovered that I was craving affection and intimacy. I wanted someone to touch me and to be loved. I had had a few boyfriends back home, but that was in grade school. Anyway, there wasn’t time for boys, once I decided that horse training would be my career. However, now I was a woman with my hormones firing, and my mind was focused on finding a cowboy. My first day at the ranch, I met the two other male wranglers. There was Jake, aged twenty-three, from Cody, Wyoming. He had brown, wavy hair down to his chin. His eyes were as blue as the mountain sky, and he had a toothy, white smile that made me melt. He was tall, about six foot two, and my definition of a hot cowboy. Then there was Rick, aged nineteen, from Jackson. He had a stocky build—about five foot eight and solid muscle. He had blonde hair cut short and sexy brown eyes. Both were college boys who had worked at the ranch for the past two summers. I roomed with Darcy, a twenty-five-year-old country girl born and bred in Teton Valley, Wyoming. She was as strong as a man but as kind as a kitten. She was like a big sis to me, and we got along great until I starting sneaking out at night to pay our neighbors a visit. However, I was young, and my hormones were raging. I reminded Darcy that we were blessed with a town full of handsome cowboys. Darcy just shook her head in disgust and then resumed reading her smutty romance novel in her bunk. I told Darcy I was going to live life instead of just reading about it. “Don’t be a whore, Meredith Blackman.” She said with true sincerity. I just laughed and closed the door behind me.

I went a little crazy the first summer. But wasn’t that what young people did, sowing my oats, as they would say?

I knew the two boys played cards every night before bed, so I decided to see if I could them. They both looked shocked but pleased when I walked in on their game of five card stud. After four quick shots of whiskey and two winning hands, I got up the nerve and asked the two if they wanted to fool around. Looking back at it now, my choice of words sounded dated. In my defense, I was new at this art of seduction. They both again looked at me like I was crazy. At that point, I told them that I was a virgin and that I wanted to have sex with them. Jake and Rick then both looked at each other and burst into laughter before blushing. I felt a little embarrassed, but the whiskey helped soften the blow to my ego. I stood and told them that I was serious before swiftly peeling off all my clothes. My young, naked body was in full view for them to gawk at. Without thinking, I straddled Jake and sat on his lap. I started to kiss him, holding his face with my hands. His three-day stubble felt ruff against my chin. The room got quiet as Jake started kissing me back, our tongues hungrily searching out each other’s lust. I could feel his large, warm hands as they caressed my small breasts. I could tell he was getting aroused, as I felt his hard penis pres against my wet pussy. Rick just sat there not sure what to do. I wanted Jake now, so I pressed my lips up to his ear and whispered, “I want you to fuck me.” Hearing that, Jake picked me up. I wrapped my legs tightly around his hips. He carried me to his bunk and gently laid me down. I could see the desire in his eyes before he took off his shirt and pants. His enormous dick poked out of his red boxers. I became so excited that I hungrily pulled him on top of me. I had never had a man inside me before, but when I did, it all seemed so perfect. I could feel his hard cock thrust deep within me, taking my breath away. I arched my back to welcome his penetration. After only a few minutes, I experienced a wave of intense elation and pleasure like nothing I had ever felt before. A ripple of heat rushed over my body and settled in my throat. I then peaked with a sense of euphoria and intense satisfaction, a sensation that literally curled my toes. I

didn’t want it to end, but in seconds it did. My entire body was steaming with ion. Jake then let out a deep groan along with a final thrust of his hips. I then saw Rick standing unclothed just beside Jake. He was holding his engorged cock, waiting his turn. His was larger than Jake’s by girth, but shorter. Seeing Rick’s naked body made me ready for more. Rick had a glazed look in his eyes—the look of desire—as he pushed Jake aside and commanded his place inside my hot, wet cunt. I was ready for him, and I pulled him to me and searched out his mouth. I moaned as he filled me with the length of his dick. I then put my hands on his hard ass and forced him deeper inside me. Again, I came quickly, but I don’t want to stop. This tag team sex went on for about an hour until all of us were spent. The three of us lay on the bunk together laughing, while we tried to comprehend what had just happened. I was feeling like the luckiest girl as two men fondled my naked body. Before we knew it, we were aroused again, and the guys were once again taking turns with me. That night, when I lost my virginity with two men, was epic, and I continued to have sex with Jake and Rick the entire summer. I felt like a goddess with two men fighting over me.

Blake noticed me as I walked up to him and Darcy, who was bridling Topaz. His smile was enchanting and affectionate. I went right up to this handsome stranger and offered him my hand. “Who’s this handsome cowboy, Darcy?” Hearing my voice, Darcy quickly turned around. Blake kept his eyes on me as he shook my hand. His green eyes were mesmerizing and sexy. Blake was the only rider who showed up that morning of the six that signed up, so I told Darcy I would take our guest on the trail ride. Darcy rolled her eyes at me and walked off back to our cabin. I knew that look from her; she was warning me not to have sex with this man.

The chemistry between Blake and I was evident as we rode the horses side by side along the seven-mile trail. Our conversation seemed so natural and familiar. It was the easiest and most interesting conversation I have ever had with a human being. Our meeting was fate, if there was such a thing. I know it’s cliché, but it’s true. I have always heard that you will know it when you meet that right person. There wouldn’t be words that could explain it, but you would know in your heart that this was the one.

My cell phone rang again, and I looked down to see who it was. It was my dear friend and neighbor Grace. Besides Blake, she was the most important person in my life. Grace was the chief physician at our small valley hospital. We had met ten years ago when Blake and I were building our ranch. She rode her horse across the pasture while Blake and I were watching the builders erect the post and beams for our new home. She looked so beautiful, I , with her long, bright, ginger hair blowing in the wind. She was riding a beautiful chestnut gelding that matched the color of her hair. She wore a big smile on her face as she handed us a basket full of homemade blueberry muffins. We have been best friends since that meeting. I answer the phone on the second ring. “Mer, its Grace. Was that Blake’s plane that went down?” The emotion in her voice sent me into another episode of tears. Grace didn’t need me to speak; she could hear me sobbing. “Oh, shit. Me and Blade will be right over. I’ll help you get Traveller saddled up. Don’t worry … the fresh air will help clear your head. Now I want you to turn that television off. It’s a beautiful fall day, and we need to be a part of it.” She delivered her words with the utmost sincerity. I couldn’t speak through my sobs, so Grace said she would be over in about thirty minutes and hung up. I ed how that morning was like any other. I had gotten up around seven and let the goats out of the barn and then gave them and the horses fresh alfalfa. After that, I harrowed the arena with the tractor while the ground was

wet with a heavy frost. I then set up four jumps, because I had two students that afternoon for lessons. Finally, I inspected the area around the barn for wolf tracks. My neighbors down the road, who raised sheep, had lost five lambs to a pack of wolves about a month ago. I had always kept my goats in the barn at night because of the many predators in this mountain wilderness. I felt it was our job to coexist with nature, not control it. But many of my ranching neighbors, who I didn’t get along with, didn’t think this way. If they had it their way, all the wolves and coyotes would be trapped or shot into extinction.

I did as Grace told me and turned the television off, tossing the remote on the couch. Turning it off somehow stopped the wave of emotions that had overwhelmed me, and I found the energy to walk out to the back pasture to collect Traveller, my dapple-gray Percheron-and-quarter-horse gelding. Emmy kept close to my side as we entered the pasture. Normally she would be pouncing around the field, nose to the ground, marking her territory with her urine. But this morning, she kept looking up at me as we made our way across the field. So I looked down at her and forced a smile though my sadness. This seemed to help, because she then bolted off to inspect a pile of rocks where the coyotes liked to mark. It was a beautiful, early-October day, and Grace was right; it helped to be outside in the cool morning air. The aspen trees displayed their yellow leaves, which danced in a light breeze like gold coins. The transition to autumn was settling in. In the cool air, I could smell the wet, tilled soil from the recently plowed farm fields. In the mountains, winter had already taken its grip, delivering two feet of snow upon the highest peaks the week before. My horses spotted me coming, and they all stopped eating and watched me make my way toward them. I knew what they were thinking. Who is she coming for? It was comical to see the relief on the faces of those I didn’t choose to ride. Most horses are by nature lazy, which some people find surprising, but my German Hanoverian, Strider enjoyed working. He loved to jump, and he was a great lesson horse. My cousin Maddy found him on one of her many trips to about four years ago. I was lucky to own a horse like him.

I walked toward them and spoke with a soothing voice to keep them calm. Seeing them always made me feel content, especially today. I stopped about fifteen feet from them. I did this to release the pressure because they weren’t moving away from me. It was their reward. When I stopped, I looked down at the ground and put my hand out. In return, all six slowly made their way over to me. Traveller, my old man, at the age of eighteen, got to me first. His warm, soft nose ed my cheek. I could feel his hot breath on my face. His whiskers tickled my skin, and I smiled. His tender touch brought me to tears. I opened my eyes to witness all of them huddling around me, seemingly expressing their comion. Their lofty presence gave me resilience. I thanked them with a gentle touch of my hand and kisses on their warm noses. I was happily surprised when I saw my new guy, Geronimo, nuzzle his way up to me. Despite having only owned him a month, he had made his place in my herd and my heart. I told myself that this was why I had horses in my life. There was no need for words to communicate my bond with these gentle giants. I placed the halter over Traveller’s large head and then turned and led him back to the barn. I was delighted to see that the other five were following us. They walked in single file, like a small herd of elephants. Geronimo was trailing behind, because he was at the bottom of the pecking order. Emmy came running up to me and Traveller. Traveller bowed his overgrown head, and the two touched noses. Emmy loved the horses as much as I did. My other five horses stood at the gate as I led Traveller to the barn. My clan of goats bid us a good morning with their loud bleats as we walked by their outdoor enclosure. Emmy barked at the goats as they all tried to climb the chicken wire fence. She knew I hated it when they did that. I smiled and thanked Emmy for scolding them. It was cold inside the barn, so I decided to tack up Traveller at the hitching post near the goats in the warmth of the sun. I started by picking out Traveller’s large feet. I then brushed his coat, which was getting thicker by the day. Winter wasn’t far off, and the dwindling daylight triggered the horses’ hair growth. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Grace and Blade walking my way through my pasture, where my other five horses were. My herd saw them coming. Their

heads were raised high, and they suddenly bolted off toward them at a full gallop. The sound of their thundering hooves carried in the crisp morning air. It was a good thing that Blade was a seasoned horse; he was used to them doing this every time they rode onto my property. I could hear Grace talking to my band or horses as they all stopped and then walked up to greet her and Blade. Grace always had sugar cubes in her pockets, and my horses knew that. I heard Grace say, “Strider, you had yours. Now let Geronimo in, thank you.” Her motherly voice was soothing yet also assured. Hearing Grace’s tender and familiar voice again filled my eyes with tears. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from crying. Traveller then sighed, which distracted me. I patted his neck and kissed his nose. “We’re going to get through this buddy.”

CHAPTER 3

I GOT TO THE JACKSON Hole airport in just over an hour. It felt strange being there, because the last time I had been there was about five months ago in early December to pick up my two sisters. At that time, a snowstorm had just ended, covering the ground with over two feet of snow in the valley and over five feet in the mountains. My two middle sisters, Sandy and Dana, were only a year apart in age, Dana a year older than Sandy. My oldest sibling, Brenda, hadn’t been speaking to me since the whole letter to my mom thing several years ago. It was funny, because Brenda was the most messed up of all us kids. She was an alcoholic, a Prozac queen, and a pothead. She was always high on something, so it didn’t surprise me when she took my parent’s side. Hell, I doubt she even ed last week, let alone our past. But that was the role of the oldest child, wasn’t it? My oldest brother, Steve, was an interesting guy. He just went with the flow, and if we didn’t talk for three years, we would just start where we left off. No drama. As children though, Steve was a real dick. He would break or destroy every toy and doll of mine. I’m not sure why, but it sure pissed me off. I made do and played with dolls without heads or found a way to dribble a deflated basketball. I tried to hide most of my toys in the crawl space under the stairs. I would sit in there and play for hours, hidden away from my crazy family. That had all been before horses, though, and when I started going to the barn every day, horses became my escape. They still were. Steve was seven years older than me and was quite the rebel back when he was a teenager. Actually, both Brenda and Steve were. The two oldest were also only a year apart in age—well actually, only eleven months apart. That, my friends, was what marriage was like when the Catholic church told you that it was a sin to use birth control. My mother had a baby almost every year. There was a two-year gap between my middle brother, William, and youngest brother, Darien, and two and a half years between Darien and I. I’m now confused. I may not have that right, but it really doesn’t matter. Steve gave me the nickname “Midge,” which was short for midget, because I

was on the tiny side.

My two sisters were eager to fly out and comfort me after Blake’s death during my time of loss. Sandy was tall and glamorous looking, with long, styled, auburn hair. She wore a lot of makeup and donned the most fashionable clothes, mainly because her career was in fashion. Sandy was a buyer. She had a very strong personality and an effervescent quality that lit up the room when she entered it. She was melodramatic—so much so that our family called her our “soap opera queen.” Sandy also had the worst luck of anyone I knew and was very clumsy. She had more flat tires than humanly possible. She had also had the worst taste in men, until she met her husband Nate. Well, both Brenda and Sandy did. But Sandy had a heart of gold, and she would do anything for me, her little sis. Dana, on the other hand, was more subdued and a homebody. My mother put them in the same grade in school because they were so close in age, which was hard on Dana, being the older, less popular sister. Dana had dyslexia and learning problems. My middle brother, William, and I also had dyslexia, and school was not easy for us, let me tell you. Dana too was tall, but she had dark hair and was plain looking compared to Sandy. She didn’t wear makeup or style her hair. She was also quite ive. My mother picked on her a lot in her early teen years, a time in all our lives when we already feel awkward and self-conscious. My mother was a genuine bully, in the sense that she would belittle you for hours, beating you down until you could take no more, and Dana’s emotional self was a wreck in the wake of our mother’s endless attacks. I think because Dana was home a lot, she was fair game for my mother. When Dana and Sandy visited me that December, they told me things I’d never known before. For instance, one night, when we were sitting around the fire in the great room drinking a lot of margaritas, Dana confessed to us that when she was a teenage, she had considered taking her own life. My mother’s abuse had had her teetering on the edge of disaster. But because we were Catholic, we believed it was a sin to kill yourself. She said that had been the only thing that stopped her from doing it. Instead, she said, she had resorted to cutting or scalding herself with hot water.

I that as little kids, Darien and I hated Dana, calling her Hitler because she would bully and physically hurt us to the point that we would cry. Her favorite thing to do was pinch our cheeks as hard as she could. She seemed to get pleasure out of hurting us. Most children would go to their mothers for help, but our mother was worse than Dana. As I got older, I understood why Dana had done this to us. It was because my mother was bullying her. I think the saying was that bullies bully because they were bullied. My sister was taking out her frustrations on Darien and I. Sandy and Brenda had more hotheaded personalities. If my mother tried to bully them, they would just yell back or tell her to “fuck off!” and storm off to their rooms. Sandy was known for her door slamming and hot temper. We would joke that it was because of her red hair. It seemed to work, because my mother left those two alone most of the time. The weaker ones she would pounce on and dig her teeth in, you could say. Sandy confessed that she thought she was an alcoholic, and she said the only reason she had a relationship with my mother was because of her son. I told her I thought that was a stupid reason, and she fired back at me, “Fuck you, Meredith.” I just smiled and finished my drink. Sandy then brought up a story from when we were really young—so young that I don’t it. She said we had just come home from church, and mom was really pissed about something. What a surprise. None of us knew what she had been mad about. We were always complete angels in church, so whatever had her reeling was a mystery. Yet, it wouldn’t take much to get her going. Anyway, Sandy said she lined up all seven of us kids in the dining room. She then screamed to her seven, beautiful, innocent children, “If I had a gun right now, I would shoot you all.” Even I was shocked by this story. The woman was vile.

The day after our night of confessions and margaritas, I hooked up my two draft horses, Traveller and Coal, to my sleigh and took my sisters for a sleigh ride through my neighbor’s farm fields. We drank spiked hot chocolate while singing Christmas carols. We laughed so hard that day. I truly felt blessed to have this time with my sisters. The years between us disappeared as we made new memories together.

The day before they left, I plowed all the snow off my acre trout pond. We strapped on our ice skates and skated around the pond, like we had when we were kids. I had run into the thrift store the week before they came and happened to find two pairs of figure skates in their sizes. Neither of them had skated since we were kids, but they took right to it. I set up two nets, and we played a game of hockey. Grace had ed us so we could have teams of two. Grace and I whooped their butts! The next day we were all sore in places I never knew could be sore. Sandy had taken quite the fall and had a bruise as big as Texas on her bum.

One winter, Blake cut a hole in the ice, set up his ice fishing pole, and put on his hockey skates. He would skate around while waiting for his bell to ring telling him he had a fish on the line. I told him he’d just invented a new sport. On my sisters’ last night with me, Grace came over, and we played board games until two in the morning. I hadn’t laughed that hard in years. My sisters loved Grace, and that night we officially made her our sister by each taking a shot of tequila.

I thought about how a week after Blake died, I had had Grace come with me to the airport to get Blake’s truck from the employee parking lot. By now the truck had been sitting in my garage for seven months. My thoughts of Blake helped distract me from the real reason I was there at the airport, but soon my nerves came back. What would I say? I hadn’t seen or spoken to my brother for over eighteen years. I had never heard from him after Blake’s death, but I hadn’t expected to. In fact, besides my two sisters, I hadn’t communicated with any of my siblings or my parents for years. Would I even recognize Darien? My God, hopefully he would recognize me. That thought now had me worried as I parked my truck in the short-term parking. I jumped out of the truck and put Emmy on her leash. I was going to need her for this epic meeting.

Darien was two and a half years older than me. I was the youngest of four girls and three boys. My middle sister, Sandy, said Darien had aged a lot from his years of heavy drinking. He was now thirty-nine years old and had been

hospitalized three times over the past two years while he went through debilitating withdrawals. During his last hospitalization, the doctor told my parents that his central nervous system and liver had been gravely affected by his years of alcohol abuse. He was suffering from WKS—Wernicke-Korsakoff Syndrome. He could have short and long term debilitating psychosis along with mental confusion, dementia, paralysis of the legs, anxiety, and depression. He also had the first signs of cirrhosis of the liver. My sister said every time he was hospitalized, she was sure he was going to die, but each time he recovered and would be sober for a few weeks. In my mind, Darien was still that beautiful and kind brown-eyed boy with so much potential. It was painful for me to hear what he was going through and the fact that no one was able to help him stop this destruction. How his body kept functioning over twenty years of abuse was incredible. We had been very close as children, spending a lot of time together. Even so, a lot had changed. The only thing we had in common now was the fact that we were related and shared a horrible past. I had had enough stress as it was, coping with Blake’s death and the plane crash. Now with seeing Darien again, I was afraid my awful past would resurface. That thought filled me with dread. While we were growing up, my siblings, and I were all just trying to survive under our parents’ frightening reign. I Darien was a shy and sensitive boy. He was my best friend back then. Now, as I was standing in the airport to greet him, I found myself not wanting to face him and his disease or my past, which would undoubtedly arrive with him. Darien had lived with my parents for about three months, and Sandy said that Mom and Dad were tired of taking care of him. None of my other siblings had offered to take him in. Sandy couldn’t, because she didn’t want to expose her son to an acute alcoholic. She quickly mentioned that her twelve-year-old son was afraid of Darien. She went on to say that her marriage and family had to come first. She had offered to pay his plane ticket, and I let her, hoping that it would give her some sense of closure. Sandy then added some of her older-sister wisdom, pointing out that I was alone now and that maybe Darien and I could help each other. I laughed, because how could she compare losing a husband of fifteen years to my brother’s twenty years of abusing alcohol? As I saw it, we

would be like two motherless chicks, lost in a world of emotions. Sandy had itted to me in December that she had to have a drink or two every day. She said that she craved the taste of alcohol and that it helped her cope with her shitty life. She would be considered a high-functioning alcoholic, whereas Darien would be labeled a fall-down drunk or a bum. Regrettably, he had lived on the streets for a while, which I couldn’t imagine. He had gone as far as selling his plasma for money to buy booze. My family saw Darien as someone who was weak and selfish in his excessive drinking. My parents knew others who had become sober, so they couldn’t understand why Darien couldn’t do the same. They obviously didn’t understand the different degrees of addiction. Not that I did, but I knew he wasn’t doing it to piss them off. He couldn’t stop out of guilt, since guilt would just make him drink more, and weakness wasn’t the reason why people couldn’t stop abusing. Sandy would sometimes say, “I told him I loved him. I don’t understand why he keeps doing this?” It was sad how my family made this all about themselves, not Darien. I was sure my mother was more concerned about what others would say about seeing her youngest son drunk and loitering on the streets of our small home town. That would be the only reason she would take him in—to keep him hidden from view. My parents had never been there for us as children, so why else would they be there now when their son was slowly killing himself with alcohol? In her mind, all her children were huge disappointments. Sandy told me how Darien had recently been evicted from his apartment again, after losing another job as a chef because of his drinking. When my parents got to his apartment, he was so inebriated that he couldn’t even stand. He was combative and demented as my parents and landlord entered his apartment. He hadn’t eaten any food for days and was confused, not knowing who they were. When my father helped him stand, he could see that Darien had soiled himself and the chair he was sitting in. It appeared that he had been in the chair for days. Darien would drink straight whiskey by the bottle during his binges, which would last for days. He might have died in that chair if they hadn’t gone there that day. I sometimes asked myself if death would be better than the life he was living. For the nearly twenty years since high school, Darien had worked at the same

restaurant. The manager who hired Darien was a childhood friend of our oldest brother, Steve. When Darien first started working at the restaurant, he started out washing dishes. Darien put in a lot of late hours at the restaurant in the beginning. Consequently, he almost didn’t graduate from high school. Over many years, Darien had worked his way up to head chef. His culinary skills were revered, and his coworkers had become his family. Unfortunately, the first symptoms of his WKS became apparent. Darien one night became enraged and violent in the kitchen, lashing out as his coworkers. His friend and manager had no choice but to fire Darien because of the severity of his outburst. I believe that tragic moment in Darien’s life revealed to everyone how serious his drinking had become. Sadly, when he lost his profession and his work family, Darien sunk deeper into his addiction to alcohol. Sandy told me about last Thanksgiving, by which point his drinking had quickly escalated after a short period of sobriety. Neither she nor my parents wanted Darien there to celebrate Thanksgiving dinner with them. She said the last time she saw him at our parents’ house, he was loud and rude to all of them. He had constant tremors, and his speech was slurred. I was shocked by their lack of empathy and comion on a day families come together to give thanks for the loved ones in their lives. I had visions of him sitting in his apartment alone on Thanksgiving, not eating turkey but rather drinking his whiskey. It made me feel such sadness. I wanted to say to her that our parents were the root cause of his drinking but that their narcissistic ways would never allow them to see it. My dad maybe, but my mother, never! Even so, I held my tongue and just listened with a sense of loathing. Sandy had mailed me three books and emailed me several links about dealing with alcoholics and coping with their physical and mental withdrawals. Yet, after hearing her cruel remarks, I doubt she had read any of them. I swiftly deleted the emails and took the books to the local AA chapter in Tetonia. I think not keeping the books was, in a way, my act of defiance toward my family. I wanted to show them I could do this on my own. I guess I didn’t want any preconceived ideas of what to expect, if that makes any sense. When I lost my husband, there hadn’t been a book out there or any advice from a friend that could make the situation any easier. And as a child of dysfunctional parents, I had learned to be defiant, self-ive, and strong. It was my way of dealing

with all the fear and hate that was my upbringing. The only tool I needed to help my brother was human comion. He was my blood, and we could get through this together. It all sounded good in my head, but truthfully I was terrified. However, I knew the best way to heal was to surround yourself with animals. My plan was to expose Darien to old-fashioned hard physical labor and the unconditional love of animals. It had worked for me, and I knew it would work for Darien.

The airport was busy for a Tuesday morning in early May. Emmy and I stood near the terminal Jetway where the ages would enter into the airport. The Jackson airport was small, with only five gates, which made it easy to fly in and out of. Picking up engers was also easy; just park and walk a few yards right into the airport, and there was the arrival area. I held Emmy’s leash with a tight grip, my nervousness again making me sweat. Emmy sat quietly while periodically glancing up at me. I had checked on his flight, which was on time and arriving in two minutes. I quickly looked at my phone to make sure I had his phone number saved in my list of s. I found it and sent him a text: I am standing with a black lab next to the big wooden post. Meredith. My emotions were running high as I saw his plane touch down and race by the windows. When I heard the roar of the jet’s engines, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Memories of Blake quickly enter my thoughts. I forced my emotions down, where they burned in my throat. I heard the woman on the intercom announce that the Delta flight had just arrived from Minneapolis. It was Darien’s first time flying in an airplane, and I was sure he was feeling a lot more anxiety than I was. I heard my phone ping with a text. It was Darien. Just landed … I’ll find you. I read it three times trying to prepare myself for our meeting. I hadn’t seen him since I left home at the age of eighteen. He had been twenty-one and already a seasoned alcoholic. I spotted the first engers making their way into the Jetway. I strained to see

each face, hoping to recognize my big brother. Emmy stood and wagged her tail, as she also saw the wave of people coming our way. Then, towering over a group of older women, I saw him. He looked the same, but like my sister had said, he had aged. His big brown eyes were still as tender as I ed. His thick black hair was overgrown and looked unwashed, and I saw him shake his head to get the hair out of his eyes. I waved my arm over my head, hoping he would see me. My heart was beating rapidly, and my excitement was reaching fever pitch. He spotted me and delivered a shy smile. I couldn’t help myself; I ran up to him. I let go of Emmy’s leash and quickly wrapped my arms around Darien and held him, pressing my face in his chest. I felt his long arms pull me to him, and he held me tightly. My emotions were overwhelming me; my tears rolled down my face and onto his shirt. Our bond was instant, the years between us gone. For those few seconds, Darien and I were somewhere else, not in a public airport. We were children again, doing our best to deal with the life we were given. Having each other’s backs back then was paramount to our survival. Then I felt Emmy jump up on us. Her comic relief seemed to help curb our emotions and give us time to reel in the tears. Darien stroked her head with his hand and then looked at me with a tender smile. I didn’t know what to say; I was crying and laughing at once. So I just introduced Emmy to him. Darien loved dogs like I did, so I knew Emmy would be an important tool in his road to sobriety. I could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath, and I could feel him tremble a little as he held me. I was sure it was the only way he could have made it through the flight. For that matter, alcohol was how he made it through life. Darien had told me years ago that his drinking escalated when he needed help dealing with his anxiety. As a child, Darien had been very shy, even around our parents, mainly because he was afraid of them. We just stood there looking at each other, smiling. I reached up and touched his warm cheek and wiped away a tear. His cheeks were flushed red, and his eyes had dark rings under them. He looked gaunt. His cheekbones were hollowed, and he was at least twenty pounds under weight. “I am sorry about Blake, Mer.” His voice was deep and shaky, the words a struggle for him to utter. Even with the booze to calm him, he was still nervous when talking to me. It pained me to see Darien this way.

“It’s fine now … Time really does heal all wounds,” I told him, before we walked toward the luggage carousal. “Meredith Blackman?” I heard a male voice say my maiden name. I quickly turned around and saw Levi Wagner, a lover from my past. I could feel my face flush red as I stood there speechless. Darien walked off to give us privacy, my uneasiness easy to spot on my shocked face. Emmy followed Darien to the luggage carousal, her leash dragging on the floor behind her. I noticed that Darien was unaware that Emmy was following him. “Levi, wow. What a surprise. It’s been what … sixteen years?” I managed to say, my face now feeling hot. I looked toward Darien and Emmy to see where they were, trying to avoid Levi’s familiar face. He was even more handsome than I ed which made me even more uncomfortable. “I am sorry about your husband, Blake. The press are such Jackals … How are you doing?” he questioned. His words were sincere, and he tenderly looked into my tear-filled eyes. My memories of our year together suddenly came rushing back. I had meet Levi as I was pumping gas one summer afternoon on my day off. I was twenty and had been living in Jackson for two years. I had recognized him from the many real estate billboards and publications in the local newspapers. I looked up from the pump and noticed him standing against his black Land Rover, talking on his car phone. After he hung up, I yelled over to him that I knew him. I said, “You’re that sexy realtor I’ve been telling my cousin about.” I kid you not, that’s what I said to the most eligible and rich real estate mogul in town. I was unfiltered when it came to men, and it often got me what I wanted. Levi had looked shocked but also charmed by my honest statement. He delivered a smile that was both sexy and suggestive. He was probably ten years my senior, but I didn’t care. He stood about six foot one, and his salt-and-pepper hair, suntanned face, and strong jawline made his light-blue eyes shine. His white teeth were perfect, along with everything else. What I said to him was true; I had told Maddy about how sexy I thought he was. Now that I had met him, I thought it was a great opportunity to tell him. The next thing I know, Levi and I are driving away in his Land Rover to his multimillion-dollar bachelor pad. It was late afternoon on a warm summer day,

and the view from his one-level home was breathtaking. It was literally situated right across from Grand Teton National Park, in the small town of Kelly. As we entered his gated compound, I saw a small herd of wild bison grazing only yards from his home. Levi gave me a quick tour of his professionally decorated estate before escorting me to his master suite. The entire wall facing west was floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the Tetons. As I gazed out the wall of windows, I felt Levi come up to me from behind and put his warm hands on my bare shoulders. His touch filled me with excitement, and it wasn’t long before we were both undressed and discovering each other’s bodies on his massive bed. I had been with several guys over the previous two years, but Levi was the first real man I had been with. I learned that fact soon after we started kissing. Levi was tender and unhurried as he discovered what my young body had to offer. Gently he cupped my breast and sucked on my nipple. Then I felt him kiss his way down my stomach before landing in a spot no man had ever explored before with his tongue. I was surprised and excited as his warm, soft tongue caressed my clitoris. The sensation was so intense and wonderful that I came in minutes, arching my back as I welcomed his erotic touch. I wanted him inside me. I wanted to feel his cock deep inside me. He sensed my yearning and entered me, but it took some effort. You see, his dick was the largest I have ever seen, and at first it frightened me when I saw it. But now, as he filled my wet, tight cunt with his member, I moaned with delight. Nothing with Levi was hurried or selfish. He was there for my satisfaction and pleasure, and I loved it. Levi was the first man I made love to. With the other men it had been just sex. At the age of twenty, I had learned the difference from a man who was ten years older.

Now, sixteen years later, we met again. “You know, I am doing okay. It’s been seven months now and thankfully my story is old news. The press has other lives to destroy. It’s great to see you, but …” Again I looked for Darien and Emmy.

“Oh … I understand. You’ve got company. I just … I saw you and … I had to talk to you. You’re still just as beautiful as ever, Mer.” His words made me blush again. I would have married Levi if he had asked me. Unfortunately, after a year together, I painfully discovered that he had recently been engaged to a woman from New York. You could say that our relationship ended right then. Levi tried to explain. He tried to apologize, but I never could find the strength to speak to him again. I was heartbroken and angry at him for leading me on while he had a relationship with another woman. It took me a long time to get over our relationship. I was in love with Levi, and to have had it end that way was devastating. I found out after I met Blake that Levi never married that rich real estate broker from New York. In fact, he had never married. My cousin Maddy kept up with the local gossip in Jackson. By that time, Blake and I had moved to Teton Valley, Idaho. It was a small town on the other side of the Tetons, about thirty miles northwest of Jackson. It was a quiet farm and ranching community that we loved.

“He’s my brother … Darien. He’s here to live with me. He’s an alcoholic. To be honest, I haven’t seen him in eighteen years, and I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can … I am sorry … It’s great to see you, Levi. I need to find my brother.” With those words, I quickly walked off, leaving Levi with my confession. I wove around the crowd of engers who were waiting for their luggage, searching for Emmy and Darien. My head was swimming with emotions after seeing Levi and with the memories of my dead husband, not to mention the stress of Darien being here and us now suddenly being roommates. I feel the makings of a panic attack coming on, so I stopped to catch my breath before going any further. The airport noise helped stifle my thoughts as I closed my eyes. I was thankful that by the time we collected Darien’s three large suitcases, Levi was no longer around. I was feeling a lot better, however I think it was me who needed a drink now. Darien and I were quiet for most of the drive home. I was thankful he didn’t ask

me about Levi, but guys were good about that. If it had been Grace or Maddy, we would have been having a deep, deep conversation about running into my old lover who broke my heart. The hour-long car ride wouldn’t be long enough to discuss this epic meeting. I smiled to myself at the thought of them engrossed in the emotional of our meeting. My mind was on Levi again as we headed up the steep mountain . I saw Darien taking in the new scenery. Having never been out of Minnesota, he had to be captivated by the mountains. I noticed his hands were shaking. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t. Instead he said something. “It’s beautiful here.” I smiled and told him that’s why I’d moved here. The silence was killing me, but I didn’t want to overwhelm him. I wanted to ease him into my life as slowly as possible. “I live about an hour away, just over the into Idaho on the west side of the Tetons. The only way to get there is to drive over the then head north. I live along the Idaho-Wyoming border. If the government would just drill a fuckin’ tunnel through the mountains, I could be at the airport in ten minutes.” I looked over and saw him smile. As kids, I had always tried to make him laugh. “Have you lived here long?” Darien asked, his question taking me by surprise. “Yes … for eighteen years now,” I answered. “Wow … where did you live before that?” It was like I was talking with someone who I had just met. The fact that he couldn’t where I lived was shocking. It had to be because of his disease. “With Mom and Dad, silly.” I said, trying to keep my response lighthearted. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.” I saw him blush a little while avoiding my eyes. Neither of us say anything more, until we drove up to the gate of my ranch. Darien read the sign and said, “Thistle Dew… I get it.” And then he smiled at me. I smiled back and noticed that he looked tired and decidedly drunk. Emmy wasn’t happy about riding in the back seat, and she let me know by

whining when we drove over the wooden bridge. “Wow, nice place, Mer. You’ve got a real ranch here.” “Thank you. I really love it here. Jackson is too crazy for me. It’s quiet here; no masses of tourists or overdevelopment.” I helped Darien haul his bags up to his second-story bedroom suite. He was quiet as I showed him my house. I then left him to be with himself as I took Emmy outside to play as I had promised her. I asked myself if he had alcohol in his bags. I was sure he did; he had to know that I wouldn’t have any in the house. I told myself that I was not going to treat him like a child, but then again, he was here to recover. I couldn’t ignore the truth or be silent much longer. I reminded myself that he was not going to stop overnight. I knew that I was in for an ambitious battle with his disease. I wasn’t sure how I was going to help him, yet I knew it was going to take a long time. Eighteen years was a long time, and right now I just wanted us to get to know each other again. I was concerned about Darien’s mental capacity, which I found had been compromised. I did read that his memory would improve if he stopped drinking. I had discussed Darien’s situation at length with Grace. As my dear friend and a physician, she would be helping me with the medical challenges we would encounter during our fight to get him sober. I wasn’t sure how Darien would react to me telling him that Grace would be included in this personal matter, but I had no choice. I was going to need a doctor’s professional guidance through this battle. I felt fortunate to have Grace in my life, and I knew Darien would see what a special and kind person she was. I wasn’t sure when would be a good time to introduce him to her. I wasn’t going to lie or trick him. I would tell him she was there to help. I watched, as Emmy chased her ball across the yard. We played for about five minutes, and then I called her in to help me make lunch. She stood there for a few seconds looking at me—her way of saying “No, I want to stay out here.” “Okay, girl … but stay out of the pasture.” The house was quiet as I walk into the kitchen. The early-afternoon sun was flooding in through the wall of windows that faced east toward the Tetons. As I washed the lettuce in the sink, I could see my neighbors’ tractor in the distance planting barley for the season. I could also see Grace’s cattle grazing to the

southeast. I decide to have lunch out on the deck, so I ran out there and washed off the stone table. The temperature had climbed fast from what it had been that morning. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the aspen and cottonwood trees were displaying their first signs of green leaves. The views from the deck were breathtaking, with the four peaks of the Tetons and Table Mountain all draped in snow. There was also Fred’s Mountain, where the ski resort was. I loved this time of year, because it was spring in the valley and still winter up in the high country. It made for a dramatic contrast of seasons. I quickly turned on the grill before going back inside. I wanted to make a special meal for Darien, so I was going to grill wild salmon and place it over fresh greens with balsamic vinaigrette. I was a little intimidated because he was a chef, but he was also my brother, which made it less intimidating. I was hoping he would teach me some of his skills in the kitchen, because, you see, cooking wasn’t one of my strong points. I heard him coming down the wooden stairs, his shoes making a thump thump sound. I had begged Blake for years to put down some sort of carpet runner to help with the noise and to make the stairs less slippery. I was feeling nervous again, because I wasn’t sure what to say to him. His silence was making me feel uncomfortable. I am such a gregarious person, and my friends are also very talkative. “Hey, I’m making us lunch. I’m sure you had an early morning—” “I’m not hungry,” he interrupted me. Then he sat down at the barstool across from me at the sink. I turned my attention to the vegetables in the sink, and told myself that it was time that I gave him my ground rules. “Darien … I know you are an alcoholic, and I know you can’t stop on your own. I’m here, and I am going to always be here for you. But I will not sit by and let you drink yourself to death. So, I have a few ground rules if we are going to do this together. If you are going to drink, then you have to eat … no exceptions.” My tone was kind but firm. Darien avoided my stare and looked down at his fidgeting hands. “Fine … can I help with anything?” He looked up at my face and grinned.

I was surprised by his calm reaction, and his response gave me confidence. “I have two salmon steaks on the grill. If you want them done right, you may want to take over,” I said before handing him the tongs and platter. “No problem.” We smiled at each other, and he got up and went out on the deck. After our lunch, of which Darien ate everything, I decided to introduce him to my horses. I had three students coming that afternoon for lessons, so we needed to bring in Traveller and Strider. I told Darien my plan, and he said he had to change clothes. He quickly walked away and headed up to his room. I hated myself for thinking that the real reason he was going up to his room was to drink. I was happy with our first talk about his drinking, but even so, I had a feeling it wouldn’t go so calmly once I cut him off. I reminded myself to call Grace later and have her come over tomorrow to meet Darien. I didn’t want him getting too comfortable with our current situation. In the garage, I grabbed two folding chairs. “What are the chairs for?” Darien asked as he followed me out of the garage. “Well, I’m going to place these two chairs in the pasture, and we are going to sit on them. Horses are prey animals, and they are cautious of anything different in their environment. By having you lower than them, it’ll show them that you are not a threat. They will be able to smell and explore you as you sit there. I usually have people sit on the ground, but I didn’t think you’d like that. There’s horse shit everywhere out there.” I could tell that Darien was nervous after hearing me explain my plan. Usually I would have the person sit out there alone, because the horses already knew me. It was better when the person was by themselves, but I didn’t think Darien was up for that. “They won’t trample me?” Darien questioned, his words again shaky. I could see the fear building in his drunken eyes. “No … Why would they trample you? … Darien, horses are not dangerous creatures. Trust me. If a horse were to hurt you, it would be because a human mistreated it.” Emmy saw us and came running up from the pond. I opened the gate and had

Darien carry the chairs to the middle of the thirty-acre pasture. My horses were all the way at the other end. I had Darien sit down in his chair. With my fingers in my mouth, I whistled loudly. I saw the terror on Darien’s face as he looked over his shoulder to see my horses galloping toward us. I quickly sat down next to Darien, who was noticeably panicked. Emmy sat by my side and started to lick her wet paws. I placed my hand on Darien’s and told him to close his eyes and to calm his thoughts. His hand was cold and trembling. He peered over at me, and I nodded for him to close his eyes. He took a deep breath in and then out. I could smell the raw scent of whiskey from his heavy exhale. I had done this experiment with several people, and each time the results had been gratifying. It helped people who were afraid of horses realize their ignorance and understand these beautiful creatures. Our backs were turned to them, and I heard them walking up to us. A few of them blew the dust from their nostrils. Darien squeezed my hand tightly when he heard them blow their noses. I could hear them breathing before I opened my eyes. Geronimo walked up to Darien and bowed his head, tenderly smelling Darien’s black hair. Darien slowly opened his eyes and saw Geronimo’s blue eye looking at him, only inches from his face. “This is my new guy, Geronimo” I whispered. “I think he likes you. I want you to slowly raise your hand and let him smell it.” I said softly. Darien did as I asked. I could see that his hand was trembling a lot. Geronimo touched his hand with his nose and smelled it. I was shocked to see Geronimo being the first to explore our new friend. Most of the time it was Traveller who made the first introduction, while the other horses held back until he was done saying hello. Instead, Traveller was on my side, playing with my hair with his warm lips. He then spotted Emmy and smelled her back. I told Darien to be quiet and not to speak, to just use his touch and his body language. I introduced Darien to my other five horses: Traveller, the gray Percheron/quarter horse cross; Strider, the bay German Hanoverian; Disney, a black-and-white-paint quarter horse; River, a buckskin quarter horse; and Coal, a black Percheron. They all took turns exploring Darien and smelling him. After a few minutes, Darien relaxed and was enjoying their company. I even noticed that

his hands weren’t shaking, and he had a big smile on his face. The image filled me with emotion, and it wasn’t long before Geronimo was back seeking out Darien’s touch and company. The other five lost interest after about ten minutes and started to graze on the grass around us, but Geronimo wouldn’t leave Darien’s side. At one point, he even rested his chin on Darien’s shoulder. I explained to Darien that this was an endearing thing horses do when showing affection. Geronimo appeared to have a strong connection with Darien, and again I was surprised but pleased. Darien was stroking Geronimo’s face and neck with his hand. Then what happened next was amazing, and it had never happened before during one of my introduction sessions. Geronimo stepped back a few steps and slowly laid down next to us. The look on Darien’s face was priceless. We both looked like kids on Christmas morning as we sat quietly while Geronimo rested his chin on the ground near Darien’s feet. I squeezed Darien’s hand and gave him a big smile. He had tears welling up in his eyes, as he felt the connection between man and beast. Geronimo napped for about fifteen minutes before he lifted his big head and struggled to stand on all four feet. He then shook his entire body like a dog and let out a heavy sigh. He licked his lips and then walked off to his herd grazing a few yards away. We then stood, gathered up Traveller and Strider, and brought them up to the barn. We put them each in a stall and gave them a flake of alfalfa. “I have never had a horse lie down next to someone before Darien. Geronimo really has a special bond with you. The Native Americans would call Geronimo your soul paint; forever would your souls travel as one.” “That’s beautiful. It was unbelievable. They are such gentle animals. I always thought they were mean. I never liked going with you to the barn when we were kids,” Darien confessed. “It’s because you didn’t understand them. This way, you get to know each other on equal . You did great; I am proud of you.” I hugged Darien next to the goat pen. During our hug, the whole gang of them hollered at us, which made us both laugh. “You have to go in and meet my goats. They are such comical characters. You’ll love them. They’re all does. Lucy is the sweetest; she’s the

one with the white face.” I took Darien over to the gate and brought him into the goats’ enclosure. “Oh, watch out for their turds … I need to clean this out soon.” Darien and I stepped over several piles of droppings and greeted the needy clan. I laughed as the goats stormed Darien and tried to climb up his legs, their hooves leaving trails of mud on his jeans. “Whoa. Why are they doing that?” Darien asked while he backed up to the fence with the goats still in hot pursuit. I was laughing to the point that I was crying. They were like crazed female fans mobbing their teen heartthrob. Emmy was barking outside the enclosure as she witnessed the goats’ affectionate assault on our guest. Darien was also laughing as he tried to pet the needy creatures, which had now soiled his new jeans. “You needed to break those jeans in anyway,” I ribbed through my laughter. It was so great to see Darien laughing. I don’t think he had laughed like that in years. A good belly laugh was good medicine, I told myself. We went inside the house and got cleaned up. I wanted to take Darien to the local market to get groceries for the week before my students arrived for their lessons. I hadn’t been to the market since right after Blake died, a week after the plane crash. That experience was unbearable. Everyone recognized me from the onslaught of television stories. Even those who knew me were standoffish that day. I could hear their whispers and see their uncomfortable stares as I wheeled the cart down the aisles. I knew what they were thinking, and it made the fish bowl I was living in even smaller. I soon discovered that a reporter had followed me into the grocery store. And while I was retrieving a carton of eggs from the refrigerated case, he bombarded me with explicit questions about Blake and the crash. I was so embarrassed that I abandoned my cart full of food and ran out of the store to find refuge in my truck. I was trembling and quietly weeping with my head resting on the steering wheel. The experience was devastating, and it gave me a glimpse into the inhumanity of man. After my unfavorable episode at the grocery store, my dear housekeeper, Karen, volunteered to go for me once a week. I stayed in my house for weeks as the press camped out near my ranch. I asked myself how celebrities faced the constant scrutiny of the press and their prying questions, along with their

obnoxious assault of flash photography. I truly became a prisoner in my own home. Every time I went out to care for my animals, I could hear them scramble and yell, “There she is!” They would shoot pictures of me with their high-powered camera lenses and scream out their questions. Most of the time I couldn’t hear them, because I would usually wear my iPod to drown out their presence. I cancelled all my lessons and training until April. When spring came along, only a few students continued on with me, most of them close friends.

The drive to the store had me a little nervous, as memories of seven months ago came storming back. I didn’t tell Darien about what had happened back then, not even about my housekeeper taking over my weekly shopping chores. I felt seven months away was long enough, and having Darien with me would provide me with some stability. It was always easier going into battle with a buddy. I methodically pulled a cart out of the cart chain from inside the store. Darien quietly followed behind me like Blake used to do. The image filled my mind with pleasant memories. This distracted me as we ed the sushi bar and Chinese buffet. Darien was impressed with the quality and size of the market for such a small community. As a chef, he was now excited about our shopping trip. “Get whatever you want. I will get what I need,” I told him as I walked over to the international cheese case. Darien was off like a kid in a candy store, taking the cart with him. Over my shoulder I could feel someone staring at me. I turned and saw two women watching and pointing in my direction. Instantly, I could feel my face flush red. I quickly walked away with my head down and found Darien at the meat counter. He was inspecting the beef and had already purchased fresh fish and clams. I stood next to him and tried to become invisible. Darien peered over at me and could tell that something was wrong. “What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” I could spot the concern on Darien’s face, as he stared at me and then looked around the store.

“I’m fine. Just some old memories. That’s all … they have great beef here—all local, grass-fed beef, from right here in the valley.” I tried to pull myself together by talking about meat. Then an older man walked by Darien and me and did a double take in our direction. The expression on his face was neither pleasant nor neighborly. This time Darien witnessed the intrusive reaction from my local townspeople. “What the hell is your problem?” Darien barked. His voice was deep, and he sounded just like our father. Darien’s valiant confrontation made me flinch. The man was shocked, to say the least, and he turned away and shuffled off into the produce section. “Darien, it’s okay. They’re just curious.” I could see the anger on Darien’s face as he watched the man walk away. He now looked like our father, his face red with anger. I was shocked by Darien’s reaction, because I had never seen this side of him. Nevertheless, I was his little sister, and he was just expressing his protective instincts. The meat manager, Joe, heard Darien’s foul words and quickly turned around from the prep counter. He spotted me and immediately turned back around. I decided that I was not going to be treated this way, for I hadn’t done anything wrong. “Hey, Joe. We would like four of your best filets.” Joe slowly turned around and faced me and Darien. He avoided eye with me, and asked Darien which filets he would like from the case. I felt so uncomfortable at that moment, I wanted to scream. Darien pointed to four small filets toward the back. Joe didn’t utter a word, nor did Darien. Joe grabbed the meat and whisked them over to the counter to wrap them in white paper. He then handed the meat to Darien and walked away without saying a word. I was on the verge of tears as my local townspeople snubbed me. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction, so I swallowed my emotions and wheeled the cart over to the refrigerated meat cases. I just stood there as Darien inspected the pork for the best cuts. I noticed that Darien had already moved on from the encounter, whereas I was falling into an emotional tail spin. There weren’t many customers in the store that afternoon, which was good. I felt a little weird when we ed the beer-and-wine aisle. Darien just ed right by it, wheeling the cart toward the egg-and-butter case. I really wanted a bottle

of wine, but I knew that wasn’t an option. As we finished our shopping, I saw the pharmacist, who was a friend. “Jill,” I called out to her as she filled a prescription behind the counter. She heard her name and peered up at me. She saw that it was me and offered a weak smile and a nod before turning her attention back to her prescription filling. Her rude reaction toward me, was my breaking point. The tears burned my eyes, and I had this overwhelming need to flee. Darien hadn’t witnessed our exchange because he was in the aisle of aftershave and razors getting what he needed there. I walked away from Jill and grabbed Darien by the arm. I told him that we needed to check out now! Jill had been one of my students before the crash. I had taught her how to ride on Disney. I had done the same experiment with her and the horses in the pasture that I had done with Darien. I Jill had been weeping with joy when the horses gathered around her while she sat on the ground. She had grown up afraid of horses, having had one run off with her as a child. I explained to her why horses bolted and why my horses would never do that. Now today, seven months later, she acted like I was a stranger. The woman at the checkout was new, which was a blessing, because I didn’t think I could take any more. “I am sorry, Mer. I shouldn’t have said anything to that man. I sometimes get a little … crazy,” Darien confessed as we pulled into the garage. “Oh, Darien, you were great. It’s nice to have a man stick up for me now and again.” I looked over at him and forced a smile, but inside I was feeling sick. I had really hoped that, now that time had ed, everyone would forget the past. “I want you to meet a very dear friend of mine, Grace,” I continued. “She’s a doctor. She runs the hospital in town. You will love her, honestly.” I looked to see what his facial expression revealed. “Sure … will she be coming for dinner? I could grill those filets.” He seemed excited about cooking, which was great, because I needed him excited about something. He needed a reason to keep fighting, and if that thing was cooking, then that was enough. I would do everything I could to help make cooking his ion again.

Darien wasn’t fortunate enough to have a spouse to give him that reason to fight his demons. He had had a few serious relationships over the years, but they couldn’t compete with his true love, booze. I couldn’t blame those women for leaving him, but I knew it was easier to get through life’s struggles with someone by your side who loves you unconditionally. Darien didn’t have that person, and that could be the difference between getting well and drinking himself to death. My hope was that I could be his person. “I could ask her. I hadn’t thought about dinner, but I guess that would be nice. Are you sure you want to cook? I was just thinking about—” I stopped myself and redirected my thought. “I think dinner would be great.” What I was going to say was “having her over for drinks.” That’s what Grace and I did every Friday and Saturday night: we’d drink a lot of margaritas, eat bowls of popcorn, and watch movies. It had become our post-Blake tradition. Grace had never married and hadn’t dated anyone all winter. We called ourselves the “Old Horse Hags.” We’d laugh a lot and sometimes cry over silly love stories. At least once a month, my cousin Maddy would leave her two boys with her husband, John, and us. She’d spend the weekend with us, and we’d gallop horses through the snow-covered fields and have campfires. We’d watch a lot of movies and drink way too much while acting like teenagers. The time I spent with my girls helped me get though some tough times during the long, dark winter months. “I want to cook. And your kitchen is awesome. And we got all this food.” Darien turned around to look at the back seat, which was filled with bags of groceries. It was a good thing that we hadn’t brought Emmy, because there was literally no room for her back there. “Okay, I’ll call her. She might be on call tonight. If not tonight, then maybe tomorrow night.” I was excited about Darien meeting Grace. Darien took charge and unloaded all the groceries. I thanked him before I headed out to the barn to get the horses ready for the lessons. I took my phone with me so I could call Grace while I was tacking up the horses. “Grace, hey, he’s here, and everything is going well so far. I’m sure you’re working, but Darien wants to cook for you tonight. I wasn’t sure if you were off. I have lessons until five; text me or call me after then. Love you.” I hung up

and put my phone in my back pocket. “Well, hello, handsome boys.” Both Traveller and Strider were hanging their heads out of their stalls’ doorways. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, but its work time for the both of you.” I walked up and kissed both of them on the nose before I haltered them. “Did you get a hold of her?” “Oh, Darien you frightened me. I didn’t know you were there.” Darien was standing in the barn doorway, leaning up against the wall. “I got her voicemail. I’m sure she’s at work. I told her to call me after five. You can help me groom. Grab that tote over there and lead Traveller over to the cross ties. That’s it …take the lead rope and stand on the left side …there you go …we always work on the left side of the horse. Watch out for his big feet. Stand at his shoulder …good.” I showed Darien how to pick out their feet and how to curry comb and brush their coat. Darien really seemed to enjoy the grooming process. I could hear him talking to Traveller as I walked over to get Strider from his stall. I had discovered as a child that it was easy to talk to animals. A few years ago, I had worked with several mentally challenged children, and it was amazing how, while they were not verbal around humans, they would have long conversations with the horses. Their parents were also shocked by their children’s transformations after spending time with the horses. Animals, I felt, were the best therapy, and I was witnessing it now with Darien. My phone rang, and I saw that it was Grace. “Hey, girl …great …no problem … okay … no, we have everything …okay, love you …see you at six.” I turned around and saw that Darien was smiling after hearing my conversation with Grace. “She’s coming over at six. You better get in that kitchen and work your magic,” I said with a smile. “I will finish grooming Traveller.” Darien tenderly patted Traveller on the neck and hurried off to the house.

CHAPTER 4

T HE SUN WAS HANGING ABOVE the Big Hole Mountains to the West as Grace buzzed the gate intercom. I ran from the kitchen into the entryway so I could press the button to remotely open the gate for her. She was driving her gold Subaru Outback, and I could see that she had brought along her dog, Emmy’s boyfriend, Doc. Doc was of intimidating size but was as gentle as a mouse. He was a Mastiff and had a bad habit of lifting his leg and peeing on everything. A few times I had caught him peeing on my antique hutch. Because of that, Grace kept him outside for the most part when she brought him over. That way, he and Emmy could roll around in the grass and play for hours without destroying my house. The aroma of roasted garlic and butter permeated my house as Darien finished the last details of our meal. Instead of wine, I had sparkling cider. Boring! I had the formal dining room set with my best dishes and silverware. I lit the candles and started a fire in the fireplace before turning on some classical music to set the mood. For the first time in a while I was excited about an evening. I heard the front door open. “Grace! You’re right on time.” We both hugged, and she kissed me on the cheek. I felt my emotions welling up as I held her tightly. “I am so excited to meet your brother. It smells like heaven in here. I brought a game for later,” Grace declared. Grace was a game person, and every time we would get together, she would bring out cards or a board game. I, on the other hand, hated playing games. Fortunately, the movie would usually run late, and we would be too tired to play. She handed me her light coat, and I hung it in the hall closet. Grace waited for me as I hung up her coat. I then noticed that she was dressed up. “Wow, are you going somewhere special after you leave here?” I teased. Her medium-length, auburn hair was styled with soft, loose curls. Her makeup

was done beautifully to accentuate her hazel eyes. Her green knit sweater and black slacks were right off the Macy’s rack. “Hey, I don’t get the chance to dress up anymore.” We both laughed while we strolled into the kitchen. Darien was hunched over the stove and turned around when he heard us. He smiled and then nervously peered down and wiped his hands on the white apron. I spotted the perspiration on his forehead as he ran his hand through his thick black hair and looked up at us. A classic James Dean move, I told myself, and I noticed what a handsome man he really was. Grace walked up and extended her hand to him. Her five-foot, petite form was dwarfed by Darien’s six-foot-tall frame. “Nice to meet you, Darien … it smells wonderful, and thankfully I am starving.” Grace’s smile was infectious, and Darien grinned and shook her small hand. His face flushed red, and he couldn’t seem to find the words. So I spoke for him. It was what I had always done when we were kids. “Grace, let’s let Darien get back to his cooking. Can I get you a glass of cider?” Grace turned around and stared at me. She understood what I was trying to do and followed me into the dining room. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Darien walking down the hall before he sprinted up the stairs. “Give him time … or should I say, give the booze time to get into his blood stream,” I said with humor. “Mer, that’s awful … cider? Really? Maybe we should have our own secret stash in the pantry?” We both laughed loudly while I poured us each a chilled glass of cider. We sat down in the living room until Darien got back to the kitchen. I had a roaring fire going in the large, river-stone fireplace. I sat in the chair next to the fire. The warmth felt good, as the evenings brought cool temperatures to the high country. I witnessed Darien slip back into the kitchen, so I got up to see if he needed my help. Grace smiled and said she was good sitting alone. I saw her grab her phone to check her messages. Darien was standing next to the stove. “Hey, can I help you serve or … is

everything ready?” He kept doing whatever he was doing and said over his shoulder. “I’m just preparing our plates. You can take this one when I’m finished.” I walked over to him. “You need an oven mitt. The plates are hot.” “Oh, okay.” I grabbed two mitts from the drawer and slid them on. “Grace, it’s ready! Come sit down.” I put the hot plate on one of the place settings. We all were seated, and my delicious plate of food had my mouth watering. Darien had prepared pan-seared filet mignon with roasted garlic and browned butter and twice baked Idaho potatoes loaded with fresh chives, sour cream, and butter. He had broiled asparagus spears with black pepper and olive oil and then dusted them with ground Himalayan salt. He even made fresh dinner rolls with cinnamon butter spread that melted in our mouths. And for desert, he threw together my favorite: crème brûlée with fresh raspberries and a mint leaf. Bravo! It was one of the best meals I think I’ve ever had. Everything was so flavorful, and all the textures were delicious. If he was going to cook for me like that every night, I was going to be over two hundred pounds. Our meal was so good that we all were silent for most of it. I was pleased to see that Darien was eating as well. He really looked happy as he listened to Grace go on and on about his cooking. Grace was one of those people who expressed her gratitude with such grace, no pun intended. Her endless compliments were sincere and genuine. She made you feel so good about yourself, and I could see that Darien was enjoying her company. Regrettably, Grace, being a doctor, sometimes didn’t have the tactfulness she should have. She and I had never discussed when or how we would tell Darien about our plan. Did we even have a plan? I wasn’t sure. “Darien, I’m not sure if Mer told you that I’m a medical doctor. I have treated many alcoholics over the years, and I want you to know that I can provide medical treatment at my hospital to help you deal with the withdrawals. My hospital is well equipped to deal with your situation.” Her tone was sincere but a little to straight forward. I could see Darien’s face turning red and his anger building. He looked over at me and then down at his plate. Without a word, he stood, grabbed his plate, and stormed off to the kitchen. Grace looked stunned by his reaction. “Have you talked to him about this, Mer? It’s important that we don’t dance around the facts. We have to be honest and confront what’s going on here,” Grace whispered.

“Oh, you want to confront what’s going on? Okay, Doctor. What the fuck do you know about my life?” Darien had walked back into the dining room without us noticing. His harsh outburst took both Grace and me by surprise. “Darien!” I yelled. “Mer, its fine. He’s right. I don’t know anything about his situation,” Grace said with regret. “Damn right you don’t, bitch!” Darien was standing only a few feet from Grace, who was still sitting. I could see Darien sway a little after he spoke. He was clearly very drunk, and I saw the violence building up inside him. This was clearly not the time or place for an intervention. “Darien, you’re too drunk for us to discuss your treatment. Why don’t you—” “Fuck you, Meredith. Just fuck you. What are you my savior now, huh? You take me in after your asshole husband—” “Stop right there! I will not let you bully your sister. Meredith has sacrificed her life for you. She’s opened her heart and home.” Grace by this time had pushed her chair out and was standing only a foot from Darien. She wasn’t frightened but was rather angry at him for attacking me. “She’s been through more than you could ever know, so I ask you to stop attacking her. I love her, and she doesn’t deserve this.” Grace was now crying as she looked over at me. I was also crying as I sat at the table. I was feeling both defeated and physically drained of all my energy. It had been a long day for both Darien and me. All I wanted to do was climb into bed and forget this night had ever happened. “Grace, honey, Darien … it’s been a long day for all of us, and we aren’t going to solve this crisis tonight. Darien, your meal was the best I’ve ever had … honestly. Karen will be in tomorrow morning to clean up the kitchen, so why don’t you go up to your room and get some rest.” I slid out my chair and stood after I spoke. My legs were feeling weak. “I’ve tried before and it fuckin’ doesn’t work. Nothing works. You’re wasting your time, both of you. Why can’t I just drink?” Darien had settled down a little, and his words were now filled with sadness, not anger. He really looked like a desperate man broken to his soul, his disease possessing him to his core.

“Darien, honey, it will work this time. We have to try. Grace and I won’t give up on you. We will be here for the long haul, no matter how long it takes.” I walked up to him and held his hands in mine. “I promise, Darien, I will not let you die of this disease, and that’s what it is—a disease. It’s not that you’re weak or selfish. Your body has adapted to your intake of alcohol to the point that it can’t live without it. If you just stop cold turkey, you could have permanent brain damage. That’s why we need Grace and her medications, so we can control your withdrawal symptoms.” I stated with sincerity. “I have done that how many times? I am good for a few weeks, and then …” “Darien, the hospital was only dealing with your physical withdrawals. We also have to deal with your brain and its mental addiction. Listen to me; I want you to fight for you, because you are worth fighting for. And I want you to fight for me … or for cooking. You deserve to be happy; I want you to believe that. You have to believe that. I have gone through my own struggles with our past, with the abuse, with Blake’s death. But I went and got help. I went to see a shrink, and he really helped me a few years ago and again recently.” I tenderly touched Darien’s face with my hand. “What abuse?” Darien asked, shocked by my words. “Mom, our childhood. Darien … my God, I don’t know how you lived with them,” I remarked. “I don’t much from when we were kids. I she was a royal bitch.” We both laughed. “I found out that I blocked out a lot from our past. Our minds do this to preserve our sanity, I guess.” I paused. “Grace, I hate to be rude, but I am so tired, and I am sure Darien is also. He had a seven o’clock flight this morning.” “Hey, no problem. I’m gone. Thank you again for dinner, Darien. I’m sorry for —” Darien cut her off. “I’m the one who needs to apologize, Grace. I am just so tired of how people treat me—like a child or a sick person. I live day after day fueling this demon inside me, and in return, this evil monster is killing me. I don’t have a life; I live to feed this parasite.” His descriptive explanation of his disease left both Grace and me in tears again.

“Well, then it will be our goal to terminate this parasite inside you, Darien. No matter what it takes,” I declared before I hugged him. Grace touched my shoulder and quietly walked out of the room.

I washed my face over the sink and then ed that Emmy was still outside. “Shit!” I ran to the front door and opened it. Emmy jumped up from her dog bed next to the door, her tail wagging. “Oh, Emmy, I am so sorry, honey.” She jumped up on me and licked my just-washed face. “It’s freezing out here, girl. I’m so sorry.” I closed the front door behind us and ran with her down the hall to my warm bedroom. Emmy hopped up on the king-size bed and curled up in a ball on Blake’s side. I went over and kissed her cold head, before I went back into the bathroom to finish washing up. It was only nine o’clock, but I was so physically and mentally tired. I searched around in my medicine cabinet for the prescription Grace had written for me after Blake’s death. Those first few weeks, the only way I could sleep was to take the pills. Now I could feel the same tension and anxiety crowding my head, so I decided to take a Valium to help me sleep. I didn’t wake until nine o’clock the next morning. Regrettably, the Valium left me feeling groggy as I climbed out of bed. I noticed that Emmy was already up and about. Karen had surely poked her head in and taken care of her for me. I promptly got dressed in my ranch clothes and slid out the French doors off my bedroom. I headed for the barn to feed and let out the goats. Emmy saw me from the front porch and came running. “Hey, girl. Let’s go feed the goats.” I had moved the horses to the back pasture the night before to let the grass grow in the front and so they could go into the barn if it got too cold. It was May, but the nightly forecasts were still calling for frost. I still felt full from last night’s delicious meal while I shoveled all the pea-sized turds out of the goat pen. The morning was crisp, and the sky was again free of any clouds. I noticed that the leaves unfolded a little more every day, filling in the empty spaces between the branches with a wash of bright green. I loved

springtime, when the landscape transformed from dull winter to vibrant color with the snow-covered mountains in the backdrop. I heard the goats calling out to the horses as they explored the pasture and its rich, green grass. I decided to leave them with the horses for the day so they could eat the fresh grass. I piled the droppings in a large wheelbarrow and hauled them over to my manure compost about two blocks away from the barn. When the pile got too high, I would put it in a spreader behind the tractor and spread it on my pastures for fertilizer. I covered the manure with a tarp to keep the flies from laying their eggs. As I did my chores, I made a plan to have Darien help me with the daily chores around the farm. I would make a weekly calendar and write down what needed to be done for each day. I also had the idea of rationing his alcohol intake so his body could slowly adjust. I planned to do my best to keep Darien occupied, which would really help with his urge to drink. Along with his cooking and shopping duties, I wanted to teach him how to ride and how to train a horse. I needed to start working with Geronimo and get him trained to ride. I could have Darien help me with Geronimo’s training. On my way back from the compost pile, I spotted someone by the big cottonwood tree near the creek. I had an old-fashioned tree swing there that swung over the creek, and when the creek was high, you could even dip your toes in it when you went over it. It was Darien. “Hey, you found my secret spot,” I yelled as I wheeled the empty wheelbarrow toward him. Emmy also saw him and ran up to him to receive his affection. Darien was sitting on the swing, but not swinging. He looked over at me and just smiled while petting Emmy. He looked terrible, and I could see that he was already drunk. “Did you sleep all right?” I sat the wheelbarrow down and walked over to him. “Yeah,” was his reply. “ the jungle? playing on those huge trees? Their limbs grew horizontal like long, giant arms. I climbing out on them. I would pretend I was riding a horse, as I bounced up and down on the big branch. Oh, and the creek. We had some good times down there.” As kids we had played on an undeveloped city block near our home next to railroad tracks. It had a creek

running through it, which was really just dirty storm drain runoff. We called it “the jungle” because it was in a deep depression, the trees were giant, and the vegetation was thick. The jungle was our hidden playground, back then—our way to escape reality. “Yeah … I haven’t thought about that place in forever,” Darien responded with a sense of nostalgia. “Darien … I know last night didn’t go well, but I was serious about helping you get better.” I told him my idea about the daily chores and even my idea about rationing his alcohol intake. Surprisingly, he seemed keen on my ideas, especially the part about wanting to teach him how to ride and train a horse. “Great, but now I need to know how much you drink a day so we can decide what to limit your intake to.” Darien looked down at the ground and didn’t say anything for a while. I just stood and waited for him to respond. “Darien … do you know how much you drink? If not, then we can just set an amount and go from there.” He remained silent. “Don’t worry about it. We will figure it out. I’m going to go back to the house and get that daily chore schedule set up. In the meantime, you could chop some wood. The wood pile is behind the horse trailer. I think the axe is there. If it’s not, then it’s in the barn where Blake’s workshop is. Also, as you can see, the lawn needs cutting. The riding lawn mower is in the barn.” Darien just simply nodded and then stood, looking toward the horse trailer. “Just stack it next to the barn. I already have a bundle of wood next to the fireplace.” I stated before leaving. “Okay,” Darien said, and he walked off toward the trailer. I really hoped my plan was going to work. Inside, I went to the office, designed a chore chart on my computer, and printed it off. I then went into the kitchen and found three small mason jars to use for his alcohol ration. Yet, to accomplish this, Darien would have to give me all his booze. Asking him for his stash wouldn’t be easy, and after what happened the night before, I didn’t want another violent outburst from him.

Three weeks went by, and I was pleased with Darien’s progress. He gave me the three bottles of whiskey he had with him, having already consumed three bottles already. My plan was for him to come to me three times a day to get his alcohol allotment. Wow, that made it sound like he was in prison. Anyway, I would give him two ounces three times a day. After only a few days, I could see an improvement in his mood and behavior. I told Darien that every time he got a strong urge to drink, he should do something physical to take his mind off of it. Several times a day I would see Darien run outside to the barn. He would either harrow the arena with the tractor, chop wood, or clean the horse stalls. Anything to keep him occupied and away from the booze.

Every night during dinner, which he would make and clean up after, Darien and I would eat together and talk about our day. We were like an old married couple as we teased each other. I noticed that Darien was getting more comfortable talking with me, and he had put on about five pounds. I think I put on about five pounds too from all the gourmet meals I was eating. Darien no longer looked ill. His skin was returning to its normal color, and he looked like the handsome guy I ed. He even let me cut his hair, which was getting overgrown and shaggy. I had a hard time with his cowlick. I my mother hated his cowlick, mostly on school picture day. She tried everything to make his hair lie flat. She tried her saliva (yes, I know—gross) and hair spray and gel. I must say, I did a pretty good job, considering I had no experience cutting hair. I cut it up around his ears and used my horse trimmer for his sideburns. I teased him that I was going to trim his thick eyebrows. I told him they looked like giant, black caterpillars. My housekeeper Karen would come Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to clean, which Darien took advantage of, with all his other chores around the ranch. I would drive Darien to the grocery store once a week. I would sit in the truck and wait for him, listening to music. I would park the truck at the far end of the parking lot so no one would see me.

For the past two weeks, I had been teaching Darien the basics of horse training in the round pen. I wanted to teach him on the ground first, like I would with the horse. I wanted Darien to understand the need to show the horse that he was in control. It wouldn’t be easy for him, because he was such a shy and ive person. Nevertheless, I wanted to convey to him that I didn’t want him to be aggressive but rather assertive. A horse will not want to follow someone with weak energy, I explained to him. I also had him watch a few of my lessons so he could get an idea of how complicated riding really was. Depending on the discipline, the training was all very different, but the basic fundamentals of schooling a horse were the same. I taught Darien the skill of longeing a horse in the round pen. I described the body language that the horse would display when it was submitting to him. Most importantly, I wanted to teach him when to release the pressure to reward the horse. The first few days, Darien did well, and Geronimo was responding well to his commands. It helped that Geronimo had a special bond with Darien. I sat on the round-pen rail and shouted out commands as Darien trained his first horse. It was a special but also sad moment for me, because it was supposed to be Blake training Geronimo.

I had spoken to Grace a few times over the last three weeks, but she hadn’t come over. I wanted to work with Darien on my own until we needed her medical treatment. I also wanted time with just me and him so we could bond and build that trust he seemed to lack with people. He didn’t seem shy around me anymore, and that was great, because I loved to talk. Our dinners were my favorite, because we would laugh and talk for over an hour, savoring our meal and each other’s company. I think Emmy was also gaining a few pounds from Darien’s gourmet meals. He would collect all the meat scraps and mix them with her dog food. “So, when do I get to actually ride a horse?” Darien asked, while serving up my plate of food. “Well, I would like to spend at least another week schooling you on how to train a horse. Most people want to rush this part, but I know from years of experience

that the groundwork is the most important. And skipping this part of the training will only lead to someone getting hurt.” Darien agreed and told me that he was enjoying the time he was spending with Geronimo in the round pen. “If you want, you could start spending more time with Geronimo and the other horses in the pasture. Go out there with no halter and just be with them. It’s a good bonding technique, but it’s also interesting to watch how the horses interact with each other. Watch their body language. Or you could groom him; that’s also a good bonding tool. Your relationship shouldn’t only be about training or riding.” Darien looked excited about my ideas. I asked him how he was feeling with the new limitations on his alcohol intake. He said his cravings were still bad, but he was taking my advice by keeping busy and distracting his mind from drinking. It was evident from the large pile of chopped wood along the barn that the physical labor was working well. I ribbed him that we could always sell the wood this fall and make some money. Darien then questioned me about Grace and why she hadn’t been out to see them. I lied and said that she’d been busy with work. He announced that he wanted to cook for her again. “Okay. Tomorrow is Friday night, so I’ll call her and see if she can make it.” Darien smiled, and I saw him blush a little. “Wait a minute … you like her? You like Grace?” Darien blushed even more after I confronted him. “I won’t say a word. She’s a great person, and if I were a guy, I would totally hit that.” We both laughed and finished our meal.

“Grace, great to see you. It’s been too long.” I hugged her and took her coat. “I know last time was a disaster, but I promise I won’t upset your brother.” Grace hugged me back. She smelled like the hospital and soap. “You didn’t dress up this time. Darien will be so disappointed,” I mocked. “How is everything going? I haven’t heard from you for a while,” Grace asked in a hushed voice. “You know, it’s going really well. I have him keeping busy with chores around the farm, and we’ve cut back his alcohol intake to just two ounces three times a

day. And he looks and feels great,” I replied with pride. “Oh, wow. That’s wonderful, Mer. Just let me know when I can help.” I walked with Grace into the kitchen, where Darien was slaving away. “Darien, Grace is here. Why don’t you get her a glass of wine, and I will set the kitchen table.” Darien turned around from the stove to face us. I noticed that his face flushed bright red, and a big grin spread across his face when he saw Grace. “Good to see you again. I’m making macadamia-crusted Chilean sea bass with a mango cream sauce.” Darien’s voice was low but not shaky, which was amazing. I had told him what to say to Grace, which was a good idea. He did sound a little automated, like a computer-generated voice, but I don’t think Grace noticed. “You got your hair cut. I like it! Wait … did you say wine? No offense, Darien, but I can’t drink cider. After the day I had, I need wine. And I happen to love sea bass.” Darien and I laughed while he poured her a glass of chilled Chardonnay. I could see his hand shaking as he poured the wine. Grace stopped him by saying, “That’s enough. Great, thank you.” “Mer, could you watch the sauce?” Darien asked as I finished setting the table. “Sure.” I walked over to the stove, took the spoon from him, and started stirring the cream sauce. Darien then hurried off toward the stairs. Grace and I both looked at each other, our stare revealing our suspicion. I rushed over to the hallway and saw him walk out the front door. I ran over to the study window to see if I could spot him. Grace had ed me, and we peeked out the window. We saw him walking toward the barn. “He’s just going to the barn. See what you did, Grace? You have him all flustered,” I baited. “What? I didn’t do anything,” Grace said in her defense. “I’m sure he just needs to chop a few logs to calm himself down. I’ll go see if he wants to talk. Just watch the sauce.” “Okay, but I can’t guarantee I won’t burn it,” Grace said before taking a sip of

wine. I grabbed a coat from the hall closet and went out the front door. I ed Emmy and Doc, who were playing in the front yard. They stopped playing for a few seconds when they saw me and then quickly resumed playing once I walked by. Before I went to check on Darien, I went out to the back pasture and gathered my herd of goats. They were about a half a block away, so I strolled out there and herded them back to the gate. They all screamed at me and followed me into the barn. I then grabbed a few flakes of alfalfa and tossed them into their pen.

“Oh my God … oh my God. What the fuck are you doing? Darien … I can’t believe this. I trusted you. Where did you get that?” I was screaming my words, and I was shaking, I was so angry. When I walked into Blake’s workshop, I found Darien sitting on the bench drinking out of a bottle of Jack Daniels while an old boom box was blaring eighties rock music. My words surprised him, and he instantly put the bottle down and swallowed a mouth full of booze. By this time, I was only a few feet from him, and the rage on my face said it all. I was feeling both betrayed and defeated as I discovered that the past three weeks had been a lie. I now understood how my sister Sandy felt. “Get the fuck out of my face!” Darien slurred his angry words at me and jumped off the bench, standing right in front of me. I could see that he’d already consumed nearly half the bottle in minutes. I suddenly flashed back to our childhood, to when Darien and I got into a fist fight. I don’t what we were arguing about, but we were literally hitting each other with our fists. Now, here we were again, some twenty-eight or so years later. With the rage inside me, I pushed Darien with both hands, and hit him square in the chest, knocking his six-foot frame only slightly back. I could hear him snicker a little at my weak attempt to hurt him. Then, only seconds later, I felt his hand push hard against my right shoulder. His violent assault forced my small body backward, and I landed on my back. After that, my head hit hard on the cement floor. I couldn’t breathe, and the back of my head felt like I’d gotten

shot with a gun. It hurt that bad. I slowly sat up and was struggling to breathe when I heard Grace yell my name. “Meredith! Oh my God. Darien, what did you do? Meredith, honey, it’s okay. You just had the wind knocked out of you. Oh my God, you’re bleeding. What the hell did you do to her!” Grace screamed looking over at Darien, who just stood there in shock. He ran out of the barn just as the sun was setting to the West. The rays of sunlight flooded the barn and landed on Grace and I as she glanced down at the bright-red blood on her hand. As I got my breath back, I thought to myself that his disease had tricked me, fooled another loved one who had tried to end its stranglehold on my brother’s soul. Darien hadn’t drunk behind my back to hurt me. This had nothing to do with me; it had all to do with his disease and the power it had over him. I was wrong for attacking him, and I was no different from everyone else who had failed him. This thought had me now in tears. “Mer … we need to get you in the house so I can see how badly you’re cut.” Grace helped me to stand. I felt dizzy, so I grabbed tightly to her arm. My head and back were throbbing with pain. “Do you want me to call Sheriff Madison?” Grace asked as she carefully walked with me to the house. “No … no, Grace. We need to find him. I was wrong to confront him …” “Are you kidding me? He fuckin’ hit you, Mer. Maybe you don’t think that’s bad, but I am here to tell you that it’s bad.” “He pushed me, and I hit him first anyway. It’s not his fault.” I said. Doc and Emmy followed behind us into the house. Grace stopped and yelled at Doc to stay outside. I heard him whine a little, and then he sat down on Emmy’s bed near the front door. Once we’re inside, Grace helped me over to a chair at the kitchen table where the lighting was brighter. I told her to turn off all the burners and the oven. Grace hurried over and turned off everything and then quickly returned to check the cut on the back of my head. “It’s bleeding really bad, but most head wounds do. I need to get your hair out of the way so I can see.” Grace’s voice sounded worried, not like a professional

doctor who saw trauma every day. “Mer, you’re going to need stitches. It’s pretty long and deep. I can drive us over to the hospital and stitch it myself.” Grace put a dish towel over it and pressed hard. “No. No, I’m fine. Can’t you just do it here?” I really don’t want to go to the hospital, or anywhere in public like this. “I need to watch you. With a head wound like this, you probably have a concussion. Are you feeling dizzy?” Grace questioned as she kept pushing on my wound. “Yes. And it hurts like hell. So does my back.” “Okay, then we may need to do some scans to make sure nothing else is wrong. Let me call the hospital really quick and let them know we are on our way. Hold this towel over your cut, and make sure you press hard.” Grace pulled her phone out of her back pocket and went to the hall closet to get her coat. Emmy then slowly walked over to me with a sad look on her face. “Hey, girl.” I gently stroked her soft head.

After about five minutes in the car, I was feeling nauseated. I told Grace this, and she hit the accelerator and sped down the highway. The hospital was quiet for a Friday night, I thought. Grace pulled up to the emergency doors, threw the car in park, and jumped out to help me. “I am not dying, Grace. Settle down.” “Just hold the towel and wait here. I need to get a wheelchair.” Grace ran inside the automatic doors. I sat and waited for her to come back. She returned with a wheelchair and an attending doctor, John Sanders, who I knew. “What happened? Did you fall off one of your horses again?” John asked as he helped Grace lift me into the wheelchair. “Yes,” I declared. “No. Damn it, Mer. Her brother did this to her.”

“He didn’t mean it. He’s drunk. We need to find him, Grace.” I was feeling panicked, so Grace gave me something to help me rest. When I woke up the next morning in the hospital, I quickly asked the nurse if they had found my brother. She looked confused by my question and walked off to go find Grace, who was taking a break from my bedside to eat something. “There’s my beautiful Meredith McBride. How are you feeling this morning?” Grace sat on the side of my bed, still wearing the same clothes she had had on the night before. “Have you found Darien? He might be at home in his room.” Grace heard the sense of urgency in my voice as I tried to sit up. When I did, I felt the pain in my head and flinched. “Hey, relax. The sheriff is still looking.” “Sheriff? Grace, I told you not to call him. Damn it, Darien isn’t a criminal. We can’t fail him. He’s counting on us to see this through.” “Meredith, listen to me. You need to settle down. No one is going to hurt him. We just want him back home safe.” “But if Darien sees a cop, he isn’t going to see it that way.” I was in tears now. The past twelve hours seemed like a bad dream. “I am just getting your discharge papers ready. Then you can go. I will drive you home. No driving for forty-eight hours. Your MRI looked clean, but you have a bad concussion,” Grace stated. “How many stitches did I get?” I inquired, feeling the back of my head. My hair was hard where the blood had dried. “Fifteen. And you will need to keep them clean. I tried to wash out most of the blood. I will take them out in two weeks.” Grace inspected the stitches and then tenderly stroked my hair. “Maybe you’re in over your head here, Mer, no pun intended. Maybe Darien needs to—” “No. Grace, I am not going to quit! I am his last hope, and a few stitches aren’t going to stop me. Fuck his disease. This is just a setback. We keep fighting, right?” I looked up at her to see if she was still on board.

“Right,” Grace replied with a smile. When we got home, we saw Sheriff Madison waiting for us at the gate to the side of the driveway. “Does he have Darien?” I asked Grace as we pulled up to the gate. Grace punched in the four digit code, which I changed every week for security. “I don’t know. I don’t see anyone in the back seat,” Grace answered. The sheriff followed us up to the house. Karen was there with Emmy and Doc, who were standing next to her on the front porch, their tails waging. “You called Karen. Thank you,” I said. Karen was a middle aged woman with short, brown hair and a thin build. She was a heavy smoker and had a type A personality and the energy of three people. She was one of those women who always had serious looks on their faces. Her expressions were limited, and her tone was always somber. Even when she was trying to be funny, if you didn’t know her, you would think she was clearly annoyed. But she was like a mother to me, and after Blake’s death, she took care of me for weeks. “Yes. She took care of the animals also. She can’t help out again until Monday, so take it easy. I mean it.” Grace peered over at me in the enger seat, her eyes filled with tears. I was nervous every time I saw Sheriff Madison, maybe because he was a big burly man with too much facial hair and too much testosterone. The guy couldn’t sprint fifty yards if he had to—maybe if a grizzly bear were chasing him. “Sheriff, did you find my brother?” I yelled as I jumped out of the car. “Hey, I told you to take it easy, Mer.” Grace got out, ran over to me, and took my arm. “No, but if what Grace told me is true, I have to bring him in on assault charges.” The sheriff stood tall with his hands on his wide belt, his aviator sunglasses reflecting the morning sun on my face.

“Sheriff, sir, he didn’t assault me. We were just fooling around, like we did when we were kids. Darien’s just a little bigger now, and his size got the best of him. Please, you have to understand, my brother has been through a lot.” I was pleading now. “All right. But if I get another call out here, Meredith, he’s going to jail,” the sheriff remarked, and he wrote something down in his little black notepad. “If you find him, please don’t bring him in. Just call me. Let me come get him. He’s been through a lot. He even lived on the streets back home. People like him fear the police.” Again I was pleading with him. “Okay, let’s get you in the house so you can rest,” Grace said. “Sheriff, thank you, but I need to get her inside.” “No problem. Ladies.” The sheriff folded himself back into his patrol car and sped off down my gravel drive.

Karen had a warm breakfast waiting for me. She had propped up my pillows, put my food on a tray, and placed it on the bed. I thanked her and ate everything she made. It warmed my heart to have such good people to lean on. Grace had to return to the hospital, and Karen had to leave because it was Saturday, her time with her family. I assured the both of them that I would be fine. I wasn’t feeling dizzy anymore, and the pain meds were working. As soon as they left, I changed into my ranch clothes, which were jeans and a button-down shirt. I wanted to check on the goats and horses. It was a little chilly that morning for the end of May, so I grabbed a coat from the hall closet. As I walked out on the front porch, I could see storm clouds in the west over the Big Hole Mountains. I decided to put the goats back in the barn in case it rained. Emmy bounced along beside me and ran to find her red ball in the yard. “Not now, little buddy. Mommy can’t play today.” I told her. She stopped and looked at me as if she understood. She then dropped the ball and calmly followed me to the barn. I could see the horses way across the pasture near the irrigation canal, under a

grove of young cottonwood trees. They preferred to nap under the trees to escape the intense mountain sun. Yet this morning, they probably sensed the thunderstorms rolling in and were taking cover. My goats called out to me when they saw me walking up to their outdoor enclosure. I loved how they were always happy to see me. “Good morning, my little goats,” I said with joy in my heart. I opened the door to their enclosure and let them inside the barn. I left the door open so they could go in and out if needed. I then walked over to Blake’s workshop. I was curious as to where Darien had gotten the booze from. I opened several cupboards and storage bins when, bingo, I found a case of Jack Daniels Whiskey. “Shit. What the hell? Why would Blake have a case of whiskey?” I asked out loud. There were six bottles missing, and I was sure those had been consumed by my brother over the past three weeks. He must have thought he’d hit the jackpot when he stumbled upon this prize. I kept looking around to see if I could find any other hidden treasures that Blake had stowed away. I spotted a cabinet high above any of the others. I grabbed a ladder and carefully climbed up to the third step so I could open the cabinet and see what was inside. What I found had me shocked, to say the least. It was a veritable pharmacy of prescription pill bottles bearing Blake’s name. I heard a loud bang, like something had fallen above me in the hay loft. I quietly climbed down the ladder and then reached up and pulled down the folding stairs from the ceiling. “Darien, are you up there? It’s okay. I was wrong to attack you. I am so sorry. I know you can’t help it. Please.” I got up to where I could see over the bales of alfalfa, and I saw him sitting there looking drunk and defeated. “Hey, brother, you gave me fifteen stitches, but I’ve had worse. One time I was bucked off a wild mustang. You could say that horse gave me a reality check. I thought I was invincible as a horse trainer; it was a humbling experience.” I laughed, but it hurt. “Why don’t you come down so I can rest in my bed? Grace, my doctor, ordered me to spend two days in bed. That may end up being two hours. You know me.” This time I saw him smile. “Darien, there are going to be setbacks, I know. Maybe we need to start thinking about your detox and making our plan for that.” I saw him nod his head. “I told you about a shrink … he’s really great. I was terrified to go see him, but I am telling you, it really helped me. Think about it.” Darien stood. He was swaying, and he almost fell over.

“Whoa, just stand there for a few seconds and let the blood get to your head. There you go.” We then both laughed. I slowly helped Darien get down from the loft and then hugged him. He seemed surprised by my display of affection and hugged me back. “Oh, careful. My back,” I said, in pain. “Sorry,” Darien replied with remorse. I found out that Darien had slept up in the loft all night. He had found a few horse blankets and wrapped himself in those to stay warm. He said Emmy had sat below him in the barn and wouldn’t leave. When Karen came out to the barn that night to find her, she refused to go back with her and Doc into the house. Emmy knew Darien was up there, but Karen couldn’t put two and two together. “I have to say, that was quite the score, finding all that booze in the workshop. It’s odd that Blake had that, because he really wasn’t a big drinker … hey, I had a voice mail from the guy who made Blake’s tombstone. He said he went out last Thursday and put it at Blake’s burial plot. Would you go out there with me? I haven’t been out there once since the funeral, and I don’t want to go alone.” I was still holding him, looking up at his face. “Sure, but I am starving,” Darien confessed. “I am sure you are. Karen had to throw out your great meal. Sorry,” I said with a sad face.

Grace had told me that I couldn’t drive for two days, but I wasn’t going to let Darien drive. He was too intoxicated. It wasn’t far to the cemetery from the ranch, so there would be no harm done, I thought. The storm clouds I saw earlier were building over the mountains and heading our way. Darien pointed out the threat to me as we drove down the driveway. “We should be done by the time it hits the valley,” I told him as I adjusted myself in the seat, hoping to relieve some pressure on my back. The cemetery where I’d had Blake buried was just across the border in Alta,

Wyoming. My ranch was only a mile from the border. Blake loved how the small cemetery sat high on a hill with a perfect view of the Teton Mountain Range and Table Mountain. We had both bought plots there when we moved here fourteen years ago. I wasn’t the burial type, but this was what he wanted. As I pulled up to the cemetery entrance, I saw the caretaker, Walter Grimm, who lived just down the street. I had left him a message telling him that I would be coming by to see the new tombstone. His elderly face appeared worried when he saw us drive down the lane. I drove past him and parked in front of Blake’s plot. “Mrs. McBride, I am so sorry.” He hurried over to me as fast as his brittle legs would carry him. I was confused by his apology. Darien and I got out of the truck. “Emmy, you stay in the truck. Good girl.” “Mrs. McBride, I tried to call you back. You see, there were some kids and …” The expression on his face had me somewhat panicked. I walked over to my dead husband’s gravestone. What I witnessed next made me gasp. I was instantly filled with a sense of anger and disgust. “Mrs. McBride, I have some solvents. We should be able to get that off. Let me run to my shed and see what I’ve got.” Walter hurried off as fast as his little old legs could. I then felt Darien wrap his long arms around me, pulling me close. I was sure he could feel my body trembling as we both stared at the red, spray-painted word across Blake’s large, granite stone: Murderer! I was in shock and crying. I wanted to leave because I feared the people who had done this were watching. I suddenly felt sick and lightheaded. “Mer, we’ll clean it off,” Darien said in a gentle voice as he tried to comfort me. I had tried for seven months to put some of what had happened behind me, but after seeing the red spray paint splattered across the engraved letters, I was quickly reminded of the horror he had bestowed upon me and all those innocent engers that he had killed. I informed Darien that we had to go. He replied that we had to wait for the caretaker. I didn’t care. Instead, I got into the truck. I waited for Darien to get

inside and then turned around and drove toward home. A rush of tears obstructed my view as the first rain drops splattered on the windshield. Then a bolt of lightning lit up the sky in front of us, and a clash of thunder violently rocked the valley.

CHAPTER 5

S EEING BLAKE’S GRAFFITIED GRAVESTONE SENT me into a bout of deep depression. I was still trying to accept the fact that Blake had crashed that airplane deliberately, and I knew I would never understand or be able to justify his actions. Over the past several months, the FAA had uncovered some clues as to why he may have murdered over two hundred people. Suicide alone was taboo enough, but when someone killed himself or herself and hundreds of innocent people, there was no explanation that would satisfy. I was still getting threatening calls from attorneys representing family of the victims. I had retained my own attorney to protect my personal assets. The engers who had died were mostly from China. There were a dozen American businessmen and twelve American Mormon missionaries headed to China for an eighteen-month mission. The flight crew were colleagues Blake had worked with for almost a year. A sister of one of the flight attendants who ed emailed me the day after the crash to offer her condolences. The airline Blake worked for was getting sued by a group of American families for not discovering Blake’s mental illness. I had received hundreds of pieces of hate mail through the post and the internet. The FBI cancelled my email and had the post office hold all my mail for them to inspect. They were taking the death threats against me very seriously. But I was numb to all that was going on around me during the first month or so after the plane crash. During the first few days after the crash, before the world and I knew the truth, before the black box recorder was retrieved, Blake was honored for his sacrifice as the pilot. His handsome captain’s photo from three years ago was plastered on every television news channel, newspaper, and magazine. I felt honored that the world was ing my husband this way. Then, when divers found the cockpit voice recorder—or “black box,” as it was called—three days after the crash, my life and world fell apart. The world and I were shocked to learn the truth behind the devastating plane

crash. I had found out only minutes before the entire world. I received a phone call from the FAA. A gentleman by the name of Brandon Littlefield introduced himself before delivering the news. He didn’t waste time. He just said, “Mrs. McBride, evidence from the cockpit voice recorder and other sources has us to believe that your husband, Captain Blake Russell McBride, deliberately crashed the enger aircraft he was piloting.” At first I thought it was a prank, a terrible prank. I was silent for about twenty seconds as I waited to hear the person on the other end of the line start laughing and hang up. Mr. Littlefield asked if I was still there, his voice sounding concerned. I told him that I was there as I tried to hold in my emotions. He then went on to explain in detail how my husband had crashed the aircraft into the sea. Even after his five-minute rundown of what happened, I was still not comprehending what the FAA was claiming. I saw no reason why Blake would kill all those people and himself. In the weeks to come, I was questioned by the FAA, the FBI, and other government officials. I felt like I was on trial as I sat through hours of questioning. To me it all seemed in vain, because what good would it do to know the reason why? The truth wouldn’t bring back all those innocent engers, I told myself after a ten-hour-long interrogation. I was tired and hungry, but most of all, I was having to relive the nightmare Blake had created over and over again. In the meantime, divers had been in the process of recovering all the bodies from the fuselage, which had broken up into three pieces. Blake’s body was found still buckled in his seat in the cockpit, which had been completely destroyed on impact with the water. The dead bodies of the copilot and navigator were found unbuckled, floating around in the first class area of the plane. The door to the cockpit was locked from the inside. The black box had recorded muffled voices and sounds of banging in the background. The theory was that Blake had somehow gotten both men out of the cockpit, which was against FAA protocol on overseas flights. The FAA had shared the recordings with me in the hopes that I could give them any information as to why Blake would commit this unprecedented act of mass murder. I sat and listened to the minute-and-a-half-long recording of Blake’s voice from the last seconds before the crash. I strained to hear his almost inaudible words. It sounded like he was talking to someone, but we all knew that

he was alone at this point. I could hear the plane’s engines roar, and then it was silent. This experience had had me feeling, overwhelmed with grief. I I was hysterical at this point and sobbing uncontrollably as I heard the recording play over and over in my head. I was screaming and pounding my fists on the table. I could almost feel my mental state breaking down. The two FAA officials, both men, jumped up from their chairs and escorted me to the medical bay of the building where they were questioning me in Salt Lake City. A doctor gave me a shot of something that had me unconscious within a few seconds. After an hour, I woke up to even more questions. The two men from the FAA asked me if I knew what he was saying. I couldn’t speak. I could only shake my head no. I wished that I’d never had heard the tape. Blake’s voice had had an eerie tone to it, an almost demented and possessed sound—not something I wanted to him by. Three days after the crash, the FAA sent a statement to the media, announcing that the captain, my husband, deliberately crashed and killed all the crew and engers. The news media blew up, and they were like ravenous hyenas out for blood. The press thrived on juicy train-wreck stories like Blake’s, and this one was a humdinger. One day, my husband was an honored former air force pilot and veteran of war who had tragically lost his life while doing his job, and the next he was now a mass murderer scorned worldwide. The message of hate and outrage the press broadcasted was epic. They had a field day digging into Blake’s past. The television news shows like 60 Minutes, Dateline, and 20/20 all aired their scandalous, hour-long shows on the fall of an American hero. They also exploited me, the wife. Somehow I was guilty because I was married to him. I didn’t allow myself to watch any television for months. The press tried in vain to interview me, but my local police and the FBI kept me estranged from them. The FBI suggested that I change my name and move out of state. That was something I refused to do. This was my home, and I wasn’t going to let others bully me into uprooting my life. I’d had nothing to do with my husband’s unspeakable act, and I had no clue about his illness. That was the only statement

the government allowed me to release. The FAA held Blake’s body so they could perform an autopsy and do a toxicology screening. The toxicology report revealed that Blake had a blood alcohol reading of .15, and he also had in his system two types of antidepressants and cocaine. As soon as the truth was publicized, Blake’s psychiatrist came forward. He claimed he hadn’t known that Blake was a commercial airline pilot. The doctor said he had been treating Blake for over five years for depression and PTSD. The psychiatrist had prescribed several drugs over the years to help Blake cope with his disorders. Blake had told the doctor that he was a retired air force vet now making his living ranching. When I heard about Blake’s mental illness, I was stunned, because I had never had a clue that Blake was suffering from any of these problems. I knew he had been in combat for two tours with the air force, but he’d never said much about that experience. He had kept his illness a secret from everyone, except his doctor. Flying was Blake’s life, and he wasn’t going to risk losing that privilege. He was fighting a lot of demons, and his abuse of alcohol, prescription drugs, and cocaine was his futile way to tame that beast. His psychiatrist claimed that Blake’s mental state had declined precipitously the week before the plane crash. Blake itted to his doctor, that he was having night terrors and bouts of hallucination. The doctor said he had prescribed a new drug to help him, but he noted that mixing these drugs with alcohol and cocaine would only have intensified his hallucinations. As far back as I could , Blake had never been a good sleeper. Many times he would stay up late watching television. I would wake up in the morning to find him asleep on the couch or ed out in the upstairs guest bedroom. He would say he hadn’t wanted to wake me with his snoring. I wasn’t aware of his snoring because I was a heavy sleeper and not much would wake me once I was out. I guess I got used to Blake’s insomnia, maybe because I was sleeping. He was gone for five days during his trips, so we were apart a lot too. I think when you’re married for a long time, you get into a set pattern of life, and you no longer see the obvious. Now that I knew the truth about Blake’s illness, I saw all the signs I missed. I knew Blake had been adopted as a newborn by George and Judy McBride. Blake was their only child, and they were very close. In fact, his parents were the

only family who flew out for the funeral, which was about three weeks after the crash. I hadn’t wanted to have a funeral, but what else would I do? Blake’s parents called and said that they wanted to be there for their son, forgiving him for his actions. He was still their son, and God would want them to pray for his soul. I knew they were right. It was a parent’s duty to love his or her children no matter what. Blake’s soul was going to need all the prayers he could get. That unconditional love was something Darien and I were not fortunate enough to have from our parents. I had a hard time convincing the Catholic priest from the church in town to come and say a few words because we were not of his congregation. I literally begged him, only because Blake’s parents were devoted Catholics and I wanted them to feel a sense of peace at their son’s burial. It was early November by the time we had Blake’s funeral. The weather was cold and blustery on that Sunday afternoon. I hadn’t put an announcement in the paper, as doing so would have been like pouring salt in a wound. When we saw the black hearse pull into the cemetery, I witnessed Judy breakdown with emotion and find comfort in her husband’s arms. To me, the hearse was like the grim reaper mobile. It was creepy, and the sight of it made me shudder. Grace had been by my side, and so had my cousin Maddy. Having them there had made the experience tolerable. I never really asked myself how I felt about Blake anymore. The awful things he did were unforgivable, but he was suffering from mental illness. I chose to him as the man I knew and loved all those years. I would put him in my past and move on with my life, wherever it may take me. The grave had been dug, overseen by the caretaker Walter Grimm. (Wow, I just got the connection with his name. Too ironic and freaky.) I hated funerals, and the sooner we got it over with, the better. The weather was going to hell fast as big snowflakes started falling from the sky, blowing in my face. The visibility was now limited as a winter squall whipped up the valley. I saw Blake’s parents turn their backs to the blizzard of snowflakes while pulling up their coat collars. The hearse drove up to the open, rectangular pit and parked. Two men got out and began their routine of sliding out the casket. They seemed to be unaware of the wicked weather bearing down on them as they wheeled the casket in place. Grace, Maddy, and I slowly walked over to the open grave. My entire body

became rigid with emotion when I saw Blake’s mahogany casket. I fought my tears, because I knew that they would freeze on my eyes and lashes. I felt Grace squeeze my hand, which was now going numb from the cold. We then heard a car driving up the gravel drive. It was Father Cortez. I felt grateful, because I hadn’t been sure he would show up. We watched as he got out of his car and hurried over to us at the grave. He was a stout Latino man in his late forties. He was holding a black, leather-bound bible and wearing a white robe with a green sash. He saw me and nodded before going over to Blake’s parents, who were overjoyed to see a Catholic priest at their son’s funeral. I witnessed them touching hands while introducing themselves to each other. Considering the crimes their son had committed, it was surprising to all of us that the priest had come. The service wasn’t long, which was good, because the wind was blowing even harder and the snow was starting to accumulate. The temperature had dropped a few degrees since we had gotten there, creating a bitter wind chill. After the priest had finished his sermon, we all decided to leave, but before we did, Judy stepped up to her son’s casket. She leaned over and kissed the cold, polished wood and then touched it with her gloved hand. Her tender gesture brought all of us to tears. The funeral home staff then lowered the casket into the ground. I turned around and watched Blake’s coffin disappear into the earth. I could only pray that his soul had been saved from eternal damnation. Blake’s father pulled his grieving wife away from her dead son, and a sudden gust of wind caught her long coat, almost pushing her over. Being from Atlanta, Blake’s parents were not used to cold weather like this. They were also in their late seventies and quite frail. We all drove back to my house and had a simple lunch that Karen had so graciously made for us. His parents were staying with me, and their flight was leaving the next day in the afternoon. That evening, it was just Blake’s parents and me. We all sat around the fire blazing in the stone fireplace. We listened to the wood logs pop in the blistering heat, the emotion on our tired faces evident in the fire’s warm glow. Blake’s dad led off with the story about how they had adopted their son some

forty-four years ago. There had been a fellow church parishioner whose fourteen-year-old daughter had been abducted by a man in a van while she was walking home from middle school one autumn day. The kidnapper quickly gagged her with a tube sock, drove her to a city park, and pulled into a secluded spot under a row of overgrown oak trees. He then tied up her arms and legs with an extension cord. After that, he used a large, hunting knife to cut off all her clothes, including her ruffled, pink panties. The sharp knife inflicted a long, superficial cut along her hip when he cut them off. Next, he repeatedly raped her young body. Her muffled screams were futile, her struggle to no avail, as her innocence was so violently taken. After it was dark, her assailant dragged her naked and bloody torso behind a large oak tree and dumped her there before fleeing the state. The young girl was discovered the next morning by an older couple walking their dog. She was found still bound and tied. Her long, beautiful brown hair was soiled and matted from the dewy ground. Forty years ago this type of violent, sexual crime had not been common, and police had not been trained on how to deal with such crimes. The girl’s parents had reported their daughter missing after she failed to come home from school that day. Everyone from the town and church was out looking for her. No one had witnessed her abduction, and her friends said they last saw her, she walking down her home street. The older woman stayed with the girl and covered her unconscious and naked body with her coat while her husband went to call the police. At the hospital, Courtney—that was her name—recovered from her physical wounds, but it would take years before she healed from her psychological injuries. When her parents were told of their daughter’s rape, it was devastating to say the least. They couldn’t imagine their young daughter enduring such cruel violence. After about three weeks, Courtney went back to the hospital to have her post-op checkup. At first, the doctor didn’t tell Courtney or her parents that he was going to do a pregnancy test. He didn’t want to have that conversation unless the test came back positive, which it did. Because they were of strong Catholic faith, an abortion was out of the question. It was traumatic for Courtney to learn of the pregnancy. At fourteen years of age—still a child herself—Courtney had to carry a baby in her womb for nine months, a baby created by a brutal rape.

Their priest had decided that it would be best for Courtney to go to a convent nearby to live out her pregnancy in private. She would be in the care of nuns, and they would give her the love and guidance she so desperately needed. Blake’s dad went on to say that he and his wife, Judy, knew that they had to save this bastard child. Not being able to conceive their own children, they felt this was God’s wish for them. I listened to this story—a story about my husband, who had just committed suicide while murdering over two hundred people. It was sad but also shocking. Blake had never told me this story, and now I think I know why. I couldn’t imagine knowing my birth father was a rapist. The saddest part of the story was that the police never found the man who had raped Courtney, Blake’s birth father. Blake’s father confessed that they had been excited when they had heard that the child was born and that it was a healthy baby boy. George had wanted a boy to follow in his footsteps and the air force. He went on to say that they had told Blake that he was adopted when he was two. They didn’t tell him about his birth father until he was sixteen. By that time Blake was in the ROTC and planning to the air force soon after high school. He said Blake took the news hard, and they regretted telling him the truth. After Blake was born, Courtney’s parents sent her to a private Catholic school, where she barely had enough credits to graduate. She was seeing a clinical psychiatrist on a weekly basis, but she was a changed person. It was like her spirit had been taken along with her innocence. Blake had met his birth mom many times. She babysat for the McBrides on several occasions. Blake looked a lot like his young mother, Judy added while wiping away her tears. Courtney had lived a tortured life, and she never seemed to have recovered from the rape. Seeing her son had just been a painful reminder of that dreadful day. Regrettably, Courtney herself committed suicide when Blake was only five. She’d made everyone think she was doing fine, but inside, her shame was consuming her. Even God wasn’t able to save her. One early Saturday morning, Courtney wrote her parents a letter on her Hello Kitty stationary and placed it under their bedroom door as they slept. She then

calmly got dressed in a white chiffon dress and walked two blocks up to the railroad tracks. She slowly made her way along the tracks and followed them until she came to the old railroad bridge. Without hesitation, Courtney climbed over the steel barricade and let her body free-fall some forty feet to her death, landing in the shallow creek below. Her note to her parents simply said, “I am sorry, and I love you. —Courtney.”

I asked Blake’s parents if they had known he was suffering from mental illness or that he had PTSD. They said that they’d had no idea. They said when he came home from the war, he had seemed fine. The FBI had obtained records from the VA in Atlanta exposing Blake’s diagnosis of PTSD by a family practice doctor. At that time, he was not put on any medication or screened by a psychiatrist. How Blake was then able to get his commercial airline pilot license was a problem. The airline could simply have missed the file, seeing as it was a family practice doctor who had made the diagnosis. No doubt this important piece of information would be used by the prosecutor to win his clients’ case against the airline.

Blake and I never had children of our own, mainly because I didn’t have the necessary equipment. My mother was a nurse, so when I didn’t get my period by the age of thirteen, she took me in to see a gynecologist. It was obvious that I had gone through puberty. I had boobs—small though they were—pubic hair, and of course, acne. An ultrasound disclosed that I was born without a uterus. It was a rare birth defect happening in only one out of maybe ten thousand females. The doctor told my mother that I would never be able to have children. His statement was an obvious one, even to someone without a medical background, and my mother rudely pointed out that fact to him before she took me by the arm and escorted me out of his exam room. I just want to say that I would hate to have my mother as my nurse. She was like Nurse Ratchet from the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. If you haven’t seen the movie, please do, but only after you finish this book.

I had told Blake about my infertility only a few weeks after we met. I didn’t want it to get too serious and then to find out he wanted tons of kids. Fortunately, Blake didn’t want children either, which worked out perfectly. Looking back, I now understood why he didn’t want children. I really didn’t want children either. I guess when I found out at the age of thirteen that I couldn’t have kids, I sort of put it out of my mind. I had accepted the fact, and I was comfortable with it.

CHAPTER 6

A NOTHER WEEK ED AND IT was now early June. It was starting to feel more like summer in the high country as the air warmed and the days got longer. I could smell the lilac bushes that were blooming along both sides of my house. I kept all the windows open to let in their sweet scent. The smell of lilacs brought back happy memories from my childhood, memories of riding horses at the barn and giggling with my girlfriends as we laid in the cool grass, gazing up at the bruise-colored clouds. I hadn’t been back to the cemetery. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to go back. I even thought about moving Blake’s body to another cemetery far away. But it seemed like there would be a lot of red tape and that it would require a lot effort, so I didn’t pursue it. Grace and I had reserved a private room at the hospital for Darien’s detox, which was in two days. Darien was having a hard time with the new limits on his alcohol intake. I was only giving him three ounces, three times a day. He told me that over the past two nights, he had woken up several times in the evening with night sweats, feeling feverish. Darien’s body was crying out for more alcohol. His central nervous system was unable to function normally without it. Alcohol dulls the nerves, but withdrawal has the opposite effect—overactivity of the central nervous system. The medical term for these symptoms of withdrawal was DTs, or Delirium Tremens. The symptoms included dehydration, vomiting, racing heart, sweats, trembling, hallucinations, crawling skin, feelings of impending doom, delirium, panic, excessive thirst, and seizures. Wow, sounds like going through hell to me. I did a little research on the internet to help prepare myself for this almost exorcism-sounding event that would be happening in forty-eight hours. If Darien were to stop drinking cold turkey, his body would produce the adrenal hormones cortisol and norepinephrine, which were toxic to nerve cells. Cortisol damages neurons in the hippocampus, the center of memory in the brain. Untreated, withdrawal could lead to direct damage of the hippocampus, which essentially amounted to brain damage.

I also noticed Darien’s increased irritability and antisocial behavior, so I tried to keep him busy with the horses, which kept his mind and body preoccupied. He and I had gotten Geronimo to the point where he was ready to be saddled and bridled to ride. Geronimo was a smart horse, and his temperament was slightly stubborn but kindhearted. I was going to leave the first ride to me and have Darien learn to ride on Disney, my black-and-white paint. Disney was the smoothest of my horses, which made it easier to learn on him, especially since he had comfortable gaits. I wanted to keep schooling Darien right up until his detox started, which couldn’t come soon enough. One night, I had to give him more alcohol because he was really having a difficult time at dinner. I told him that if I was going to give him more booze, he would have to eat more. Yet eating more food was part of the problem for his system, because the food absorbed the alcohol, which lessened its effect. Like I said, Darien would drink most of the time with little or no food, which was the worst thing he could do.

We were both nervous the night before his scheduled hospital stay. For dinner, he cooked pork chops on the grill and made a simple green salad with mashed potatoes. We didn’t talk much as we ate our meal. It wasn’t Darien’s first detox, and he knew exactly what to expect. I could sense his anxiety mounting. For me, this was all new, and I was freaking out inside. Grace said the drugs that she would give him intravenously would help with the withdrawal symptoms and prevent brain damage. The medications would not help with Darien’s shakes, agitation, and nausea. Darien’s body was going to fight and rebel against their efforts to cut his system off from the poison it had relied on for over twenty years.

We finished eating, and I noticed that Darien hadn’t drunk the allotment of alcohol I had given him at dinner. He said he hadn’t had any alcohol that day. He seemed proud of his accomplishment, but I, on the other hand, was worried. I knew that stopping cold turkey would mean disaster. He reassured me that he would drink six ounces before bed. That evening, I decided to ride Traveller over to Grace’s house and see if she

wanted to ride up in the foot hills. The days were now long, and it didn’t get dark until around ten. My other horses followed Traveller and me across the pasture until we got to the gate. Emmy was running across the pasture with her tongue hanging out. I told her to go and get some water. She turned around, ran over to the stream, and jumped in. Such a smart puppy, I told myself. I told the horses to stay as I opened the gate, still on Traveller. Opening and closing a gate was a basic skill that every rider needed to know out here. Traveller was tall at over seventeen hands, so it made it a little harder to do. I had to bend over and reach to latch the gate. When I got over to Grace’s ranch, I saw her longeing her horse Tobias in the round pen. He was her six-year-old bay draft and mustang cross. He had been a challenge for me to train; mustangs were known for being difficult. Grace was now training him because I had done all I could do. She was finding it hard to get the spooks out of him, as we say in the horse industry. He had the hard feet of a mustang and the strong build of a draft, which was needed on the steep mountain trails. When she bred him, she’d hoped that he would have the calm temperament of the draft, but that wasn’t the case. We had ponyed him with us several times on the trails, and he would jump and sometimes buck at every little thing every time. He was great in the controlled arena, but once he was out in nature, he was a hot mess. If it were me, he would have hit the sale block a long time ago. Grace spotted me coming her way and waved. She then got a hold of Tobias and led him out of the round pen. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” Grace asked as she walked up to Traveller and me. Emmy saw Doc sleeping on the porch. She ran up to him and barked, with her long tail wagging. “I’m freaking out a little, and that’s why I’m on my horse. You want to take a ride up in the mountain? It couldn’t be a more beautiful evening.” “Yeah, let me throw Mr. T out with his buddies and grab Blade.” Grace and I rode down the dirt road side by side and then across our friend’s pasture. We then followed our trail up the mountain. Doc and Emmy were

walking along in front of us, sniffing out the trail for grouse.

By the time we got back to Grace’s ranch, the sun was dropping behind the mountains. Emmy and I said goodbye to Grace and headed back to our ranch. When I got Traveller untacked and cleaned up, I headed for the house. It was getting dark, and I could feel the cool air settling in, crawling along the valley floor like an invisible fog as the sun’s heat dwindled. Emmy and I got inside. I looked for Darien but couldn’t find him anywhere. I started to worry, thinking he’d found more booze and was in a stupor somewhere. Then I walked up to his room, and found him sitting on his bed. “Hey, what’s up?” I asked after I knocked softly on his open door. Emmy ran up to him and licked his face. Darien peered up at me and gave me a forced smile, while stroking Emmy’s head. “I don’t feel good … I think I’ll try to get some sleep.” His voice sounded weak and vulnerable. He looked pale and tired. “Okay. If you need me, I’ll leave my bedroom door open. Good night.” I walked over to him and kissed the top of his head. “Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life. We need to be at the hospital by seven.” He didn’t say anything, so I just called Emmy and closed his door behind me.

The next thing I knew, I heard Emmy barking, and I felt the bed bouncing. I was in a daze and wasn’t sure what was happening, because I had been in a deep sleep. The barking continued, and this time Emmy jumped on my stomach. This woke me, and I was now sitting up in a panic. I was thinking that there was an intruder breaking into my house. I told Emmy to stop, and she did, because I was awake. When it was quiet, I heard yelling and banging noises from upstairs. “Oh my God, it’s Darien!” I screamed before I jumped out of bed and ran down the hall and up the stairs, taking two at a time, with Emmy hot on my heals. When I got to the top of the stairs, I switched on the light in the loft. The door was closed, and when I tried to open it, I found that it was locked.

When Darien heard me try to open the door, I heard him scream, “Get away. Get the fuck away from me!” “Darien, it’s me … Meredith. Let me in.” I was yelling and pulling on the door knob. “Help me, Meredith! You have to stop them. I can’t breathe! It’s my heart. It’s beating too fast!” His voice sounded panicked. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I knew that I needed to get through that door. I ran back down the stairs to try to find something to unlock the door. I found an ice pick in the wet bar and quickly ran back upstairs. My adrenaline was pumping as I heard him scream, along with a loud thud. “Darien, hold on. I am opening the door.” I franticly shoved the ice pick in the hole of the door knob and turned it. It opened, thank God. I pushed the door open and found Darien standing on the bed with his back against the wall. He was obviously delirious and hallucinating. His shirt was drenched in sweat, and he was shaking violently. “Mer, you have to make it stop.” His voice was weak, and I saw him holding himself tightly while looking down at the bed. “Darien, it’s not real whatever you see. It’s the withdrawal. It’s not real. Come to me. We need to get you to the hospital.” I tried to walk over to him, but he screamed for me to stop. “Stop! They will see you. You don’t see them? The snakes crawling on the wall? I think their poisonous, Mer. Be careful.” He now sounded childlike as he held out his arm to me. “I can feel them crawling on me.” He jumped off the bed but fell on the floor face down. “Oh my God, Darien.” I knelt down next to him to check if he was okay. I heard him moan. He was wet with sweat, and he was shaking uncontrollably. “My heart, Mer. I’m dying. Help me.” His words tore at my heart. I then realized that I didn’t have my phone. “Darien, I need to run and get my phone. I’ll be right back.” “No … Mer, don’t leave me. I don’t think I’m going to make it.” Darien replied.

Clearly he was in agony. “Darien, you’re going to be all right. We just need to get you to the hospital. I need to call Grace.” I didn’t wait for him to respond. I just stood up and darted down the stairs. I grabbed my phone off my bedside table and instantly bolted back upstairs to him. I think I did it in less than a minute. “Okay, Darien, I am going to roll you over. Are you hurt anywhere?” “Yes,” he said, his voice muffled. “I am going to have a heart attack.” With some effort, I helped roll him over on his back. It appeared that his nose may have been broken, because there was blood coming out of both nostrils. I quickly called Grace. When I looked at my phone, I saw that it was three in the morning. Still, I knew she would pick up, because she was a doctor. “Grace, I need your help. Darien is having the DTs, and I don’t think I can physically get him down the stairs.” She told me to hang up and call 911. She said she would drive right over. I gave her the new code for my gate. After I hung up with the 911 operator, I rushed down the stairs again to unlock the front door for Grace and the paramedics. This entire time, Emmy had been sitting in the loft with a traumatized look on her face. I planned on taking her with me when I followed the ambulance to the hospital. I didn’t want her here alone. Darien leaned over on his side and vomited on the carpet. He was shivering badly, and he asked me for water. It seemed like it was taking hours for help to come. Grace got here first, and she ran in the front door and up the stairs to where I was holding my brother. When I saw her, I burst into tears, my emotions overpowering me. “Is he dying, Grace?” I managed to say between my sobs. Grace hurried over to me and Darien and stroked my head with her hand. “No, honey, he’s just going through hell right now, and we need to get him to the hospital. I don’t understand. Weren’t you giving him alcohol?” Grace asked as she inspected Darien’s bloody nose. “Yes,” I answered, wiping away my tears.

“I didn’t drink it. I wanted to show you … I could stop. It’s been two days,” Darien said softly with his eyes closed. His shaking was so badly that he was convulsing. “Shit, Darien!” I yelled. “You knew that this would happen if you stopped!” I was now mad, because he could have avoided this if he’d just drunk up until he was hospitalized. “Mer, leave him alone. He’s paying the price. He doesn’t need you to remind him,” Grace said, defending Darien as she tried to comfort him until the ambulance came. We then heard the siren of the ambulance. “Oh shit, the gate.” Grace stood and ran down the stairs to the entryway and hit the button to open the gate. As soon as she got back up the stairs, I heard the paramedics come inside and rush up the flight of stairs. They had with them a backboard on which to carry Darien down the stairs. I heard Grace tell them it was the DTs and that it was bad. The two male paramedics got down to business. They placed the board on Darien’s side and then rolled him onto it quickly but carefully. The bigger guy was talking to Darien, telling him that he was going to be all right. Darien at this point was mumbling, “I’m going to die. Please, my heart is beating so fast. Who are you? Where is my sister? Mer! I need water. Please, I need water.” The paramedics then strapped Darien’s body down. They swiftly lifted him up and carried him down the flight of stairs and into the ambulance. Grace hopped in the back with Darien and the paramedics, and Emmy and I leapt into my truck, which was parked in the driveway. I watched as the ambulance raced off down my driveway, a cloud of dust in its wake. I wasn’t far behind. As we sped down the dirt road in the early morning hours, my heart was racing and my adrenaline had me feeling like I could fly. I then heard Emmy whine, which was her way of saying she was freaked out. I reached over and stroked her head, telling her that Darien would be okay. Then, out of the corner of my left eye, I saw something very big and black crossing in front of us. I hit my brakes hard, and when I did, Emmy crashed into the dash and fell onto the floor of the front seat. I screamed her name and looked for her in the darkness. Thankfully, she wasn’t hurt, just a little stunned. She jumped back into the front seat and curled up in a ball.

The ambulance had just missed the bull moose, whereas I had clipped its back end. When I hit the moose, his massive body got tossed into the ditch, but within a few seconds, he got his bearings and then trotted off across the field with his head in the air. I thought to myself that if the ambulance had had its siren on, this wouldn’t have happened. It was a close call, and it was just one of many hazards of living in the wilderness. I didn’t have time to reflect on what had just happened. The ambulance was about a half mile ahead of me now, so I hit the gas and tried and catch up with them as they turned onto the highway. When I pulled into the emergency bay, I saw that the paramedics had already placed Darien on a gurney. They wheeled him into the hospital with Grace by his side. I cracked open all four windows of my truck and kissed Emmy on the head. “You stay here, girl. I will check on you in a few hours.” Emmy just looked at me with her sad eyes as I ran into the hospital. Once I got inside, it was chaos as the hospital staff scrambled to control their new patient. Darien was violently fighting against the restraints that were on his wrists and ankles. He was screaming that he was going to die if they didn’t get the snakes off of him. They swiftly wheeled Darien into a private room. Grace rushed in and tried to get an intravenous line in Darien’s arm. He was jerking so forcibly, however, that she was having a hard time of it. I was standing on the sidelines, watching everything unfold. It was almost like I was watching it in slow motion as my mind tried to comprehend this reality. Darien was like a possessed animal as he trashed about in the hospital bed. His restraints were being tested. Grace was desperately trying to get the needle in his vein. I saw her shake her head in defeat. She then called in a large male nurse to help her try to hold Darien down. I felt like I was watching a television hospital drama. The male nurse was now lying on top of Darien, which caused him to wail and scream, “I can’t breathe … I can’t.” I then heard Grace shout, “I got it. Thank you, Josh.” Grace put tape over the intravenous line and hooked Darien up to a drip of Diazepam and fluids. The nurse hopped off my brother and high-fived Grace. I watched helplessly. Darien looked like he was near death. The drugs would

help with most of his symptoms, but not his shakes, nausea, and agitation. I heard him swearing at Josh, the nurse. His words were filled with fury. It was difficult for me to watch, for I felt inadequate and uncomfortable just standing there while my brother suffered through his detoxification. Grace spotted me standing against the wall in his room. I was sure my face was expressing my feelings. She walked up to me and touched my arm. “Hey, the drugs will take effect soon. Unfortunately, he’s going to be like this for a while, maybe a few days,” Grace confessed in a hushed voice. “A few days? My God, Grace.” I tried to keep my voice down. “He’ll get better. I promise.” We then heard the male nurse, Josh, call Grace over. “He was shaking so badly that he was ripping out his IV,” Josh stated as he added more tape to Darien’s central line. “You’re fuckin’ hurting me. Goddammit!” Darien yelled. “I feel sick.” Darien then vomited up bile all over the side of his bed and on his hospital gown. I thought to myself that there was no way he would survive two days of this. It hadn’t even been two hours, and I was panicking. I quietly bowed out the doorway and walked quickly to my truck to check on Emmy. Once I got outside, it was around five in the morning. The temperature was only in the mid-forties, and it was already light. The mountains were silhouetted in dark blue against a beautiful light-cyan-and-yellow horizon. I took a deep breath and exhaled before I let Emmy out of the truck. She was happy to see me as she jumped up on me to lick my tired face. I confessed to her that I didn’t want to go back in there. It was torture seeing Darien in that state. But I had to put his needs first. Darien was going to need me there, and I had promised him I would see this through with him. I heard the automatic doors open and saw Grace run out, looking for me. I yelled to her that I was over here, and she spotted me and Emmy. “Why don’t you just bring Emmy inside with Darien? Her presence may help the situation,” she said with a smile.

“Really? Grace that would be great. She really has a special bond with him. Thank you. Come on, girl, let’s go see Darien.” Emmy peered up at me and knew exactly what I had just said. She barked and then jumped back up on me. Grace and I both laughed. I put her on a leash, and the three of us went back inside the hospital. “Darien, I have a special someone who would love to see you.” Emmy saw Darien and pulled me swiftly to his bedside. Darien’s face went from pure panic and terror to hope when he saw Emmy. It brought me to tears. Grace hurried over and untied his left restraint. “Hey, girl. That’s a good girl.” Darien tried to sit up and then reached over so he could pet Emmy’s head. She licked his arm and smiled a toothy grin as he touched her. Her long tail wagged as she tried to get up in his bed. “No, Emmy!” I yelled. She got down and looked over at me with a look that said, “Why?” I told her to lie down, and she did right next to his bed. “Why can’t she be up here, Mer? I want her with me.” Darien demanded, his tone expressing his agitation. “Darien that wouldn’t be a good idea. I’m the boss here, so you have to follow my rules,” Grace told him as she checked his IV. “I feel sick,” Darien declared right before he threw up again, just missing Emmy, who lay below him. She quickly jumped up, tucked her tail, and ran over to me. Grace checked his other bag, which was filled with fluids to help with his dehydration. He had already gone through one bag. There was a big padded chair in his room, so I moved it over next to the head of his bed. I then told Emmy to get up in the chair. “That’s a good girl. There, now she can be close but not in the line of fire,” I said with humor to Darien. “Thank you, Mer. I love you, Emmy.” “Darien, how is your heart? Is it still racing?” Grace asked, as she cleaned his vomit off the floor. “No, it’s a lot better,” Darien said as he reached over to touch Emmy.

The medication was starting to relieve some of his symptoms, which was great. We could also see an improvement in his mood by just having Emmy there. “Any snakes?” Grace asked as she wiped the perspiration off his forehead. “No ma’am.” Darien managed to give her a smile.

I decided to run to the cafeteria and grab something to eat. “Meredith.” I heard a male voice call out my name from behind me as I headed down the hospital hallway. I quickly turned around and saw that it was Owen Roberts, a good friend of Blake’s. The two used to do a lot of hunting and fishing together. I smiled and walked up to him. We gave each other a tender hug that expressed our regrets. “I am sorry … I am sorry I didn’t call,” Owen said in my ear. Then he kissed my cheek. I pulled away and tried to stop my tears by changing the subject. “Do you work here? I thought you were working over in Jackson?” I asked while staring up at his tired face. “Yeah, I transferred over here about a year ago. Too crazy over there,” he confessed before smiling. Owen Roberts was a nice-looking, tall man in his early forties, with light-auburn hair and a strong Scottish jawline. His piercing blue eyes were reassuring, as was his demeanor. He and Blake had been good friends long before I ever met Blake. The two had met in Afghanistan during the war. Blake had never elaborated about his time in Afghanistan. I knew Owen was an army trauma surgeon, working most of his two tours on the front lines. That was all I got out of him during the short dance we shared during mine and Blake’s wedding reception. Owen was Blake’s best man at our wedding.

Blake and I got married only three months after we met. It was the middle of September, and the weather was perfect that time of year. Blake and I were

married at the Grand Targhee Ski Resort on a lower part of Sacajawea Mountain that had views of the Tetons. It was so peaceful as our small wedding party was so elegantly transported up the steep mountain on a beautiful, restored horse-drawn carriage. Four Belgian draft horses towed the loaded carriage easily up the mountain road. We spotted four mule deer as we came to the crest of the hill. They spotted us and bolted into the pine forest below. The resort staff had everything ready for our ceremony, which was to take place at three in the afternoon. There was just a simple podium for the preacher and a white, wooden arch adorned with fresh wild flowers. A grove of aspen trees encircled us, their gold leaves rustling in the light breeze. Grace was my maid of honor and Maddy my bridesmaid. They wore sleeveless, pale-yellow, mid-knee-length, fitted dresses. I had bought a formfitting, cleanline, silk, cream-colored dress with a short train. It had plunging V cutouts on both sides and a simple string of pearls across the front and back. I had my long, blonde hair in a loose updo twist with wild flowers woven in my hair. Blake wore a black tux and tie with a cream shirt to match my dress. The two guys wore black tuxes but with white shirts and tie. The ceremony had both Blake and I nervous but also excited. I ed he looked so handsome in his black tux. His hair had been slicked back with gel, making it look almost black. His green eyes revealed his love for me as we held each other’s hands, repeating the vows the preacher had just delivered. After the ceremony, the horse-drawn carriage brought us all back down to the massive tent, where the reception would take place. But before that, the wedding party was taken to the chair lift in golf carts. The photographer got on the chair in front, so he could take photos of us riding the chair lift up the mountain. Blake had brought along a bottle of champagne. We took turns drinking it right out of the bottle. We laughed and kissed as the chair lift slowly hauled us to the top, nearly ten thousand feet up. Once we got to the top, Blake jumped off the lift and had the operator stop it, so I could get off without tearing my five-thousand-dollar wedding dress. The photographer had the six of us pose for photos on the overlook platform. Several tourists saw us and started clapping and yelling congratulations. A cool breeze

came up and had us girls shivering. We then climbed up to the rocky saddle along the mountain, so the photographer could get better shots of the whole Teton Mountain Range and Table Mountain in the back ground. The view was breathtaking up on the mountain as we posed and drank our champagne. Then we spotted a helicopter flying toward us. We all waved and screamed. What I didn’t know, was that it was a friend of Blake’s, and he was going to take photos and video of us from the chopper. I saw the chopper bank left and come back over us, making several es. Thankfully, the chopper was far enough away that the downdraft didn’t blow our clothes off. The photos and the short video that his friend shot were exceptional, and they were some of my favorite shots from my wedding day. The six of us all looked so happy and uninhibited in the video. I ed Owen and Grace had a good time at our reception. The two dated for about six months afterward, but they both decided that they would just be friends. Grace never really gave me a good reason why they broke up. Then again, having heard he was on the front lines, it wouldn’t surprise me if he too was suffering from PTSD. Grace did confess that Owen had had some anger issues and wasn’t good at communicating. Come to think of it, that described Blake. Whenever we had an argument, Blake would scream and yell, and before long, he would storm out of the house and disappear for hours. He would come back inside, and we’d make up and have the best makeup sex ever. We were like crazy Italians in the way we fought and loved with such heated emotion.

Owen and Blake would go elk hunting every fall up at Blake’s primitive hunting shack, which was about fifty miles north. They hadn’t gone last fall, because Owen’s father needed his help with transitioning Owen’s mother into an assisted living facility in Arizona. I that Blake was really disappointed when Owen called to cancel. In fact, it was after that phone call with Owen that Blake and I got into a big fight. I think I was asking Blake what the big deal was that Owen couldn’t go. I asked him if he wanted me to go. Blake looked at me like I was insane, which hurt my feelings. We didn’t speak for two days, and then he left to go up to his hunting cabin for ten days. He left the morning after he came back for the trip in which he crashed the plane and killed all those people. Every time I thought about what he did, I was left feeling dumbfounded and

despondent. I sometimes asked myself if I maybe could have done something different. If I had been more accepting and loving, maybe I could have prevented it. It was easy for me to partially blame myself, because maybe I had helped influence his decision. Maybe if I had gone with him hunting, we could have made up, and then who knows? It was a question I would constantly ask myself. What if Owen had been able to go hunting? Maybe Blake would have confided in Owen and told him he was going crazy and wanted to kill himself and others.

Now, as I was standing there with Owen, I wondered if he too questioned the past. “Yeah, but now your ex is your boss. That can’t be cool,” I teased. Owen smiled wide and walked with me to the cafeteria. We sat down near the wall of windows where it was more private. There were only three other people in the cafeteria on that early morning. “What can I get you? The oatmeal is the best. The eggs are from a carton, which I am sure isn’t real food,” Owen declared as he helped me sit down. I told him the oatmeal would be fine, and I would take a carton of skim milk. Owen brought our trays of food over and sat down across from me. Seeing him again brought back happy memories. He then told me that the FBI had questioned him a few weeks after Blake’s death. I was surprised, because I wondered what he could have told them. Owen stated that Blake had confessed a lot of shit during their time at the cabin and along the river bank fishing. There was a lot of whiskey consumed during their late night poker games, and the more Blake drank, the more he would divulge. Last year, Blake had told Owen what had happened during his tour in Afghanistan. He related to Owen that what he was about to tell him, was classified information. He had not told anyone about what had happened. Blake had been leading a squadron of F-16 fighter jets over Afghanistan when he and another jet were hit by ground missiles. Both he and his fellow pilot ejected and landed only a few yards apart. As soon as they hit the hard desert ground, they spotted a trail of dust about a mile away speeding toward them. With nowhere to run, Blake and John Flanders each pulled the weapon they had inside their flight suits. Within seconds, three Taliban vehicles had them

surrounded. A dozen Taliban men, armed with machine guns, jumped out of the vehicles and screamed at them in English to drop their weapons. Blake and John both dropped their pistols and surrendered with their arms in the air. The two were ordered to get on their knees. They were then blindfolded, bound, and thrown in a back of a truck. Blake said that he felt a prick on his neck, and then he ed out. When Blake came to, he was in a dark and cold room and had no idea how long he’d been unconscious. He was naked and cold as he crouched there on a dirt floor. It was so dark, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. He tried to stand but hit his head on a low wooden ceiling. Blake said he could hear muffled voices from above. He called out and pounded on the wood ceiling with his fist. But when he did, the door opened behind him, and light flooded in. Blinded by the bright light, Blake scurried over into the corner and covered his eyes with his hands. Blake was then punched and kicked repeatedly until he ed out. Another week or so went by. His captors only gave him a few cups of water and two small loaves of stale bread a day. His cell was no bigger than five feet across and four feet high. He felt near death from exposure and starvation. The beatings happened every day, his assailants shouting at him in Farsi. Blake knew enough to understand what they were saying, which was, “Die, you American pig.” What Blake didn’t know at the time was that the Taliban had built a five-cell bunker under a schoolhouse that they had constructed. And under the classroom’s wooden floor were two American pilots being tortured. The small Afghani town and the children who were schooled there had no idea that their grade school was a cover for the Taliban to hide their prisoners. When Blake and fellow captain Airman John Flanders had been taken prisoners by the Taliban, the army special forces had planned a late night rescue attempt. But the army combat unit didn’t know that the Taliban had been warned. Unfortunately, the fifteen school children and their male teacher were locked and trapped inside the school that night. An air strike was called in to bomb the area near the school to cause a distraction. Then ten soldiers of the army special forces would storm the school and free the two air force pilots. At 0200 hours, the troops hid behind a building about a hundred yards from the target and waited for the airstrike. Blake said that all of a sudden, he heard a

deafening explosion and felt the earth around him shake violently. The walls of his underground chamber were falling in around him. Then about a minute later, there was another blast just as strong as the last. This time, Blake’s ceiling and debris fell on top of him, pinning him down. He began to scream and yell for help, but it was deathly quiet. Next, he heard a helicopter flying overhead. After that, he heard the sounds of American solders shouting and rapid machine gun fire. It sounded like chaos. Blake struggled to free himself while continuing to shout. Blake later learned the truth about what had happened during his rescue. There had been a miscommunication between the pilot who was flying the bomber and the commander on the ground. Regretfully, a second bomb had been dropped, but this time on the schoolhouse. Inside were the ten of the army special forces, the captive school children, and the teacher. They were all killed instantly, including Blake’s friend and Airman, John Flanders. Blake was the only survivor of the botched raid. Thankfully, there were fifteen soldiers waiting as backup just two hundred yards away. With some intense digging, they pulled Blake’s naked and broken body to safety. He was then airlifted by chopper to a base close by and flown to a military hospital in . Because of the collateral damage, the military kept the entire mismanaged rescue highly classified. Our government was carefully not to let the world know the truth about what had happened. Blake was told that if he ever told anyone about what happened, he would be charged with treason and would spend the rest of his life in a military prison. He never did tell anyone besides Owen, including his shrink. Owen said when the FBI questioned him, he didn’t tell them the story Blake had told him. Owen said he was worried what the Pentagon would do to him if he exposed their cover-up.

Owen and Blake had met in the hospital in . Owen’s MASH unit had been hit by a missile. Owen had suffered second-degree burns to his body and had shrapnel embedded in his legs and buttock. Blake had been hospitalized for over a month. He wasn’t released from duty for a total of two months. He had suffered four broken ribs and bruised kidneys—

from the beatings, not the blast. He also had a lacerated spleen and multiple bruises and superficial cuts over his entire body. He was suffering from malnutrition and had lost over twenty pounds in ten days of captivity. A general from the Pentagon debriefed Blake while he was recovering in an offbase apartment in Frankfurt. They wanted him completely healed and back to his previous weight before he was sent back stateside. The general then ordered Blake to forget what had happened and to go on and live his life.

“What the fuck!” was all I could say. I couldn’t believe that Blake had gone through all of that for his country and that his government had simply said, “We fucked up,” totally ignoring the fact that they had just murdered innocent children and several of their own men with friendly fire. And they told him “if you said anything about it, you will be thrown in prison”? I was shocked and disgusted. Blake had to be living in a world of great cynicism, I told myself. His story only made me feel like our government was responsible for what had happened to Blake. The military had created this monster that had consumed his thoughts and reality. I was filled with rage, but I was also feeling a lot less responsible for the days leading up to the crash. Life was full of injustice, I thought as Owen and I now sat in silence. I looked out the cafeteria window and just stared at the endless sky.

After twenty-four hours, Darien’s symptoms had nearly all subsided, except for his agitation and his inability to sleep, which had him feeling like a zombie. He was still nauseated and not able to keep anything down. Grace had slowly cut back the amount of Diazepam she was giving him. By the end of the next day, she would stop all drugs. Emmy, meanwhile, had been vigilant, staying by Darien’s side the entire time, except to go potty and to eat and drink. I asked Grace why she never told me that Owen was working under her now. She smiled and basically blew me off by saying there wasn’t anything to tell. They were just work colleagues, and they’d been professional about it. I left it alone and said that he looked good. Again, she smiled and walked away with an empty fluid bag.

The next morning when I arrived, I took Emmy out to go potty and to feed her breakfast. When I got back, Darien was awake and in a good mood. It was the first time he had been able to sleep. He opened his eyes and said to me, “Mer, I am starving!” I had to laugh, because he sounded like a five-year-old. “Okay, I will let the folks in the cafeteria know that they need to double your breakfast.” “Yes, please! Emmy was snoring something terrible last night,” he stated as he turned on the television. Grace then walked in, and I saw Darien’s face light up. I also noticed that he wasn’t shaking and that the color of his skin looked good. “How is my favorite patient this morning?” Grace touched Darien’s forehead and then checked his IV bag. “Great. I even slept a few hours,” Darien announced, feeling proud. “That’s good news. I think we can take out your IV and get you on some fluids by mouth.” “I am starving. When is breakfast?” Darien was abnormally chatty, and Grace and I were pleasantly surprised. “Well, it’s almost seven. I can run down and see if I can pull some strings and get it served a little early.” Grace pulled off the three pieces of tape over the IV needle and quickly pulled it out of Darien’s vein. “There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” she asked. “Hell no. Not after what I went through.” We all laughed. That afternoon, Darien was discharged from the hospital. Grace had arranged for him to see a psychiatrist right there at the hospital three days a week. She also prescribed a low-dose antidepressant along with potassium and B vitamins. During the drive home, Darien was tired but happy. I, on the other hand, was nervous about the future. With the withdrawal over, our battle had only just begun. Darien would still have the urge to drink and have the psychological habit to overcome. The psychiatrist would help, but I knew that sobriety would

be a lifelong challenge for him. I had found a local AA group that met every Monday night at a church in Tetonia. I wasn’t sure Darien would go, but I was going to bring him there either way.

Karen was there to greet us at the front door. She had made a light lunch for Darien and me. Emmy ran up to her and welcomed Karen’s affection. Darien was weak but in good spirits after his two-day detox at the hospital. After lunch, I helped him up the stairs so he could rest in his bed. I turned on the television and closed the door half way. I called to Emmy to come with me out to the barn. The afternoon was warm, and I saw my horses in the front pasture, standing in the irrigation canal. A few of them were drinking, and the others were laying in the grass. I had lessons that afternoon, and I was thankful for the distraction. Emotionally, I was drained. I checked on the goats. I had let them out early that morning before I left for the hospital. Their pen was in need of a cleaning, and the arena needed harrowing. I also needed to put up the jumps for the lessons. I couldn’t get Blake’s hostage out of my mind. I was troubled by the fact that our government hid the truth from the world. Blake should have received some sort of honor for his sacrifice for his country. He should have also received psychotherapy and counseling to help him deal with his PTSD. I somehow felt like it was my duty to expose our military and their lies. My anger was quickly building inside me as I shoveled up the goat droppings. I thought about how I would get Blake’s story out. It wasn’t that I wanted society to forgive my husband. I just needed people to understand that the monster Blake had become materialized because of what happened during his capture. I ed that I had Agent Morrison’s business card. He was the FBI agent who had questioned me in Salt Lake City. But I wanted more. I wanted to be the one who stood in front of the news camera and exposed our government. In a way, I wanted revenge for the hours and hours of questioning. I wanted them to take some of the blame for Blake’s mental state. The world had a right to know about those innocent Afghani children and our eleven military men, who also lost their lives. I owed it to all the veterans who had come back from war with PTSD. I wanted Blake to be the poster child for what untreated military veterans with PTSD looked like.

Blake had been prescribed several antidepressants over the years, and I had read that that was the “easy” treatment doctors choose when trying to help these veterans. I had also read that many solders with PTSD overdosed because they didn’t understand the dosage or the danger of mixing the drugs together. Pills weren’t going to make this problem go away, and our government had a responsibility to fix this, I told myself. I didn’t like the idea of me going on camera to reveal myself to the world, but I had to put my feelings of apprehension aside and do what was right. I hadn’t told Grace yet about Blake having been a prisoner of war. When I did, I would want to hear her ideas. I finished cleaning out the goat pen and went to haul the droppings over to the manure pile. It was a cool day, and I could see rain clouds drifting in from the west. When I got back to the barn, I started the tractor and harrowed the arena. I then quickly set up the five jumps. It was possible that we could get rained out, but I could use the rain. When I headed for the house, I saw Grace’s car in the driveway. She must have been checking on Darien. Emmy ran up ahead of me, looking for Doc. I went inside and changed my clothes and walked up to Darien’s room. “Hey, I see you make house calls now,” I said to Grace as she listened to Darien’s heart. “Well, when a doctor has a patient as handsome as this guy, she’ll make exceptions,” Grace said as she turned and looked at me. I could see Darien blushing and smiling wide. “Grace, I need to talk with you before you leave. Darien, I think tomorrow we should get you on Disney.” Grace said she would find me before she left. “That would be great,” Darien said. “I should have my strength back by then. What do you think, Doc?” Darien asked with an impish grin. “I think that is a great idea. It’s important that you get back to the things that make you happy. You have an appointment with Dr. Benson tomorrow at eleven.” Grace stated as she tenderly brushed Darien’s hair off his forehead. It seemed to me that Grace and Darien had feelings for each other. I wasn’t sure if Grace was just being nice or if she really had strong feelings for Darien. But Darien, on the other hand, did have feelings for Grace. I didn’t really know how

I felt about it, but I did know that having someone to love you makes a big difference in recovery from anything. I saw Grace tenderly kiss Darien on the forehead. After that, she told him to rest and to eat and drink a lot of fluids. Darien was beaming. It was a look I haven’t seen in him before, and I liked it. Grace and I walked down the stairs together and into the kitchen. “What’s up?” Grace asked before we sat down at the kitchen table. I had to ask her about Darien first, because it was bugging me. “Do you have feelings for Darien, or are you just being nice?” I questioned while sounding serious. “Wow, you always just put it out there, don’t you, Mer? You know, I think I do. I am frightened as hell, because he’s an addict and a really bad one, but the minute I saw him, I felt something,” Grace declared with emotion. I could see the emotion on Grace’s face as she spoke of my brother. “Well, he really likes you,” I said with a smile. “He does? That night when he lashed out at me, I was sure he hated me,” Grace said in a hushed voice. “Oh, he hated you all right, but not enough to deny his feelings for you.” I laughed. “I am good with it, but you have to promise me that you won’t break his heart. Grace, you know that something like that would send him right back to the bottle.” I was even more serious as I spoke of my brother’s fragile condition. “I know, and God knows. That’s why I’ve been struggling with my feelings. I figured that I would just let it happen, and if something does happen, then great.” There was a sense of hope in her tone. “Well, you do know that you’re breaking up the Old Horse Hags, right?” I goaded before I got up and made us some tea. Grace and I drank our hot tea while I told her the story Owen had told me about Blake. I spoke slowly, careful not to leave anything out. I saw the shock on Grace’s face when she learned of the horror Blake had lived through. We both took some time afterward to absorb this awful secret that he had kept for over

seventeen years. Grace agreed with me that I needed to let the American people know the truth behind my husband’s past. In light of the intense hatred and scrutiny Blake’s actions had inspired, it was important for those responsible to be exposed, Grace announced with emotion. Depression and PTSD were commonly uncovered when investigating those who have murdered others and themselves, she confirmed. Grace also agreed that this truth could help those suffering from PTSD. She pointed out something that I hadn’t thought of—that there were long-term effects from this disorder. Blake had served over fifteen years ago, and he was still fighting the effects. I was sure he may also have inherited his mental illness from his birth parents, but there was no real way of knowing that for sure.

The next day, I called a from ABC news that Grace had given me. This person that Grace knew worked in the investigation department of the news magazine 20/20. Grace had gone to college with her and dated her brother. Grace had met her several times and had followed her career. I waited on hold for about ten minutes. There was no music to the time, just dead silence. Then, I heard a woman’s voice, which sounded out of breath, answer the phone. “Hello, this is Jennifer Meadows,” she said before taking a heavy breath. I introduced myself to Jennifer and quickly explained who I was. I heard her say, “Oh my God,” and then she apologized, before telling me to continue. I told her the story about Blake in detail. I even added my own personal feelings about how veterans with PTSD and depression have been ignored or heavily medicated by our government. It felt so good to tell Blake’s story to someone I knew would listen. Jennifer was excited about the story and quickly asked me if I could the facts. Regrettably, I informed her that I could not. The raid that had happened over seventeen years ago had been labeled classified and sealed, I told her. Jennifer then went on to say that if the story turned out to be false, there could be hell to pay. I reassured her that I knew the information was true and that I was

willing to go on national television and tell my husband’s story. I said that once exposed, our president would surely reveal all the facts about what had happened during that raid, and the world would know the truth. Jennifer sat quiet for a while as I tried to calm myself down. I could feel my adrenaline fueling my words while I spoke. “Meredith, I need to talk with a few people first, and then I will get back to you. Have you spoken of this to anyone else besides me?” Jennifer inquired. “Yes, just my best friend, Grace Damson.” “Oh, Grace. How is she doing? My brother said that she broke his heart,” Jennifer noted with humor. “She’s great. I will tell her you said hi.” “Okay, great. I should be in touch in about forty-eight hours, max. Please don’t talk to anyone—and I mean anyone—else about this.” I could hear the serious in her voice. I told her that I wouldn’t say a word to anyone else, and then we said goodbye.

CHAPTER 7

T HREE DAYS HAD GONE BY, and I still hadn’t heard from Jennifer with ABC news. The day before was the first time I’d had Darien ride Disney. I started out by having him ride bareback, with me leading Disney on the longe line. I wanted Darien to learn how to balance on a horse, by using his core. A strong core would give him a good seat, which was the key to riding well. Darien’s balance on Disney was terrible, and several times he almost fell off the horse at the trot. We were both laughing, which was good, because I didn’t want him to be afraid. Yet I’d found that most men were pretty brave, and they tended to find the danger associated with riding horses quite exhilarating. By the next day, Darien’s balance had improved. He was able to hold his arms straight out while Disney trotted around in a big circle. Not once did he loose his balance. I was impressed with his improvement. Disney looked like a small horse because Darien had such long legs, which draped over the horse’s sides. I instructed Darien to envision a Native American brave riding a horse. They all rode bareback and were exceptional horsemen. I directed Darien to grip the horse’s sides with the inside of his calf and to keep his thighs and hips open so he could move with the horse’s motion. Next I told him to keep his abdominal muscles flexed, as if he were anticipating a punch to his stomach. I also reminded him to breath and feel the horse move underneath him by keeping his seat in with the horse’s back at all times. I noticed that Darien was like a different person without the alcohol to impair him both physically and mentally. He really seemed happy being there with me, and I finally felt like we had turned that corner toward sobriety. His first session with the psychiatrist went well. Darien said he liked the doctor, and he felt comfortable talking with him. He confessed that his cravings were coming back, but the doctor had given him some mental exercises to help him get through those urges. Grace and I were also doing our best to keep him busy and talking about what he was feeling inside. There was an AA meeting that evening, and I had planned on taking Darien there. Darien wouldn’t be able to drive until he took the Idaho driver’s test. He

would have to take the driving and the written test, which I wasn’t sure he would . But then again, I wasn’t sure if I would a behind-the-wheel driving test now. Darien hadn’t had a valid driver’s license for a few years now. He’d never had a DUI, but my parents had let his license expire, which was a good thing.

Grace had been coming for dinner the past few nights, which was nice, and Darien was teaching her how to cook. Grace had stopped drinking to help Darien with his sobriety, so that left me to drink alone as the two love birds fooled around in my kitchen. To be honest, watching the two of them flirt was a little nauseating for me. You see, I hadn’t had sex in over nine months, and I have to tell you, my body was craving it. I mostly noticed it in my dreams, which were dirty and filled with raunchy sex. I would wake up the next morning and feel a little embarrassed after recalling what I had dreamt the night before. That evening, my cell phone rang while we were finishing our dinner. I saw that it was a New York number, so I quickly got up from my chair and left the room. Grace and Darien both stopped talking when they saw me rush out of the room to take a call. It was Jennifer, and she announced that she and a small crew wanted to fly out to Idaho the next day to do a mock interview. The crew would set up shot locations and construct the content of our interview. The real interview, on camera, would be a few days after that with Diane Sawyer. I could feel my heart thumping inside my chest, while I listened to Jennifer explain the interview process. I hadn’t really thought this through, I told myself. It was all getting too real and frightening. I wasn’t a public figure, and when the press had been fighting for my comment on camera before, I hadn’t wanted any part of it. Yet here I was now, seeking out the press. Jennifer then stated that they wanted to do a lead-in story about me, the widow of a fallen war hero, as she had put it. I told her I didn’t want the attention on me. I stressed that this was to expose a military cover-up and to show how Blake was gravely affected by his time as a POW. Jennifer itted that it was Diane’s request that we lead in with my story. I agreed to only a short intro about who I was, and Jennifer seemed overjoyed by my response. She then said that she wanted to talk with Blake’s parents. I quickly told her that would be out of the question. I informed her that they had been through enough and that it would be

best if they didn’t talk with them. Jennifer respected my request and then apologized. I tried to swallow my anxiety and remind myself why I was doing this. I was doing this for Blake and all the other vets who were suffering every day with depression and PTSD. I also felt our government and military needed to be reminded that they weren’t above the law. Jennifer said she was excited to meet me and then asked for the name of my source. I paused for a few seconds and contemplated what she was asking. I knew Owen didn’t want to be a part of this; that was why he hadn’t told the FBI when they questioned him. I told Jennifer that my source wanted to remain anonymous. I explained that he also was a vet who had served in Afghanistan. She encouraged me to talk with my source and explain that neither the government nor the military would be able to harm him. I told her that I would try, but I knew deep down that Owen would not want his identity released. Having gone through the barrage of publicity myself after the plane crash, I could understand why he wouldn’t want the world to know who he was. Jennifer said they were trying to find other veterans who had been involved, but because the incident had been highly classified, they were hitting roadblock after roadblock. She urged me to go over the whole story with my source again, write it down, and memorize it. She and I would go over the questions that Ms. Sawyer would ask me, because the producer wanted the interview to appear natural but not choppy. It was a technique trial lawyers often used with their clients to prepare them for questioning. Jennifer said because I wasn’t used to being in front of a camera, it was important for me to know exactly what I was going to say. The mock interview would expose me to all the goings on behind the camera. A lot of people who are interviewed are fine until they see that red light go on above the camera. We would practice over and over so I would become comfortable with the whole process, she added. After I hung up with Jennifer, I had to sit down in a chair for a few minutes to wrap my brain around what she had just explained to me. Again I had second thoughts and questioned whether I was ready for the world to know who I was. I also wondered if the people in my small town would hold it against me if I linked them with another tragedy.

Grace walked into the great room and found me sitting alone with my thoughts. “Hey, are you sure you want to do this? It would be better if it were Owen going on camera. He was there,” she said, sitting down across from me. “I’ve definitely thought about that, but I know Owen doesn’t want to be identified,” I answered as I finished my second glass of wine. “Well, then, I wish you luck. If there’s anything I can do … I can sit with you just out of camera range for moral .” Grace got up and touched my hand and then left the room to go help Darien with dishes.

It was five till seven in the evening when I dropped off Darien at the church. I wasn’t sure how long his AA meeting would last, so I just told him to text me when he was done. He appeared a little nervous, yet he seemed comfortable going in on his own. I felt like a mother dropping off her son for his first day of school. I had reminded him on the drive over that everyone else there was just like him and that nothing he said would shock them. He had smiled and said, “I know.” I decided to call Owen from the church parking lot. He answered, and I proceed to tell him that I needed to go over Blake’s story again with him. He paused and then asked me why. I also paused for a few seconds and then decided not to tell him over the phone. I was afraid he would change his mind if I confessed then my plan to expose the story to the county with Diane Sawyer. I made up some lame excuse and asked if he could meet right then. We arranged to meet at a local bagel shop that was located just down from the hospital. When I arrived, I saw that there were no other customers there. Owen had just finished his shift at the hospital, and I spotted him sitting at a table by the windows. He looked tired. I walked in and sat in a chair across from him. “Tough day at the office, Doc?” I asked with affection, touching his large hand. “It’s not that it was tough, just long. I’ve never been a good sleeper, so I’ve had to learn how to function without it,” he replied while running his hands over his sleep-deprived face. “You sound like Blake. He had the same problem,” I said.

“Yeah, we had talked about that a lot. I think my insomnia can be attributed to having had bombs going off next to my hospital tent and soldiers dying because I didn’t have the medical equipment I needed to save them,” Owen declared with some emotion. “I can’t even imagine, Owen.” I paused. “I’ve thought about what you told me— about Blake being a prisoner of war and how our government covered it up. I really think that that experience contributed to Blake’s mental illness. And the fact that they told him to just forget it, that they sent him home untreated … Owen, I talked with ABC news, and I’m going to tell them Blake’s story. I think it’s time for our government to disclose the truth. I want all those veterans who suffer from depression or PTSD—” “Are you fuckin’ crazy?” Owen interrupted me. His anger turned his face red. He kept his voice down, not wanting the two employees to hear us. “You were hounded by those press assholes for weeks, not to mention how they tore into Blake’s personal life and exposed everything about him, like how his birth father was a rapist. Now you want to play their game, and for what? To shed some light on veterans with mental illness? Meredith, you’re not the first person to expose what war does to people. It’s no secret. It fucks you up and badly!” This time Owen’s voice was louder, and the two high-school-age girls behind the counter turned and looked our way. Their young, pretty faces disclosed their concern, and they both turned away after our eyes met. “It’s not just about that. It’s about how our government hid the truth about the deaths of those school children and our army special forces.” Owen just shook his head as I spoke. His rude response was now making me angry. “Meredith, do you honestly think that this was the first and only time innocent people were killed in war? You civilians are so naïve. War kills everyone in its path. There is no justice; there’s no reprieve for the innocent,” he preached. His left fist hit the table and rocked it, knocking over the salt and pepper shakers. “To be honest, I don’t fuckin’ care what you think. To me this is important, and I think it will be to the American people also. I don’t need your blessing. I am doing this, and I know it’s the right thing to do.” I finished my sentence and quickly pushed out my chair and stood. I was shaking, and the anger inside me was making me sweat.

“He’s still guilty, Meredith. Don’t ever forget that. Crazy or not, POW—it don’t matter. I fuckin’ literally went through hell and back several times over there, but you don’t see me deliberately crashing an airplane with two hundred people on board.” “That’s enough, Goddammit!” I screamed, my tears welling up in my eyes as I peered down at Owen’s angry scowl. I then noticed that his bright-blue eyes were also filled with emotion. He clenched his jaw, as he tried to suppress his temper. The two girls were now on their cell phones, and I was sure they were calling their mothers or the sheriff. “So does that mean I can’t give your name as my source?” I asked with more control and sincerity. Owen didn’t say a word. He just lowered his head and ran his hands through his auburn hair. I took this as a no and stormed out of the cafe. When I got into my truck, I noticed that Sheriff Madison was pulling up behind me on the street. “Shit,” I said out loud. I saw him get out of his truck and walk up to my driver side window, which I had down. “Good evening, Mrs. McBride. I got a call saying you and Owen were having some strong words in a public place,” he stated, sounding authoritative. “It’s Ms. Blackman, now. I changed it back to my maiden name last week. I’m sorry, sheriff. Owen and I got a little emotional. It won’t happen again.” I was fighting my urge to cry, and I knew the sheriff could see the emotion on my face, even behind my sunglasses. “All right then, Ms. Blackman. Next time don’t take it to a public place. Folks around here know who you are, and, well … you know.” He patted the opening of my window with his hand and told me to take care before strolling back to his SUV. I then spotted Owen walking out of the cafe. He seemed surprised to see the sheriff and looked at me to see if I was okay. I nodded and gave him a half smile to let him know that I was fine. After the sheriff and Owen were gone, I hung my head and had a good cry. Was Owen right? Was I trying to make it look like Blake wasn’t responsible for what he did? In my heart I knew Blake was ultimately responsible, but he wasn’t born a bad person. None of us were. God created all of us with the basic tools to coexist in society, and we were all born innocent. Yet Owen was right. Blake had

had a choice. He had been selfish in putting his flying before his mental health. Instead of going home, I drove to the church and waited for Darien in my truck. It was a cool night. The sun hung low over the mountains, and fluffy, horsetail clouds stretched along the pale-blue sky. I turned on the radio and listened to a country music station. The song being played was too sad, so I turned it off and decided to listen to nature. I then caught sight of a small flock of sandhill cranes flying overhead, their distinct calls echoing through the still air. I had left Emmy at home, and I was missing her as I sat there alone. After about an hour, I got a text from Darien saying that they were just finishing up. I texted him back to say that I was already there waiting. I noticed a few people coming out of the church. I had parked way in the back of the lot, away from all the other cars. I saw Darien walk out with two other men. My phone then rang, and I saw that it was Grace. “Hey, girl,” I answered, trying to hide my feelings. “Owen just called me,” Grace noted with a tone that disclosed her annoyance. “Did he quit? If not, he should. He’s an asshole,” I concluded. “Meredith, I want you to meet my sponsor,” Darien interrupted. I peered up and saw Darien standing next to my open window. Standing next to him was Levi. “Grace, I gotta go.” I hung up and dropped my cell phone in my lap. Levi had a big smile on his face. He stepped up to me and offered his hand for me to shake. I slapped his hand and then told Darien to get in the truck. I concluded that Levi appeared even hunkier than he had nearly seven weeks before. His face had a golden glow, and his thick hair was a snowy gray. It looked sexy on him. His three-day-old beard made him look like a rugged lumberjack. I quickly closed my eyes and yelled at my inner self to shut up. No sex in nine months would do that. I made a mental note to order a vibrator online when I got home. Darien looked confused as he watched Levi and I smile at each other. Darien obviously didn’t Levi from the airport. “So you’re an alcoholic?” I asked with sarcasm.

“Yes. I’ve been sober for fourteen years now,” Levi proudly stated. “You two know each other?” Darien asked as he got into the truck. “Oh yes, we know each other all right,” I said. “Your sister here never gave me a chance to explain myself, and sadly, I nearly died of a broken heart … well, I nearly drank myself to death, anyway,” Levi confessed, his sexy blue eyes never leaving mine. It was like I was staring into a tractor beam; I couldn’t take my eyes off of his. “You had a broken heart? You know, fuck you, Levi. Darien, this man was engaged to another woman while he was fucking me. For over a year we dated. I would have married this dick if he had asked me!” This time my words were harsh, and the endearing smile had left my face. Darien was just sitting in the seat next to me. The look on his face was priceless. He was very confused but also intrigued by my . Darien always loved my rants. As kids, I would go off on the older boys who would try and bully us on the school playground. I was little, but I was fierce. “Darien, I think I need to leave. If you ever need anything, bro, I am here twenty-four seven,” Levi said, looking inside the truck and over at Darien. “Oh, you’re calling him bro after one meeting? That’s real special. Maybe if I were an alcoholic back then, we would have had a chance. Always loyal to your sponsor and vice versa.” Now I was just getting ugly, and I knew it. So I shut up. Levi patted the open window frame with his hand like the sheriff had just done. I think it was a guy thing—their way of showing that they cared or whatever. I started up the truck and watched Levi walk away while iring his hard ass. Stop it, Meredith! I thought. “You didn’t have to be such a bitch. He’s gone through a lot. He talked about you tonight. I didn’t know at the time that he was talking about my sister, but now it all makes sense.” Darien’s expression was serious. I was shocked by the information. How could Levi still have feeling for me? Then I asked myself why I was turning all the men in my life into alcoholics. “What did he say?” I asked before I pulled onto the highway.

“I can’t tell you. , it’s called Alcoholic Anonymous,” Darien said with a sheepish grin. “Screw that, Darien. You have to tell me.” I was now sounding desperate. “No. Maybe you should ask him. It’s obvious that you still like him,” Darien replied with some attitude. “I do not! It’s just that I haven’t had sex in ages, and he’s really hot. And he’s got the biggest—” “Stop! I don’t want to hear about your sexual frustrations. Anyway, do you think Grace has feelings for me?” Darien looked over at me to find his answer in my eyes. “I like how you just changed the subject. Why don’t you just ask her, bro?” I shot back. “Touché. Well played, little sis.”

CHAPTER 8

T HE NEXT MORNING, I WAS scrambling around the house trying to prepare for the television crew’s arrival that afternoon. The crew would be staying at the Best Western hotel in town. I had invited Jennifer to stay at my home, which she had politely accepted. Grace had taken a few days off to be my emotional through this ordeal, while Darien was on Owen’s side and didn’t want any part of this “media circus,” as he put it. I had written down the story Owen had told me and rehearsed it about ten times. I had also put together a list of things I wanted to talk about with Ms. Sawyer. Grace decided to take Darien on a trail ride so she could get away from me. I was stressed to the max, and she said I was hell on wheels. When I got stressed, I cleaned, a trait I had learned from my mother. I also got short tempered, and it was best for those around me to leave. It would be Darien’s first time on a trail ride, and I was sorry I would miss it. I had him ride Traveller, my seasoned trail horse. Grace pulled Darien by the arm, and they rushed out the front door, leaving me with my mop and bucket.

The television crew arrived at around three in the afternoon. Four black Chevy Suburbans pulled up to the gate. I buzzed them through and then ran out on the front porch to welcome them. Grace and Darien had been gone for about an hour. I had hoped that they would’ve been back by now. The weather was perfect, and it looked like it would hold out for the next week or so. The first Suburban stopped in front of me, and the other three did the same. A cloud of fine dust trailed them and settled on the clean vehicles. It was hard to keep a vehicle clean when you lived on a dirt road, and Blake had always bitched about the dust.

Jennifer exited the back door, and two other middle-aged gentlemen got out of

the driver and enger side doors. Then all the doors of the other three trucks opened, and the entire crew got out. I walked down the porch stairs, and Emmy ran up to Jennifer with her tail wagging. Jennifer bent over to greet Emmy and said in a high-pitched voice, “Hey, sweetheart.” Jennifer looked to be in her early thirties. She was quite tall and thin, and she had long, straight, dark brunette hair, which was tucked behind her ears. She was wearing fashionable clothes and sunglasses. I noticed that they all were dressed pretty stylishly for an Idaho ranch shoot, although they all were from New York City. “Hey, you must be Meredith,” Jennifer said as she reached to shake my hand, still petting Emmy. “Jennifer, as you may have guessed.” We both laughed. She stood and introduced me to her two producers, Chris and Mathew. The two were well groomed and quite handsome, I thought as I shook their hands. “Your place here is unbelievable! I have been all around the world, but I have to say, this country is breathtaking. The mountains are so unique, and I see you have a million-dollar view here. Wow. And your ranch … how many acres do you have?” Jennifer asked while she and the crew walked around. “Sixty acres, six horses, and seven goats.” We all laughed again. I saw the two cameramen each hold up some kind of looking glass while discussing shot angles and lighting. “Just beautiful, Meredith. Is there a chance that we could maybe shoot you riding a horse? Seeing this place, I now think we need to incorporate your ranch into the interview. I am sure Ms. Sawyer would agree.” As we talked, we walked toward the barn. The crew was exploring on their own. The two makeup gals had gone up and greeted my needy goats. I heard the goats bleat at them, and the two gals screamed with laughter. “Sure, whatever you think,” I replied. Inside I was starting to freak out. It felt strange to have strangers poking their noses around my ranch—and my life. “Grace said you’re a horse trainer and instructor? Maybe we could shoot you giving a lesson or training one of your horses. I like that one over there, the brown and white paint.” Jennifer pointed to my horses, who had all come in

from the pasture to inspect this large group of people. “Oh, that’s Geronimo, my new guy. It was Blake’s horse,” I said without thinking. “Oh, then we have to have you ride that horse,” Jennifer confirmed. “Well, the thing is, I’ve never ridden him before. I just broke him this spring. I’m not used to having a camera crew filming me when I train,” I said while stroking Geronimo’s face. “If you think it’s too dangerous, then we can use another horse. It’s up to you.” Jennifer and her producers were all rubbing the horses’ necks and faces. “I am always up for a dare. I say we get my first ride on Geronimo on film. And if I die, it will make for great television,” I added with humor. They all laughed. After they all saw the barn, I brought Jennifer and her crew inside so we could choose the perfect location to shoot the interview. As soon as they saw the great room, it was decided unanimously that the shoot would be next to the large riverstone fireplace. I heard one producer say that we needed a fire going for the interview. Even though it was summer, we had to have that warm glow of the fire in the shot. Jennifer loved the rugged, mountain-home feel of the room, along with the bison head that was hanging over the mantel. I told her that Blake had shot it four years ago. The two producers discussed where Diane would sit. The lighting crew ran out to their truck to get the lights and extension cords. The camera and sound crew also went out to get their equipment. The makeup girls, who were both beautiful African-American women, asked me to sit down in a chair at the kitchen table. One opened a small trunk that was set up on the table. Inside, was a well-organized stockpile of beauty supplies. I watched as the two of them pulled out several trays of brushes, curling irons, straighteners, hair spray, and mousse. There was a bigger trunk with all the cosmetics. The television crew was well organized, and I have to say, their professionalism was making me a little less frightened. Janice, the makeup artist, explained to me that they would give me a look that wasn’t over done but fresh. She would first apply a warm foundation and a

slightly warmer bronzer. They wanted to give my dark-brown eyes a soft umber shadow and liner. Janice said she would give my lashes a light coat of mochacolored mascara. They would also add color and shape to my eyebrows and finish me off with an almost nude lip color. For my shoulder-length blonde hair, they wanted to give me big, loose curls and maybe pin my hair back around my cheekbones to draw them out. I was kind of enjoying this pampering, as these two makeup artists discussed their plan to make me camera ready. Jennifer came over to discuss what I would wear. She had brought about six outfits in my size, which was a petite size two. I could wear whatever I wanted when they filmed me riding Geronimo, she explained, which they wanted to do tomorrow morning.

It was around six in the evening before the crew called it a day. They loaded up the Suburbans and headed to the hotel. Grace and Darien had arrived back home around four to find my house in a state of controlled chaos. The great room had been set up for the mock shoot tomorrow. Lighting, sound, and cameras were all positioned around the two leather chairs. Jennifer said they would set up everything they needed to shoot me ridding Geronimo in the round pen in the morning. Grace and Jennifer hugged and talked about her brother, who was now married with four kids. He still lived in Boston, and his wife was also a doctor. Darien quickly started dinner while the girls chatted around the kitchen table. I had told Darien the day before that Jennifer was a vegetarian, so he was going to make her something special. I immediately told him that I was not going to be eating whatever he was going to make for her, because I was a carnivore and therefore grilled tofu would never touch my lips. He laughed and said that he was going to make a separate meal for us three.

Jennifer was very garrulous, and she entertained us with her stories about working for ABC news. She had worked there for about six years now and loved living in New York. Grace and I asked her what Diane Sawyer was like in person. She was just like the person you see on television, very funny and kindhearted, Jennifer stated as she took another serving of Darien’s parmesan-

and-mashed-cauliflower frittata. We all stayed up late talking. Jennifer and Grace reminisced about college days at Columbia University. Jennifer was several years younger than Grace, but they had both gone to the same college. Her brother, Grace’s old boyfriend, was also a physician. Well, actually, he was a gifted cardiothoracic surgeon, Jennifer announced with pride.

Darien held out in the kitchen for most of the night. I could hear pots and pans clanging and dishes being loaded into the dishwasher. I had checked on him a few times when filling my wine glass. I was the only one drinking that night, and it felt weird. Jennifer wasn’t a drinker because she was a long distance runner. “Hey, bro,” I teased before I went up to Darien and hugged him. He was scrubbing the food off the stove top. “How are you doing?” “Fine. Have you called Levi yet?” he asked as he continued to clean. “What? Why would I call him?” I pulled away from him. Darien then turned around to face me. “Because you still have feelings for him,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. I looked up at his handsome face, and we both smiled. “I can’t, Darien. He broke my heart, and Blake …” I sounded like a child. “Hey, you’re not married anymore. You’re a widow, and you’re still young. And Levi still loves you.” My jaw dropped when I heard Darien confess Levi’s love for me. “What? Did he say that? Darien you better not be messing with me.” I tried to pinch his cheeks like our sister would do to us as kids, but his height made it impossible. So I just grabbed my wine glass, refilled it, and headed back into the living room. “I’ll leave his number on the fridge,” Darien yelled as I left.

The next morning, I got up around five o’clock to take care of the animals. It was already light, and it was a beautiful June morning. The valley was still in shadow, since the sun was blocked by the mountains. I collected Geronimo from the pasture and put him in a stall with a flake of alfalfa. My nerves were making my stomach churn, so I took a few deep breaths to help pacify my butterflies. I then spotted Emmy and Doc running toward me from the creek. I was wondering why Doc was there as I walked toward the house, but then I saw Grace sitting on the swing on the front porch with a cup of steaming coffee in her hands. She was wearing one of Darien’s shirts, and her hair was a mess. “Well, good morning, sunshine. Looks like someone got lucky last night. I thought you went home,” I said as I climbed the stairs to the porch. “Think what you like. We just slept together. No wild sex, if that’s what you’re thinking. Darien’s had a hard time sleeping, and his cravings are really strong at night when he’s alone. So…” She took a sip of her hot coffee. “What the hell? Are you living at the turn of the century? What are you two waiting for?” I taunted as I sat down next to her on the swing. “We’re both nervous, and it seems right to take things slow. Anyway, you’re one to talk. Darien told me that Levi still loves you,” she shot back. “Well, Darien isn’t taking the anonymous rule very seriously. It doesn’t matter; our time has come and gone,” I replied. “Bullshit, Meredith. Levi is way too hot to let slip away. It will be fun. The four of us can hang out together.” I smiled and got up to go inside. I needed to eat something, mainly because I could feel the negative effects of having had five glasses of wine the night before, though some of it was my nerves. When I walked into the kitchen, Darien was hard at work again. He had transformed the long kitchen island into a beautiful and delicious buffet of every breakfast item known to man. As I gazed at his restaurant style presentation, the sight of food now seemed to turn my stomach sour. Darien told me to dig in before the troops arrived and obliterated it. I laughed

and grabbed a plate. I loaded my plate with a large, warm blueberry muffin and some fresh strawberries and bananas, along with a scoop of raspberry yogurt with granola sprinkled on top. He told me that there was also some oatmeal simmering on the stove, with brown sugar, raisins, and cream sitting next to it on the counter. I teased him by saying that this wasn’t the Waldorf Hotel. He must have been cooking and preparing for hours, so I kissed him and thanked him for taking such good care of me and my guests. Jennifer then walked in wearing a big smile. She was sporting long, black spandex pants and a bright-orange windbreaker. Her long, brown hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. She had just come in from a six mile run, she explained as I sat down at the table. Grace came in from outside after finishing her coffee. She pranced up to Darien, who was washing dishes, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. Jennifer and I witnessed their tender act of PDA, and I rolled my eyes at her. Jennifer responded with raised eyebrows and a goofy grin. “You’re just jealous,” Grace snapped as she peered over at me and Jennifer. “I didn’t say anything,” I replied in my defense. Jennifer dropped her head and giggled. I then heard the gate buzzer. I ran to the front door and opened the gate for the television crew. I heard Emmy and Doc bark and run up to the four black Suburbans. I walked out to welcome them. It was six in the morning, and they all looked tired as they held their grande-sized coffees. “I hope you all haven’t eaten. My brother, Darien, has made a wonderful breakfast,” I said. The producer, Chris, said they hadn’t eaten yet. As he talked, he scrolled through his messages on his iPhone. In fact, they were all on or looking at their cell phones. I yelled at them to come inside and eat. It was comical, as they all looked up when they heard me. I said it again, but this time I stressed that my brother had been up for hours to make this meal for them. The eleven of them briskly followed me into the house and into the kitchen. They all said their good mornings, and the crew hurried in single file over to the buffet. I think they all were shocked to see the extent of the breakfast. They expressed their gratitude to Darien as he showed them the oatmeal on the stove. He even had four different juices, along with tea, coffee, and hot chocolate.

“We haven’t had a buffet this nice at the Four Seasons. Darien, I could get you a chef job in New York if you’re interested,” Jennifer offered as she filled her bowl with hot oatmeal. I saw Darien blush and wipe his hands on his white apron. “You’re not taking my boyfriend away from me, Jen. He’s happy right here,” Grace chimed in. She walked up to Darien and wrapped her arms around his waist. She was just a little shorter than me, and she only came up to Darien’s chest. They were a cute couple, and nothing made me happier than seeing them together.

The crew ate their breakfast while discussing the morning’s shoot. Chris asked me when the sun would hit the valley. I looked at my watch and said, “In about ten minutes.” The sun had a long way to climb before it crested the foothills of the Tetons. The cameramen and lighting crew took two cameras and tripods along with two white umbrellas and hauled everything outside. The two makeup artists told me that they wanted to add some color to my face and just enhance my eyes and lips. The day before, I’d had them set up all their stuff in my master bathroom. When they were finished dolling me up, I hurried out to the barn to get Geronimo groomed and ready. Before I got out of the house, Darien pulled off his apron and said he wanted to come with me. Grace said she would clean up. I reminded her that Karen would be arriving in a few minutes, and she could help with the dishes. I grabbed my black cowboy hat from the coat rack in the entryway. I quickly pushed open the screen door, and Darien and I headed toward the barn. The sun had finally flooded the valley with warm, bright sunshine. I saw the camera guys talking while positioning their cameras. There were two big, white umbrellas with bright lights pointed toward the round pen. I thought to myself that Geronimo was going to need time to adjust to all those strange objects. Darien then said, “He’s going to freak out when he sees all that crap.” We walked by the crew at the round pen, and I told them that I needed about fifteen minutes to get the horse ready. I reminded Darien that Geronimo had a good mind and that after about five minutes he would be fine. Now if it were Grace’s crazy horse Tobias, he would be freaking out big time and jumping out of the round pen.

Geronimo saw us and responded with a low, vocal neigh. I told him what a good boy he was and kissed his warm nose before I haltered him and led him over to the hitching post outside. I wanted him to smell and see the crew over by the round pen. Horses have a keen sense of smell, and they rely on it more than sight. Geronimo perked up and lifted his large head to see what was going on behind him. I decided to move him so he could see the crew. His nostrils flared, and his ears turned toward the crew. I kept my routine the same, cleaning his feet and brushing his coat while I spoke to him. I could feel his muscles tense, and then he blew through his nostrils, expressing his fear. I patted his neck and told him it was fine. Darien gave him a carrot, and Geronimo gobbled it up and then quickly looked toward the round pen. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Darien asked as he rubbed Geronimo’s face. “He looks really scared.” “He’s fine. He just needs time to get used to everything. This is how you desensitize horses. The more they see, the better they are. If you never expose them to new things, then they will always be afraid. If Geronimo is focused on me, he’ll forget about all that crap.” I curried Geronimo’s rump and brushed his long white tail. He was a handsome looking horse, and he had filled out over the past ten months. I decided to ride him with a Hackamore bridle, because he was not used to having a bit in his mouth. The Hackamore was designed to put pressure on the horse’s nose and poll, which was on top of his head between his ears. The Native Americans used a type of bridle similar to a Hackamore. I decided not to use a bit. If a horse wasn’t used to a bit—the piece of metal that sat on a hard, fleshy area inside the horse’s mouth—it could cause more stress for the horse, so it was best to train a green horse without it. I also decided to ride him bareback to free him up and to make sure I could feel if he were getting tight. Darien thought that I was crazy, but to me, it all felt natural. I had trained a lot of horses and had found that using fewer gadgets meant that you got more in return. Geronimo was one of the kindest and smartest horses I had ever trained, and that knowledge was giving me the confidence to take that chance. His first ride was overdue, as I would have ridden most horses weeks ago. The only obstacle I was worried about was the fact that there were several people and foreign objects

around him that he wasn’t used to. Yet, if his attention was focused on me, the herd leader, there wouldn’t be a problem. Horses were easy to understand, and once I learned their language, I could communicate with them with just a few commands. I sprayed a product all over Geronimo that made his white-and-sorrel coat shine. I then painted his hooves with a coat of sealer to make them glisten. Before I put on his Hackamore, I wiped his face and nose with baby oil, making him look like he was ready for the horse show arena. Geronimo was settling down. When I placed the bridle over his head, he was licking his lips, and his eyes were soft. He then licked my hand like a dog. He was the only horse I’d ever owned who did that, and to me it seemed like his way of showing me his affection. “Okay, G-man, it’s show time!” I said as I led him over to the round pen. My heart was pounding but not because I was nervous to ride Geronimo. I had never had someone film me, and the cameras now looked like big monsters to me as we walked by them. Geronimo wasn’t nervous but rather curious as he strutted up to the crew. He felt good in my hands when we entered the round pen. I turned and closed the gate behind us. I tied the reins in a knot behind his neck. I then let him loose and watched him trot around the pen with his head high and his senses working overtime. He snorted a few times and then bolted around the pen a few times before stopping in front of me and bowing his head. This horse surprised me every time I worked with him. He was very smart. It was a shame that he had been gelded, because it was rare to find a horse this easy to train. I trained all my horses to first respond to verbal cues given from the ground. Then, once I was on their backs, I would teach them leg, seat, and rein cues. The cameramen told me that they were just going to shoot without sound. After editing, they were going to have Diane Sawyer’s voice recorded and played over the video of me riding. I had a long, leather whip in my right hand. I lifted it up, pointed it toward Geronimo’s right shoulder, and told him to walk on. He instantly turned away from me and started to walk along the edge of the pen walls. After that, I told him to trot, which he did. I could see that his head was still high and his ears were turned toward the crew and their cameras, so I slowly walked toward him while following him around the pen. I was putting pressure

on him, and when I did this, he focused more on me and instead of the things happening around him. I then asked him to canter, and he quickly bolted off and galloped around me. I calmly said, “Easy,” several times and backed off. I saw his right ear turn toward me, and he began cantering at a nice pace. After a few minutes, he was licking his lips and his head had dropped. I called him a good boy while I stood in the middle of the pen. I then stopped moving and asked him to whoa. I dropped my head and turned my back to him. The crew watched as Geronimo stopped, slowly walked up to me, and touched my hand. I turned around and stroked his face and neck with my gloved hand. I untied the reins that I had tied in a knot around his neck. Darien then brought in a mounting block for me to use. I heard a cameraman say, “Tom, you get the close up shot.” The distraction took my focus off of Geronimo, so I turned around and gave them the stinky eye. “Sorry,” he yelled. I had shown Geronimo the mounting block several times before, but I showed him again before I mounted him. He’d had a saddle on his back before, but not a person. I slowly walked him around the block a few times and then had him stand in front of it for about twenty seconds. I climbed up the three steps and just stood there for another twenty seconds. Training was all about repetition and patience. All my attention was focused on one thing, and that was Geronimo. I was able to hone in on his nonverbal communication as I gently lifted my right leg, swung it over his rump, and softly settled myself on his back. He felt relaxed and content with me up there. So far so good, I thought to myself. I tenderly rubbed his neck and spoke in a soothing voice. I sat there for about thirty seconds before I asked him to walk on. He didn’t know seat, leg, or rein cues yet, so I used my voice commands along with the other cues so he could learn them. I told him to walk on. I gripped my legs around his sides so he could feel what that was like. This was all new to Geronimo, but he was acting like he had been ridden for years. I was so impressed that I couldn’t help but smile. I glanced over at Darien, and I could see he was smiling too. I kept the reins loose, and then I sat hard with my seat, stopped my hips, and said, “Whoa.” He stopped, and I praised him. I felt that I could move a little faster, so I asked Geronimo to trot. I squeezed with my calves and clicked with

my tongue. He picked up the trot, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that his trot was quite smooth. I then gave him a harder squeeze with my calves and made a kissing sound with my lips before saying, “Canter.” Without hesitation, Geronimo eased into a loose, rhythmic canter. I felt like a little girl again as Geronimo and I flew around the round pen for about five minutes. I stopped him and worked on turning him, which he did well. We turned and went in the opposite direction. We walked, trotted, and cantered again for about ten minutes. The crew was satisfied with the shot, and they gave me a thumbs up. I told them that I had one more thing I wanted them to get on camera. I jumped off of Geronimo’s back and stood next to his left shoulder. I tapped it with the crop I had lying on the ground and said, “Down.” With some effort and a big moan, he lowered himself to the ground. I then told him, “Rollover.” Again, Geronimo moaned. He pushed himself over with his legs and rolled over to the other side. I walked over and said to him, “Up.” He grunted and then moaned and stood. Then he shook his entire body like a dog. The entire crew clapped and cheered. Geronimo just looked over at them, appearing unimpressed. I kissed his nose and gave him a big pat on the neck. I dug the four sugar cubes out of my jeans pocket and gave them to him. He gobbled them down and started to lick the palm of my hand. I handed Geronimo off to Darien and told him to turn him out with the herd. Darien expressed that he wanted to ride him next. I smiled and said to him that he was ready. Darien smiled and walked off with Geronimo. I could hear Darien talking to the horse as they walked away.

Jennifer was standing on the round pen rail, and she jumped down when I walked toward her. “That was fantastic. Are you sure you haven’t ridden that horse before? In the movies, they’re bucking and rearing like crazy,” she said as she brushed off the dust from her jeans. “That was how they thought it should be done, but humans have discovered that it’s a lot easier than that. Trainers have learned their language, and once we listened to horses, we learned that we were breaking their spirits,” I declared. “Well, it was beautiful, Meredith. I can’t wait to see what the boys shot. We can take a quick look on a playback.”

Jennifer and I followed the crew back into the house. The lighting crew stayed behind to dismantle the lights and umbrellas. Jennifer explained that they would shoot the mock interview that afternoon. Ms. Sawyer would be flying in tomorrow afternoon for the interview. She would then fly out immediately after we wrapped. It was Ms. Sawyer’s summer break, and she wanted to return to her vacation home in Santa Barbara. Jennifer then stated that the entire crew were on summer break, but when they’d heard from me, they knew they had to do the interview right away. The president of ABC news wanted to air the interview as a summer special and then reair the interview during the fall season kickoff. The production team wanted to have the television special ready to air the Sunday night after the July Fourth holiday, which fell on a Friday this year.

We all gathered around Jennifer’s laptop, which she had sitting on the kitchen table. The camera guy had transferred the digital video to her computer. He told Jennifer to play it back in slow motion, because that was how they were going to edit it for the show. The video was raw and unedited, but the quality of the shot was beautiful. Geronimo and I looked like we were in a Hollywood movie production. The slow-motion effect was really cool. I loved how Geronimo’s white mane and tail flowed and danced in the low-angle light. His face glistened as the sun hit it. The dust kicked up by Geronimo’s hooves swirled with the rays of bright sunlight. There were also a few close ups of me and Geronimo, which were so touching and emotional. I really loved that horse, and knowing it was Blake’s horse made it even more special. Jennifer and I looked at each other, and it was obvious to her the emotion I was feeling. She made a quick copy and loaded it onto a thumb drive for me to keep. I told the camera crew thank you and then excused myself from the room. Grace followed me into my bedroom, where she found me crying on my bed. “Hey, now, you need to keep your makeup fresh for the interview. You looked like a beautiful movie star out there, Mer, and the world is going to fall in love with you,” Grace stated. She sat with me on the bed rubbing my back. The two makeup artists walked in and found Grace and me on the bed. “Girl, we need to get you ready for the interview,” Janice exclaimed as she and her

assistant went into the master bathroom. I rolled over and sat up while wiping me eyes. “Everything looks better in slow motion. Why is that?” I asked Grace. “I don’t know,” Grace said, and she helped me walk into the bathroom. After about an hour, the girls were done fussing and messing with my face and hair. I then put on the clothes that Jennifer had picked out for me—a light-blueand-black plaid button-down shirt with a long, black, cotton skirt and black cowboy boots. I stood in front of the tall mirror in my bedroom and took a long look at myself. I had never worn this much makeup, nor had I done up my hair this way. I looked like myself but way better, I thought. It was like watching television in black and white and then switching to brilliant Technicolor, like in The Wizard of Oz. “Girl, you look fabulous!” Janice told me as she touched up my lip color.

Jennifer would be taking the place of Diane Sawyer for the mock interview. We sat down across from each other in the leather chairs the producers had taken from my formal dining room. “Wait, I need to get something.” I quickly stood up and ran into the den. I came back with what I needed and handed it to Jennifer. The entire crew and I all laughed when we saw Jennifer put the photo of Diane Sawyer over her face like a mask. I had even cut out holes for the eyes and mouth and attached a piece of string to hold it in place. “Now I am ready,” Jennifer said from behind the mask. The moment helped lighten the mood of everyone. Karen had made a blazing fire in the fireplace as instructed by the associate producer. I could feel the heat it was generating when I sat in the chair next to it. I wasn’t too nervous yet, but as soon as the camera was aimed at me, I felt myself freeze up. Jennifer could see my stress, and she quickly told me to take a few deep breaths and relax. “Just pretend that we’re good friends having lunch,” Jennifer said while she

looked through her notes. The sound man pinned a wireless microphone to the left side of my collar and told me to put the battery pack behind my back. The lighting crew positioned the lights and umbrellas and performed a quick light meter check by our faces. The cameraman added filters to the cameras to soften our skin tones and to give us youthful glows. Jennifer explained that they would start filming and that if for any reason I needed to stop, I should just speak up. I saw her filing through the pages of questions that Diane had typed up. When I spotted the red light come on from camera one, my heart instantly starting thumping inside my chest. “We’ll just start filming so you can get used to it. That is camera one, and the one behind you is camera two,” Jennifer said while trying to keep me calm. “I am just going to ask you a few simple questions to get you comfortable. Now, how long have you lived here?” We did this for about ten minutes with the two cameras rolling. She then had the camera crew cut a few times so I could see what that was like. Janice hurried over and dabbed my face with powder because I was sweating from the hot lights and out of nervousness. She also handed me a cold glass of ice water, which I drank down. But that meant she had to touch up my lip color. I was getting used to the cameras, and soon it seemed like just Jennifer and I having a chat. The producer hurried over and attended to the fire before we moved on to the mock interview. This time, Jennifer would ask the questions Ms. Sawyer would be asking me tomorrow. We ran through the questions about three times, and each time I felt confident with my answers. Jennifer and the crew were happy with the way the interview was going. I smiled and took a deep breath between takes. Janice would run in and touch up my hair or makeup. “You’re doing great, honey. You were meant to be in front of the camera!” Janice commented as she gave my cheeks a darker coat of bronzer. Jennifer mentioned that Ms. Sawyer may ask a few questions not listed on her sheet. She explained that when you’re interviewing someone, an answer may prompt follow-up questions. This had me worried, because I didn’t want to look like a fool on camera. Jennifer could see the fear in my eyes when she told me

this, so she reminded me that the cameras could stop at any time if I needed them to. She then held up the photo of Diane and again put it over her face, sticking her tongue out through the hole for the mouth. We all laughed again. The producers walked over and discussed their plan for tomorrows interview with Ms. Sawyer. They wanted to start the interview with Diane talking with me, outside by the pasture with the mountains in background. Ms. Sawyer would then ask me personal questions about myself and my marriage to Blake. It would be a lead-in story, Jennifer added. The camera crew wanted to wait until six or later in the evening to give them softer light. The plan was to then move indoors and continue the interview about Blake’s time as a POW and about how our government had kept it a secret. Ms. Sawyer would be flying into the local airport on a private jet at around five tomorrow evening. The airport was only six miles from my ranch, which would make it convenient for her. Jennifer yelled, “It’s a wrap.” We both stood, and I was thankful that this part was over. The crew all took care of what they need to do as I headed to my bedroom to change. Grace and Darien had both been watching the interview from just out of camera range. “I don’t think you should do this,” Darien commented. The two of them had followed me inside my walk-in closet. “Well, big bro, it’s happening. It’s too late to back out now. You heard Jennifer; Ms. Diane Sawyer is coming here tomorrow. Fuckin’ unbelievable.” I undressed right in front of them, pulling on my worn jeans and my red button-down shirt. “The government is going to shit when they hear this, Mer, and you’re going to be in the middle of it.” Darien sounded concerned, and his concern was now making me a little nervous. “What do you mean? They can’t hurt me,” I responded while I buttoned my shirt. Both Grace and Darien laughed at my naive remark. I quickly turned around to face them. “Do you really think our own government would—” “Hey, there you guys are.” Jennifer walked in my closet and interrupted me. I think she had heard part of our conversation, and I was sure she didn’t want me getting cold feet. “We are finished for the day, so I thought you could take me on

a trail ride. I rode a lot as a teenager, but it’s been a while.” Jennifer was acting more cheerful than normal, and we could all see what she was trying to do. “You know, that would be a great idea, Jen. What is the crew doing?” I questioned as I pulled on my boots. “Oh, they said they wanted to check out downtown Jackson Hole.” “Grace, you up for going on a trail ride?” I asked, sliding my belt through the loops on my jeans. “That would be fun. I just need to run home and get Blade ready.” Grace kissed Darien and ran out of the closet. Darien said he would go and get the horses from the front pasture. I told him to get Traveller, Disney, and Coal. When Darien left, I asked Jennifer if she thought the government would try to hurt me. She laughed it off and asked what could they do. I hoped that her beautiful, big, brown eyes were telling the truth. I felt the reward was worth the risk and knew deep down that this was the right thing to do.

The afternoon weather was perfect for our trail ride. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the temperature was in the seventies, and there was a light breeze to keep us cool. The three of us rode over to Grace’s place to find that she had just mounted up and was ready to go. We decided to ride down the road over to our neighbor’s barley field and up the foothills of the ski resort. Grace and I had made the trail years ago, and it was our favorite trail to ride, because we got up to the edge of the resort where we could see down to the valley below. In the fall, Grace and I would gallop in the plowed fields and sometimes race if we were feeling brave. Once we crossed State Line Road, we were in Wyoming. Up ahead, we saw another rider coming our way. It was a man on a beautiful, tricolor paint, and he had a large black Lab trailing him. I saw Darien wave his arm up and then look over at me. His face revealed his guilt. “Shit, are you kidding me?” I said after I recognized who was riding up to us. “Darien, you’re a dead man.”

Darien just gave me a big grin as he kicked Disney into a trot and rode over to Levi. Emmy and Doc spotted Levi’s dog and barked while they followed Darien. “Well, well. Looks like Meredith has an irer,” Grace goaded. Jennifer looked confused, but she laughed along with Grace anyway. They all said their hellos except for me. Levi then rode right up to me and Coal and remarked, “We’re neighbors. I moved here about a year ago, on the Wyoming side, just down the road. I bought the old Miller Ranch.” “Of course you’re on the Wyoming side. Where else would you possibly live?” I replied with fire in my tone. For those of you who don’t live where I do in Teton Valley, Idaho, there is a subtle rivalry between the two border states. The rich and famous seemed to gravitate more to the state of Wyoming in Jackson Hole, whereas the folks who liked quieter and less conspicuous lifestyles lived in Idaho, the more affordable side of the Tetons. By just crossing State Line Road, which was a mile from my ranch, into Wyoming, the property values skyrocketed. “Meredith, don’t be such a witch. Is that how your mother taught you to treat your neighbors?” Grace mocked. We all rode along, two by two, none of us saying a word. Jennifer was riding alongside of me and Coal. She was on Traveller, and she was doing well for not have ridden in years. I think it was like riding a bike; it all came back once you were back in the saddle. Levi was ridding up ahead now next to Darien and Disney. The three dogs were having a great time discovering each other. I saw Emmy run up to Levi’s Lab and almost pounce on him. She wanted to play, and Doc wasn’t happy about Emmy flirting with another beau. “You want to talk?” Jennifer questioned. “Not really … but I can sum it up for you in just a few sentences. Dated for a year some sixteen years ago. Found out he was engaged to another woman, so you could say he broke my heart. And now he thinks that just because my husband is dead, I’ll want to start dating again.” My tone again was harsh and filled with bitterness, but I didn’t like the way it tasted in my mouth. I didn’t like

the way I was acting, either, so I decided to ditch this ugly person I was being and be thankful for this time with family and friends. “You know, I’m being a bitch. I’m sorry, Jennifer. Levi and I had a great romance, and if he still loves me …well, maybe I’ll have to see where that goes.” I peered over at Jennifer, and I could see her smile. “Good for you, Meredith. Life is too short to hold grudges. And if I may say, he is really hot for an older man.” This time Jennifer was whispering. I laughed at her “older man” remark. “That he is. And he has the biggest—” “Meredith!” I heard Grace yell from in front of us. “What? I was going to say heart,” I said with humor. Jennifer was laughing out loud. At that point, the six of us started climbing a steep switchback.

The next day, I was excited about Diane Sawyer coming to interview me. I felt like I already knew her, like most people did. She wouldn’t be arriving until later in the day, so I used the free time to give Darien a lesson on Geronimo. By the time I got to the barn, Darien already had Geronimo saddled and ready to go. We started in the round pen with Darien longeing him to reconfirm his status as herd leader. Darien did everything I had taught him, and it was a beautiful sight. Darien was a natural horse trainer, I thought to myself. I decided to stand in the middle of the round pen in case Darien needed my help. I talked him through the steps of using his verbal cues first and then applying the other cues so Geronimo could learn them. The only problem was that Darien was still learning the other cues himself. It was important that he give them correctly, otherwise Geronimo could get confused or learn the wrong thing. I would be there to teach Darien so that he, in turn, could teach the horse. It was an exciting moment for me, because it had been a long time since I had taught someone to train a horse. That person was Blake, some two years ago. Over my shoulder, I saw Levi climb up on the round-pen fence and sit. I pretended I didn’t see him and told Darien to relax. I could see his shoulders rise

and his butt tighten. Darien saw Levi and said, “You made it.” Levi simply raised his hand and smiled. I peered over my shoulder, while shadowing my eyes with my cowboy hat, and smiled in return. Deep in my tummy, I felt a flutter, and then heat rushed up into my face. Levi was wearing a black cowboy hat, and he looked so handsome. I was now distracted, and I lost my focus because of Levi’s presence. It was a good thing he hadn’t been there when the film crew was filming me. I heard Levi tell Darien to keep his thighs loose and not to grip with his knees. He said exactly what I had been about to say. I would’ve said it, but I was too busy daydreaming about him naked with only his cowboy hat on. I was getting soft, and I didn’t like it. I turned around and told Levi that if he was going to watch, he would have to keep his trap shut. Levi delivered a sexy grin and put his hands up in the air like he was surrendering. His reaction was a little dramatic, but I let it go and returned my focus to Darien. Man, I was so horny! I tried to clear my head and keep my mind on training. Darien said he wanted to canter, so I just said, “Go for it, but if you feel yourself losing your balance, you tell him to whoa. A good horse will feel you lose balance and stop.” Darien went through the steps I had taught him, and I watched as Geronimo eased into a smooth canter. I reminded him to stay loose and just follow his rhythm and feel his energy. I saw his hands come up, and I yelled for him to keep them down. Darien replied with a calm, “Whoa.” Geronimo came back down to a trot. Darien wasn’t ready for it, so he bounced on Geronimo’s back. “Keep your seat glued to his back. Absorb the shock; keep your hips loose … good …now ask him to canter again, but his time I want you to keep your arms straight out like you are flying.” Darien did as I asked, and a big smile spread across his face. Geronimo cantered off, his rhythm good and his eyes soft. “Good, Darien! You’re now flying! You look like an Indian brave!” I saw Levi smiling, and together we felt like proud parents.

After his ride, Darien was on a big high. I knew what that felt like, and that was how horses got in your blood. It was hard to explain to those who didn’t ride horses that feeling of euphoria, of being one with the horse.

Karen had made lunch for us and the entire crew. Darien was grateful for the time off, and he thanked her before loading his plate with food. Karen had been slow-cooking a ten-pound pork butt in the oven for over fifteen hours. She had made her famous barbecue sauce for her pulled pork sandwiches. Karen had also made sweet sun tea, potato salad, brown beans, and a fresh fruit salad. The crew also loaded their plates and sat around the formal dining room table, while our little group decided to sit at the kitchen table. Darien had invited Levi to us, and he had accepted his offer while looking over at me. He wanted to see my facial expression. I simply looked back at him and smiled. Again, I felt a rush of preteen excitement flow through my body. “What’s your dog’s name?” Darien asked Levi as he took a bite of his pork sandwich. “Stretch,” Levi replied before filling his face with potato salad. “Great name,” Darien said. “Who are all these people?” Levi inquired, looking over at me this time. “They’re from ABC News, and they’re interviewing me about Blake. Diane Sawyer is flying out this afternoon to do the interview. We’ve been practicing before she got here,” I stated while avoiding his sexy blue eyes. I couldn’t keep myself from staring at him. I was drawn to him, and the sexual tension was building up inside me like a volcano ready to burst. “Why would you do that?” Levi asked. I could feel him gawking at me. His tone revealed his skepticism, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. We both had direct personalities, and we would say precisely what we were thinking. It was a trait we had loved about each other in the past. He ired how outspoken I was and how I wasn’t afraid to say what I felt. “It’s a long story. Anyway, I know I am doing the right thing.” I finished my

sentence and quickly stood while holding my plate. I walked over into the kitchen and handed it to Karen. I thanked her for everything and then kissed her on her cheek. I excused myself and told Janice I was going to take a quick shower. She waved her arm and yelled, “Girl, take your time, this food is to die for.”

The hot shower felt good on my naked body. My thoughts instantly went to Levi and our ionate past. The sex we’d shared together was the best I’ve ever had. My sex life with Blake had been good, but it lacked ion. Blake was an internal lover, if that makes any sense. He was very private with what he was feeling when we made love. We would go through the motions and would both feel satisfied in the end, but it felt disconnected. I sometimes felt he was somewhere else when he was making love to me. There was no talking or playfulness; it was just down and dirty and then done. Levi, however, had been engaged and romantic in every way. We would role play and get silly and make our sex life different and exciting. I was very young back then, but those memories were never far from my thoughts. Making love with Levi had been an ongoing ordeal. We would romp and play for hours like silly teenagers. Levi was constantly complementing me, and he was obsessed with my body. His tender touch would make my pussy tingle. I recall how his blue eyes would gaze into my mine and create a wave of heat inside me. My attraction toward him would leave me debilitated and helpless to resist. My favorite memory was of when we were taking a shower and he had bought body paints. He took them out and had me lie on the bench on my back. He first took some shaving cream and a razor and carefully shaved my pussy clean. I loved it, and to this day I still kept it clean shaven. Levi then proceeded to paint my body for about ten minutes. He created a masterpiece upon my wet flesh. It felt so erotic, and I I giggled uncontrollably when he was painting around my ribs. He had painted colorful flowers blossoming all over my body. When he was finished, he proceeded to lick the paint off my boobs. It was then that I learned that they were edible body paints. I mocked him, saying he had a future career being a body artist. I recall how I was getting cold, so he tenderly carried me outside where it was sunny but only ten degrees. I screamed when he brought me out in the cold. He pretended like he was going to throw me into the

snow bank. I wailed again, but this time I kicked my legs and gripped his neck hard. We both laughed and kissed ionately while we held each other. He had the spa set at 104 degrees, and he gently eased me into the hot, steaming water and lovingly kissed my cold mouth. A few times, Levi had taken me to homes he had listed for sale with his real estate business. These homes were multimillion-dollar mansions owned by powerful people from around the world. Levi would have me try to guess who the owners were. I would inspect photos and look in the dens, where the best clues were. It would only take me a few minutes, because most rich people had a lot of photos of themselves. We would have sex in different rooms of these mansions, chasing each other from room to room. Loud music would reverberate throughout the house, and we’d dance around naked while drinking margaritas. I felt like a kid again when I was with Levi. He had such a carefree way about him, and it was infectious. Yet, the most important and best thing about Levi was that he was a great lover. He made it his goal to please me, and nothing gave him more pleasure than seeing me climax. After I would cum, he would fill me with his enormous dick and give me multiple orgasms. One time we stayed in bed for eight hours, eating, drinking, and making love. It happened to be at one the mansions he had for sale. The master bedroom was decorated with fine eighteenth-century decor and antiques. It felt like we had traveled back in time to an era where women wore awful corsets and too many clothes. Levi and I spoke in our best British accents while we groped each other among the silk sheets like wealthy aristocrats.

I suddenly heard Janice yell for me to hurry up. The sound of her voice made me jolt. I had become lost in my daydream about my past. I was hot with lust, and if Diane Sawyer weren’t arriving in a few hours, I would have masturbated. Wow, I bet not many other people have ever uttered those words before. I quickly turned the shower handle and blasted myself with cold water. I screamed out from the shock when the cold water hit my heated body. “You okay in there?” Janice asked.

It had worked, because I was no longer thinking of Levi’s deep, penetrating penis. I turned off the water, jumped out of the shower, and grabbed my towel. I had goose bumps covering my entire body, and my nipples could cut glass, they were so hard. Janice was standing in my bathroom organizing the cosmetics. “Don’t be shy. I’ve seen a lot of naked white girls. You’ve got nothing that excites me,” Janice remarked as she looked over at me. I smiled and went into my walk-in closet to get dressed in the same outfit I had worn during the interview with Jennifer. I hurried over and sat in the chair Janice had placed next to the vanity. She dried my hair with the blow dryer while Kimberly, her assistant, air brushed on my foundation. My thoughts again went to Levi, and I had to get my focus on the interview with Diane Sawyer. I closed my eyes and went over the details of Blake’s story. “Do you two make up Ms. Sawyer?” I questioned while Kimberly plugged in the hot rollers. “Yes ma’am. She’s got beautiful skin like you, Ms. Blackman,” Janice declared as she brushed my hair. It was strange to hear someone call me Ms. Blackman again. I was starting to get nervous thinking about Diane Sawyer in my home. I asked Janice if she could run and get me a drink. “Girl, now we both know that’s not a good idea. Ms. Jennifer would fire my ass if I let you consume an alcoholic beverage,” Janice responded with conviction and some attitude. I made a sad face and crossed my arms. Janice and Kimberly laughed at my childlike reaction.

CHAPTER 9

T HE CREW WAS RUNNING AROUND making sure they had everything ready for Ms. Sawyer’s arrival. She would go directly into makeup and hair before beginning the interview, Jennifer explained. The two producers had driven to the airport to pick her up. With everyone was preoccupied, I grabbed a bottle of wine, snuck it into the pantry, and drank down about half the bottle in about five minutes. I needed something to take the edge off, and I could already feel the edge disappearing as I swallowed the cool wine. The pantry door then swung open, and standing there was Darien. His face expressed his disappointment in me. “Don’t judge. This is a big deal, Darien! It’s not every day that Diane Sawyer comes to your house and interviews you,” I said while taking a long swig of wine right from the bottle. “You’re a hypocrite,” was all he said before he slammed the door shut. I put the wine bottle down on a shelf and rushed out of the pantry. I looked around the kitchen and spotted Jennifer, looking preoccupied as she stood by the island holding her phone. She saw me and called me over. She said that Ms. Sawyer should be there in about five minutes. Jennifer then called over Janice to touch up my lip color. Oops, I guess the wine bottle was wearing some of my lipstick. I asked Jennifer what I should say to Ms. Sawyer when she arrived. Jennifer said to just say hello and welcome her to my home. “Don’t worry, Meredith, she’s so easy to talk to,” she said, hoping to reassure me. We all heard the screen door squeak and then slam shut. Jennifer ran down the hallway to greet Diane Sawyer. I just stood there, not sure what to do. I took a deep breath and walked toward the entryway. The crew were all taking care of the last technical details. I heard Diane’s familiar voice, and it instantly felt like an old friend had just arrived.

“What is more American than a squeaky screen door and the way it slams shut?” Diane observed with humor. That was the journalist in her talking, I thought. Blake hated how the screen door made that loud squeaking noise and how it would slam shut. I, on the other hand, loved it. Like Diane, I too thought it was what life in America was all about: squeaky screen doors, baseball, and apple pie.

I smiled and turned the corner to witness her beautiful smile and those empathetic eyes peering at me over her black-rimmed glasses. I noticed that she wasn’t wearing much makeup, and her blonde hair looked recently washed but not styled. Ms. Sawyer was toting a large, black handbag and an iPhone. She had on a tan-colored trench coat and Nike running shoes. Her young assistant was holding her laptop and her Starbucks coffee cup. I could see a lipstick stain in a light shade of pink along the rim of the white cup. Jennifer spotted me and indicated with her eyes that I should get the hell over there. Ms. Sawyer was expressing to Jennifer and the two producers how beautiful her flight had been coming in. She joked that she thought for sure that the jet was going to cruise right into the mountains in front of them. Jennifer pulled me over and introduced me to Ms. Sawyer. I felt a little light headed as I reached out and shook her warm hand. “So great to meet you, Ms. Sawyer,” I said, my smile so big that my cheeks hurt. “Diane, please. The only person I let call me Ms. Sawyer is my ant,” she informed me with a warm smile. We all laughed. “Your ranch is just beautiful, Meredith. Jennifer sent me a copy of everything they’ve shot so far, and I think our interview shouldn’t take too much of your time. I’m sorry. I think they need me in hair and makeup. We’ll talk more later.” She tenderly touched my hand. Her considerate touch felt motherly. She then followed Jennifer down the hall. Grace and Darien hurried over to me from the great room. They both looked star struck, and Grace jumped up and down saying, “Oh my God.” Jennifer came back out and told me that Diane should be ready in about thirty

minutes. They were going to shoot the two of us along the back pasture fence and then come inside to shoot by the fireplace. The crew had everything set up outside, and they were just waiting for us. I looked around to see if Levi was still around. Darien told me that he had left. It would be easier with him not there, I concluded. I just hoped that I wouldn’t get too emotional when Diane questioned me about my marriage to Blake, because I didn’t have a subtle-looking cry. It was more of an ugly cry, my face curling up into a grimacing mess. I could just hear the producer yell, “Cut! She’s doing the ugly cry!”

Darien had brought Emmy over to Grace’s house so she wouldn’t get in the way. It wasn’t the same without Emmy there, and I was missing her now as my stress level was rising. I could feel the alcohol swimming in my blood stream, and it was slowly relaxing me. I was feeling loose, and my confidence was increasing with each minute. Diane Sawyer hurried out of my master bedroom along with Jennifer, her assistant, and the makeup artists. She entered the great room, where we were all waiting, still wearing a warm smile, but now she wasn’t wearing her glasses. Her makeup and hair looked glamorous and classy. She was wearing black slacks and a pale-blue blouse with a black denim jacket. I wasn’t sure how old Ms. Sawyer was, but I hoped that I would age as well as she had. Jennifer showed her where the interview would be when they were finished outside. Ms. Sawyer nodded her head and pointed to the roaring fire in the fireplace. I then saw her peer up at the Bison head, and she and Jennifer both laughed at something Diane had said. Jennifer looked over toward Darien and told him to make sure the fire was stoked when Diane and I sat down. She also told him to turn on the ceiling fan, because it was getting too warm. Diane then went up to Darien and said, “You are Meredith’s brother, correct?” Diane reached out her hand to Darien. Her smile was infectious. Darien froze and just smiled and nodded before he shook her hand. Jennifer interrupted, telling Diane that the crew was waiting. Diane nodded back at Darien and followed Jennifer down the hall.

Janice took me by the arm and escorted me down the hall behind them. “You’re doing great, Mer. Just to breath, girl.” I gave her a shy grin and mouthed, “Thank you.” We all walked over to the back pasture fence, where the two cameras were set up. The lights and umbrellas were also positioned in front of us. The producers had Diane and I stand next to the buck-and-rail fence with my horses and the Teton Mountain Range in the background. It was a perfect evening as the sun hung above the Big Hole Mountains to the west, casting a soft, warm light across the valley. Jennifer spotted two hot air balloons high up in the sky to the south. My six horses were hanging around us as the crew fitted us with wireless microphones. Janice quickly touched up our makeup and hair. Diane then told me that she was afraid of horses. I was shocked, and I wished that I had more time with her. I would have loved to do the chair in the pasture exercise, like I had done with Darien. I told her that they were just like big dogs. Diane seemed surprised and looked a little more relaxed when Geronimo walked up to her and smelled her arm. Diane laughed a nervous laugh and got up the nerve to touch Geronimo’s nose. “Oh, it’s so soft,” she exclaimed while laughing. “Diane, we need to start shooting. We’re losing our light,” Jennifer announced while standing behind camera one. “Okay. Sorry folks. Let’s roll,” Diane replied as she pulled out her notes. I was really nervous now, and my wine was failing me, for my adrenaline had overpowered the alcohol. I took a deep, cleansing breath and slowly let it out. Diane could see my anxiety, and she quickly touched my cold clammy hand. She moved in close to my face and told me it would all be fine. Her words helped, and I could feel my fast heart rate diminish. Diane started the interview by asking me how long Blake and I had lived here. She was easy to talk with, and soon I was back to myself. We spoke on camera for about fifteen minutes. Not everything we shot would be used; a lot of it would be cut during the editing process. Diane’s questions then got a little personal, and she asked me if I’d had any suspicions that Blake was capable of

mass murder or if I was in any way aware of his dangerous mental illness. She went on to ask whether he had ever mentioned his birth father or had ever tried to find him. I was getting uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I answered her questions the best I could. After that, Diane asked me if I loved Blake and what kind of husband he was. After I answered her last question, Diane went on to ask if Blake was ever violent with me. Her tone resonated with comion as she gazed into my eyes. My emotions were boiling up in my throat, but I swallowed them down and answered her questions with integrity. I tried to paint a picture of what my marriage to Blake had really been like, and truthfully, it wasn’t bad. I told her that he was a good husband but that he did have a bad temper. He never was violent with me, though. He would throw things or hit the wall with his fist, but I was never the subject of his physical outbursts. He also wasn’t a good communicator, and he would often leave for days after one of our many fights. Diane then asked what we would fight about. I had to stop for a few seconds to think about that question. I delivered a nervous smile while looking out in the pasture at my horses grazing. I recalled what we had been fighting about when he went up to his hunting cabin, but I couldn’t tell her that story, because Owen didn’t want to be identified. I would respect that. I turned to look at her and simply said, “You know, we fought about stuff every married couple fights about: money, sex, who left the goats out the night before.” I gave her a warm smile. Diane returned my smile and touched my hand, which was resting on the fence rail. I also added that Blake had had severe insomnia and that I was sure that was from his PTSD. The producers both yelled, “Cut,” and told me that they wanted to wait to talk about Blake’s PTSD when we concluded the interview inside. I quickly apologized and looked over at Diane. She was smiling and said, “Don’t worry about it. They will just edit that part out.” She really was like the person we all saw on television. The producers and Diane were happy with what they had so far, and they decided to wrap the outdoor shoot. Diane touched my hand again and told me

that I had done great. Jennifer yelled to everyone that we all needed to get inside. Diane and I walked together, and she expressed her gratitude. I told her that the past ten months had been hard on me and that I hoped that with this story, we could help others. She stopped when we neared the front porch, and I could see the emotion in her blue eyes. Diane stated that she was sorry that I had been associated with my husband’s horrendous actions and that she hoped that I would find peace. Diane and I both took our seats next to the fireplace. I was feeling comfortable now, mainly because Diane was so down to earth and sincere. We smiled at each other, and then she winked to help reassure me. The interview would now transition into Blake’s service in the air force and his two tours in Afghanistan, but first, Diane wanted to remind the audience who Blake was. It had been almost ten months since the plane crash, and it was important to revisit the most tragic American mass murder. It was also important to not disrespect those who were lost and their families. The interview lasted for about an hour before Diane and her producers felt they had everything they needed. “It’s a wrap,” Jennifer yelled out. Diane pulled her chair closer to me, rested her hand on my left knee, and said, “Thank you, Meredith. You were absolutely fabulous. We are going to make this right. It will be interesting to hear what our military has to say about this. Again, I am sorry for what you’ve had to go through these past months. This may help to explain why Blake did what he did, but it doesn’t absolve what he did.” Hearing her words brought me to tears, and I hung my head and wept. I covered my face with my hands, and Diane Sawyer rushed over to comfort me like a loving mother.

Within an hour, the entire crew, along with Diane Sawyer, had left my ranch and my life forever. I sat on the front porch swing alone with my running mascara drying on my bronzed cheeks. It had been a crazy few days, and I felt relieved that the entire process was over. I could now get back to my normal life again. Jennifer told me that she would let me know when the final cut of the interview was ready. We had less than a week before that Sunday after the July Fourth

holiday weekend when it would air.

Darien and Grace had gone over to her place to get Emmy while I sat on the swing. I was missing my pup. The sun had fallen below the mountains, and the horizon glowed in several shades of crimson. “Hey, you in the mood for some company?” I looked over and saw Levi standing near the edge of the porch. “Hi, Levi. That was crazy. Don’t ever let me do something like that again,” I said, and then I smiled at him. I quickly tried to wipe away my Alice Cooper eyes before he sat down next to me. “You looked great. And I think you’re right; it’s important that the world knows the truth. That was some crazy shit that Blake went through.” Levi’s tone revealed his honesty. I reached over and took his large hand in mine. I then leaned over but stopped as our eyes met. I closed my eyes and searched out his warm, soft lips. As soon as I felt his mouth touch mine, my breath ceased, and my butterflies were back bouncing around in my tummy. Levi reached up to entangle his fingers in my styled hair and pulled me closer to him. My emotions were welling up inside me again, and soon I was weeping while Levi kissed me with fifteen years’ worth of ion. I held him as hard as I could while we kissed. I could feel my warm tears rolling down my cheeks. My hand found the opening in his button-down shirt, and I ran my hand over his smooth, well-defined chest. After a few minutes, Levi pulled away. He wiped away my wet tears and stroked my face with his hand. I’d never wanted someone more than I wanted Levi at that moment. Yet, I knew in my heart that this wasn’t the right time. “Blake told me that you still loved me … well, he said you’d never stopped loving me.” Levi said, still gazing into my tear-filled eyes. I covered my mouth with my hand and gasped in shock. “Oh my God. When did you see Blake? How do you know him?” I had so many questions buzzing around in my head that I couldn’t focus.

“He was good friends with a buddy of mine, Doug Walberg. Doug liked to have three guys in the drift boat when we floated the Teton River, so he said he knew of a guy. When he introduced him to me, I think Blake saw the blood run out of my face, because he quickly commented that he knew who I was. I was his wife’s true love. Doug just stood there, dumbfounded and confused. I couldn’t go fishing with him after that comment, so I apologized to Doug and sped off in my truck. Blake seemed pretty drunk, I . Being an alcoholic myself, I could see the signs.” “Oh my God, Levi. When was this?” I was surprised that Blake would have said that. I had never spoken of Levi during our marriage, but then again, Blake had been correct. “It was a few weeks before the plane crash. I knew who Blake was; it’s a small town, ?” Levi replied, delivering a half smile. I just sat there, peering out at the setting sun. I could see the geese flying overhead as they left the barley fields and flew to the river for the night. It was moments like this that I felt happy to be alive. An end to another day, and I was thankful to be a part of it. Levi smelled so good, I thought as I looked into his piercing blue eyes, which told a story of lost love. “Okay, Levi. You said that I never gave you a chance to explain why you were engaged to another woman. I am giving you the floor. This should be good,” I goaded as I touched his jawline and kissed his warm lips. Levi looked down after I kissed him, and I saw him smile while collecting his thoughts. I could tell that he was having a hard time finding the right words to start with. He first confessed that Levi Wagner wasn’t his real name, for his birth name was Charles Preston Astor IV. His family had settled in New York City in the eighteenth century from England, and they were known for being America’s first aristocrats. Levi’s great-great-grandfather had owned most of the real estate on the upper east side of Manhattan. Levi explained that arranged marriages were commonplace among the very wealthy. He said his marriage had been arranged when he was only ten years old. When he turned sixteen, his parents and the other parents announced the engagement of the two families to their limited society. It was important to keep

the blue-blood lines pure, as his mother had told a young Levi when he objected to his engagement to a girl he had only met once. His future bride was from the honorable Livingston family, who were also real estate moguls controlling most of the upper west side of Manhattan. At the age of eighteen, Levi refused to marry Charlotte Knox Livingston. With just a few thousand dollars in his pocket, Levi filled a backpack with the basics and hitchhiked out west. He lived in Vail, Colorado, for about fifteen years, where he became a ski instructor in the winter and a fishing guide in the summer. He loved his simple life and didn’t miss the wealth and comfort of his big-city upbringing. His mother hired several private investigators over the years to find him. She even went as far as paying a man to kidnap Levi and bring him back home to New York City. Levi escaped from the back of the kidnapper’s van while the driver made a pit stop at a gas station just outside of Cheyenne, Wyoming. He ran north, away from the highway, until he found a large boulder field, where he bedded down between the massive rocks for warmth. He spent that cool autumn night there in a small cave, wearing only a light sweatshirt and jeans. In the morning, he hitchhiked back home to Vail. After his failed kidnapping, Levi decided to move to another town. He ended up in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, because that was where the truck that picked him up was going. Soon after arriving in Jackson, he got his real estate license, and he had made a good living ever since. Levi was embarrassed about his aristocrat status and had never told anyone his real identity, until now. He had legally changed his name soon after he moved to Vail. A few times his mother had sent letters pleading for him to come home. She thought he had become a ski bum and was throwing his life away by fucking lower-class women while playing in the snow. His mother tried everything, including blackmail and guilt, to convince her son to come home and marry Charlotte, his destined bride, as she referred to her in her handwritten letters. Levi explained that his mother had learned of his heated romance with me, and decided to reveal his engagement to Charlotte to the country. Levi quickly jumped on a plane and confronted his mother in person, but it was too late. She had already ed the local paper in Jackson Hole and told the editor that Levi was engaged to Charlotte, a prominent real estate mogul from New York

City. He had to give his mother some credit, because she never disclosed his real name and who he really was to the press. The editor took the story and printed it the next day. I think Maddy had read it and told me about it. Levi had been in New York City when the story was printed. I had thought he was there to be with his fiancée. Levi finished his unbelievable explanation, and I must say, I was speechless. He just watched me and waited for my response, looking relieved. “Wow, so what you’re saying is that you let me go because you were afraid of me finding out that you were a rich fucker, or as you said, America’s first aristocrat, whatever that even means? I am not sure I know what that means. Does it mean richer than God?” My tone was sarcastic, because I was shocked that this was the truth about why we broke up. “You should have tried harder to talk to me, Levi. You could have stalked me or just yelled out, ‘I am a rich asshole, and my mother arranged our marriage when I was ten.’ I would have listened, Levi.” I now just sounded sad as I thought about how it could have worked out. “I tried, Mer. I even wrote you letters explaining everything, but you didn’t even open them. I would get them back a few days later. Then, after a few months, you met Blake, and I knew it was over,” Levi said with regret. “Well, Charles Preston Astor, I forgive you, and to be honest, I think it’s pretty sexy to have fucked an aristocrat.” I then leaned over and softly kissed him. Levi went on to say that his mother and father had both ed away a few years ago. His three siblings had taken over the business. All three of his siblings were in marriages that had been arranged by his parents. His parents’ marriage had also been arranged. When his mother had died two years ago, Levi had received a check from his oldest brother, Nathan. Levi said there were so many zeros on the check that it looked fake. When he had examined it better with reading glasses, he realized that the check was for three hundred million dollars. My mouth dropped to the ground when I head Levi say the amount. “What did you do with it?” I wanted to know. “Nothing,” Levi declared.

“What do you mean you did nothing? Didn’t you cash it?” “No, I don’t think there’s a bank around here that could cash a check of that size,” Levi joked. “I know that, silly. I meant, did you keep it?” I questioned. “Of course,” he stated with a sheepish grin. “You’re impossible, Levi. What did you do with the money?” I was now getting annoyed with him. Levi enjoyed watching me squirm. “Nothing,” he simply said before standing up and walking over to the porch railing. “Goddammit, Levi. Why do you always do this? You mean to tell me that your mother left you three hundred million dollars two years ago and it’s still sitting in the bank?” I also got up and walked up to him as he stood at the porch railing. Levi looked down at me and said, “Yep.” He then looked away at the crimsonand-orange horizon. “Well, I am sure that bank loves you. I’m not sure why you’ve just left it there. You could have donated it to several charities, or, my God, you could have bought a country,” I said while peering up at his handsome face. “Meredith! Nothing in my life mattered when I lost you. That damn money was just a cruel reminder of what I had lost. When you married Blake, I knew my life would never be the same, and when he died, a part of me was happy. I am sorry, but the guy wasn’t well liked.” Levi’s confession had me crying again. I reached up and held his handsome face in my hands and told him how I felt. “Levi, Blake was right, I never stopped loving you, and I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you. I am sorry. I didn’t think of the money in that way. It’s just that … well, it’s a lot of money, Levi. A buttload of money,” I said with humor. We both laughed. Then we held each other and kissed. I then heard Emmy bark. We looked up and saw her running down the driveway. She scooted under the gate and bolted toward Levi and me on the porch.

“There’s my pretty girl!” I yelled as Emmy jumped up on us, her toothy grin a welcome sight. Not far behind were Darien and Grace, walking hand in hand, their love for each other evident.

That night Darien told me that he had a surprise for me. It was my birthday on July 4, and this was his early gift to me. Levi and I followed Darien and Grace over to the large cottonwood tree along the creek. I saw that Darien had made a huge river-stone fire pit for me. He knew that it was my favorite place on the ranch, and now I could enjoy it in the evenings as well. When it was dark, the four of us sat around a blazing fire and watched a galaxy of stars appear above us in the night sky. We laughed and talked while sipping on hot chocolate. At one point, we heard a pack of wolves howl into the cool night air. The sound of their wistful chant always made me feel untamed. The three dogs, Emmy, Doc, and now Stretch, were happily crewing on their rawhide bones behind us. Emmy was enjoying having two boys in her company. Just like her mommy, I thought to myself and smiled. The burning logs were popping, and small embers were flying in the air. Several times I had to jump out of the way as these red, hot sparks nearly landed on me. Darien laughed as I bolted from my lawn chair, trying to dodge them. “You have great reflexes, sis. Just like a cat,” he teased while he and Grace snuggled together to keep warm. I stuck my tongue out at him and went to get a few more logs from the pile. “Oh, I just saw a shooting star!” Grace yelled. She and Darien then kissed like teenagers. “Meredith, what do you want for your birthday?” Grace asked as I dropped three pieces of wood next to her. “I have everything I want right here,” I stated, and I meant it.

On Wednesday, two days before the Fourth of July and my thirty-seventh birthday, I got a call from a friend and local outfitter. They needed me and my

horses—Traveller, Coal, and maybe another—to help haul camping supplies up to Alaska Basin. The outfitters had four guests who were going to hike up the mountain. The pack horses and I would go on up ahead to set up the entire camp for them and wait for their arrival. It was a seven mile hike up the Teton Canyon to Alaska Basin, gaining two thousand six hundred and thirty feet. There were several small alpine lakes in the basin, which sat at an elevation of over nine thousand four hundred feet. Susan, from Teton Valley Outfitters, asked me if I could make the trip up and back for them on Friday and then return on Monday to break down the camp and haul it all back down. I had helped Susan and her husband, Ron, a few other times during their peak season, which was now. I told Susan I would be happy to make this haul for them. She asked if I could have my horses over to their ranch by 7:00 a.m. on Friday. I replied that it wasn’t a problem and that both I and my brother Darien would be there. She quickly thanked me, but before she hung up, Susan said that she’d heard from the local scuttlebutt that ABC news had been at my place. I informed her that it was true and said that she had to watch Sunday night on ABC. ABC had been airing a short promo several times a day for my interview with Diane Sawyer, which would air on Sunday night, July 6. I had watched the promo twice, and it was very strange to see myself on television. I didn’t even hear what I was saying. I was too focused on what I looked like. Susan said that she was sorry about everything and that she hoped that I was doing well. I hadn’t spoken to Susan since the previous fall, just before the plane crash. We said our goodbyes, and I hurried outside, where Darien was harrowing the arena. I waved my arm up in the air so he could see me. Darien saw me and stopped the tractor before jumping down. I briefed Darien about the job, and he was thrilled at the idea of making the trip up the mountain with the horses. He had never been up in the high country yet, and I was looking forward to showing him that the best part of living here was up there in those mountains. We would use Traveller and Coal as our pack horses, and Darien and I would ride Disney and River, I decided. I wanted to pony Geronimo, but there would be too many horses. Anyway, I preferred to take him when it wasn’t work related.

The night before, Darien and I loaded everything we needed for the next day’s climb into the truck. We then attached my four-horse gooseneck trailer to my pickup truck and placed all the horses’ tack inside the trailer storage area. The horses had been put up in their stalls and given plenty of alfalfa and electrolytes. The weather was calling for temperatures in the low eighties for the valley and the midseventies in the high country. With the high elevation, the summer sun was exceptionally intense, and the horses would be hauling heavy loads up steep terrain for hours. Thankfully, there was a creek that flowed along the trail, from which we and the horses could drink. Emmy would be making the trip with us, along with Stretch. Levi had to show a couple from California a ranch near the Wind River Range in Wyoming, so he’d asked if I could watch Stretch for the day.

I was up at five the next morning, and it was already light. When I got out to the barn, I saw Strider and Geronimo standing at the gate, wondering where their herd was. I gave each of them a sugar cube and kissed their warm noses before I brought our lunches over to the trailer. I gave the four horses a flake of alfalfa and fresh water. Darien then arrived, looking wide awake and ready to go. I looked at the way he was dressed and told him that he needed to change. I said he needed long sleeves, long pants, and of course, a hat. Darien was back in about five minutes, wearing a western-style button-down shirt that Grace had bought him and his goat-soiled jeans. I had washed them twice, but they were stained with goat poo and mud. He wasn’t wearing a hat, so I went into Blake’s workshop and found his worn, black cowboy hat. I gave it to Darien and told him it was now his. It fit him perfectly, and I thought he looked even more handsome. But then again, I thought that everyone looked better in a cowboy hat. Darien examined his reflection in the bathroom mirror. I saw him then walk out and smile. He tipped the brim of the hat and said, “Well, thank you, ma’am.” We both laughed and headed over to the trailer. We got the four horses loaded into the trailer, and soon after that, we were on the road over to Susan’s ranch, which was only a few miles away. As we pulled into Teton Valley Outfitters, three dogs came running up to my

truck, barking excessively and waging their tails. Emmy and Stretch were behind me and Darien in the back seat, and they were ing in on the bark fest. Darien and I both yelled at them to stop, as our ears felt bloodied from their loud barking. Susan and Ron were waiting for us near their barn. They had the heavy packs all lined up and ready to be placed on Coal’s and Traveller’s backs. We got the horses’ packs on and got them saddled in about a half hour. Darien and I then loaded all four of them back into the trailer. Susan gave me the names of their guests and the time they might be arriving. It was likely that we would them on our way up, since horses could make the climb a lot faster than people could. It was only a few miles up Ski Hill Road to Teton Canyon Road. I could see the excitement mounting on Darien’s face as we drove down the long, dusty, fivemile road to the trailhead. The view of Table Mountain and the Grand Tetons at this point was breathtaking, and Darien just said, “Wow … are we going up there?” I told him no, not that far, but just near the base of Buck Mountain, near the Teton National Park boundary. We pulled into the horse trailer staging area and found that it was being used as overflow parking from the other two parking lots. The area was for horse trailers only, and when I pulled into the parking lot, I yelled at the driver of a car and told him that they couldn’t park there. The tourists looked shocked by my angry outburst as I nearly scraped their small Toyota hybrid with my long trailer. I looked at the plate and wasn’t surprised that it read “California.” No offense to Californians, but every time there was a crazy driver or a driver who would hit the brakes and pull over in front of you, or … well, you know what I mean. What I am trying to say is that it was not easy living in a tourist community, because the tourists were unfamiliar with the area and that could be frustrating for the locals. We were the only horse trailer, and I knew why. This was the busiest weekend of the season, and no local horse people would want to battle the masses of tourists along the trail. Yet, we were here to do a job, and we would be encountering a lot of people on the trail today. I briefed Darien on what to say and how to handle those who wanted to pet the horses. We would be polite, but not too polite. And we had to to keep moving, I stressed. I was feeling a little tense because of my encounter with the Californians, and

when I exited the truck, I spotted them parking way over on the other side of the lot. I just shook my head and prayed that none of these assholes blocked my truck and trailer in when it was time for us to leave later that day. Darien and I unloaded the four horses and tightened their loads and saddles. Without hesitation, we mounted up and started our way down the road to where the trailhead was. That meant encountering many cars and people. We had to travel down the road for about a block and two parking lots and the campground to get to the trailhead. Like I said before, it was the busiest weekend of the summer, and it was a good thing my horses weren’t afraid of much. I was now thankful that I hadn’t brought Geronimo. Emmy and Stretch strolled just ahead of us as we slowly walked the horses down the side of the narrow road. Several cars drove up from behind us and didn’t even slow down when they saw us. I yelled a few choice words at them before we were engulfed in a cloud of fine dust. We ed several groups of day hikers as they were getting their packs out of their cars. The children were always thrilled to see the horses. They would scream and jump up and down, saying, “Mommy, look at the horses. Can we pet them?” Darien and I waved at the kids as we rode past them.

Darien wasn’t used to being on horseback, let alone used to being surrounded by cars, loud people, and strange dogs on horseback. I had put him on Disney, because River sometimes got nervous when strange dogs would run up to him. That was because he had been bitten by a German shepherd once when Blake and I were riding up this same trail to Sunset Lake. The last mile of the trail up to Sunset Lake was steep and narrow, and the dog owner and his dog hadn’t been yielding to us. So Blake and I had kept moving toward them as they were coming back down the switchback. I I could see the German shepherd’s body language, and it told me that he wasn’t going to let us . The owner didn’t have the dog on a leash, and he didn’t seem to notice that his dog was about to challenge us. Blake and I decided to stop on the trail. I then yelled to the middle-aged man to leash his dog. The man just ignored me and kept walking toward us. There was nowhere for the horses to go. We were on a narrow, steep trail, and

we couldn’t turn around. I looked over my shoulder and told Blake that the dog was going to attack us. I could see the color drain from Blake’s face. When I turned back around, the dog was running at River and me with his hackles up and his teeth showing. I could tell River sensed the dog’s aggression, because he started to prance and then back up. I could feel his neck and back muscles tense up. I tried to stay calm by talking softy to River, while keeping my eye on the dog. The owner was either high on drugs, stupid, or both, because he didn’t do or say anything. In desperation, I started yelling at the dog in a voice that was loud, aggressive, and, I must say, quite manly. Blake was also yelling from behind me on Traveller. The dog stopped just as he got to River and then suddenly lunged at River’s front, right leg and bit down a few times in a rapid motion. It all happened so fast. River reared high in the air when he felt the dog bite down. Thankfully, when the dog saw River rear up, he cowered and ran back to his owner, who was just standing there. I was prepared when River reared, because I had asked him to rear. I knew the dog would back off when River reared up. I screamed a mouthful of choice swear words at this asshole while I pulled my pistol out of its holster. When he saw my gun, the man grabbed his dog by the collar and stepped up off the trail to let us get by. I told him as we ed by that the law gave me the right to shoot his dog. He just stood there and avoided my vexed stair and violent words. I was shaking I was so mad. He was lucky that I didn’t shoot his dog that day. The only reason I didn’t was that Blake had talked me out of it. I don’t think that I have ever been that upset. When Blake and I got to the top of the mountain, we had to turn around and head back down the canyon. That meant ing the man and his dog again. However, by the time we caught up to them, they were in the basin, over by a small pond. When we got back to the trailer, seven miles later, we hauled the horses right to Dr. Bitters’s clinic in Driggs. The vet flushed out the superficial bite wounds on River’s front leg and bandaged them. He also prescribed two rounds of antibiotics, just to be safe. Dr. Bitters told me that if it were him, he would have shot the owner and the dog. He was kidding, of course, but it felt good just to hear him say it. River was ultimately fine, but his fear of dogs still haunted him to this day, over five years later. Blake and I were between dogs in our life back then. We’d had to put down our beloved fifteen-year-old chocolate Lab, Mocha, a few weeks

before this happened. We brought Emmy home from the breeders a month after we put Mocha down.

Still, dogs weren’t what Darien and I had to keep our eyes open for. No, it was grizzly bears. The first two and a half miles of the trail were heavily traveled by tourists, but not many hikers had the endurance to make it to Alaska Basin up in the higher country. It was in that part of the forest where we would likely see a grizzly or black bear. Fortunately, most of the time we only saw moose. Most bears I’ve seen will run when you encounter them on horseback along the trail, but I always carried bear spray and a forty-five pistol every time I was in the back country, whether I was on foot or horseback.

We started along the trail, where it was pretty flat, and I peered over my shoulder at Darien. He looked like a young John Wayne up there on his paint horse, ponying Coal. He gave me a big grin and said, “This is so awesome.” We hit the trail at about eight thirty, so I figured we would make it to Alaska Basin in about two and a half hours—longer if we stopped to water the horses. On the first two miles of the trail, we encountered a lot of day hikers, mostly families and couples enjoying the beautiful, snow-covered mountain canyons on both sides of the valley trail. Several waterfalls spilled over the tops of these canyons, some falling over a thousand feet or more into Teton Creek. As we meandered along the trail out of the piney forest, we could hear the roar of these waterfalls, as the sound echoed off the towering canyon walls on both sides of us. We were met by leafy groves of aspen trees and open meadows that were painted with wild flowers. This region would get an average of five hundred inches of snow a year, and all that melted snow would cascade down to the mountain streams and help feed Teton Valley’s crops and cattle ranches. I spotted evidence of last winter’s avalanches on the slopes above us, where groves of aspen and pine trees had been flattened and twisted in a surge of destruction. After about five miles, we came to a creek crossing, and I decided to stop and let the horses drink. The hot sun was making it feel a lot warmer than it was. I could see Coal sweating a lot under the load on his back. He was black, so he would soak up the sun a lot more than Traveller, who was all white. Emmy

and Stretch were also black, and they both ran down to the creek and laid down in the cold water. Their long, red tongues were hanging out as they welcomed the relief from the hot sun. Darien and I dismounted our horses and let them rest and drink. The towering Douglas fir trees around us helped shade us from the intense sun as we all took five there along the south fork of Teton Creek. In less than an hour, we were making our final assent up to Alaska Basin. The last push up the mountain was ever so steep and narrow, and we carefully scaled the switchbacks. We leveled off once we were in the basin, and then it was just about a half mile over to the lake. The basin was in bloom with wild flowers, and a rainbow of colors blanketed the ground. A meandering stream slithered its way through the valley, carving a watery path through the flowers and lush grasses. Whitebark pine trees grew near both the basin edge and the lakes, along the smooth, granite slabs. The steep mountain cliffs were still covered with snow, and they conjured up a beautiful picture of this alpine wonder. Buck Mountain welcomed us to the east, and Static Peak towered in the distance to the south. Darien was looking around with his mouth hanging open. I think he was awestruck by the splendor of this land. We were greeted by a few up-and-over hikers—hikers that would hike up one side of the mountain, camp near the Teton Crest Trail, and then hike to the other side, which was Grand Teton National Park. We arrived at the first small lake and found a nice spot far enough away from the water. We tied the horses to a row of whitebark pines and removed their packs and saddles. I then realized that I didn’t seeing our guests along the trail. This had me worried, because if they hadn’t set out by the time we had, we would be waiting a long time for them to make the long, difficult hike up here. For those who weren’t used to hiking in high elevation, the seven-mile hike can prove challenging. I asked Darien if he may have seen anyone he thought might be our campers. He said that he hadn’t. I tried to if we ed a group of four hikers, but I couldn’t recall anyone. I tried my cell phone and got a hold of Susan. She said that the group had arrived at the trail a little after 8:00 a.m. She added that they were from California and were afraid of horses, so that was why they’d decided to hike up on their own. “Great,” I said before hanging up the phone. I told Darien what Susan had told me, and he started laughing. I just shook my

head and swore several times. What were the chances that they were the only California folks hiking that day? I was now praying hard that the man I’d screamed at wasn’t our guest. Darien was getting too much amusement out of it, so I decided to pay him back by making him put up the two heavy, canvas tents by himself. “I’ve never put one of these things up before!” He wailed as I plopped the two tents on the ground in front of him. I figured that we had some time to kill, so we took the four extremely sweaty horses over to the lake. Emmy and Stretch followed us, and they eagerly dashed into the small lake and swam around in circles, chasing each other. I told Darien to strip down to his boxers. He looked over at me like I was crazy, not because he was modest but because this alpine lake was as cold as melted snow. “I am not getting in there,” he stated, holding Disney and Coal by their lead ropes. I dropped Traveller’s and River’s lead ropes, took off my boots, and then stripped down to just my bra and panties. I grabbed River’s lead rope and swung my nearly naked body up on his bare back. I had Traveller’s rope in my other hand. I kicked River hard and told him to walk on. “You’re crazy!” Darien yelled as I saw him take off his boots, then his shirt, and finally his jeans. “Why do I always listen to you? You’re my little sister.” He tried to mount Disney. He had an advantage, being over six foot tall. He hoisted himself up on Disney’s back, got a hold of Coal’s lead rope, and followed me and the horses into the lake. Once the horses felt the freezing-cold water on their bellies, I could feel them tense up. I gave River a harder kick and kissed with my lips. I then felt the cold water on my thighs, and I too grimaced. I looked over at Darien, who was only in water about a foot deep. Disney knew he could get out of this one with Darien on his back. I laughed and told him to kick him and say walk on. Darien did what I said, and Disney walked right into the lake. He didn’t stop until Darien was up to his neck and swimming behind Disney while holding onto his mane. The water was so cold that Darien wasn’t able to speak. All I could see were his eyes bulging out of his head and his mouth open wide in shock. I think he was afraid to cry out because he thought that it might spook the horses. Disney swam

around with Darien hanging on and Coal trailing behind Darien. I was laughing so hard that I didn’t even notice that River was about to plunge into water where his hooves couldn’t touch the ground, maybe to catch Disney. My breath was instantly taken away when my body became submerged in the icy water like Darien’s. I felt Traveller’s rope slip out of my hand. I turned around to see him heading back to shore. By this time, I was holding on to River’s black mane, my body floating on the surface. I could feel myself going numb, and it wasn’t long before we had crossed the small lake. Disney trudged his way out of the lake, with Darien clinging to his mane while shimmying himself back up on his back. He had dropped Coal’s rope, but Coal wasn’t going anywhere. He just stood in the lake at about knee deep and pawed at the water. He seemed to think the water temperature was just right. River finally touched bottom, and I pulled myself up and onto his back as he strolled to shore. I grabbed Coal’s lead rope, and we all got on the trail and walked back to where our clothes were by the shore. Emmy and Stretch stayed behind and frolicked in the water, fighting over a stick. Traveller was standing near our clothes, grazing on the high alpine grass. Darien’s lips looked blue, and he was shivering as he rode Disney with just a halter and lead rope. “Now, wasn’t that refreshing, Darien?” I goaded as I slid off of River and grabbed my clothes. I pulled my jeans on over my wet undies, slipped on my boots, and quickly put my shirt on over my wet bra. “I hate you. The only reason I did that was because those girls were watching us and I didn’t want to look like a pussy,” Darien whispered before he slid off of Disney and put on his clothes. “Well, you look like a pussy, wearing those old, ratty boxers. How old are they? My God, Darien, do I still have to tell Mom when you need new underwear?” I teased. Because Darien was so shy growing up, I would speak for him a lot, and one time, when we were very young, I did tell our mom that he needed new underwear. Darien just laughed and blushed a little. We walked the horses over to the pine trees and tied them up. My hair was wet

up to my chin, and I tried to squeeze the water out before I put my cowboy hat back on. The sun felt good on our goose bump–riddled bodies as we finished setting up camp. Several hikers wearing heavy packs crossed our path, and we kept an eye out for our guests. When we were done setting up, we sat next to a little waterfall, our butts resting on a large rock above the stream. We had a good view of the trail from there, and it was a perfect picnic spot for us to eat our packed lunch. I told myself to to come back up there with Levi and camp out. Stretch and Emmy were at our feet, begging for scraps. Darien got up and pulled two rawhide bones out of his saddle bags and threw them to the pesky mutts. “I could really use a cold beer right now,” I itted. “Me too,” Darien joked. We smiled at each other, and it was obvious that the both of us were very happy with our lives right now. We both had someone in our lives we loved, and it meant everything. We had each other as well, and we were also thankful for that. “You and Grace do the dirty yet?” I asked out of the blue. Darien gave me a look that was comical and also quite disturbing. “You look like a goof when you make that face.” I took a bite of my sandwich. “I was just curious. Don’t be such a dick.” “Okay, then, have you and Levi done the nasty yet?” he ribbed before throwing his crumpled wrapper at me. “Hey, that’s a five-hundred-dollar fine, cowboy,” I shouted. I then spotted four hikers who looked like our guests rounding the corner and walking our way, and we both saw that it was the group I had yelled at in the horse trailer parking lot four hours ago. “This beautiful day is about to get fucked.” The two men and two women looked drained and were no doubt wishing that they hadn’t been afraid of horses. They spotted us resting on the rocks, enjoying our delicious lunch in the beautiful sunshine. Maybe they wouldn’t me, I hoped, for high altitude did tend to mess with the brain. They were flatlanders from California. All they would want to do was out after their grueling hike. I was going through several scenarios in my head as I watched them get closer.

Surely they wouldn’t have the energy to confront me. Anyway, I was the person who had set up their comfortable camp for them so they could enjoy their “glamping” experience in this breathtaking mountain basin. I saw Darien snickering as he spotted the tension building on my face. I stood, waved my arm over my head, and yelled, “Are you the Donner party?” I then heard Darien burst into laughter. “What?” I asked him quietly before I heard one of the women say yes. She said something else, but I was too distracted by Darien’s snickering. “Donner party? You know the joke … the Pioneers in the 1800s who were traveling from the east to get free land in California. They were trapped in the Sierra Nevada Mountains for months during the winter and had to cannibalize each other to survive. Comedians always joke about the Donner party.” “Oh, yeah.” I started to laugh, ing the joke. “They are from California. Maybe they’re related?” Darien started to laugh even more. I saw the weary four make their way over to the camp. I decided that I wouldn’t say anything about our uncomfortable encounter in the parking lot. Darien and I walked over to the camp to welcome them. I had folding chairs set up near the two tents. The two women plopped down in the chairs and sighed. Their faces were bright red, and sweat had soaked their hair and clothes. Their fleshy arms were beet red with sunburn. The two men also looked quite fatigued as they smiled at Darien and me. They dropped their small packs next to their wives. The group looked to be in their late thirties, and I would say that they were all a little overweight. So far, the man I had yelled at didn’t seem to me, which I thought was odd. Maybe he was trying to be polite and wanted to avoid another confrontation. Wise man, I thought myself. He extended his right hand first to me and then to Darien. “John Donner,” he announced, sounding out of breath. We shook everyone else’s hands, and then I showed them around their campsite. It was taking incredible effort for Darien and me to contain our laughter. I had to think of something sad to stop the burning in my throat; there was pure guffawing fighting to get out. The two women didn’t move from their chairs as the guys listened to my instructions. I told them that all their food and garbage

had to be hung from a tree, because they were in bear country. We walked over to the pine trees near the horses, where I had hung all their food up in the tree for them. After that, I showed them the small two-burner gas stove they would use for cooking and explained that there were no camp fires allowed in the national forest. There were also two lanterns, for when nature called during the night. This time of year it didn’t get dark until about ten thirty, but after the day these hikers had had, they would be asleep way before dark, I predicted. I handed a small shovel over to one of the men. They both looked at it and then looked back at me confused. I told them it was for when they went number two. I went on to explain that it was important to go at least one hundred yards away from camp and any water source. “Leave no trace behind,” I said with a smile. The men laughed and took the shovel from me, blushing a little. Darien and I said goodbye, and we told them that we would be back late in the morning on Monday to take the camp down. I reminded them not to leave the camp until we had arrived. The men nodded and said no problem. Darien had to walk away, because he was having a hard time keeping his composure. He was giggling uncontrollably as he hurried over to the horses. When I got over to him, I was also laughing. “Let’s pray that no one has been eaten when we arrive on Monday,” Darien joked as he saddled Disney.

Our descent down the mountain went smoothly. We only ed a few hikers on the heavily traveled part of the trail. Coal and Traveller didn’t have loads on their backs, so we made good time. The horse trailer parking lot only had a few other cars parked in it, so I was happy to find that I wasn’t boxed in. I quickly called Susan and told her that her guests had arrived and were fine. She thanked me, and said that they would be able to tear down the camp on Monday. She went on to say that she had seen the ABC 20/20 promo about my interview. She sounded quiet impressed and stated that she was excited to watch Sunday night.

Susan then wished me a happy Fourth of July and hung up. We made it back home by four that afternoon. Emmy and Stretch were exhausted, and they both plopped down in the yard. I had Darien unload and turn the four horses out with Geronimo and Strider while I brought the two dogs inside to eat. I was also tired, for it had been a long day in the saddle. When I got inside, Emmy and Stretch ran into the kitchen. Something smelled good. I slowly made my way into the kitchen, my legs feeling a little weary. When I got there, I saw Levi standing by the stove with pots simmering and steaming. “Happy birthday!” he shouted. Stretch and Emmy sat at his feet, peering up at him with their tails wagging back and forth on the wood floor. His handsome face made me smile, and I could feel my heart ache a little anticipating his touch. “Thank you,” I replied, walking up to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and French-kissed him for a long time—too long, evidently, because Emmy let out a pitiful whine and jumped up on me. “Okay, I know you two are hungry,” I said to them. I pulled away from Levi and went to the pantry where the dog food was. I first grabbed a mixing bowl out of the lower cabinet for Stretch to eat out of. “It smells like Italian. I didn’t know you were a chef,” I called from inside the pantry. “I am making Chicken Parmesan with Linguine,” Levi answered. “Darien said it was your favorite.” “Well, he lied,” I teased deadpan. “Oh, shit. Well …” Levi looked panicked as he stirred the sauce. “I’m just kidding. I love it … and I love you.” I walked up to Levi and hugged him again. He turned around and kissed me. “Dinner should be ready in about an hour. Can I get you a Coke? I invited Grace and Darien to your birthday dinner. Grace said she should be here soon,” Levi said as he ran one hand through my hair and caressed my sore ass with the other.

“Great, but can I have a glass of wine instead? I know you’re an alcoholic and all, but I could use a drink after today.” I made a face I knew he couldn’t say no to. “You don’t need it. I am telling you, your life would be a lot better without it,” Levi preached while holding me. “Okay, okay. I will try, but I don’t like Coke. I’ll have some iced tea. It’s a hot day out there.” I pulled away and went to get the pitcher out of the refrigerator. “I have a birthday surprise for you,” Levi said as I poured myself a glass of tea. “It’s not a surprise if I’ve seen it before,” I joked, sipping my tea with a devilish grin on my face. Levi just grinned, and then I saw his face flush red.

After dinner, Grace and Darien excused themselves from the table, and Darien promptly noted that he would be spending the night at Grace’s place. “Okay. Thank you for telling me, I think,” I remarked, and we all laughed. “Happy birthday, sis. I felt like it was my birthday today. Thank you,” Darien said. Then he bent over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I winked at him and smiled after touching his face with my hand. I then whispered, “ to use protection.” Darien snickered, and then he and Grace left, leaving Levi and I alone for the evening.

Levi had me close my eyes while he escorted me toward the barn. I could tell that we had ed the barn, when I peeked and saw that we walking along the pasture fence. “Okay, you can open them now,” Levi said with his arm in mine. I opened my eyes, and there next to the towering cottonwood tree was a full-size,

authentic Indian tepee. “Oh my God, Levi. I’ve always wanted a tepee, and you put it in my favorite spot!” I said while jumping up and down. Emmy and Stretch had already run over to the creek and were cooling off in the flowing water. It was seven thirty in the evening, but it was still nearly eighty degrees as the sun beat down on us. The tepee was made of heavy canvas, and it had been carefully hand painted by a local Native American artist. “Let me show you inside,” Levi said as he escorted me inside the tepee opening. Inside he had a queen-size mattress on a wooden platform. There were throws and colorful pillows scattered on the bed. He had lit a dozen or so candles, and the warm candle light danced and fluttered on the pale tepee walls. Levi had put a large area rug over the grass to make it feel cozy and romantic. “It’s just perfect, Levi. It’s everything I dreamed it would be. If this is your way of getting me to have sex with you, then it worked, because I don’t think I’ve ever wanted you more than I do right now,” I confessed. I turned around and faced him and then stood on my tiptoes to reach his mouth and touch his warms lips to mine. I could feel my body flush hot with lust as his tender touch heated my flesh. Slowly, Levi undressed me, taking his time removing my shirt one button at a time. I just stood there looking up at him, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my head. After removing my shirt, he moved on to my jeans, pulling down the button fly in one rapid movement. By this time my pussy was aching and wet in anticipation. My breath was quickening, and my skin was wet as Levi slid my jeans down to my knees. He then sat down on the bed and had me balance myself on his shoulders while he removed my jeans one leg at a time. With my jeans off, he pulled me to him and unlatched my bra with his fingers. He took the bra and tossed it on the floor. I peered into his bright blue eyes and witnessed his sixteen years of pent-up desire waiting to be unleashed. Levi lovingly caressed my small breasts before running his large hands down my waist and hips. He hooked his thumbs along the waistband of my undies and slid them down to my ankles. My entire body was trembling as my gaze focused on his hungry eyes. I felt intoxicated and light-headed, because I was getting so aroused by his erotic foreplay.

Levi then bent down, and with his hot, soft tongue, he fondled my clit. I grabbed his head to steady myself as a rush of pleasure overwhelmed me. It had been almost a year since a man had touched me, but Levi was the only man who had ever pleased me this way. Within seconds, I felt myself climax. My entire body convulsed and spasmed as my endorphins electrified my inner core. My bliss found its way to my throat, and I screamed out. Levi then pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. He quickly stood so I could pull them off. When I slid off his boxers, his enormous dick I so fondly ed was winking at me. It appeared larger then I recalled, and my fear soon resurfaced with our abrupt face-to-face reunion. I had never given Levi a blow job, because there was no way it would fit in my small mouth. It would be like me trying to put a Coke can in my mouth. Anyway, Levi tenderly picked me up, and I wrapped my short legs around his waist. We kissed like frantic teenagers. I could tell that he was ready to explode, so I told him to lie down on the bed. When he did, I climbed on top of him and searched out his mouth. He then sat up and literally picked me up and set me down on his hard cock. I was so wet that it slid inside me with just a little effort. The second he was inside me, I could feel his mass penetrate deep, and my breath escaped me. My pleasure was instant and imioned. I put my arms on his shoulders and rode him like a white stallion, thrusting and grinding my hips. Levi whispered in my ear, “Oh my God, you’re so tight.” I almost laughed, because I was sure every woman felt tight to him. Good lord. Levi then let out a loud groan, and I pushed him deeper inside me. He rolled me over on my back and lovingly kissed my mouth. Our bodies were soaked with desire as he entered me again. I didn’t want this night to end, I told him as we lay together inside my tepee. The candles were burning down, and we could see that the sun was setting, because golden rays were streaming in through the round opening of the teepee and spilling upon our naked bodies. Levi said he had one more surprise for me, and he got out of bed and quickly got dressed. My naked body suddenly felt chilled with the loss of the warm sun and Levi. I promptly got dressed and watched Levi hurry out of the tepee. I then blew out all the candles and followed him outside. He had wood piled and ready for a fire. He had two chairs set up around the fire pit that Darien had made for me. The sun had set, and the western skyline was a

deep crimson. I looked straight overhead and gazed at the pale-blue sky, where a flock of Canadian geese flew over us. It was the Fourth of July, and as darkness came, we could hear fireworks going off around us. Levi started a roaring fire, and the heat from it helped warm me up. Emmy and Stretch, who were wandering around the ranch, spotted us and came running over with their tails wagging. I kissed Emmy on her head, which was still wet from the creek. “I’ll be right back,” Levi said, and he walked over to his pickup truck near the barn. He brought back a big box full of fireworks. “Yay! I love fireworks!” I said as Levi dropped the box on the ground, adding with humor, “Just don’t burn anything down!” Levi bent over and kissed me hard. “I’ll try not to,” he responded with devotion. Levi waited until the stars were all visible before he lit off our load of fireworks. He moved us away from the fire and the cottonwood tree. He had put the blanket and pillows from the bed on the ground for me to lie on. Emmy and Stretch curled up next to me on the blanket. I petted them both and got ready for the light show. I could hear and see the fireworks from in town over to the southwest. Levi fired off the first set of fireworks. I first heard three thumping sounds and then saw bright trails of light soaring into the dark sky before they exploded right above us in colors of red, white, and blue. The next one exploded, filling up the night sky. It looked like a huge weeping willow as it draped down to the ground with a hissing sound. The firework show lasted for about fifteen minutes, and I was delighted. I told Levi it was the best birthday I’d ever had and kissed him while we warmed up by the fire.

CHAPTER 10

S UNDAY MORNING, I LOOKED AT my phone and noticed that I had received several calls from family and friends asking about the interview. I listened to the two messages that had been left, one from my sister Sandy and one from my cousin Maddy. Maddy was in and would be there for another week. She was horse hunting for clients and for me. She said her father, my uncle, had called and told her about my interview with Diane Sawyer. She sounded excited and told her father to tape it for her. Maddy said she would try to call me on Monday night. She also said that she had found me a schoolmaster jumper that would be perfect for my novice jumping students. Sandy’s message, meanwhile, expressed her shock and surprise upon seeing the promo for my 20/20 interview. The last call I had received was from Jennifer, but she hadn’t left a message. I called the number she had called me from and waited for her to answer. “Hello?” “Jennifer, it’s Meredith,” I said, still feeling tired. “Oh, hey, sorry. I just got out of the shower. I went for a long run this morning. I’m getting a late start on this Sunday,” Jennifer explained, and I could hear her moving around. “I wanted to let you know that I FedExed you a copy of tonight’s program. You should have gotten it yesterday.” “Oh, yeah. I think Darien put in the den.” I ran from my bedroom and into the den. “Here it is,” I told her as I sat down in the office chair. “Great. Are you going to watch tonight?” Jennifer asked. “You know, I don’t think so. I was a little weirded out when I saw the promo piece,” I confessed while wiping my eyes. “Well, you have it if you want to watch it. It’s better to watch it that way. No commercials,” Jennifer said, and then she laughed. “Hey, I wanted to update you

on our investigation. Diane flew to Columbia, South Carolina, last night, and today she’s interviewing the retired general who was in charge of the raid in Afghanistan. We sent him a copy of the interview on Saturday so he could see what we have unveiled. Our team tracked him down a few days ago, and he agreed to talk with Diane. Isn’t that great?” She sounded ecstatic. “Wow, that’s great news. When will it air? I really want to hear what he has to say,” I declared. “The plan is to air his interview Monday night during the early-evening news broadcast. We don’t want to wait with this; we want to keep the facts fresh in the American people’s minds. It’s just a matter of time now, Meredith, before we get some answers,” Jennifer explained. “Hey, I’m sorry, but I have to run. I’m meeting my parents for brunch.” “No problem. I’ll let you go.” I hung up and dropped my phone on the desk and then ran back to bed, where Levi was still asleep. I jumped and landed on the bed with a thump, which woke him up. He wasn’t mad. He just rolled over and smiled at me. His sexy grin made me want him again, but the area between my legs was—how can I say this—raw. My muffin had been out of commission for ten months, and now it was screaming, “Ouch!” Stretch and Emmy were both sleeping together on the big bed that we had bought for them the day before. Emmy wasn’t happy about Levi taking her place in my bed. But she had her own boy now, I told her as she looked up at me with her sad, brown eyes. I asked Levi if he wanted to watch the interview, and he quickly said no before kissing me. At first I was hurt, but I think he was tired of the attention Blake was still getting after almost a year. I told him that I didn’t want to watch it either, but I was lying. I did tell him what Jennifer told me about Diane interviewing the asshole general who was in charge the night of the raid. Levi just said, “Good,” and then he got out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower. I could tell that Levi was done talking about Blake. I told myself that I wouldn’t talk anymore about Blake or the interview today. If I wanted to talk about it, I would have to speak with Grace or Darien, not my boyfriend.

Levi and I drove over to his place so I could see where he lived. Levi had Emmy

and Stretch ride in the back of the pickup. I turned around and saw their noses smelling the air and their ears flapping in the breeze as we drove down the dirt road. I had only seen the old Miller Ranch once, back when Blake and I had finished building our ranch. The family had been having an auction after their grandfather, Bud Miller, ed away the month before he turned eighty-five. Bud’s seven grandchildren didn’t want the ranch, mainly because all of them resided out of state, living the big city life. They thought that Teton Valley was in the boondocks, and they didn’t want any part of it. The oldest grandson, Roger, was the trustee of the will, and that day, he sold everything. The house, barn, and land were sold to a Jackson Hole investor. Levi bought it from that investor three years ago. Back then, the auction was a big deal in the valley, and people came from all over to buy a piece of history. Blake and I had purchased their tractor and two western saddles, among other various tack and tools. Levi said that it had taken him two years to remodel the entire farmhouse and barn. He had just finished the landscaping the week before. It was a smaller ranch, with only fifteen acres, but the view it had of the four peaks of the Tetons and Table Mountain couldn’t get any better. He was a mile or so closer than I was, and the foothills started at the end of his property line. We drove down the private drive that had a buck-and-rail fence and an automatic steel gate. He’d kept the old Miller Ranch sign that hung across two huge pine posts on either side. As we drove up, I could see the house, which had a beautiful wrap-around pouch that was painted white. The two-story house was also painted white and had black shutters and two dormer windows on the second story. The house reminded me of the Walton’s home from the television show from back in the seventies. It was welcoming and beautiful, with the snowcovered mountains towering up from behind the house. Just to the right of the house was the totally restored red barn. Levi had used reclaimed wood to shore up the old rotten beams in the barn. He wanted to keep the barn’s historic look and feel by keeping the same red paint and shake roof. He added a two-foot-high natural-stone facade around the barn and rusted steel awnings above the second-story windows. There was a circular drive that had been made of handlaid cobblestone. The landscaping in front of the house included massive boulders that were complemented by beautiful planting beds with colorful annuals and flowering shrubs. Lilac trees anchored both ends of the

front porch, balancing out the design. There were small groves of aspen trees around the house and behind the barn, where a small stream ran down from the mountains. A row of towering cottonwood trees lined the creek, casting long shadows across the yard. The barn had a few small corrals and runs. There was also a large round pen behind the barn near the aspen trees. Behind the house was the horse pasture, where three content horses were grazing. The home looked like it belonged on a magazine cover, I thought to myself as Levi showed me around. Stretch and Emmy ran around the yard holding a big stick in their mouths while Levi introduced me to his three horses, Apache, Prince, and Nemo. They were all geldings, and they were all paints. It was funny, because Nemo really did have the same markings as those of a clown fish. Prince was my favorite; he was a golden, palomino paint with a pure-white mane and tail. Levi stated that Prince was only four and needed a lot of my training. I smiled and told him that I would be happy to take a look at him. Apache was a tricolor paint, meaning that he had three colors: white, sorrel, and black. He was the horse Levi had been riding that day when we “ran into” him on the trail ride with Jennifer. I knew Darien had arranged that. The inside of the house was even grander. I was speechless when I saw all the architectural detail and fine craftsmanship throughout the two-story house. The design had a simple, French-country flair with creams and whites and a few punches of color from pillows and accent pieces. Each room had its own color palette or theme. The front room, or parlor, had accents of French blue and touches of Tuscan yellow. The kitchen had the most color, with cream, painted cabinets and blood-red, stuccoed walls, making the room feel warm and cozy. Stained wood beams crossed the ceiling, while cream plaster filled in the spaces between them. The centerpiece of the kitchen was the red, reclaimed-brick fireplace, which was tall and wide. It was on the other side of the kitchen next to the six-foot-long, reclaimed-wood kitchen table and chairs. There was a rack set into the brick so Levi could cook over the fire. All the appliances were stainless steel and top of the line, including an eight-burner stove, two ovens, and a warming drawer. The large farm sink had been reclaimed from an eighteenth-century estate in Provence, .

The great room, just off the kitchen, had a twelve-foot-high coffered ceiling and a dry-stacked stone fireplace. The walls and ceiling were all painted a warm cream color, and there were punches of reds and oranges thrown in with pillows, rugs, and throws. The sofa and two chairs were also a cream color, all custom made. Chunky, antique frames with beautiful oil paintings of the French countryside hung behind the sofa and on each side of the fireplace. Levi had added on to the south side of the house, where the master suite and bath were. It was just off the kitchen, down a short hallway. The first thing I saw was the wall of windows to the east that had a view of the mountains and the horse pasture. It was a lot like my ranch view, except that his house was closer and there were a lot of aspen trees. Across from the windows, there was a massive, hand-painted, cream-colored four-poster bed and matching night stands. The bed coverlet had a teal, cream, and cranberry floral color palette. The floors were a light-stained, hand-scraped hickory. It was so beautiful the way the morning sun steamed in through the large sliding-glass doors and the windows along the wall. The room felt warm and inviting, and I just wanted to curl up in bed with Levi and enjoy the view. The master bath was huge, with a his-and-hers walk-in closets. The free-standing tub was also brought over from Provence, along with the antique fixtures and faucets. The two-person steam shower had several shower heads and a long bench for sitting. The bathroom had large, cream-colored subway tiles that were accented with small, teal, glass mosaic tiles. There were two sinks that were made of hammered copper and a cream-and-black marble counter top. We ended our tour by going out the sliding-glass doors to the patio, where the mountains welcomed us with their majestic presence. The three horses stood by the fence and watched us, while we sat on the deck chairs, sipping our lemonade. “I could live here,” I stated, looking over at Levi. I couldn’t believe that I had said that, because I loved my home and my ranch more than anything. Yet this place was so my style, and it didn’t remind me of Blake. “But there isn’t enough land here for ten horses.” “I could buy the thirty acres on the north side of me. I think I could get Marty to sell. He offered to sell it to me three years ago,” Levi replied. “That would be perfect, Levi! Now you’ve got me excited.” I jumped up from

my chair and sat in his lap. I tenderly kissed his mouth, while running my hand through his short, white hair. “I don’t have an arena, but we could build one before winter,” Levi added. “But if you sold your place, I would tell you to keep some of your land. Most buyers wouldn’t want sixty acres, and we could use that land to grow our own alfalfa.” I was so excited about the idea of living here with Levi. It would be sad to leave my ranch, but change was good. And this place was like a dream. I always loved the French-country style, and this place had everything I wanted. “But wait, how do you feel about living in Wyoming? You said to me not long ago that you felt we were too snooty for your liking?” Levi teased. “Oh shit, that’s right. I knew there had to be a down side to all of this. Well, you could say that I would bring some humble esteem to your land, Lord Astor,” I mocked. Then I kissed him hard on the lips. I had an idea about my ranch. Maddy had told me a few months ago that she and John were thinking about selling their place in Wilson. She said their property taxes and land values had sky rocketed over the past few years, and they had talked about moving to Idaho, closer to me. Maddy had also said that John wanted to open a second orthodontist office in Teton Valley, Idaho. My ranch would be perfect for them and their two boys, Nathan, now seven, and Brice, who had just turned ten. Maddy had mentioned that she wanted to quit her job at the Four Seasons. She and I had talked about starting a lesson program together. We would focus on teaching young students jumping, with a specialization in the hunter classes. I also wanted to expand my horse training business. I was now excited to talk with Maddy and get her ideas about buying my ranch and our possible new business venture.

The next evening, Levi and Darien left for their AA meeting at the church. Grace and I used this time alone to bring out our stash of booze and get down to some partying. Well, at our age, our idea of partying was sitting around a bonfire while getting a good buzz on. I hadn’t had a stiff margarita for a long time, and it was going down easy and fast. Grace had made a big pitcher of margaritas and cut

lime wedges and salt for our glasses. The night was cool, and we sat and drank around the warm fire. We had a good four hours before the guys would be home. Levi had said that after the meeting, he and Darien were going to drive to Felt and check on a fellow AA member who hadn’t shown up for the past three weeks now. His phone had been disconnected, and the sheriff said he couldn’t get Darryl to answer the door when he had gone out there a few days ago. “Is it bad that we’re here drinking margaritas while our alcoholic boyfriends are at an AA meeting?” I asked Grace before I took a gulp of my drink and licked the salt off the rim. “Not at all. We don’t have a problem, so I see no reason why we can’t enjoy ourselves,” Grace responded, her words slurred from consuming three margaritas. We both then started to laugh hard until tears were welling up in our eyes. I even heard Grace snort a few times as she giggled. Her snort made us both howl even more with laughter. “Oh shit, I forgot about the news. The interview with that general asshole.” I was also slurring my words. As I tried to get up from my folding chair, I nearly fell, and Grace again broke into a good belly laugh at my expense. “We can watch it on the internet. But it’s only nine; let’s wait until ten. The guys will be home around then.” “Levi doesn’t want to see it. He’s done with Blake and this entire … what would you call it?” My mind drew a blank, and it was the tequila that was making my brain dumb. Grace and I started giggling again while we watched the flames from the fire dance in front of us. At ten, we doused the fire with water from the creek and hobbled our way in the dark over to the house. Grace was holding on to me tightly as we scaled the porch stairs. I opened the screen door, and we both tripped over the threshold and burst into laughter. The screen door then slammed behind us, making the both of us jump and scream. I was now worried, because we were both very drunk, and our sober, alcoholic

boyfriends were on their way home. I suddenly felt panicked as I helped Grace sit down on the couch in the great room. “Grace, I need you to Google how to get the smell of alcohol off your breath! Shit, Levi is going to be pissed. Grace. Grace!” She had fallen over on the couch and lay motionless. “I here … where the fire, Mer? Settle down,” she slurred. I went to the den where my phone was and searched Google. “Damn it, that wasn’t any help. I guess there isn’t anything that covers up the smell of booze.” I looked at my phone and saw there was a message from Jennifer. I went to the message on my phone and walked into the great room, where Grace was ed out on the sofa. I tried to wake her by rocking her body, but she just moaned. I knew that we were fucked. Darien was going to kill me, because he couldn’t be mad at his girlfriend. Grace then sat up and said, “I think I’m going to be sick!” She jumped up and ran to the half bath off the kitchen. I heard her throwing up in the toilet. Grace hadn’t drunk for a while, so her tolerance was lower than mine. “That should make you sober up faster,” I yelled before I listened to Jennifer’s message. Jennifer’s voice sounded serious, but I was having a hard time hearing her over Grace’s moaning words from the bathroom. I replayed the message, but only after I got up and walked down the hallway toward the front door. “Meredith, it’s Jennifer. I’m thinking that you didn’t watch the interview with retired General Robert Clemons, because I haven’t heard from you. I don’t want to discuss this in a message, so call me as soon as you get this.” Jennifer then hung up. I was feeling really panicked now, after hearing her message. I asked myself what he could have said that would have her sounding so concerned. My intoxication made everything seem confusing and strange as I sat and paused before calling Jennifer. Before I did, I first wanted to make sure Grace was okay. I walked into the bathroom, and there Grace was on the wood floor, slumped over the porcelain toilet bowl. The sweet smell of tequila, bile, and limes made me retch and gag. I immediately turned around and ran into the kitchen to splash cold water on my face. I had to swallow and force down my own vomit, as it

burned in my throat. I was now cursing myself for drinking so much. I prayed that Levi and Darien were running late, because Grace and I were both in bad shape. I wondered if throwing up would make it better? The thought of vomiting made me more nauseated, and my body convulsed. I pulled a glass mixing bowl out of the lower cabinet and put it in the sink. In seconds, my mouth started to water, and my stomach turned inside out, forcing my four glasses of margaritas up and into the bowl. I retched so violently that the muscles in my back spasmed as I spit the foul taste out of my mouth. “Oh my God, Grace!” I screamed with my head still over the bowl of puke. The awful smell was only encouraging another episode of retching, so I poured it down the drain and ran the garbage disposal. I was now drenched in sweat, and I could feel my body trembling. I kept spitting into the sink, trying to get the taste out of my mouth. Then I heard the screen door squeak and slam shut. I was panicked, so I ran from the kitchen into my bedroom. I tore off all my clothes and bolted into my bathroom, where I jumped into the shower. Grace was on her own now, and I could only hope that she had closed the door to the bathroom. It was up to her to save herself, I thought as I tried to wash away my drunkenness. Yet, I knew that my efforts were in vain, because who better to detect a drunk than a drunk? I heard Levi call my name as the hot water cascaded over my inebriated face. I said a quick prayer to whoever might be listening and called back, “I’m in the shower!” I did feel better, now that all that booze had been expelled out into the sink, but my fear was equal to when I was a kid and my dad caught Darien and I in the basement drinking his homemade chokecherry wine. My heart thumped inside my chest as I waited for Levi to come into the bathroom, but after five minutes went by, it was obvious that he wasn’t coming. I felt relieved as I washed the shampoo, and hopefully the smell of smoke, out of my hair. I grabbed the towel and wrapped up my wet hair before using another towel to dry my weak body. I didn’t feel as drunk anymore, but I now felt hungover. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and I didn’t like what I saw. I appeared pale and tired, so I applied some foundation and eye liner to freshen up my face. I towel-dried my hair and brushed it before grabbing clothes from the closet. I pulled on a sweatshirt and pants, not taking the time to put on undies or a bra. I

hurried out of the bathroom and went into the great room. Not knowing what to expect, I took a deep breath before entering the room. I could see that the door to the half bath was open, but the light was off. There was no sign of Grace. There wasn’t any sign of anyone. I went into the kitchen, where the light over the sink was on. “Levi?” I called out while washing out the mixing bowl with soap. I made a mental note to clean it later with bleach. I heard the screen door squeak and slam shut. I could hear someone walking down the hallway. I have to it that I was really frightened to see Levi. I didn’t know how he and Darien would react to our drunken night. “Hey, honey, did you call Jennifer? I’ve heard your phone ring a few times since I got home. The caller ID said it was a New York number,” Levi remarked as he walked up to me with a look that said “I want to kiss you.” I turned around and faced the sink while closing my eyes. “What’s going on, Meredith?” I felt Levi hold my shoulders and turn me around to face his handsome, sober face. I felt overwhelmed with guilt and shame, and I burst into tears when he looked into my bloodshot eyes. “I am so sorry. We just … we just went a little crazy … Levi, I am sorry. I know —” Levi put his finger over my lips and then gently kissed them. His tender reaction made me cry even more. He knew that I was punishing myself a lot worse than he could. “I’ve been there, Mer, and I know you’ve learned from this. I love you. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Levi replied, holding my face in his warm hands. “Where’s Grace? I feel bad. I panicked and left her praying to the porcelain god,” I joked, wiping away my tears. “Oh, Darien and I found her there in the dark, also crying,” Levi said with a smile on his face. “Darien took her home to bed, and that’s where I am going to take you, my dear.” Levi walked me into the bedroom and helped me get into

bed. He then kissed me on the lips and said he would get my phone so I could call Jennifer. But before he did, he reminded me that it was past twelve thirty in New York City. “Was Darien mad at Grace?” I asked before Levi left the room. “No, he was mad at you. How did he say it … ‘Oh, Meredith, the master instigator.’” Levi laughed and walked out of the room. “Asshole … I knew it!” I said out loud to myself. I then noticed that Stretch and Emmy were sound asleep in their comfy bed. I couldn’t tell whose body was whose. They just looked like a big, black mass in a brown bed. I could hear one of them snoring. Levi returned with my phone, a tall glass of water, and a turkey sandwich. “It will help if you eat. I know food is the last thing you want, but trust me. If you can get it down, it will help.” Levi put the sandwich and water on my bedside table. He leaned over and kissed me again. “I’m going to go home so you can talk with Jennifer and get a good night’s sleep. Stretch can stay here.” “No, Levi, please. I can call her tomorrow. You’re mad … just tell me that you’re mad. I know you’re tired of hearing about Blake and the interview. I guess what I am saying is that I want to take this horrible thing that Blake did and help others. There has to be something we can do to make sure that a monster like Blake never materializes again from mental illness or PTSD. Levi, I love you, and if you love me, then you will go through this journey with me.” My tears were rolling down my cheeks, and my voice was pleading to the man I was madly in love with. Levi just hung his head and looked down at me. He sat down on the bed, his expression somber. “I’m not mad … but you’re right. I’ve been acting like a jealous asshole. I am sorry.” Levi leaned in and kissed me. “If you want me to be honest, the smell of booze in this house is so strong, I don’t think I can stand it much longer,” Levi confessed, smiling. “I am sorry,” I said while covering my mouth. “You rest and make sure you eat and drink that.” Levi looked at the water and

sandwich on the nightstand. “Okay, love you.” Levi got up and left. I looked over at the sandwich. The thought of eating it made me feel nauseated. I really didn’t want to call Jennifer. All I wanted to do was sleep. I turned off the light, and within seconds I fell asleep. I was instantly wakened by the ring of my cell phone. Emmy also woke up and barked. I grabbed it off the nightstand and knocked the glass of water over on the sandwich. The water then spilled on the wood floor. “Shit … hello?” “Meredith? It’s Jennifer. Are you all right? I tried to call you about five times.” Jennifer’s voice sounded worried. “Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s a long story. I fell asleep,” I said, my mind feeling groggy. “Oh, I am sorry to wake you. Did you get my message?” “Yes, I was going to call you, but …what is it? What did he say?” I wanted to know. I turned on the light, sat up in bed, and propped my pillow up against the wooden headboard. “Well, he claims that Blake lied about being a POW.” “What? But I don’t understand.” I could feel my blood pressure rising and my heart rate quickening. “He said that Blake was there that night but that he wasn’t one of the pilots being held captive in the bunker. General Clemons stated on the record that Blake was the fighter pilot who was responsible for bombing the schoolhouse. He said that Blake put in the wrong coordinates and dropped the bomb killing all those Afghani children and American soldiers. Meredith, Blake was responsible for killing them. This is unfortunate. I am sorry. If you get a chance, watch it. I will call you tomorrow. Don’t be surprised if there are press outside your door in the morning. We need to remind the nation that our purpose hasn’t changed; even if Blake did accidentally bomb that schoolhouse, it just means that it was that incident that really messed him up, rather than being a POW. The military is still responsible for Blake’s mental illness, and we are going to make sure the nation knows that.” Jennifer sounded defiant and strong, and I was happy to have her

on my side. “You’re right, you’re right. This doesn’t change anything. Our mission is still the same. We need to hold the military able, and they need to give these vets the care they deserve,” I said, my emotions welling up in my throat. “That’s right. You get some sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Jennifer said goodbye and hung up. I dropped my cell phone on the bed, hung my head, and wept. I was confused, and I had so many questions, like how did Blake get all those injuries? Owen saw him in the hospital; he was a witness. I had seen his scars, which he would often downplay. Yet, it didn’t matter. We weren’t going to let this new evidence make us lose focus. It was more important than ever to get that report declassified. What else were they hiding, I now wondered. I got out of bed and went into the bathroom to get a towel to clean up the water. After that, I went into the kitchen and threw away the soggy sandwich. I grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator. My stomach felt a lot better, and I was hungry. So, I made myself a peanut butter sandwich and went back to my bedroom. It was eleven thirty my time, and I was surprised that Jennifer was still up on the east coast.

In the morning, I didn’t wake until nine o’clock. I woke with a jolt and sat up in bed. My head felt like a woodpecker had been pecking away at it, and my mouth was dry. I looked at the clock and saw the time. After that, I peered over the bed and noticed that the two dogs were gone. My cell phone starting ringing, and I answered it on the second ring. It was Maddy calling from . She apologized for not calling me on Monday, but she said that she hadn’t made it back to the house in time to call. It would have been after one in the morning my time, so she waited to call until this morning. I told her what was going on here and shared my idea about her and John buying my ranch. I also expressed my interest in the two of us starting our own riding program. Maddy was all in. She couldn’t believe that I would sell my ranch, but she said that she and John couldn’t have wanted a better place. I told her that I would an appraiser, and whatever it appraised for would be what I would

sell it for. She said that was fair and that she couldn’t wait to call and tell John. Maddy then told me about the horse she had found for me and his price, which was a hefty one hundred thousand dollars. She said that she would email me the horse’s papers and that if I wanted to go ahead and purchase the horse, she would give me the information needed to wire the money. Maddy was bringing back six horses, and the cargo plane was scheduled to leave in two days. The veterinarian was coming out tomorrow to complete all the prepurchase exams, X-rays, and health certificates. I told her that I would look at his papers, but I was sure I would buy him if she thought he was a smart purchase. She said that this gelding was a rare find and that he was only for sale because the owner had died suddenly and the family needed the money. I joked and said that I hoped that the horse hadn’t killed him. Maddy laughed and said no, that he had had a heart attack during the night and never woke up. Maddy went on to say that the horses would be quarantined at LaGuardia Airport for a few days, and then they would be flown to Jackson Hole once they were cleared. She would be with the horses for the entire trip, and she said that she would call me when they were about a hour from the airport. We said goodbye, and I put my phone on the bed. I still had about half a bottle of Gatorade left, so I drank it down, even though it was now warm. Levi then walked in and smiled while holding a tray of food for me. “There’s my girl. How do you feel?” Levi asked as he sat the tray down on the foot of the bed. I smiled back and told him that I felt like shit. He walked over and kissed me, even though I must have had old-barf breath. “You have a lot of company out there. Care to tell me what’s going on?” He sat on the bed next to me. “Can I eat first? I am starving,” I answered. Levi reached over, lifted the tray, and put it in my lap. He had made scrambled eggs and jelly toast with crisp bacon. “Thank you. This is nice, considering what a fool I made of myself last night,” I said before I began eating my breakfast. “No problem. I assume that this general said something that you didn’t expect, because I was accosted by reporters at your gate.” “Sorry … I didn’t watch the interview with Diane, but Jennifer basically told me

the gist of it. The general said that Blake wasn’t a POW. He claimed that Blake wasn’t one of the pilots held captive in the bunker under the schoolhouse. General Clemons stated on the record that Blake was in fact the pilot who was responsible for bombing the schoolhouse, killing the Afghani children and our soldiers. But it doesn’t change anything; the fact that they didn’t treat him for his PTSD is what we are focusing on.” “Wow … I don’t know what to say. But I agree. Last night I did a lot of research on PTSD and our veterans, and I’ve talked with some people I know in the military. Our VA hospitals and their doctors are failing to treat our honorable veterans. The most common form of treatment is antidepressants. You won’t believe this, but I read that an average of twenty-two veterans a day commits suicide. Most of them are suffering from PTSD.” “Oh my God, that’s unbelievable. I had no idea it was that bad. I had read that a lot of them have died from accidental overdose from taking antidepressants.” “It’s really bad, and I think we need to do something. You have a media platform with Diane, and with her help, we can take our mission to the public.” I was shocked by Levi’s sudden interest in my goal to help veterans. “I agree, but what are you thinking?” I asked. “Well, we are going to need a lot of money if we’re going to help … and I happen to have about three hundred and twenty-five million dollars just sitting in the bank, waiting to go to work,” Levi said with a big smile. “My God, Levi. Are you sure? That’s a lot of money, and … we could do a lot of good with that money.” I had to stop myself from crying. I was so touched my Levi’s generosity. “I think it’s the right thing to do, and God knows I don’t need the money.” I reached up and touched his face with my hand. “Thank you. I love you so much right now. Oh, and Maddy wants to buy my ranch, so I guess that means that I and my menagerie of animals are moving in with you,” I said with a happy grin. “Nothing would make me happier!” Levi said. Then he leaned in and kissed me.

“So, what do we do next? How do you start a foundation? And what should we name it?” I asked. “I don’t know the answer to any of those questions, but I am sure we can find out.” My cell phone then rang. I looked at the caller ID, and it said it was Owen. I took a deep breath and answered it. Levi got up and took the tray into the kitchen. “Hey, Owen.” I hadn’t spoken to him since our outburst in the bagel shop. “So, do you feel like a hero or a zero?” he asked, his tone sarcastic. “Neither. I wasn’t trying to be a hero, Owen, just a caring human being,” my tone was also sarcastic. “I am not sure how that general can explain how Blake got all those injuries. You may want to ask him that. Anyway, you can’t trust any of those fuckers,” Owen commented. “I know, right? Maybe they beat him. Owen, Levi and I want to start our own foundation to help veterans who are suffering from PTSD, and we need your help. We are going to need someone to represent us who’s in the medical field and who’s served. Are you in?” I asked, not sure he would want anything to do with me. Owen was silent for a while before he spoke. “Yeah … but you’re going to need a lot of money and a lot of press, two things I have none of,” he joked. “No problem. Levi has the money, and I have Diane Sawyer,” I answered. “Okay, you can count me in. I have to go; we just had a trauma come in. Car accident,” he said before quickly hanging up. I decided to call Grace and see how she was feeling after last night. I wasn’t sure if she had to work today or not. Her phone rang about four times before she answered it. “Hey, girl, how you feeling?” I asked with a smile on my face.

“Like death, that’s how. What about you?” Grace asked, her voice sounding like she had just woken up. “Better. My head is still pounding, but I was able to eat. Hey, Jennifer told me about the interview last night. It’s fucked up, but that’s not surprising, right? Anyway, I will fill you in later. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You have to tell me how the guys found you.” “Yeah, thanks for leaving me floundering around on the bathroom floor for them to find. I had turned the light off, but Darien heard me moaning on the floor. He turned the light on, and I heard him swear and curse your name. He and Levi helped me stand and brought me over to the sofa, where Darien asked me what had happened. Mer, I felt like a kid again. I was so ashamed and guilt ridden. I was crying like a baby, but it worked, because Darien wasn’t mad at me.” “Oh, I know. He was mad at me, that asshole.” “Hey, you’re talking about the man I love,” Grace said with conviction. “Sorry, I mean ‘that asshole boyfriend of yours,’” I taunted. “By the way, I’m selling my ranch to Maddy and John because I’m moving in with Levi.” “Are you serious? Mer, that is great news. I am so happy for you and Levi. Darien and I have our own news. I asked Darien to move in with me. It seems fitting, since you’re moving out of your place.” “Congratulations! Maybe we’ll have a double wedding,” I teased. “Are you kidding me? If Darien and I ever do get married, I won’t want to share the spotlight with you,” Grace ribbed. “True, I can see your point.” I went on to tell Grace about the foundation and how we were going to fund it and expose our cause nationally. She was excited and wanted to help, but she wasn’t happy about me wanting Owen to be a part of our nationwide campaign. Owen had taken a lot of the workload off her hands so she could spend more time with Darien. I told her that she could just hire someone else to fill Owen’s position. Grace told me that Darien had ed his driver’s license test and had an interview at the local golf club and resort in town. He was interviewing for an

assistant chef position, and he was excited about working again. I thanked her for helping me save my brother’s life, because only a few months ago, Darien was losing hope for his future. I was getting emotional talking about how far he had come with our love and . Grace went on to say that I had come along way emotionally, that being there for Darien had in turn helped me. It was what my sister Sandy had said would happen when he came to live with me. We were both crying, and when Levi walked in the bedroom and saw me weeping, he looked concerned. I smiled at him and mouthed that I was okay.

Two days ed. Levi and I woke up to a stormy Thursday morning. We decided to stay in bed and make love while a summer thunderstorm hammered the valley. I looked out the sliding glass doors and spotted my horses running for the barn. They looked so beautiful and free as the six of them galloped in a tight group while the heavy rain poured down on them. Stretch and Emmy were still curled up in their own bed, sensing the unsettling weather outside. My cell phone rang just as Levi was getting out of bed to take a shower. “Jennifer, how are you?” I asked before sitting up in bed. My morning of lovemaking with Levi had me feeling fulfilled. “Meredith, turn your television on,” Jennifer told me. I grabbed the TV turner off the night stand and turned on the television. “Turn it to ABC,” she added. “I have to go, but watch. Bye.” She hung up. When I got to the local ABC channel, I saw the familiar red-and-white “Breaking News” banner at the bottom of the screen. There also was a small box that said “Live.” The shot was of a slovenly man in his early forties with long matted brown hair and an overgrown, shaggy beard and mustache. His clothes were worn and tattered, and he appeared to be quite unsettled. Behind him, there was a weather-beaten porch with peeling paint and broken window screens. The sound of squawking chickens and barking dogs could be heard in the background. The man was being interviewed by a female news reporter from the local ABC in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

I quickly turned up the volume so I could hear the man talking. He looked straight into the camera and stated his name, which was Captain Walter James Coogen, retired air force pilot. He went on to say that General Clemons was lying about his fellow pilot, Captain Blake McBride. He alleged that General Clemons was the person responsible for giving the wrong coordinates that lead to the deadly bombing of the Afghani schoolhouse. He claimed that it was he who had dropped the bomb that night, seventeen years ago. He then hung his head in shame before continuing. After the failed raid, he said, Captain Coogen’s senior officer had ordered him not to say anything about what had happened that night and told him that if he did, he would be charged with treason and would spend the rest of his life in a military prison—the same threat they used on Blake. General Clemons had given Captain Coogen a dishonorable discharge from the air force, and he was sent stateside. He had moved to Puerto Rico soon thereafter. It was obvious that this serviceman had been living a troubled life, and I was sure that he had been suffering in silence for his mistake. His military had turned its back on him and covered it up. Captain Coogen had for many years been living a humble and impoverished existence, which seemed to reflect his feelings of remorse and unworthiness. It broke my heart to see that he had been keeping this secret for all these years, like Blake had done. The female reporter asked Captain Coogen if he had known Captain Blake McBride. The camera then moved in for a close up, and I could see the pain in his weary brown eyes. He dropped his head and then looked back at the camera and spoke. He said that Blake was a good friend and fellow airmen and that there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about him. The two had met at the Air Force Academy in Colorado and later trained together in Texas and at Luke Air Force Base in Arizona. The reporter asked him how he learned about his friend and fellow airmen’s plane crash? Captain Coogen said that he didn’t have television up where he lived in the jungle. The day of the crash, he was at a local bar in San Juan, when he saw a television story about the American enger plane crashing into the East China Sea. At that time, everyone thought it was an accident. He bought a copy of USA Today the next day and read the whole story.

At this point, the captain had to stop and check his emotions, because it was obvious that he was getting upset. The reporter told him to take his time. She tenderly reached out and touched his soiled hand, which was shaking. He then continued, declaring that he was very saddened by his friend’s death. He went on to say that he had never spoken to Blake after Blake was shot down and held captive. He wasn’t even sure if Blake had known that it was he who had bombed the schoolhouse and almost killed him. The reporter then asked Captain Coogen how he had felt when he heard that Blake had intentionally crashed the plane he was piloting, killing all those innocent engers and coworkers. The look on his face revealed the painful emotions he was feeling inside, and this time, he began to weep softly with his head hanging down. “Were you surprised?” the reporter continued. “Were you surprised that Captain McBride had committed such a horrific act, considering the hell he had gone through as a POW?” I saw him lift his head while wiping his tear-stained face with the back of his dirty hand. He shook his head no and then said that he wasn’t surprised at all. He then confessed that he had thought about committing suicide many times. “But,” he said, “I was too much of a coward to go through with it.” The reporter then asked him what he wanted to see happen to those who were responsible for this whitewashing of the collateral damage. Captain Coogen displayed a crooked smile and shook his head back and forth. He simply said that there was no way to erase the damage that had been done. He suddenly stood up. He pulled the microphone from his T-shirt, tossed it on the porch floor, and walked off camera. The Puerto Rican reporter turned to the camera and said that Captain Coogen was done with the interview.

Levi walked into the bedroom. I turned off the television and told him, “I have a name for our foundation.” “Great. What is it?” Levi asked while petting the two dogs, who had woken up and were yawning and stretching. “The Coogen Foundation,” I said with pride.

“Okay, you can explain why you chose that name later, but right now I need to feed these pups.” Levi took the dogs into the kitchen. Jennifer then called me back. She wanted to hear my reaction to Captain Coogen’s confession. I told her that I was pleased and that I had known all along that Blake hadn’t lied about what had happened to him. Jennifer stated that a crew was on its way to interview General Clemons to get his reaction. She laughed and said it would be interesting to hear what he had to say.

That evening, Levi and I watched the national news. They were airing the interview with General Clemons’s lawyer, Robert Magnelson. The attorney claimed that the retired general was suffering from the advanced stages of dementia, and because of his deteriorated mental condition, he wasn’t responsible for the false statement he had given to Ms. Sawyer. Levi turned off the television. He looked at me and smiled. I just shook my head and smiled in return. It must be nice to be so rich and powerful that anytime you did something wrong it could just be expunged, I thought.

A week later, Levi and I were busy getting our foundation set up. We hired lawyers and ants and filed all the necessary paperwork with the government. But before we could legally name our foundation “The Coogen Foundation,” we had to get Captain Coogen’s blessing to use his name. I wasn’t sure how we were going to ask this delicate question, but it needed to be done. Levi insisted that it be me because I was his best friend’s widow, and I agreed. I called Jennifer to see if maybe she could help. I didn’t want to just call him; that would be too impersonal. But I didn’t want to fly to Puerto Rico either. I thought that maybe we could Skype. That way we could see each other. But he lived in a very remote part of the country, and the only way to communicate with him was to go to his house. Jennifer said that she would the ABC reporter who had interviewed Captain Coogen and ask her to set everything up for me. Well, it all worked out perfectly, and Captain Coogen was excited about our meeting. While I waited for his image to appear on my computer screen, I took a

deep breath and then exhaled. And then there he was, smiling and calling out “Meredith McBride, are you there?” I could hear someone talking to him off camera. It sounded like the female news reporter. I said hello and thanked him for taking the time to meet with me. I gave him a brief rundown of our mission and why I was doing this. He was quiet as I spoke about my new ion. My emotions were bubbling up inside me, and I could hear it in my voice as I spoke. I could see Captain Coogen nodding his head and smiling while he listened intently to my words. “So, the reason I am telling you this today is, I want to name my foundation ‘The Coogen Foundation,’ and I wanted to get your blessing to use your name for our special cause,” I declared with conviction. Captain Coogen was obviously shocked yet touched by my request. I just smiled at him while fighting back my tears. He didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, trying to comprehend my words. He wasn’t comfortable being recognized for his military service, let alone having his family name attached to a foundation that would help heal all those who had been untreated. The captain’s emotions got a hold of him, and he began to weep deeply with heavy sobs. I saw the reporter walk over and tenderly rub his shoulder. Witnessing the captain’s gratitude reassured me that this was the right thing to do. I would make sure that Captain Coogen was the first vet that we helped. “So, captain, are you giving me your blessing?” I asked while wiping tears from my own face. Captain Coogen lifted his head and nodded yes. He then said the word yes several times. He thanked me for letting the world know about what had happened that night so long ago. I vowed to him that the sacrifice that he had made for our country wouldn’t go unrecognized. The next day, Levi had our foundation legally named. We also planned a trip to Puerto Rico so we could meet Captain Coogen and find out what he needed and wanted for his future. There was a place for him in our organization if he wanted it, I informed him, and I told him to think about it. I knew in my heart that my foundation couldn’t get off its feet until we made things right with Captain Coogen.

Over the next week, Levi and I did some research and found one of the nation’s best clinical psychiatrist, who specialized in post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. We wanted him to be our foundation president so he could help us write our mission statement on how we could heal our veterans. We wanted to work with the VFW, the Veterans of Foreign Wars organization, and have their . Levi and I discussed our plan to open our own healing facilities in major cities and expand further later when more money was raised. Our overall goal was to get the president and Congress to help fund our foundation, so it was important for us to be successful our first year to have even a chance of securing government funding. Levi read a story online about a man who was training dogs and giving them to veterans with PTSD. This was something we wanted to do. I knew from experience that animals were good therapy when dealing with many disorders. We thought, however, that we would take dogs from local shelters and have volunteers train the dogs for the veterans. This way, shelter dogs would be rescued, and they would, in turn, help rescue humans. I also wanted to have a therapeutic horseback riding program in our southern-state locations. It could perhaps be a camp where people came for a week or maybe a weekly program. There were several horse trainers from around the country who I knew would offer their time to help train these horses. We could rescue horses that were heading for Mexican slaughter houses—another win. I talked with Jennifer about the Coogen Foundation, and she thought it was a fantastic idea. She had spoken to Diane about it, and Diane told Jennifer to give me her personal cell phone number and to tell me that when I needed her help, I should call. It was so gratifying to see that everything we had dreamed of was coming true. Levi was working hard on the legal and money side, while I concentrated on the marketing.

The next morning, I was waiting for a call from Maddy. One of the horses that she was having transported back from had a fever, and the flight had had to be postponed for two days. When the horses had arrived in New York,

another horse—my horse—was extremely dehydrated, so they’d had to stay quarantined a few days longer until the vet gave Maddy the okay. Their flight would be coming into the Jackson Hole Airport in the early afternoon. I had my trailer hooked up and ready to go for when she called, letting me know they were about to land. Maddy had done this many times. She would charter her own cargo plane to transport her prized horses. I had insured my horse and hoped that he made the trip with no injuries or medical problems. His ed name was Galileo Galilei, after the Italian astronomer and physicist. I was excited to meet the latest member of my horse family.

I was planning a party for the next day at my ranch to celebrate Maddy and John’s purchase of the place. I had only invited a few friends and family. Levi had taken down my Thistle Dew sign and hung it where the old Miller Ranch sign had been. He then hung the old Miller Ranch sign inside the barn. Levi also took down my tepee and set it back up along his creek under the grove of cottonwoods trees. I told Maddy that I would have to leave my animals there until the sale of the twenty acres closed. We were also in the process of building a large arena and a pen for the goats. After that, we would have to put up a fence and dig water lines for the newly purchased land. Darien and Grace were now living together, and I was feeling a little empty without Darien in my life every day. Still, I knew he was happy. Maddy was having the movers come in a few days. I was leaving most of my furnishings, and whatever she didn’t want, we could donate or sell. Maddy said her boys were so excited that Auntie Meredith’s ranch would be their new home. John, Maddy’s husband, had called me the day before and said that his good friend had ten-week-old Australian shepherd puppies for sale. I told him I wanted a female and asked if he could bring it to the airport when I picked up my horse. He said that he would and thanked me for selling him my ranch. I told him I wouldn’t have sold it to anyone other than them.

Darien, Levi, and Karen were putting together a feast for us and had been in my kitchen for most of the morning. Levi had brought over his outdoor roasting spit. Darien had purchased a pig from a local rancher and was going to slow roast it all night over a fire. Grace and I, meanwhile were busy cleaning out Blake’s workshop in the barn. We had filled dozens of boxes with Blake’s crap that we were going to haul to the dump. I gave Grace the box of prescription drugs for her to dispose of at the hospital. I was feeling a little sad thinking about leaving my home. I had a lot of happy memories here. Yet, it gave me some comfort to know that Maddy and her family would love it as much as I did.

My cell phone then rang, and it was Maddy. They were landing in about an hour. We were about an hour from the airport, so the timing was going to work out just right. Grace and I ran to my truck and began our trip to the airport to welcome my horse Galileo. The three dogs chased after us down the driveway, barking. Emmy was not happy with me for leaving her at home. It was a beautiful sunny day in the middle of July, and I was getting excited to meet my new equine. Grace and I arrived at the Jackson Hole Airport and were directed by airport officials to pull our horse trailer around to a restricted area near the tarmac. John was already there with their six-horse trailer. He was standing next to his truck cab holding a small gray-and-black, furry ball. I hadn’t told Grace about the puppy, and when she saw John holding the dog, she fell in love. I pulled my truck and trailer up next to his and then hurried over to see the puppy, but Grace had beaten me to it and was already holding and kissing the blue-eyed Australian shepherd. Her voice rose a few octaves, and she was snuggling and kissing the puppy. John smiled at me, and then we hugged. He whispered “thank you” in my ear. We then heard and saw the large cargo jet touching down on the runway to the north. The puppy was frightened when it heard the loud roar of the engines. The sound was deafening as the plane zoomed by us at about a hundred miles an hour. Grace covered the puppy’s ears with her hands and held it close to her body. After a few minutes, we saw the cargo plane taxiing our way. Grace put

the puppy in John’s truck, because it was too loud for her tiny ears. We all then covered our ears as the plane came to a halt. The pilot shut off the engines, and the ground crew scurried over to put the rubber wedges behind the large tires. At the back of the cargo plane was a massive door, which looked like a giant mouth when it opened. We all watched as the gangplank thing dropped down. A few minutes later, we saw Maddy and another person exit down the ramp. Maddy saw us through the large wheels of the plane and waved. The three of us ran over to her so we could help her unload the six horses. My heart was beating fast as we climbed the wide ramp and walked into the dark belly of the plane. Inside, there were six twelve-foot-by-twelve-foot steel stalls with four-foot-tall walls. I could see the horses pacing inside the stalls, their eyes expressing their uneasiness. Maddy had told me that the take offs and landings were the most stressful for the horses. For that reason, the quicker we got them off the plane, the better. She handed us each a halter and a lead rope. Maddy would take two horses and I would take my new horse, Galileo. I walked over to his end stall and saw that he was the most relaxed of the six. To me, this was a good sign. I spoke to him in a calm voice while stroking the tense muscles in his neck. He had large, brown eyes, a reddish chestnut coat, and a black mane and tail. I easily placed the halter on him and told him what a good boy he was. I dug a sugar cube out of my shirt pocket and gave it to him. He hesitated at first and just smelled it. Then he smelled it again and ate it. I looked over to see if the others had their horses ready. It was best to go as a group, otherwise the horses that were left behind would panic. I saw that Maddy had her two ready to go, and she was opening their stall doors. Grace, John, and her friend Penny were also ready to unload the horses from the plane. The horses all looked happy to leave their stalls as together we walked slowly and quietly down the ramp. We stopped halfway down the ramp so the horses could adjust to the bright sunlight and the new smells flooding in. A few of them snorted and pranced in place. Maddy then told us to walk on, so we all headed down the last part of the ramp two by two. Galileo was more excited than nervous when we touched down on the tarmac. I handed him to John and ran over to our trailers to open the back doors. Without wasting anytime, Maddy quickly escorted her two horses into her trailer. John and Penny followed with their horses. Maddy wanted to load her new horse, Soldier, into my trailer with Galileo. We would keep them together at my place,

separated from my herd, until they were adjusted to their new surroundings. Galileo and Soldier loaded perfectly, and we closed the trailer doors with a sigh of relief. Maddy and I then hugged, her face revealing her relief and gratitude as she peered into my eyes. I told her, “Welcome home,” and kissed her on both cheeks. The horses were stomping inside the trailers. It was their way of saying, “Let’s roll!” I told Maddy to wait. I looked over at John, and he ran to the cab of his truck to get the puppy. Maddy and Penny oohed and aahed over the cute little puppy. I walked up to John and took the puppy from him. I told him I would pay him later. He smiled at me and handed over the sleepy puppy. Grace looked surprised, because she thought it was John’s puppy. “You bought a puppy?” Grace asked as we walked over to my truck. I turned around and reminded Maddy and John to come over around noon the next day. They nodded and said goodbye. “Mer, let me hold her. You have to drive,” Grace said. I handed her the puppy and climbed into the truck. “What are you going to name her? I think you should call her—” I interrupted her. “She’s for Darien … a gift from me,” I announced with a big grin while looking over at Grace, who held the sleeping puppy in her lap. Grace’s mouth opened wide. She had to stop her excitement from bursting out of her mouth, because she didn’t want to wake the dog. “He is going to fall in love! I think she’s the cutest puppy ever. Doc will love her too.” Grace was teary eyed as she snuggled up with the limp puppy. The puppy woke up a little and started to lick her nose. She opened her piercing little blue eyes and made our hearts melt. “Nothing better than puppy breath, is there?” Grace asked as she let the puppy lick her face. “No there isn’t,” I stated, and I pulled out onto the highway.

We pulled up to the ranch gate. It was strange to not see the Thistle Dew sign overhead. The three dogs were in the yard waiting for us. They ran alongside my truck and trailer, their eager tails wagging. Emmy barked, and her toothy grin made me smile. I stopped the truck near the barn and jumped out of the cab. The two horses were moving around inside the trailer as I opened the back and lowered the ramp. I told them “easy” several times and walked up the ramp. Grace stood holding the puppy, who was now chewing on her thumb. The three dogs were sniffing and jumping up on Grace to inspect the new little puppy. I heard Grace yell at Doc to get down. I pushed the dividers over and slid between the two horses. They were a little nervous as I rubbed both their necks and spoke to them. I hooked their lead ropes onto their halters and slowly walked them backward out of the trailer and down the ramp. They exited the trailer calmly and looked around at their new home. My herd was in front pasture up against the fence, curious about the newcomers. I heard Traveller whinny, and Galileo returned with a loud neigh. He and Soldier were looking over at my horses, their heads high and their nostrils flaring. With a horse on each side of me, I gave them each a loose lead rope as I walked them slowly over to the small turnout, which was attached to the barn. I didn’t want to let them loose in a wide-open space yet, because it was too dangerous. My goats called out and startled the two horses. I stood there for a few seconds so they could see that it was just noisy goats. I would keep them in this small turnout for a few days until they got comfortable. Grace opened the gate, and I let one horse in at a time, making sure that they didn’t rush through the gate. They were both gentlemen and walked slowly into the pen with no drama. They were well-trained horses, and I was thankful for their strict German training. Darien walked over with a few flakes of alfalfa and tossed them in the pen. The two horses hurried over when they saw the alfalfa and started to eat. Darien asked which one was mine. I told him it was the red chestnut, and his name was Galileo. Grace had seen Darien coming out of the house after we pulled up, so she had put the puppy back into the cab of my truck so I could surprise him. I asked Darien if he could help me clean out the trailer. He said no problem and

went over to get the wheelbarrow from the barn. Grace smiled at me as we got near the truck. I opened the driver side door, and there she was, just sitting there cute as ever waiting for me. Her blue eyes were the color of the Caribbean, I thought, and I wanted her for my own. I heard Darien coming toward me, so I picked up the puppy and turned around. When Darien saw the tiny ball of fuzz, he stopped in his tracks, dropping the wheelbarrow. His mouth was open, and the joy on his handsome face was my reward. “She’s for you, bro! You need a dog of your own now,” I said before handing her over to him. Darien looked shocked, because he had thought that it was my puppy. He paused and looked at me again to see if maybe I was pulling his leg. I just nodded and held her out. I told him to take her before I changed my mind. Darien hurried over, scooped her up, and snuggled her up to his face. The puppy starting licking his face, while her docked tail tried to wag. “Puppy breath! I love that smell!” he declared as the puppy pawed his face. “Well, what are you going to name her?” I asked. “That’s easy. Just look at those eyes. Her name has to be Blue,” Darien answered, looking over at Grace, who was crying. Doc, Emmy, and Stretch were eager to inspect this new creature, and they smelled the air and whined at Darien’s feet. “Great name. Blue it is, then,” I stated. “Now you guys go enjoy your puppy, and I will clean out the trailer.” “Not so fast, Mer. I need to give you a big hug for this gift.” Darien walked up to me, and we hugged for a long time. Grace was holding Blue, and this time, Doc jumped up and licked Blue’s rump. Grace yelled at him to get down. “You have saved my life. You know that, right?” Darien emotionally declared as we peered into each other’s eyes. “Maybe so. But you have given me my life back … so we’re even,” I replied, touching his warm cheek.

CHAPTER 11

T HE NEXT MORNING, WE ALL woke up early to get ready for the party. Grace and Darien had stayed over at my place so Darien could keep the fire going under the pig. Levi had also stayed over, and we were both up at 6:00 a.m. to feed the horses and goats. Galileo and Soldier were both doing fine. They were waiting for us in their small turnout, nickering for their breakfast. I quickly checked their droppings to make sure they weren’t too hard or too soft. I then checked their gums, and they looked nice and pink. Their hocks were still stocked up, which meant that they were retaining fluid, so it was important that they moved around today. I would have Levi put up a hot wire across part of the twenty-acre pasture so they could run around but in a limited space—maybe five acres.

Karen and her husband, Bill, along with their two girls, Becky, aged twelve, and Melissa aged fourteen, arrived at around nine o’clock to help set up for the party. The guys were called over by Levi to set up the large, canvas party tent that we had rented. They were going to erect the tent in the backyard just off the deck. The weatherman was calling for temperatures in the mideighties, so we thought that we would need some shade. Grace and I then set up two four-foot-long tables and chairs under the tent. Levi needed the guys to help him put up the solar hot-wire fence in the back pasture.

Once I was finished with my chores, I went inside to take a shower. I found Karen and her daughters in the kitchen organizing the food in the two refrigerators. They had just made three huckleberry pies, and they were getting ready to put them in the oven. The girls were going to make homemade ice cream next and then place the sun tea out on the back deck to brew. I had loved having parties here at my ranch, but it had been over a year since I’d had one. I think it must have been the previous Fourth of July, when Blake and I

had a celebration at the ranch. As I thought back on that day as I undressed in my closet, it seemed like it had been a lot longer ago than that. The hot water helped wash away my memories of Blake and helped me focus on what I needed to do for the foundation in the coming weeks. “Hey, do you need a shower buddy?” Levi asked while standing naked in front of the glass shower door. “I do, but tell your very large sidekick to stand down. I have a lot to do before the party,” I ribbed before opening the door to the shower. All Levi had to do was look at me, and I was wet with lust for him. All my worries disappeared with just one look at his hungry eyes. I touched his strong jaw and caressed his hard ass while he kissed me with desire. The water cascaded over our hot, naked bodies, and it didn’t take long before he was sliding his hard cock up inside my yearning gap. I moaned and welcomed the penetration of his rigid penis while I wrapped my right leg around his hip and held him tightly. Levi then sat me down on the bench and put my legs on his shoulders. With gentle thrusts of his hips, he eased his hard dick deeper. I let my body go limp and welcomed the flood of pleasure that jolted through my body. I convulsed and grabbed the bench sides to steady myself. Levi came right after I did, his climax also making his body quiver and shake. He then picked me up in his arms and kissed me with tenderness and love. I told him that that had been exactly what I needed, and we held each other while the hot water washed over us.

Around noon, Maddy and her family arrived, and a few minutes later, Owen drove up in his old, red JeepWrangler. He had the top down, and I thought he looked handsome, with his aviator sunglasses and his strawberry blonde hair blowing in the breeze. Darien and Grace were busy watching the pig as it slowly rotated on the rotisserie spit. I could smell the roasting pig, and it made my mouth water as I sat on the front porch swing holding baby Blue in my arms. I waved at Owen as he got out of his Jeep, and he walked up to greet me. “Where’s your date? I told you to bring someone,” I teased.

“No time for girls, just work,” he replied. He sat down next to me and spotted Blue in my lap. He instantly took her sleepy body from me. “She’s Darien’s. My gift to him. But I think I should’ve gotten one for me,” I declared while petting her soft fur. “No doubt. She’s an angel.” Owen held her up to his face so he could see her piercing blue eyes. We then saw Maddy’s boys running around the front yard, chasing after Emmy, Doc, and Stretch, who were fighting over a big stick. Karen’s girls ran out the screen door, and it slammed shut behind them. They were talking loudly and laughing as they bolted down the steps and ran toward the boys. I just sat and listened to the children play, and in my heart there was a sadness, an emptiness I’d never really noticed before. I closed my eyes and welcomed their joyous screams and echoing laughter, along with the sound of a barking dog. I pretended that they were my children, the next generation who would complete all the things that I would leave behind unfinished. These were my children to tell stories to late at night when their tummies were sick, and their imaginations were mine to mold. They were my children to teach all the things that I had learned. I would love these children unconditionally and show them that they were the most important things in the world. I would shield them from hate and ignorance while accepting their faults. “Meredith?” I heard Owen say. “Did you fall asleep?” I looked up and smiled. “No, just daydreaming. Have you ever wished that you had kids?” I asked while watching the kids play. “No. Well, I guess I never really thought about it either way. Why?” he asked. “I was born without a uterus,” I stated. “Wow, that’s rare. You wanted kids?” Owen asked while petting Blue. “I don’t know. When I found out at the age of thirteen, I knew it would never happen, so I just never let myself go there. Blake hadn’t wanted kids, so it worked out great.” Karen’s daughter Becky then ran up and asked if they could play with the puppy.

Owen handed Blue to her but said with a firm voice to be careful with her. Becky looked back at Owen, and she could see that he was very serious. She returned his gaze with her own serious face and told him that they would be gentle with her. “See, you would have been a great father,” I said, smiling at him. Maddy then came over from the barn and said she wanted to get the boys out so they could run. I got up, and together we walked over to their turnout, where they were napping in the warm sun. Levi, Bill, John, and Darien were still setting up the fence, so we put the horses’ halters on and led them over to the arena. Maddy unhooked Soldier’s lead rope, and I did the same with Galileo. They both bolted down the side of the arena and bucked and pranced like foals. Maddy and I laughed and watched the two let off some pent-up energy. There were some loud snorts and some impressive extended trots and puffed up necks. To us, nothing was more beautiful. The two horses ran around for a few more minutes before they began walking around the arena, smelling everything and looking over at my herd in the front pasture. They both looked sound, and I was excited to see what Galileo could do, seeing as he was a school master. He would be perfect for our beginning students and also for our students who were jumping the more challenging courses. Levi came over and told us that the fence was ready. Maddy and I caught the two horses and led them over to the back pasture. I could see the white electric cord flashing in the sun, and it would be easy for the horses to see it too. We walked the horses into the pasture, and they were excited to run free and explore. At first they just stood there until Maddy clapped her hands, and then off they went, galloping across the grassy pasture. Their thundering hooves sounded like a drum beating in the distance. Again, they bucked and jumped around, their freedom achieved. They stopped at the hot wire and then turned around and started grazing contently. We could hear the kids playing over by the creek. Becky and Melissa were taking turns swinging on the tire swing. Their screams of joy carried over our way. The two boys were splashing around in the creek, throwing rocks, and making boats to float down the steam. I could also see the three dogs exploring the banks of the creek. This was country life, and everything about it to me was

priceless. I had everything I could ever want right here, right now. I looked over at Maddy, and I could tell that she was feeling what I was feeling: contentment.

Darien waved and yelled to us that the pig was ready. We hurried over to the house and went inside to get all the other food ready. The guys were all out watching Darien carve up the pig. Grace went over to the front porch and rang the old school bell that I had mounted on the porch post. She rang it several times to announce to the kids that it was time to eat. The thirteen of us sat down at the two tables under the tent and gave thanks for family and friends. Levi delivered a special prayer for Maddy and John, that they may make this land a place of love, hope, and family. We all yelled, “Amen!” and dug in to the yummy food on our plates. As I sat and consumed the juicy, tender pork and the several side dishes Karen had made, I felt emotional and grateful for this day. Karen got up and refilled all our glasses with sun tea and then went inside to get the plate of pork. We all wanted seconds, and there was plenty to go around. Darien was holding Blue in his lap. She was all tired out from playing with the girls. The previous night, she had slept with Doc in his bed, which was next to Darien and Grace’s bed. She’d slept all night, even though Darien had gotten up several times to add more wood to the fire. After our wonderful meal, the kids ran off to play, and the adults sat and watched the two horses enjoy their new mountain home. Karen and Darien went inside to get the pies and the homemade ice cream ready. Grace cleared the plates and carried them inside. “I can see why you like having parties; you have your guests do all the work,” Levi teased before taking a sip of his iced tea. “That’s right,” I answered back with a devilish grin. “Here we are, fresh huckleberry pie with homemade ice cream!” Darien announced as he set down the tray he was carrying. Karen wasn’t far behind with the plates and silverware.

We all felt sleepy after our big meal, and it wasn’t long before the guys were on the deck chairs nodding off. The girls, on the other hand, were in the kitchen loading dishes into the dish washer and putting the leftovers in the refrigerator. Darien had cut all the meat off the pig and had filled two big roasting pans with it. After Grace, Maddy, Karen, and I, finished cleaning up, we wanted to do something fun. So we decided to saddle up the horses and play around in the arena. I wanted to show Maddy the progress Darien and I had made with Geronimo. Darien had been working with him five days a week, and he was nearly a finished horse. Darien spotted us girls leading the horses over to the hitching post and came running over with Blue following him, her short little legs going as fast as they could. He encouraged her to follow him by clapping his hands and calling her name. The other three dogs, who had to seem like giants to Blue, came galloping by her, nearly trampling her little body. She stopped and froze, whimpering. Darien ran back to her and picked her up while kissing her. I had six brothers and sisters, so I knew how Blue felt, I told the girls. They all laughed. I told Darien to get Geronimo ready so he could show Maddy what a great rider and trainer he was. After only three months, Darien had become a great horseman. He had a natural athletic ability and a special connection with horses. We left the other three horses tied to the hitching post and went to watch Darien ride Geronimo in the round pen. Darien was so excited as he led Geronimo into the round pen. He slipped off the halter and put a rope loop around Geronimo’s neck. Darien then took off his shirt, because he was sweating. He also took off his boots and went barefoot. He grabbed a handful of mane and swung himself onto Geronimo’s back like the Native Americans did in the old movies. Darien looked like he could be Native American, with his black hair, bare chest, and tanned skin. All he needed was a headdress and war paint. We were all gathered around. Even the kids had climbed up on the rail and were excited to see Uncle Darien ride. With only a single rope around Geronimo’s neck, Darien used it in place of a bridle. They looked so great together as Geronimo trotted around the pen. Darien had trained Geronimo to work off of just voice commands or in combination with leg, seat, and rein signals.

Geronimo looked soft and loose as Darien eased him into a nice Western lope, or canter. We all cheered as Darien put his arms straight out while looking up toward the heavens, like an Indian brave praying to his gods. His balance was impeccable, and he and Geronimo were one as they flowed through the air. Suddenly we all heard a loud bang that echoed across the pasture. I I looked toward the road to see what it was, and then I heard Grace scream like I had never heard her scream before. I looked back at Darien and noticed that Darien had fallen backward on Geronimo’s back. I could see blood oozing out of his side. Geronimo had come down to a trot, and then a few seconds later, Darien’s lifeless body fell to the ground. Geronimo stopped when he felt Darien sliding off, his blood smeared down the side of the horse’s white coat. It all happened so fast, but in my mind it was unfolding in slow motion. My brain still hadn’t comprehended what had just happened. I sat frozen on the rail watching Grace, Owen, and Levi run up to Darien, who was lying on his back, motionless and bleeding. I then noticed Bill and Karen running toward the road, from where we had heard the loud bang. I spotted a tan car pulling away and speeding down the dirt road as a cloud of dust swirled behind. Maddy and John grabbed all the children and hurried them away from what was going on. I still wasn’t grasping what had just happened. I was denying the inevitable truth, which was that Darien had just been shot. Owen yelled for someone to call 911. Grace looked over at me, her hands stained crimson with Darien’s blood, and screamed that he needed the life flight chopper, now! I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and franticly dialed 911. When the dispatcher answered, I told her that we needed a chopper at the McBride Ranch. I told her that my brother Darien had been shot. The dispatcher asked where he had been shot and by whom. I yelled over to Grace and asked where he had been shot. She said he had been hit in the liver and would bleed out if we didn’t get him to Idaho Falls in the next half hour. The dispatcher had heard Grace and said she would dispatch the chopper and send the sheriff over. I then saw Owen take off his shirt and place it over the wound. Darien was losing consciousness, and I could now hear Grace talking to him. “Darien, honey, you have to hold on, baby. Don’t stop fighting, dammit. You can’t … Darien … I am here …you can’t leave me!”

Hearing her words and the urgency in her voice, I broke down. I jumped down from the rail and hurried over to my brother. I looked at him. His face was pale, and his big brown eyes were only half open. He was trying to speak, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say, so I just told him, “Darien, I love you. Please, you have to hold on!” I then touched his cheek, which felt cold. Grace and Owen rolled him over to see if the bullet had gone through, and it had. In the sand, there was a large pool of fresh blood, and it made me gasp. My breathing got heavy, and I felt faint as we heard the chopper flying our way. Owen was doing all he could to stop the bleeding, but stopping it completely would take surgery. Until then, the only way to keep Darien alive would be to keep pumping more blood into him. That’s why it was paramount that we get him to the hospital in Idaho Falls, seventy miles away, where they had a lot of blood in their blood bank. Karen and Bill were there to show the pilot where he could land, which was on the driveway. My horses were surprisingly calm when the chopper touched down. John had grabbed Geronimo and put him in a stall along with the other three horses. The paramedics hurried over with a backboard, and within minutes, they had Darien loaded into the chopper. I hopped up into the chopper along with Grace. Levi and Owen said that they would drive to Idaho Falls and meet us at the hospital. The chopper pilot then reported that they were flying him to Salt Lake City. Owen screamed to the pilot that Darien wouldn’t make it, that he would bleed out. The paramedic said the Idaho Falls Hospital wasn’t equipped to handle a trauma this severe. Owen ordered them to take him to Idaho Falls. He then screamed at Grace to get out so he could get in. Owen told the pilot that he would be doing the surgery, so all they had to do was fly to Idaho Falls and do it now. The situation had us all very tense, and I decided that I would settle it. “Okay, you heard the man. Let’s roll!” I shouted over the chopper noise. The look on Grace’s face was pure anguish as she wondered if this was going to be the last time she saw Darien alive. I asked the pilot if we could fit one more person. He said yes, and Grace quickly jumped in. Within seconds, we were airborne, flying to Idaho Falls, a trip that should take only fifteen minutes by chopper. We landed at the hospital, and Darien was still losing a lot of blood. His

vitals were falling quickly, and if they didn’t get blood into him soon, he would bleed out and die. Owen took charge and told the attending emergency room doctor to get all the blood they had ready. Owen then asked me what blood type Darien was, and I told him he was B positive. I knew this because when we were kids, my mom had had us all tested. She was a nurse, and she thought it was important for us to know our blood types. That information proved invaluable now. Owen seemed pleased with his blood type because he said it was a common type. They wheeled Darien quickly into the emergency room and into the elevator up to surgery. Before Owen went to scrub for surgery, he told me and Grace that he would save him. Owen’s blue eyes expressed his comion, and I knew that he would save my brother. Now we waited. Grace and I just stood there, unable to look at each other, because if we did, we would lose it. Grace was a doctor, and she knew how critical Darien was. I, on the other hand, thought that Owen would just have to stop the bleeding, like a plumber fixing a leaky pipe, and he would be fine. I told Grace that I was going to the chapel. She didn’t say anything, and I walked away down the hall, looking for the sign that told me where the chapel was. When I walked inside the chapel, there was no one else in there, which was good, because I had a lot to say to God. The room was dark and comforting with four stained glass windows depicting Biblical scenes. There were two rows of pews, and at the front of the chapel, there were several rows of prayer candles. I walked up and made the sign of the cross over my chest automatically, like I had done so many times as a child. I then peered up at the large crucifix hanging above me. A sense of peace overcame me as I lit a candle for Darien, after which I went and sat down, watching the small candles flicker and dance in the low light. The candlelight represented life and hope for all of those who entered here, I thought to myself. I was one of those mortals who needed help. I needed God to spare Darien’s life, and if being here would help, then I was going to try. I wasn’t sure how to pray, so I just started to speak and hoped that someone or something was listening. “I know you get a lot of people like me asking you to spare their loved ones’ lives, and it’s a big deal. It must be overwhelming to hear everyone’s

heartbreaking stories, but I am going to ask you anyway, because I don’t have any other way to channel my feelings of helplessness. I won’t blame you if he dies, and I won’t hold it against you, because sometimes it’s just fate and life has to be that way. Yet, Darien’s life has just begun. At the age of thirty-nine, he’s just been reborn, and I want him to have years of unconditional love with my dear friend Grace. He’s suffered for so much of his life, and I want him to have a chance—a chance to cherish the life that you’ve given him, God. So, I beg you to please …” I couldn’t go on. My sadness was burning in my throat, and I wanted to scream. Just then, I heard the door to the chapel open, and light flooded in. Like an angel, Grace slowly walked in and said that Owen wanted to talk to us. It was plain to see that her sorrow burdened her ability to function. Her movements were labored, and I concluded her mind must be in a daze. I was shocked that Owen was already done with the surgery, because it had only been about thirty minutes. Grace and I looked into each other’s eyes, and we fell apart. We held each other tightly and sobbed. Owen then walked up to us and touched my shoulder. Grace and I pulled apart and looked for the truth in Owen’s weary eyes. He cleared his throat and said that Darien was stable. But, he confessed, his liver was failing. Owen declared that the bullet wound, along with Darien’s cirrhosis, had damaged the liver beyond repair. He would be first on the list for a new liver, but even so, he only had about twenty-four hours until his liver would fail and he would die. Grace and I both collapsed in despair when we heard Owen’s grave report. We all knew that finding a liver that matched in less than twenty-four hours was unlikely. Owen said that it was important that we go and be with him and that we should prepare ourselves for the end. Darien was still unconscious, and he probably wouldn’t regain consciousness, Owen added with regret. It was at this time that I let myself ask who had shot my brother and why. I ed seeing the car pull away, and I now wondered if law enforcement was pursuing this person. Grace and I walked with Owen to Darien’s private room in the ICU. There were two armed policemen standing on each side of his hospital door. Their presence was a harsh reminder of why Darien was here. I felt like I was traveling thought a dark tunnel as I saw Darien laying lifeless in the hospital bed. He had been intubated and was on a respirator. There were tubes coming out everywhere, and

monitors were beeping and flashing. His eyes were taped shut, and his skin looked orange, because of his limited liver function. Grace was despondent and weeping as she leaned over and stroked his forehead with her shaking hand. She then kissed him. At that point, I noticed that Darien’s blood was still on her hands. The blood had dried, and it looked almost brown in color. She also had his dried blood on the front of her T-shirt and on her jeans. I just stood there shaking my head. Anger now dominated my emotions. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I wasn’t going to stop fighting for Darien. I pulled Owen out of the room and asked him if there was anything we could do to get Darien a new liver. Could we pay or maybe use half of my liver? I told him to see if I was a match. I was getting frantic as I tried to think of a solution. Owen touched my shoulder and looked into my eyes, which were filled with grief. “Meredith, I am sorry,” he said, lowering his eyes to the floor. I slapped his face and screamed, “You said that you would save him, Owen! You said … you would save him!” Owen grabbed me by the shoulders and held me tight. I collapsed in his embrace and cried while I tried to accept this new reality, that Darien was going to die.

An hour went by, and Grace and I were sitting on either side of Darien keeping vigil, our hearts aching with sorrow. I couldn’t stand it, I couldn’t just sit there and wait for him to slowly die. Then Levi, John, and Maddy rushed into the room. I pushed out my chair and ran to Levi, collapsing in his arms. His embrace was the only thing that was keeping me erect, as my sadness limited my ability to stand. Maddy and John stayed just outside the room talking with what looked like a state trooper. I pulled away from Levi and ed them in the hospital hallway. The trooper introduced himself and said that they had a good description of the shooter and the car he was driving. Karen and Bill had had the foresight to take a cell phone photo of the car and write down its description. The trooper then asked me if I might know who would want to shoot my brother. I just shook my head and said no. Levi put his arm around me and told the trooper to let us know if they found him. We walked back into Darien’s room, and I sat back down.

Levi pulled up a chair and sat next to me. We were all quiet as we listened to the monitors.

With each ing hour, Darien’s condition worsened. His dropping vital signs kept reminding us, like grains of sand flowing through an hourglass, that we didn’t have much time. Nurses would come in every fifteen minutes or so to check on him, and it seemed that their efforts were in vain. After four hours had ed, I looked over at Levi, who had his head in his hands. I told him that I needed to do something. I needed to talk with someone or find out who had done this. Levi peered up at me and revealed his own tears. He nodded, and we got up and left the room. Grace wasn’t saying a word; she just sat close to Darien, weeping and holding his right hand in both of hers. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I had this overwhelming urge to run. I didn’t want to just sit there anymore and watch him die. I looked up at Levi and asked him what we could do. He just touched my face and said that he didn’t know. I hadn’t seen Owen for about an hour and wondered where he was. Maddy and John came over; they had been sitting in the waiting room. Maddy hugged me and wept quietly while she held me tightly. She said that Karen and Bill were watching the kids and the animals and told me that they could stay for as long as I needed them. I thanked her and asked if they had heard anything about the shooter. She just shook her head no and cried even harder. Seeing her tears now made me sob again. Levi and I walked with them to the small waiting room down the hallway. We spotted Owen rushing our way and talking with a female nurse. When Owen saw us, he started to run. I could feel my heart thumping inside my chest. “We got a liver!” he yelled, his face expressing his gratitude. “We need to get Darien to the OR now. The donor’s liver is being harvested right now.” We all started to sprint down the hallway. “I don’t understand. The donor is here, in this hospital?” I asked while running alongside Owen. “Yes. It’s a miracle!” Owen announced, and he gave me a big grin.

When we got to Darien’s room, there were already several hospital staff hurrying around, getting Darien ready to move. Grace was standing there, unaware of what was happening. The look on her face was that of someone who was in shock. I quickly took hold of her and told her that we had a liver. Her face then came to life as the good news sunk in. Owen and his team wheeled Darien’s hospital bed briskly down the corridor to the elevator. My pulse quickened, and adrenaline was flooding my heart with hope. Grace then reminded us that Darien may not make it through surgery. A liver transplant was a very serious surgery, she said, and it had a lot of risks for even a stable patient. But I didn’t want to listen to her medical statistics or talk of risks. I was going to be happy for this step toward him not dying. An older-looking nurse hurried over to us and said that she would be the person keeping us updated during the liver transplant. She introduced herself as Joslin Peterson. She shook all our hands and said that the liver had been harvested from the donor and was on its way upstairs to where Darien was being prepped for the transplant. She then said that we could wait in the waiting room on the third floor. We all followed her to the elevator, and she escorted us to the waiting room. “I will be back in about a half hour to give you another update,” Joslin said before leaving the room. I thanked her, and we all sat down.

Six hours later, we were all still waiting. Joslin had appeared every half hour to update us on the transplant. Finally, after six and a half hours, Joslin walked into the waiting room with a big smile on her face. She announced that the transplant was complete. The surgeon was monitoring the new liver to make sure that it was functioning before he closed. Darien was doing well, and his vitals were improving. We all breathed a big sigh of relief and hugged each other. Joslin said that she would let us know when he was back in ICU. An hour later, Joslin poked her head back in and announced that we could head back to Darien’s room. When we exited the elevator, we saw several law enforcement officers standing by the door of Darien’s hospital room. I recognized Sheriff Madison among the policemen. He spotted me and started to walk toward us. He shook hands with me and Levi and said that they had

apprehended the shooter several hours before. He said that the press was all over the story, and reporters were staged outside the hospital with their news vans. It reminded me of when Blake had died and the media had parked outside my ranch for days, desperate for an interview with me. Sheriff Madison then asked if there was somewhere we could speak in private. I looked at Levi and then asked Nurse Joslin as she went into Darien’s room if she knew of a place. She said that there was a waiting room down the hall. Sheriff Madison left us and spoke briefly to the four state policemen who were standing nearby. Then he walked back over to us and told Levi and me to follow him down the hall to the waiting room. When we entered the room, it was empty. It was nearly midnight by this time, and I was starting to feel the effects of this long and emotional day. Sheriff Madison took a deep breath and then exhaled heavily. He took his small notepad out of his breast pocket and looked at his notes. The suspense was killing me, and it was obvious that the news he was about to tell us was unsettling. Over our shoulders, we saw two men in navy suits enter the waiting room. They were FBI, and after they introduced themselves, I knew that this was serious. Sheriff Madison handed the investigation details over to FBI Agent Walker. Agent Walker smiled and asked us to sit down in the two chairs near the window. He pulled up a chair from across the way and sat down. The other agent just stood by the door to make sure no one else came in. Agent Walker stated that the shooter had been apprehended and that they had identified him and discovered his connection with the victim. The agent then took a deep breath, like Sheriff Madison had done, and nodded his head up and down. He started off by saying that an Idaho state trooper had spotted the suspect’s vehicle on highway twenty heading north toward Island Park. A chase had ensued, and a trooper up ahead put down road spikes. The suspect’s tires were blown out. He lost control of the vehicle and drove off into the median and stopped. When the troopers arrived, the suspect opened fire on them, and shots were fired by both parties. After the suspect appeared to be down, the troopers rushed in. To their surprise, inside the vehicle, there was a female enger, who has been identified as the suspect’s wife. She had been hit in the left shoulder and the left thigh. The troopers were also shocked to discover that in the back seat of car, there was a young boy, who had, incredibly, remained unharmed in the shootout. He was curled up in a ball on the floor of the vehicle.

Levi and I looked at each other and just shook our heads in disbelief. Agent Walker continued. He said the shooter had been hit several times in his chest and head. He and his family were taken to this hospital, where the shooter died. The wife was treated for her gunshot wounds, which weren’t serious. “Who was this man?” I asked. Agent Walker looked straight at me and said that it was my deceased husband’s father. I shook my head. I didn’t understand. Why would Blake’s father shoot Darien? Agent Walker said the man’s name was Warren Michael Phelps, and he had learned about his son last year when the press revealed to the world how Blake had been conceived. “Oh my God.” It suddenly hit me, and I realized who they were talking about. Levi looked over at me, unsure why I had just said “oh my God.” “You mean Blake’s biological father? He’s the one who shot my brother?” I asked. “Yes,” Agent Walker stated. He then went on to tell us the rest of the story. He disclosed that they had just interviewed Mrs. Phelps for about two hours in her hospital bed. She had told the agents that she and Mr. Phelps had been living in Dillon, Montana, for the last forty years. She also told them about her husband’s troubled past and explained that he had gone to your ranch with a gun with an intention to kill. He said Mrs. Phelps was a weary looking, overweight woman in her early sixties. She had met her husband forty-two years ago, when she was working at a gas station just outside of Big Sky, Montana. Warren had been an over-the-road truck driver at the time, and he had asked her out on a date during their first meeting. The two got married only a few months later, and Mrs. Phelps said that the relationship had hit some bumps right off the bat. Warren had had a bad temper, and he had always been angry with her. He quit his job soon after they were married, and they just lived off of her small salary from the gas station. They were living in her dead mother’s old mobile home on five acres of land in a rural area just outside of town. Warren did get a check each month from the government, she noted, though it

wasn’t much. It was a disability check for his military service as a gunnery sergeant in the marine corps. He’d had served two tours in Vietnam as a snipper. He’d had over a hundred kills during his military career, but he was wounded at the end of his last tour. Warren had spent a month in a stateside VA hospital, where he recovered from a gunshot wound to his right thigh. Warren had been only twenty-one when he sexually assaulted the fourteen year old girl, Blake’s birth mother. He had been suffering from depression at the time and was doing drugs and drinking heavily. After the rape, Warren had fled to Montana to begin a new life drug and alcohol free. Mrs. Phelps confirmed that her husband was a troubled man. She had only stayed with him all these years because he didn’t have anyone else to love him. He had grown up in a group home for boys after his mother gave him up when he was six years old. He had itted that his mother was a whore and a mean drunk and that he had been happy when she left him at the home for boys. So sad. Warren had never known who his father was, she added, because his mother slept around a lot.

Agent Walker said he had asked Mrs. Phelps why her husband shot the young man on the horse? She had shaken her head in disgust and held back her tears. He was angry, she answered. He had seen the press about his son Blake, and it made him angry. He had to do something about it, he had declared. He had wanted for his son to rest in peace. He was most angry with Blake’s widow for the way she exploited his son’s mental illness. I was shocked by this but also saddened. Mrs. Phelps had gone on to say that Warren went to the ranch to kill Blake’s widow, Meredith, but when he saw the man riding the horse, Warren itted to her that he couldn’t resist taking the shot. He tried to shoot the widow next, but his rifle jammed, she had confessed, while weeping. She declared that she had tried to stop him, but when his mind was set on something, there was nothing she could do. Agent Walker said he told her that she could have called the police, and she had just shrugged her shoulders and wiped her tears from her face. This statement made me wince with disgust. She made it sound like Warren had had a deer in his crosshairs, not a human being. Yet, this man had been a trained killer, and human targets were his forte. Agent Walker confirmed that only a

person with sharpshooting skills could have hit a moving target at that distance. I was feeling a lot of guilt right about now, because it was my fault that Darien was down the hall fighting for his life. Levi knew what I was thinking. He touched my hand, peered into my eyes, and said, “This isn’t your fault Meredith.” He then kissed my hand. Agent Walker continued, telling us that the young boy in the car wasn’t their child. Mrs. Phelps said that when Warren found out last year that Blake was his child, he grew agitated and angry that he had missed out on his son’s life. Memories of his violent assault resurfaced, and he confessed to his wife what he had done forty-three years before to that innocent young girl. Not a day went by, he’d said, that he didn’t feel sorry for what he did. Nevertheless, he was also thankful that he was never caught and charged with the crime. Then, she said, one day in early November, Warren told her that they were going on a short trip. He wouldn’t tell her where they were going, she noted. They drove to Missoula, and he pulled up to a foster home that he had found online. Over the previous few weeks, he had been in with an adoption agency in Missoula. He had given them a false name and identity and told them that he and his wife wanted to adopt a little boy. They told him that it may take a year to complete the adoption process. Warren wasn’t going to wait, so they drove to the foster family’s home. He parked the car along the street. Warren then pulled a mask of former president Ronald Reagan over his face and stormed inside the house while waving a gun. Mrs. Phelps had waited in the car while her deranged husband kidnapped a child. Warren told her, that he had taken a few minutes to inspect all the children that were there and had chosen an eight-year-old boy, who he thought looked the most like his dead son, Blake. He’d grabbed the young boy by his arm and told him to come with him. All the children were screaming, and their foster mother stood with her hands up in the air. Her tears were rolling down her cheeks as she calmly told the children to be quiet. Warren had hurried out the front door with the terrified boy in his grips. He opened the back door of his four-door sedan, tossed the boy in the back seat, and then slammed the door shut. He yelled at his wife to lock the boy’s door and then ran to the driver side door and jumped in. He pulled off the mask and sped off down the road. They stopped at an old boneyard outside of Missoula and ditched

the sedan for a car that he had stashed there the week before. Before they left in the car, he carefully rubbed down the car for prints and cleaned out everything that was inside. It was a stolen car that he had bought from an old friend. It couldn’t be traced back to him. “I think I hearing about that story from Grace,” I said, looking at Levi. “Just crazy.” They had taken the child home, and over the past eight months, they had been a family. Warren had changed the boy’s name to Blake, and Lynn said that she had been homeschooling the boy. Warren hadn’t wanted him going to a public school for fear that someone would recognize him. Lynn had added, that the boy wouldn’t speak for about two months after he had been kidnapped. Warren had been angry and said that they had gotten a retarded kid and that he wanted to exchange him. Lynn had convinced him that the boy was just scared, and said she needed more time with him. “Where is the boy now?” I asked, my heart aching for this poor child. I couldn’t imagine what he had been though, and I knew that I had to do something to make it right. “He’s with Child Protective Services.” Agent Walker stated while looking down at his notes. I looked into Levi’s handsome blue eyes and then looked back at the FBI agent and said, “I want the boy …we want the boy. We want to adopt the boy. How can we do that?” I asked, my heart fluttering and my excitement building at the thought of Levi and me having our own son. “What? Meredith, are you serious? We don’t know anything about this kid. He might have some serious mental problems. My God, he’s been living with these psychopaths for months,” Levi replied. “Levi, I don’t care. I can’t explain it, but … we need to help this child. It’s the right thing to do. And I think having a child in our lives would only make life better,” I said, peering into his eyes. “You’re right. I guess I’m just a little scared,” he confessed while holding my hand.

“It’s okay to be scared. So am I. But it wouldn’t be right to let our fear stop us from doing the right thing,” I remarked. “So, Agent Walker, can you help us? What is the first step to adopting this child?” “Well, I can give you the name of the gal who was assigned to his case and let her explain the process.” “Great!” I was more than excited. I kissed Levi on the lips and waited for Agent Walker to write down the information that we needed. Levi and I hurried back to Darien’s room to see how he was doing. Darien was awake, and the doctors had removed his breathing tube. He was still a little groggy from the pain meds, but he was alert and happy. When we walked in, Grace was smiling and laughing while holding Darien’s right hand. She had told him briefly what had happened, but hadn’t gone into details of the shooting. That could wait, she thought, until he was out of the hospital. “Hey, you don’t look like an Oompa Loompa anymore,” I teased as I leaned over and kissed his forehead. Darien smiled and tried to laugh, but it hurt. His throat was sore from the breathing tube, he managed to say. Grace grabbed the cup of water and helped him drink from the straw. Owen then walked in and said that Darien’s new liver was functioning normally and everything looked good. I turned around and hugged Owen and whispered in his ear, “Thank you.” “I told you that I would save him,” Owen said with a sheepish grin. “Yes, you did, but you had to wait until the last minute,” I taunted. Owen then took me by the arm and said that he had to talk with me in the hallway. I was confused, but I followed him out into the hallway and away from the others. “What’s up, Doc? I’ve always wanted to say that … I’m sorry.” Owen smiled and took my hands in his. He peered into my happy eyes. “Now you’re scaring me, Owen. What are you trying to tell me?” I asked.

“The donor … I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but … I just found out that the liver belonged to Warren Phelps, Blake’s father. Before he was taken off life , his wife, Lynn, signed the form that donated all his viable organs.” Owen’s voice was hushed. “Oh my God, Owen. What a strange coincidence. Was his liver healthy?” I asked, now worried. “Yes. The man was in his sixties, but it looked good,” Owen declared with confidence. “There was no sign of disease.” “Can I tell everyone? Wait, I’m not sure if Darien should know this. I’m not sure how he would take it. What do you think?” I asked. “I wouldn’t. The man tried to murder him, and now that man’s liver is inside Darien,” Owen whispered. “That’s some serious shit.” “You’re right. Now that you’ve said out loud, it’s obvious he’s better off not knowing. I don’t think I’ll tell Grace either,” I replied. I walked back into Darien’s room and ed everyone. Levi said that we should all let Darien rest and get a hotel room down the street. I agreed, and Maddy and John seconded it. Grace said that she was going to stay there with Darien. The next morning, Levi and I woke up at around nine o’clock. I quickly called Grace to see how Darien was doing. She said that he was doing great and that the doctors wanted him to get out of bed and walk sometime today. Owen had told them that Darien would be in the hospital for about a week. After that, they would see if he could go home, though he would need to make weekly hospital visits for a month. It would be a long, slow recovery, but he was strong and had a reason to fight. That reason was Grace. His life would return to normal with no limitations after about three months.

I hung up with Grace and dialed the number that Agent Walker had given to me for the woman at Child Protective Services. The woman answered her phone, and I quickly explained who I was and why I was calling. The social worker seemed quite surprised by my request to adopt the young boy that she’d just taken in yesterday. She quickly commented that she hadn’t had time to talk with

him because he was quite traumatized, after the shootout with police. The nurses had had to pull him away from Mrs. Phelps when they arrived at the hospital, she added. The boy had been given a light sedative to help him rest once he had arrived at their center. They’d had to give him a change of clothes, because his were soiled with blood from Mr. Phelp’s fatal wounds. The boy had been put in the care of a psychiatrist, who would evaluate his mental state. The social worker seemed guarded at the thought of Levi and I meeting him so soon. I asked her what difference it would make if we met him today or next week. The boy had gone thought some serious trauma over the past several months, but he had also come from a foster home. God only knows what those living condition were like. I went on to say, that I didn’t want him shuffled off to another foster home only to become another number in the system. I explained that Levi and I were willing to do whatever it took to fast-track the adoption process. The social worker then asked me if Levi and I were married. I paused for a few seconds and looked at Levi, who had heard what she had asked. He just smiled and nodded his head yes. “We can be, if that helps,” I answered. She said that the judge would require it and that there would have to be an investigation into both our personal lives. I told her that wasn’t a problem. Just tell us what we had to do. She wanted to meet with Levi and me that afternoon to get more information and explain more about the adoption process. I asked her again if we would be able to meet and speak with the boy. She said it all depended upon what his mental state was this morning. She would be speaking with his doctor as soon as she got off the phone with me. We agreed to meet at her office at around two o’clock in the afternoon and said goodbye. Levi and I were both crying tears of joy as we envisioned the day when this boy would be coming home to be our son. “Well, it’s only nine thirty, which gives us plenty of time to go to the county clerk’s office and get married,” Levi announced while holding me. I kissed him hard on the lips and jumped up from the bed to go shower. I only

had the clothes from the day before, and they were dirty and smelly. Even so, I didn’t care, because I was about to marry my one true love. We stopped by the hospital before we drove downtown to get married. Darien and Grace were laughing together as she propped up his pillow. Grace kissed him on the lips and ran her fingers through his hair, teasing him that he was getting a lot of gray hairs. Maddy and John were sitting in the two chairs. Maddy was on her phone talking with Karen, getting an update on how everything was going at home. Karen had told Maddy that her mother had come about an hour before and had brought Maddy’s boys back to her house in Jackson. Maddy’s movers were scheduled to come tomorrow, and I told her to go ahead, because Darien was doing fine. Darien was happy to see us, and it was amazing how great he looked having just had a liver transplant. I told everyone that Levi and I had an announcement to make. They all looked at us with big smiles and waited to hear our news. “Levi and I are getting married!” I announced as I peered into Levi’s eyes. He kissed me and held me close. “Oh my God, you guys. That’s great!” Grace screamed. “Nice job, bro,” Darien said to Levi. Maddy and John stood up and congratulated us. Maddy told Karen that she had to go and hung up. I asked Maddy and John if they would come with us to the county courthouse in Idaho Falls to be our witnesses. They quickly said yes and hugged us both. I told Maddy that they could go home as soon as we were done getting married. I didn’t want to hold up their move. “Wait, you’re getting married right now?” Grace asked, looking confused. “Yup,” I answered with a big smile. “Okay, I can see why, with Darien almost dying and all, but—” “We’ll tell you everything later, but right now we need to get to the chapel, so to speak.” Grace and Darien looked confused by our hurry to get married, but I pushed

Maddy and John out the door and said that we would be back later that afternoon.

When we got out to the truck, we realized that Maddy and John didn’t have a way to get home. Levi had driven them to the hospital in his truck. We told them that we would drive them back to the ranch and then drive back to the hospital. John said that they could just rent a car and then return it in Jackson Hole the next day. Levi wouldn’t let them do that, so it was settled. I told Maddy that I wanted to get Blue and bring her to Darien and Grace anyway. Darien was being moved from the ICU to a private room today, and I was sure that Grace could pull some strings so Blue could stay in Darien’s room with them. The four of us walked up the courthouse stairs, and once inside, we went to the county clerk’s office to get our marriage license. We filled out all the paperwork, paid our thirty dollars, and asked where we could find a judge to marry us. The young gal told us that if we went down to the court clerk’s office, they could marry us. We didn’t have anything like flowers, rings, or vows, but it was exciting to be so spontaneous. Levi held my hand and kissed me as we walked up to the court clerk window. The older woman there said good morning and asked what she could help us with. I asked her if she could marry us. Her face lit up, and her jolly grin made us all laugh. “You have come to the right place, and I see you already have your two witnesses. Wonderful. Let me see your license … great. We can perform the ceremony back here; just come through that door over there.” She pointed to the door down the hall. I was getting excited, and my palms were sweaty as Levi’s hand gripped mine. Maddy and John followed us through the door and inside a small room. The court clerk asked if we had any vows or words to say to each other. Levi and I just looked at each other and then back at her, our faces revealing our unpreparedness. “I see. You didn’t have time to write anything. I see that a lot. No problem. I will cast my little spell of words in your honor and say all the legal mumbo jumbo that the state requires. Then if you two want to say a few words to each other,

that’s fine.” She smiled again and had Maddy and John sign as witnesses to our legal marriage in the state of Idaho. It didn’t take long for the marriage to be complete, and when the court clerk was finished, she smiled at Levi and me and asked if we wanted to say anything. I nodded and turned to face Levi, holding his clammy hands in mine. “They say that life is a circle and that life begins with a prayer of love and hopefulness. That circle is complete only when God feels that we have met the expectations that he has set for us. Those expectations are to show love and acceptance toward all others. My circle of life has brought me back to the person who has fulfilled all my expectations and more. I thank God for all that is good, for you, Levi Wagner, and for our new life together. May we embrace our dreams and continue our love for eternity.” As I said this, tears were rolling down my cheeks. “Wow, how do I follow that?” Levi said as tears welled up in his blue eyes. We all giggled at his remark. The court clerk remarked, “You said you didn’t have anything, darling, but that was so beautiful.” I looked into Levi’s eyes, and he then spoke. “Meredith Blackman, today is a day that I’ve been dreaming about for over fifteen years. I believe in second chances, and with the help of God and your brother Darien, I have been given a second chance with you, my bride to be. I am proud to be your husband and soon, I hope, a father. If this boy is meant to be our son, I know for a fact that he will be so deeply loved by his forever mother. You deserve all the love that we, your husband and son, can give you, and there is no limit to that love.” I was crying when Levi finished, and so was everyone else. The court clerk lifted her fogged-up glasses and wiped away her tears with a tissue. She then managed to say, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” Levi and I held each other and kissed while Maddy, John, and the clerk clapped. We were now legally married, and I was now Mrs. Wagner. It was important to me that I took Levi’s name, because I wanted our son and me to have the same last name.

We dropped off Maddy and John at the ranch and got back on the road. I held baby Blue on my lap as we drove back to Idaho Falls. We pulled into the hospital parking lot, and I stuffed Blue under my light jacket, which I had brought from home. We asked the receptionist what room Darien was now in. She said that he had been moved to room twenty-five on the second floor. I pushed open the door to his room. He and Grace were both napping. The television was on, but the volume was turned down. I quietly walked up to Darien and held Blue up to his face so she could lick his cheek. I saw a smile form on his sleepy face, and then he opened his eyes to see his puppy staring back at him. “I thought I smelled puppy breath,” he said as he took her from me. Grace woke when she heard Darien speak. “Oh, you brought her. Thank you!” Grace said as she watched Darien snuggle Blue. I looked at my watch and noticed that it was almost one thirty. We had an appointment with the social worker in a half hour. I didn’t want to say anything to them yet, not until we met with the social worker. Also, Darien didn’t know the whole story with the boy. We’d had to tell Maddy and John, because after our wedding vows, they were both very confused. Maddy knew that I wasn’t able to bear children, so they knew I wasn’t pregnant. Maddy promised not to say anything to anyone until we had more news. “Levi and I are now legally married, but we can’t stay, because we have things to do,” I said, not having a good lie to tell. Grace and Darien looked at me strangely and then looked at Levi, who just smiled and walked out of the room. “We’ll be back later. Have fun with your girls, Darien,” I yelled as I followed Levi.

I was more nervous going to meet the social worker than I had been getting

married. The social worker had told me to go to the Idaho Health and Welfare Department building. It was a warm and sunny day. Levi and I walked hand in hand up the stairs and inside the building. Inside, we were met by a pleasantlooking receptionist, who asked us to sign in. I proudly wrote down Mr. and Mrs. Wagner. I looked up at Levi, and he smiled and kissed my cheek. We sat down and waited to meet the social worker, Natalie Forbes. After about fifteen minutes, Natalie opened the door to her office and asked us to come inside. Ms. Forbes was an African American woman in her late forties. She was heavyset with gray hair that was straightened and cut chin length. Her reading glasses were resting on the brim of her wide nose as she smiled and motioned for us to take a seat in the two chairs opposite her large, metal desk. She basically wanted me to reiterate everything I had said while talking with her that morning. I don’t think that Ms. Forbes had been persuaded that we wanted to adopt a child we’d never seen or met before. I gave her a more detailed story about what had happened the day before and how we were tragically connected to this little boy. When I was finished with my run down of Darien’s shooting and his liver transplant, Ms. Forbes looked shocked and flabbergasted. I think she then understood why we felt responsible for this little boy’s fate. I told her that I had been born without a uterus, so having my own child was never an option. I then showed her our signed marriage license. She listened intently and told us that it was the state’s goal to find a home for any foster child as soon as possible. With that being said, there were rules and processes that had to be followed before a child could be adopted. She pointed out that the child had been in foster care in the state of Montana and was now in the protective custody of the state of Idaho. She noticed that we lived in Wyoming. I asked if any of this was a problem, and she said it just meant a lot more paperwork and red tape. I told her that we were ready, and that we would comply with whatever they needed. She answered by saying that she would feel more comfortable if we first had a chance to meet the boy and then went from there. Levi and I agreed to her . Ms. Forbes then said that the boy was doing well, considering what he had just been though. I asked if he had witnessed the shooting of my brother. Ms. Forbes peered up at us and gave us a look that told us the answer to my question. Ms. Forbes went on to say that the boy couldn’t have seen much, because of the distance. It was instead the car chase and

shootout with the police that had him terrified. The boy had, regrettably, witnessed the man he called his father being shot in the head by police, she emphasized. He was in their art room with several other young children, she said, changing the subject. Ms. Forbes then said that she would take us there now, and she would observe. Levi and I followed her down the hall and into a private area where there were separate bedrooms and common areas. The people at the center did their best to make it homey, but it was far from that. The children knew this wasn’t home. The walls were dirty, and the floors were dated, evidence of shortfalls in government funding. We walked into a large, bright room with big windows and long tables where several children were painting with water colors and crayons. The walls had murals of happy Disney characters and colorful trees, lakes, and towering mountains. It was a happy place, I thought, as Levi and I stood and watched the children create. Some of the children were talking, and I even heard one of the girls giggling as she painted the hand of another young boy, who I assumed was her brother. These were children who had been living in such deplorable conditions that the state had had to take them away from their parents. God only knows what these innocent little lives have been through, I thought. Ms. Forbes pointed to a boy with dark brown hair, who was sitting by himself at one of the long tables near the windows. His back was to us, and he appeared to be drawing the trees he saw from the window. I would see him stop and look out the window and then look back down at his paper. Ms. Forbes smiled and motioned for us to go over and talk with him. Levi and I held hands and walked toward him. I stood next to the boy and asked him if we could sit next to him. He looked surprised and peered up at Levi and me. Then he quickly turned away to look back at his drawing. I pulled the chair next to him out and sat down. Levi did the same and sat across from me and the boy. I looked at his drawing, which was in pencil. It was of a frightening tree, all twisted and gnarly. There were black eraser shavings all over the edge of his paper, and pencil lead was smeared on his hands. “You like to climb trees?” I asked, taking some crayons and paper from the box

in the middle of the table. No answer. “When I was little, my brother and I would climb these big trees that had branches that grew straight out, and we would straddle the branches and ride them like they were horses. We called it the jungle,” I said, while drawing my own tree. “Where’s my mom?” he asked, halfway looking at me. His long bangs shaded his sad eyes. “I think she’s in the hospital, but she will be fine,” I stated. “My dad is dead,” he announced in a sad voice without looking up. “What is your name?” I asked, changing the subject. “Blake,” he replied without emotion. “No, I mean, what is your real name, the name you had when you were born?” I asked as I drew the branches of my tree. He looked puzzled by my question, but he sat and thought about it. “Eli … Eli Robert Nickerson,” he said. This time he looked into my eyes, and I saw a half smile appear on his face. He had big, brown eyes, dark-brown hair, and thick, beautiful eyebrows and lashes. He had a round face with an adorable square chin that had a slight cleft. His hair was shaggy and overgrown, and I noticed that his fingernails were long and filled with dirt. He could be Darien’s child, I thought as I saw him look over at Levi. He now seemed curious as to who we were. “Eli, what a great name. My name is Meredith, and this is my husband, Levi.” Eli looked at us again, but this time he didn’t look away. Instead he stared at us. His confused face made me want to reach out and hold him, yet I knew that it would take time to get to that point. Right now, we just wanted him to trust us, and for that to happen, there had to be no expectations. He peered down at the tree I had drawn and then looked back at me and smiled. I had drawn a large, tall tree with many branches and leaves. Under the tree was me, Levi, and Eli holding hands and smiling. I had written our names above us. I

then drew two black dogs and wrote Emmy and Stretch above them. Eli watched me draw. Then he reached over to grab a yellow crayon and drew a big sun above my family tree. “You like dogs, Eli?” I asked while I filled in Emmy’s black color. “Yes … I love all animals, but my parents are allergic,” he noted with regret as he filled in the yellow sun with the crayon. “That’s too bad,” I said with my own regret. “Would you like to meet our animals? We have two dogs, Emmy and Stretch, ten horses, and seven goats.” Eli’s face lit up when he heard me invite him to meet our animals. His smile was contagious, and Levi and I smiled in return. I noticed that his two, big front teeth had come in, and he had a wide gap in between them. I thought it was so adorable. “I will ask my mom when she gets out of the hospital,” he stated before grabbing a green crayon. I wanted to take him home right that minute, but I knew it would take time for him to become more comfortable around us. I also knew that once he was told that the woman he had known as his mother for the past nine months was going to jail, he would pull back again. Ms. Forbes came over and told Eli that it was story time. This was our cue that our time with Eli was up. “Eli, I hope that we can be friends. We will be back tomorrow to see you again. Is that okay?” I asked while standing. Eli paused and looked at Ms. Forbes for his answer. She smiled at him and nodded yes. “Okay,” Eli replied. “Eli, I want you to have this.” I gave him my drawing. He took it and said thank you. “See you tomorrow, Eli,” Levi said, meeting his eyes. Eli looked up at Levi and gave him a shy smile. Then he followed Ms. Forbes

over to the library down the hall. Levi and I were ecstatic as we watched Eli leave the room. We went back to Ms. Forbes office and waited for her. When she returned, her smile told us that she thought that things had gone well. “He really liked you two. He asked me if you had lost your parents too,” Ms. Forbes said before sitting down in her chair. “We absolutely love him and we would like to go ahead and fill out the application,” I declared, my excitement mounting. “Okay, then, I will get everything rolling. In the meantime, if you like, you can come and visit with him so he can get to know you. There will have to be a home study done, along with a background check on the both of you. After that, you will be fingerprinted, and we will need your medical and financial records. There will also be a mental evaluation done on you both. I will speak with the doctor and ask him when he will tell Eli about Mrs. Phelps. There will surely be a setback when he learns that another person in his life is gone. As you know, we want to make sure that this adoption is final. There are no returns, if you know what I mean,” Ms. Forbes stated with the upmost seriousness. Levi told her that Eli was going to be our son and that we would love him forever. Ms. Forbes nodded and smiled. “Great. Then I will keep you updated on everything.” She slid out her chair and shook both our hands.

Once we were in the truck, Levi told me that he was going to hire a family law attorney to help us expedite the process and to protect us from anyone in the future who might try to claim him. We also wanted to know his history and why he had been given up to the state. Our plan was to drive to Idaho Falls every morning to visit Eli, as well as to visit Darien while he was still in the hospital. Our foundation would have to come second right now, until we had Eli home. Besides, the foundation’s mission statement still had to be written by our legal team and doctors, so we had some down time until that was completed. Levi and I talked about when we would tell Grace and Darien about adopting

Eli. We decided to tell them at the end of the week, when Darien was discharged from the hospital. That way, we would know more about the timeline and when we thought we would be able to bring Eli home.

Levi and I decided to drive home, so we could help Maddy and John get their things settled in their new home. I had already moved most of my things over to Levi’s, or should I say, our home. We were newlyweds, and we wanted to celebrate. I also wanted to start planning out Eli’s bedroom. There was a great interior designer Levi knew in Jackson who specialized in children’s theme rooms. Over the next few weeks, we could get an idea of what his interests were and use that information to design a special room for him. I told Levi that this would be his first real home, and I wanted it to be special.

When we drove up to the ranch, Maddy and John were busy helping the movers unload their big truck. The boys were playing with the dogs in the front yard. They had three dogs of their own, so there were five dogs for the boys to play with. Levi and I hugged them both, and they asked how our meeting with the social worker had gone. We told them everything, and they were so excited for us. Maddy said her boys would have a new cousin, and we were both happy that Eli would have family so close. Levi and I then went to check on our horses, who were all in the back pasture grazing happily on the summer grass. Maddy’s new horse, Soldier, was in with her other four horses in the front pasture, and they all looked happy in their new place. Galileo had been introduced to my herd, and they all seemed well adjusted. I went over to the fence and put my fingers in my mouth and whistled. All seven horses lifted their heads high in the air and looked our way. It was Traveller who started walking to us first. After that was Geronimo, and then the others followed. I whistled again, and this time Geronimo started to gallop toward us. The others then picked up a canter, and a few of them bucked and jumped in the air. Levi and I were laughing as we watched how beautiful they looked at liberty. When they arrived at the fence to greet us, they were blowing out their noses and nodding their heads, while Traveller, the herd leader, reminded them all to keep their distance. Galileo stood at the edge of the herd, unsure of what to do.

I gave each of them two sugar cubes and a loving rub on the nose. I told them that it was all gone, and all six horses walked off to graze. My newcomer, Galileo, then slowly crept our way, smelling and staring at us. I called him over and held out my hand with sugar cubes in it. Galileo came to me but with caution. I told Levi that I needed to start working with Galileo soon. I wanted him ready for lesson within a few weeks.

It was my first night in our home, and we spent the night grilling steaks on the grill and relaxing on the back porch while watching the setting sun reflecting off the snow-covered mountains to the East. We watched Levi’s horses grazing in the pasture and listened to the crickets chirping in the grass. It was so peaceful and quiet, with only the faint sounds of nature touching our ears. I closed my eyes and listened to the crickets and the creek babbling across the way. A light breeze would catch the leaves of the towering cottonwood trees, making a sound like rain. Levi told me that he’d spotted a fox at the end of the pasture. I opened my eyes and saw the fox slinking along the fence line with its ears to the ground. I wondered if it was Tink, the female fox that had called my ranch home for about four years now. Yet, I could tell by its size that this fox was a male. A good sign, I thought, because that would mean that Tink would have a mate. Emmy and Stretch were sleeping on their bed next to us on the porch. Emmy loved her new home, and best of all, she now had a best buddy. As Levi and I sat here, I couldn’t help but imagine Eli living here, playing with the dogs and the goats. I envisioned me teaching him how to ride and him becoming a seasoned rider before long. The thought of us being a family made me feel content and happy as I snuggled up to Levi on the porch swing.

The next morning, Levi and I were up early. We were both excited to see Eli again. We arrived at the Idaho Falls Health and Welfare building and then realized that it was Friday. According to their sign, their offices would be closed over the weekend. I looked at Levi and knew that he was thinking what I was thinking, which was that we wouldn’t be able to see Eli for two days. We hoped that maybe we could arrange something with Ms. Forbes so we could see him.

Ms. Forbes was waiting for us when we walked into her office. She said that she had gotten the ball rolling and that things should progress quickly. Levi told her that he was going to hire a family law attorney to represent us. She said that was just fine and that there were several great attorneys in Idaho Falls that could help us. She went on to say, that Eli had been told that Mrs. Phelps was going to jail for taking him from the foster home. He’d had a lot of questions for the doctor, and he was having a hard time understanding why she was going to jail if they took him to be their son. It seems that Mr. and Mrs. Phelps had told Eli that they had saved him and that it had been God’s wish for them to have him as their child. Eli didn’t seem to understand what kidnapping was or why he would never see his mom again. The doctor had explained it to him again, until he had a better understanding of what had happened to him. He now knew his dad died because he’d shot a man and then shot at police. The doctor told Eli that his mom had played a role in the shooting and that she was in trouble for that also. Ms. Forbes said Eli was upset but that he didn’t cry. He did ask the doctor if his new friends were coming today. I smiled at Levi, and we both were excited to see him again. Ms. Forbes said that Eli and the other six children that were there would be moving to foster homes nearby in Idaho Falls. She wrote down the address of the home where Eli was going, the names of the foster parents, and their phone number. It saddened me to think that Eli would have to go to another foster home. He was being shuffled around like an object, I thought. I knew Levi could tell that this new information was bothering me, because he then squeezed my hand. He didn’t want me to go off on this social worker, because if I did, it would quickly change her mind. So, I bit my lip and just told myself to calm down. I asked her if we could take Eli to a park or the zoo. Ms. Forbes paused and then said that it was against the rules for us to take a child until the entire adoption process was complete. Again, Levi squeezed my hand, but this time he was the one who spoke. “I understand why you have these rules Ms. Forbes, but it’s important for us to establish a relationship with Eli. We can’t do that if we are all just sitting in a room. Eli needs to run around outside and be an eight-year-old boy, and we want to share with him and get to know him in his world, which is playing in trees,

playing ball, or petting animals at the zoo. We welcome you to come with us, if you’re afraid we might take him or unsure about something else.” I was so proud of him and his heartfelt speech. Ms. Forbes smiled and said that she understood why we wanted to take Eli somewhere happier and more fun, but she couldn’t change the rules. She was very sorry. So with that, the three of us walked down the gloomy hallway to the art room. Eli was there in the same spot, but this time he was facing the door, waiting for us. His face lit up when he saw Levi and me walk into the room. He stood up and waved at us and said, “I’m over here.” I said, “Good morning, Eli,” and waved back at him. Levi then walked up to him and put his hand out for Eli to shake. “Eli, my man!” Eli smiled wide and reached out his right hand to shake Levi’s hand. “Good grip,” Levi added. “So what should we do today?” I asked, the two of us nearly eye to eye. Eli was tall for his age, but then again, I was short for my age. “Can we climb the trees outside?” Eli asked as he looked and pointed to the tall trees outside the windows. We all looked over to Ms. Forbes, and she smiled and said it was fine if we went outside. There was a small courtyard and picnic table. Eli looked excited as he took my and Levi’s hands and started to pull us to the door. The trees outside were mostly elm trees, and I told him that they weren’t the easiest trees to climb. However, there was a four-story Douglas fir, which would be easier to climb. The closest branches were about six feet up, and I wasn’t eight years old anymore. Eli stood and watched me scoot my way up in the tree, with a little help from Levi. I thought I felt my jeans split as I hauled my thirty-seven-year-old frame up in the branches. I was out of breath and out of my league, I thought, as I told Eli to come on up. Levi then went down on all fours and told Eli to stand on his back. Eli did as he was told and jumped up on Levi’s back. I heard Levi groan when Eli’s eightysomething-pound body landed on his back. I couldn’t help but giggle a little. I reached for Eli’s hands and helped him up into the tree. I then explained to him how to look for the right branches to climb up on. I said it was like climbing a

ladder; each branch was a rung to grab with your hands or to step up on. He listened carefully and had a big smile on his face the entire time. I, on the other hand, was feeling out of my element. I was kicking myself for asking him if he liked to climb trees. Levi stayed on the ground, mainly because he didn’t like heights and because we needed someone on the ground just in case I fell. Before long, Eli had ed me in the tree and was about forty feet up, looking like a pro. I noticed that my hands were covered with pine sap, as were my jeans, and I wasn’t looking forward to climbing back down. “Come on, Meredith. The view up here is amazing,” Eli yelled, peering down at me through the boughs. I smiled at Levi and told him to take good care of our boy if I died. Levi shook his head and laughed. I made my way up to Eli, and I have to say, he was right. The view was great. We could see the river and the greenbelt off in the distance. To our surprise, Levi was scaling his way up the thick branches and heading our way. Eli was so excited that Levi had ed us. We made room for Levi next to us, and we all sat and enjoyed the bird’s-eye view of everything around us. We could see people walking on the greenbelt with their dogs and others picnicking on the grass. We decided to play I spy, and Eli had us beat, three to one. The wind started to pick up, and we could feel the towering pine start to sway. The tree’s long boughs moved up and down. We sort of felt like we were on a ship now, as we swayed back and forth. Eli was laughing and enjoying every minute. It wasn’t long before Eli opened up to us. I guess there’s something about being in a tree that brings out the need to express your feelings. He told us that his mom was going to jail and that he was never going to see her again. He now looked sad as he peered out across the horizon. I told him that we were sorry about his mom and dad. I then looked at Levi and wondered if we should tell Eli our plan to adopt him. We had never really talked to Ms. Forbes about when we would tell him. Levi seemed to know what I thinking, because he shook his head no. Levi was right; it was too soon to tell Eli about our plan to adopt him. He needed time to get to know us better before he thought being his parents.

“I am going to a foster home this afternoon,” Eli announced, looking sad. He then looked at us again and asked, “Did you know my mom?” I looked at Levi and then back at Eli. I didn’t know what to say. It was difficult to have this conversation, because he didn’t understand that these people, who he called his parents, were in fact horrible people. But I couldn’t tell Eli that, because in his mind, he thought that they were good and that they had saved him. I just said, “Your mom wants you to be happy, and we want to help you with that.” Eli seemed content with my answer, but still he wasn’t sure about what his future would be. Children mostly live in the here and now, and it is difficult for them to think about the future. “I don’t want to go to that new foster home. The kids are always mean to me,” Eli confessed. It broke my heart to hear him say this, but there was nothing we could do. “Well, if it helps, just that we will come and see you every day.” I reached out and touched his face with my hand. He didn’t pull away but instead welcomed my touch. “Hey, how about we go to the zoo tomorrow?” Levi said, changing the subject. “Yeah, and then we can get some ice cream,” Eli added with this arms in the air. “They have a great mini golf course there at the zoo. We could play that and then have ice cream,” I announced. The wind was getting stronger, and I could see Ms. Forbes standing below at the base of the tree looking concerned. I told Eli that we had to head back down the tree. We followed Levi and grabbed the same branches he did. The height was now making me a little nervous as we slowly descended back down to earth. Once on the ground, Levi asked Ms. Forbes if we could take Eli to the zoo the next day. She looked upset by our question, because she had just told us that it was against the rules and because he asked her in front of Eli. “Please, Ms. Forbes. Please,” Eli begged while putting his hands together like he was praying.

Ms. Forbes, said that we could discuss it with Eli’s new foster mother and father and get their . We were all being careful to not mention the word adoption in front of Eli. “Great, Eli. We have to go, but we will be over tomorrow morning to talk with your foster parents. And hopefully we can take you to the zoo,” I stated, before hugging him. Levi hugged Eli after me and told him to be strong. Eli smiled and said, “Yes, sir,” before giving Levi a high five. I was sure that Eli was dreading going to another stranger’s home, where there were other children from homes much worse than his. I’d heard horror stories of children in foster care who were abused or neglected. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t be for long, I told myself. Levi and I turned and walked away, but I stopped and turned back around to look at him one last time before we left. Eli smiled and waved at me. I yelled, “I’ll bring a camera tomorrow so you can take pictures of the animals.” Eli opened his mouth and expressed his joy. He then looked up at Ms. Forbes and gave her a big grin. He waved again and said, “See you tomorrow!”

Levi and I went inside and tried to wash the pine sap off our hands in the bathroom, but we discovered it would take something a lot stronger than soap. We then drove to the hospital to see Darien and Grace. When we arrived, Darien wasn’t in his room, so we sat down in the chairs and waited for them to return. Levi then got a call on his cell phone. It was the attorney he had called the day before. Levi took the call and walked out into the hallway. Just then, Darien and Grace ed Levi in the hallway. Levi waved and then ducked down another hallway so he could talk in private. “Hey, it’s good to see you up and about,” I said before I stood and hugged Darien and Grace. Grace was holding little Blue, and when she saw me, she got excited and squirmed in Grace’s arms, trying to get down. Grace put her down and closed the door to Darien’s room so she couldn’t get out. It was against hospital rules for

her to be there, but Grace and Owen had persuaded the staff to let Blue stay. “Why do you smell like pine trees?” Darien asked as he shuffled his way over to his bed. His hospital gown was gaping open in the back, and I could see his bare, white bum. “Oh, Levi and I were clearing some trees this morning. I must have gotten some sap on me. So when are you getting out of this place?” I asked, changing the subject. Darien sat on the edge of his bed, while Blue ran around the room with Grace chasing after her. The look on his face told me that he knew I was lying. “What?” I asked. Then I grabbed Blue and picked her up to kiss her. “You don’t have pine trees on your property,” Darien remarked with a smile. “Okay … well, if you have to know …” I was stumbling over my words. “You’re adopting the boy. We know … well, we put two and two together: the impromptu wedding, running off here and there, not telling us where you were going … Grace and I think it’s a very honorable and wonderful thing, what you guys are doing. And congratulations,” Darien said. “How did you know about the boy?” I asked as I snuggled with Blue. “Sheriff Madison was here yesterday, and he told us everything,” Grace announced. “Just tragic about the boy being kidnapped at gunpoint from that foster home. I hearing about it on the news.” “Yeah, I you telling me about it,” I added. I told them that we had met with Eli twice and that we really wanted to take him home. I explained that it may take some time but that we planned to see him every day, so he could get to know us. “Have you told him yet that you’re going to adopt him?” “No, not yet. We want to wait until he gets to know us better. He just found out that his mother, Mrs. Phelps, is going to jail … and he’s going to a new foster

home today.” “Poor kid. The faster you can adopt him, the better,” Grace said. “Levi’s talking with a family law attorney right now.” “Well, that should help speed things up,” Darien replied. “When were you going to tell us?” Grace asked. “We were going to wait until the end of Darien’s hospital stay. I wasn’t sure if Darien knew the whole story of what happened,” I said, looking over at Darien. Darien looked down at the floor and then over at me. His face appeared troubled. I knew that he had been through his own trauma. It was a big deal knowing that someone had looked through the crosshairs of a powerful rifle and shot you and that this person was your brother-in-law’s birth father. There was still one piece of this tragic story that I didn’t ever want Darien to know, however, and that was that he now had the liver of that shooter in his body. Ironically, the man who tried to kill him had saved Darien’s life. “Darien, I have to tell you how sorry I am. I never in a million years would have thought that something like this would happen when I went to the press with Blake’s story. That bullet was meant for me, and if his gun hadn’t jammed when it did, I’d likely be dead,” I expressed with tears in my eyes. “Hey, I would take a bullet for you any day, little sis. I needed a new liver anyway. I fucked mine up with whiskey. Maybe this was fate,” Darien joked. I smiled and then stood up and give him a hug. “Well, Darien and I have our own news, but I would like to wait until Levi is here before we—” “I’m here. What’s your news?” Levi said as he closed the door behind him. “Well, I am pregnant!” Grace announced. The smile on her face expressed her happiness. “Oh my God! Are you sure? Grace, that’s … oh my God. I can’t believe it.

Darien, I told you to use protection,” I joked through my happy tears. I hugged them both and looked at Levi, who did the same. “I’m about six weeks along. We wanted to wait to tell you, because at my age it’s better to wait until you’re twelve weeks or more,” Grace said as she stood by Darien, who had climbed back in bed holding Blue. “Yeah, you’re pretty old, Grace. Forty is old for having babies, but you’re healthy and in love,” I commented. “Well, thank you for agreeing with me that I am old, and we are keeping our fingers crossed that I don’t miscarry.” I could tell that Grace had been stressing about this matter, and I felt bad that I hadn’t there for her. “Hey, Grace, this baby is destined to be a part of this crazy family. Believe me. Eli will have a cousin, and he will teach your little boy or girl all the naughty things he shouldn’t,” I teased while touching her face. “And you two better get married so this child isn’t a bastard.” “I told Darien that I wanted to wait until after the baby was born, maybe next summer,” Grace said as she sat next to Darien on his bed. Darien had a big smile on his face, and I knew he was overjoyed at the thought of being a dad and a husband. In only four months, my and Darien’s lives had made a drastic 180. We would never have thought that the two of us would be parents. Our painful childhood reminded us how important loving parents were, and we would make it our goal to raise our children in a home filled with unconditional love.

Three weeks ed, and it was early September. Darien was back working part time at the resort restaurant in town. Grace’s pregnancy was going well, considering her age and work stress. Owen was taking on a lot of her responsibilities for the time being so she could focus on the baby and her health. At her age, there was a high risk of the baby having Down syndrome. She was going to have a blood test to rule this out. I know Darien and Grace were really worried about it, but also they were concerned that she may miscarry.

Our adoption of Eli was going to be final the next day, and Levi and I were putting the finishing touches on his bedroom. I was so excited that I couldn’t contain myself, so to let off some of that pent up energy, I drove over to Maddy’s ranch. We spent about two hours schooling our new horses from . Galileo was a dream to ride and jump. He was living up to all my expectations and more. Our students loved riding him, and he was teaching them a lot. Maddy and I already had five new students, who had started a week ago. So far, we had fifteen students between us. I had moved all my other horses over to our place, and they were getting along with Levi’s three horses just fine. The fence for the twenty acres we had just purchased was up, and our new one-hundred-foot-by-twohundred-foot arena was almost done. We had told Eli that we wanted to adopt him a week ago, and he couldn’t have been happier. He hugged Levi and me, before telling us how excited he was to be our son. We told him that his new name would be Eli Robert Wagner. He nodded his head and said, “That’s a good cowboy name.” Levi and I laughed while agreeing with him. Our daily visits were the highlight of our days. Levi and I drove the seventy miles each morning to Idaho Falls to see our son. Fortunately, his new foster parents were great. We were thankful for that, because Eli had been through so much. They only had two other foster kids and two children of their own. The children were all older than Eli, and they all treated him like their little brother. The family had a small dog, Pepper, who Eli just loved. A few times we had brought Stretch and Emmy with us so Eli could play with them in the park. Levi and I would just sit in the shade under a big tree and watch Eli and the dogs frolic in the grass. We felt content with what was going to be our new life, and we were counting down the days until he came home. Our Coogen Foundation was going strong, and we were planning to open our first center in about a month in Atlanta, Georgia. Levi and I had flown to Puerto Rico for three days a week before, after we had told Eli that we were adopting him. Eli had been upset that he wouldn’t see us for three days, but I told him that we had to help a man who was hurting. He understood and said he hoped that we could help the man.

We had gone to Puerto Rico to meet Captain Coogen in person. It was an emotional meeting, and the local and national press were there to capture it all. It was important that the media was there, because we needed exposure for our foundation. As a nonprofit, we needed monetary donations, but we also needed veterans to know about our foundation. Captain Coogen was still living in his one-room shack in the mountainous jungle of Puerto Rico. After about an hour, I thanked the media and asked them to leave so we could visit with Captain Coogen in private. Our foundation psychiatrist, Dr. Melvin Haterman, had also flown out to meet Captain Coogen. Levi and I left the two of them alone so the doctor could find out what Captain Coogen wanted out of his future and how he could help. We wanted him to get therapy and to our foundation. Our wish was for Captain Coogen to be a mentor to those we served at our centers, a lot like the way Alcoholic Anonymous worked. We wanted to replicate their success.

Levi and I jumped into our rented Jeep, drove down to the coast, and found a deserted beach along the windward side of the island. We walked for a few miles along the shore while watching the battering waves of the Atlantic Ocean. The ocean water was several shades of blue and turquoise. The surf was lapping up against the pink, powdery sand, where it tickled our feet with cool, wet froth. The humidity had us sweating, and the blistering sun was burning our skin. So Levi and I tore off our clothes down to our undies and bolted into the water, laughing and holding hands. A massive wave crashed before us, pushing us backward and nearly knocking me over. We jumped the swell and made our way into the turbulent surf. The chilly, salt water instantly cooled us off. Another big wave broke in front of us, and this time it washed over my head. We both tumbled like we were inside a clothes dryer, the surge turning us upside down before plastering our bodies on the sandy bottom. I popped out of the water, which was now only up to my knees, and tried to study myself while trying to stand. I was laughing like a child while coughing up a mouthful of sea water. My undies had been stripped away and were hanging around my left ankle. The undertow was now pulling me back out to sea, along with the sand under my feet. I nearly fell again in the strong current.

I peered over at Levi, and he had the same flabbergasted look on his face as I must have. We looked at each other and laughed even more. I ran over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. Another powerful wave hit us, knocking us down again, yet with a little less force this time. I had sand in my hair and now in my mouth. With that last wave, my red, lace undies were gone, whisked away in the rolling surf to be found by a local fisherman—a prize for his rearview mirror, I thought as I looked for them in the foamy water. Levi saw me standing there half naked and gave me a devilish grin. He kissed me hard on the lips while holding me tight. We were all alone on this neverending beach, so we ran out of the water and collapsed on the shore, trying to escape another set of waves. It was the best time I’d had in years. My belly hurt from laughing so hard and from braving the battering waves. We grabbed our clothes off the beach and quickly pulled on our shorts. My red bra was full of sand, but I didn’t care. We soon discovered why the beach was deserted. Levi pointed out a warning sign which said, “Warning, Dangerous Surf. No Swimming!” We strolled hand in hand down the beach, with the coastal breeze in our hair. About a half mile down the shore, we found a grove of palm trees that gave us some shade from the hot sun, as well as some privacy. The sand felt cool and soft on my body as Levi and I held each other under the palm trees. We closed our eyes and listened to the waves thunder and crash on shore. The palm fronds rustled in the wind, sounding like a rain shower. It reminded me of the sound the cottonwood leaves would make back home. Levi then rolled over on his side and peeled off my bra and shorts. I sat up a little to see if I could spot anyone around. Levi didn’t seem to care. He slid off his shorts and boxers. I was getting excited as Levi slid his hand down to my shaved pussy. Tenderly, he kissed my mouth and fondled my clit. I was wet and ready for him as he rolled himself on top of me. I could feel his hard dick touch my thigh, and it made me even more excited. Levi guided his cock inside me, where my moist, tight walls caressed his phallus. I moaned and welcomed his deep penetration as the waves inched their way toward our feet with the high tide.

After we made love, we sat up and just watched the ocean waves roll and heave

against the lighter blue horizon to the east. I hadn’t been to the ocean for years, and I had missed it. The island life made me feel wild and free, like we were the only people on earth. We then spotted a large party boat bobbing along with loud island music playing. I think it was a Jimmy Buffet song, “Margaritaville.” We could hear the rowdy, drunk tourists singing and partying on the vintage pirate sailing ship. The booze cruise was a popular attraction with tourists at most tropical destinations. Levi confessed that he had enjoyed many booze cruise soirées in his drunken past. The thought of heavy drinking on a ship that was heaving and bobbing in the sea seemed like a recipe for extreme barfing to me. Levi laughed and said it happened a lot and that the side of the ship was where you barfed. Levi and I no longer felt like we were the only people in the world as we waved at the group of intoxicated people cruising by. We didn’t care that we were both naked, because they were too far away and too drunk to notice. We found ourselves singing along to “Margaritaville” as the steel drum echoed across the water. It was the perfect song for this moment as we enjoyed our tropical paradise. Before we walked back to the Jeep, we ran into the surf to cool off again. This time we didn’t go in as far, careful not to be uprooted a second time. Afterward, I pulled on my shorts and bra over my wet skin and tried to ring out my wet hair. The long walk back to the Jeep had us sweating and feeling sunburned again, so we took another break under some palm trees. The afternoon sun was so intense, but the strong ocean breeze made it bearable. Levi and I would call this our honeymoon, and it had been a great escape for us before we became parents. Still, I would love to take Eli to the ocean someday soon.

That evening we had dinner with Dr. Haterman. He told us that Captain Coogen was suffering from severe PTSD and had been suicidal on several occasions. With that being said, Captain Coogen said he hadn’t been able to end his life because of his two dogs. He said his animals were his family, and he couldn’t leave them. This statement from Captain Coogen helped justify my plan to use dogs to help those with PTSD. His dogs gave his life purpose and gave him

something to live for, but we also wanted to stop his mind from being inundated with the effects of war. It had taken some convincing from the doctor to persuade Captain Coogen to leave his home there in the jungle. Dr. Haterman wanted to treat him in Atlanta, where our new center would be located. Our foundation would give Captain Coogen everything he needed to live comfortably in Atlanta. He showed great interest in being a part of the foundation and its mentoring program. Levi and I were thrilled to hear that, because I wanted Captain Coogen to be our poster child for hope and proof that life can be better for these veterans. Dr. Haterman went on to tell us that he didn’t like to use antidepressants when treating people with PTSD, mainly because the rate of suicide was significantly higher when patients were treated with antidepressants. And incidences of overdose and death from mixing them with alcohol were becoming daily events across the country. The best treatment seemed to be talk and group therapy, he stated. Unfortunately, our VA hospitals were too understaffed to handle the oneon-one therapy that was needed. That’s where our foundation would come in play. It was our goal to get enough from private and governmental sources to handle the scores of veterans who needed help.

I woke up early on this September morning, and I looked at my phone and noted the date. September 7, the day we would bring our son, Eli, home. Levi was still sleeping, so I quietly climbed out of bed and went to shower. I still had tan lines, or should I say burn lines, from our trip to Puerto Rico. I smiled as I ed our romantic time on the beach. It was a beautiful place, and we planned to visit there again. We got on the road by nine, and both Levi and I were chatty and excited about taking Eli home. I looked at the world racing by my window, and I thought life couldn’t get any better. I reached over and touched Levi’s arm. He looked over at me and said, “I love you.” I leaned over and kissed his warm lips.

When we drove up to the foster home, Eli was there sitting on the porch with his foster family. They had a two balloons tied to the porch railing—one that said “Congratulations” and another that said “It’s a Boy!”

Eli jumped up and waved when he saw our big, white pickup truck. I wanted to this moment forever, because this would be our “taking the baby home from the hospital” memory. I got out of the truck and snapped a photo with my cell phone of Eli standing on the porch. I had cut his hair about a week ago, and it was nice to be able to see his big brown eyes. He waved again, and then trotted down the stairs to greet us. Eli ran into our arms, and Levi and I hugged him tightly. Tears began to well in my eyes, and I held him even tighter. My emotions were bubbling out of me as we looked into each other’s eyes. Eli was also crying, his long eyelashes wet with his tears. He used the back of his hand to wipe them away. I told him how much I loved him, and so did Levi. He told us that he loved us more, and we all laughed though our tears. The Nelsons, Eli’s foster parents, then walked down into the yard to us. The children followed with the balloons, and we all hugged. Mrs. Nelson took my cell phone from me and snapped several photos of our new family. We had gotten to know the Nelsons and their family, and we promised to keep in touch. Their eldest son Kevin, handed over the balloons. He gave Eli a fist bump and told him to have an awesome life with his mom and dad. Eli fist-bumped him back and told him that he had to come fishing with us before winter. Levi then chimed in and told them that they were welcome at the ranch anytime. He added that the Teton River had great trout fishing this time of year. With that, Levi put his arm around Eli’s neck and turned him toward the truck. I really wanted to leave, because I couldn’t wait for Eli to see his new home. Emmy and Stretch were waiting in the back seat of the truck for Eli. When he got in, the two dogs mauled him with their wet tongues. Eli just giggled and welcomed their joyous licks. Eli then tried to force the helium balloons into the back seat without hitting the dogs in the face. I yelled at them, “Off.” They both looked at me, with their long tongues hanging out, and sat down on the seat like perfect angels. “I don’t know how you do that. Stretch usually just looks at me and keeps doing whatever I just told him not to do,” Levi said with humor.

Eli chatted the whole way home, and Levi and I sat and listened with pure joy. I loved listening to an eight-year-old’s view on life. It was such a simpler and

more pleasant view of the world. Eli enjoyed learning about nature and about why animals do what they do. He was disheartened by how humans have tried to control everything in nature, only to destroy it and its ecosystem. Levi and I peered over at each other while listening to our son’s mature insight into humankind’s plight on this planet. We knew he was smart, but he was also insightful and curious about the natural world, which we loved, because we were also nature lovers. Our ranch put us in the heart of nature and its incredible wild creatures, and Levi and I felt that we had a responsibly to respect those creatures while living in their world.

Levi drove up to the tall gate to our ranch slowly so Eli could read the sign. “Here is your new home, Eli,” Levi announced with pride. Eli looked up at the sign and read it out loud. “Thistle Dew.” He laughed and said, “Very original.” He then asked me if I had thought of it. I told him yes and thanked him for thinking that I was original. When we pulled up to the house, we saw that there were a dozen or so people waiting for us at the porch steps. I saw Maddy and John with their two boys, Nathan and Brice, Grace, Darien, and Owen, as well as Karen and Bill and their two daughters. They had a big banner hanging from the porch that said “Welcome Home Eli!” I had to cover my mouth, I was so touched by their wonderful surprise. Eli hadn’t met any of his new family yet, and I was so excited for them to meet him. Eli got out first and let the two dogs scamper out after him. Stretch and Emmy made a beeline for Doc and baby Blue, who by now had gotten a little bigger. We hugged everyone and then introduced them to Eli. He wasn’t shy. He walked right up to each of them, shook their hands, and said, “Nice to meet you.” Grace wasn’t going to accept just a handshake. She pulled Eli to her and hugged him like a good auntie should. They were almost the same height. We all laughed, including Eli, who was a good sport. Darien reached out his hand and said, “I’m your Uncle Darien. I’m going to

teach you everything I shouldn’t, just to piss off your momther.” Eli laughed and shook his hand. We had told Eli about everyone and how they were related. Nathan and Brice were excited to meet Eli, their new cousin, and they took him by the arm and ran off toward the creek with their sling shots. I told them not to shoot at each other. We all shook our heads and said boys will be boys. Inside the house, Karen had thrown together a wonderful lunch. We each made a plate and went out to the back porch to enjoy the warm September day. I could see the boys playing near the tepee along the creek. The four dogs were close by, looking for something to fight over, I am sure. The horses were all over by the edge of the fence, watching the boys as they shouted while throwing rocks in the creek. We all sat around and enjoyed our lunch while talking about current events and life. These were my people, the people in my life that mattered, and they were all I needed to be happy. After about an hour, Karen’s girls helped clear the empty plates. They later brought out the carrot cake that they and their mother had made for Eli’s homecoming. Levi yelled over to the boys to come and eat. They all looked over our way and came running, along with the dogs. Their boisterous voices and trampling feet spooked the horses. The herd raised their heads, lifted their tails, and bolted across the pasture, bucking and shaking their large heads. I saw Eli stop in his tracks when he spotted the horses running. He had a big grin on his face, and I could tell he was going to love living the ranch life. The boys devoured their plate of food and were ready for cake and ice cream. It warmed my heart to see Eli getting along so well with his cousins. They were all close in age, and they would be going to the same school together. Maddy’s boys had already started school a few weeks before. I had enrolled Eli the previous week, and he would start on Monday. Eli then looked over at me and delivered a smile that gave me chills. I think my heart just grew a few sizes with his love. Karen had grabbed some candles for the cake and lit them. Together we all sang, “Welcome home, Eli. Welcome home.” Eli was sitting with the cake in front of him. His happiness was evident as I snapped several photos of him and the family. To Eli’s surprise, there were gifts

from everyone, including Levi and me. He expressed his gratitude and thanked everyone while tearing open the wrapping paper. There was a leather baseball mitt and bat from Karen and her family. Maddy and John had gotten him his first .410 shotgun and shells, but he couldn’t use it until he had taken a gun safety class, Uncle John told him. Owen had brought Eli a fly rod, reel, fishing vest, and flies that he had tied himself. Eli was shocked and excited about his gifts, and he again told everyone thank you. Grace and Darien then went inside to get their gift for him. They came out with a cool bicycle and helmet. Everyone oohed and aahed as Eli climbed on his new bike. Levi had left a few minutes before, and when he came back, he was leading Geronimo from across the field and over to the porch. Eli didn’t see him until he was standing near the steps. I told Eli, “Here is your gift from your dad and me.” I pointed to Geronimo. Eli had a look like it was Christmas morning as he ran up to his new horse. Geronimo put his head down and smelled Eli’s hand. He then began to lick it. Eli giggled as Geronimo licked his hand like a dog would. “His name is Geronimo, and he’s all yours, son,” Levi stated before giving Eli the lead rope. “That’s the name of a famous Apache Native American. He wasn’t a chief like most people think. Geronimo was a medicine man,” Eli told us all with a big smile. “Thank you, Mom! Thank you, Dad!” He peered at both of us, and I started to cry, because it was the first time he had called us mom and dad. Eli had learned to ride from his foster parents in Montana. He wanted to show us how he could ride, so he walked Geronimo over into the grass, grabbed a handful of his mane, and swung himself on Geronimo’s back. I grabbed my cell phone and shot video him riding Geronimo for the first time. Eli was a natural on a horse, a lot like his Uncle Darien, with his long legs and balanced seat. Eli gave Geronimo a squeeze with his calves, and into a trot they went, leaving divots in the lawn, I’m sure. Maddy’s boys ran after them, followed by the pack of dogs. We all watched Eli ride Geronimo into our new arena. With only a lead hope and a halter, Eli eased Geronimo into a lope. His cousins climbed up on the fence rail to watch Eli and Geronimo fly around the arena. Eli was smiling from ear to ear

as he rode his new horse. There’s no happier place than being on a horse’s back, I thought as I ran over and shot several photos of Eli and Geronimo. Levi and I were enjoying this moment, and we were looking forward to family trail rides in the mountains.

Later that afternoon, everyone packed up and left so we could be together as a family. We wanted to show Eli his bedroom next. It had already been a full day, and he looked tired as we climbed the stairs to the second floor. Levi went over to open the door to his bedroom. Eli appeared to be excited as he stood next to me, ready for the big reveal. Levi opened the door and said, “Welcome to your tree house.” Eli walked in and was stunned. We had made his room into a big tree. His bed was in the center of the tree trunk, up about five feet. Four limbs branched out toward the ceiling. The artist had made the tree appear so realistic. We had put in a larger window at his bed height, so it was like he was up in a tree looking out into the mountains. The ceiling was painted like the sky, with puffy, white clouds floating around. He had to climb a rope ladder to get up to his bed. And in the base of the tree, there was an opening that led to a sitting area with big beanbag chairs and bookcases filled with classic novels, nonfiction books on nature and science. Levi had bought him a giant telescope for stargazing, and it was pointed out the other window which faced north. We watched as Eli explored his new bedroom with pure enthusiasm. He was educating us on the planets and nature while rifling through the scores of books. Levi and I just stood in the doorway and held each other as we watched our son. We were content with life, because it had delivered us a gift that we could never have imagined just weeks ago.

CHAPTER 12

O NE YEAR HAD ED, AND it was early September. I was getting Eli’s lunch ready for school, and he was running late, again. “Eli, the bus will be here any minute!” I yelled as I put his lunch in his backpack. “Eli!” Eli came tramping down the stairs with Stretch and Emmy hot on his heels. “You better hurry. I have your backpack,” I told him as I met him at the front door. I grabbed his windbreaker from the hall closet. “You’re going to need your jacket.” “Mom, I can walk to the bus stop by myself. I’ll be fine. I’ve got Stretch and Emmy with me.” He looked at me with his big, brown eyes. He had grown a few inches this last year, and it wouldn’t be long before he ed me up in height— and brains, for that matter. He had turned nine in May and had just started fourth grade. “I’ll just follow you half way. How is that?” I asked before we hurried down the porch steps. “No, Mom, really. I’m not a little kid. No one is going to kidnap me. Please.” Eli was now pleading as he grabbed his backpack from me and started running down the driveway with the dogs following him. “Okay, but I’ll be there when you get off the bus,” I shouted. Eli had told me after school started that a few older boys were bullying him on the bus. They were calling him “thistle douche.” I told Eli to tell them that they could do better than that. I also told Eli that the only thing bullies understand is fear and intimidation, and if you don’t give them that, then they will back off. I also explained to my son that life was full of bullies, so it was best to find a way not to let them get to you.

Eli had laughed at my remark and said, “Mom, I told them that if I was a douche, then I could go in places that they could only dream of.” He gave me a big grin and walked out the door. How he knew what a douche was I wasn’t sure, but that was beside the point. I was quite proud of my boy. He totally burned those assholes. Eli had also become a great equestrian stadium jumper. Maddy had started giving him lessons last fall, and Eli excelled at it like he did at everything else he tried. He liked the counting of the strides between the jumps and the flying changes, but what he loved the most was scaling the jumps on a seventeen-hand German warmblood. He said it was exhilarating, that it was a rush to fly over the jumps on a horse that had such power and agility. Eli had even taught Geronimo how to jump last spring. Maddy and I started using Geronimo with our young riders who were just starting out. With novice riders, it was important to have a lesson horse that wouldn’t refuse a jump. Geronimo was fearless and loved to jump, so he was perfect for the little ones.

Levi was in Atlanta working at the foundation and would be home in a few days. I was babysitting for Grace and Darien today, and I was so excited as I babyproofed the downstairs. Grace had delivered a healthy baby girl in early March. Her baptized name was Charlotte Louise Blackman. Charlotte was six months old now and already starting to crawl and get into things. She had Darien’s big brown eyes and a perfect, bald head. She had the fairest skin, like Grace, and the quiet demeanor of her father. I hadn’t held many babies in my lifetime, yet I was enjoying being the auntie. It really was the best of both worlds. Eli was like a big brother to Charlotte. One morning, he was feeding her hot cereal as she sat in her highchair. Eli asked her if she wanted some juice. Charlotte yammered, “Momma,” and pounded her little fist on the tray, splattering oatmeal all over Eli’s face and hair. Eli shouted, “Charlotte Louise,” and then went on to tell me how gross it was. I laughed while I tried to pick the hot cereal out of his hair.

Grace and Darien had gotten married in early August, after Grace felt she had

lost most of her pregnancy weight. They’d had the ceremony late in the day when the sun was low in the sky and the shadows offered cool shade. Darien had looked so dashing, with his black suit coat and tie. His hair was graying around his sideburns and temples, which made him look even more handsome. Grace had worn a pale-yellow dress, which was fitted around the bust and waist and flowed loosely from there to her ankles. Her face had glowed as she peered into her husband’s eyes during their vows. Their happiness was contagious for all of us looking on. Baby Charlotte had worn a vintage white gown. She was held by Grace’s mother, who I hadn’t seen in years.

Grace had worked only part time throughout her pregnancy and then had taken off almost three months after Charlotte was born. Owen had shouldered the burden of all Grace’s work while she was on maternity leave. Because of that, he had not been a part of our foundation. Now with Grace back at work, Owen would lead our medical board, which oversaw the hiring of our doctors and managed them. We had four centers open now, one each in Atlanta—our first—New York City, Chicago, and Seattle. By the end of this year, we hoped to have centers in Dallas, Los Angeles, and Phoenix. About six months ago, Levi’s older brother, Nathan, had called him up and said he wanted to give the Coogen Foundation three hundred million dollars. I was speechless and so grateful for his brother’s generous gift. The media got wind of the donation, and it wasn’t long before Levi’s true identity was revealed to the world. Levi didn’t seem to mind, perhaps because I already knew the truth. His noble status would only help us with fundraising in the future, I figured. Diane Sawyer wanted to air a 20/20 special highlighting the Coogen Foundation and our goals going forward this year. I was looking forward to the interview and to getting added national exposure for our foundation. We were scheduled to fly to New York City in about a week to shoot the fifteen-minute segment. Diane would interview me and Levi, Dr. Haterman, and Captain Coogen. Levi and I wanted Captain Coogen to be the focus of our interview with Diane Sawyer, mainly because it was important for the nation to see where this man had come from and where he was today, only a year later.

Captain Coogen had gone through months of therapy to help him with his PTSD and depression, and Dr. Haterman was pleased with the success he had made helping the captain with his mental health. Five months ago, Captain Coogen started working for the foundation that honored his name. Every day, he would bring his two dogs to work with him, and I loved that he was able to do that. When he started, I hadn’t seen Captain Coogen in months, and if he had ed me on the street, I wouldn’t have recognized him. His brown-and-gray hair was cut short and styled. His fifteen-year-old beard and mustache had been shaved off, making him look twenty years younger. He had also gained about fifteen pounds and appeared not just healthy but also very happy. Levi and I had met with Captain Coogen at our center in Atlanta a few weeks after he started working there. He was so enthusiastic and excited as he showed us around. He introduced us to a few dozen vets who were living and being treated at the center. They were men and women who were receiving one-on-one counseling, along with group therapy. We had dogs available for our guests to help train and later adopt, once they left the center. We had four dog trainers who worked for us. They would train the dogs, but also work with the vets to show them how to train and care for the dogs themselves. The dog trainers were there also to help facilitate matching dogs with the veterans. Our center in Atlanta worked with local shelters, and so far, we had rescued over fifty dogs. Our other centers were in the process of finding the right dog trainers to hire. Captain Coogen had explained to us that the dogs were offered as companions when our guests arrived. He said that the dogs had a profound, calming effect on the veterans and helped them adjust to their new and strange environment. This information was exactly what I’d hoped for when we were in the planning stages of our foundation. There was no doubt that animals could help heal what was broken inside us.

Darien’s life was back to normal only three months after his liver transplant. He was back working as the head chef at a resort restaurant in town. Being a dad suited him, and his gentle tone and loving touch made Charlotte fall hard for her

daddy. Darien was always holding her and talking to her about life. He would have conversations with her while he changed her diaper or fed her a bottle of Grace’s breast milk. I asked him one day why he was always talking to her. He smiled and stated that he wanted her to know his voice, his smell, and his face but also that he wanted to give her the love and affection that every baby deserved. I smiled in return, as I knew what he was alluding to. I understood that overwhelming need to love your child. I felt it with Eli, and even though he was older and wasn’t my birth son, I wanted to protect him as if he were a newborn.

Our attorney had given us the file the state of Montana had on Eli. He had been born in a rural part of Missoula nine years ago. The family lived at the poverty level, and the mother had been fifteen years old when she got pregnant with Eli. A few months after Eli was born, the police had busted the girl’s parents for making meth in their home. It was a big operation, and the threat of a major explosion was a cause for alarm when the police raided the home. Both parents were meth s and were known to be important meth suppliers for the area. After the parents were arrested, baby Eli and his sixteen-year-old mother were taken by the state, and the two of them were put into foster care. The teenage mother told police that she didn’t know who the father of her child was because she’d had multiple partners during the time he was conceived. Eli’s mother signed away all her legal rights to him when she turned seventeen. She ran away from the foster home soon after that. It was sad, I thought, how a baby’s life became just an afterthought following a girl’s careless sexual behavior. It made me think of all unwanted pregnancies, and I asked myself why there wasn’t a simple way to prevent young girls from getting pregnant—a simple way to clamp off the fallopian tubes and then reverse it when the woman wanted to start having children. Girls were going to have sex anyway, so why not prevent them from having unwanted babies? I was glad that Eli’s mother had had him and that she had given him up, because if she had kept him, who knows what his life would have been like. But of course not all unwanted children were adopted. In fact, most were not. Indeed, even though doctors had stated that Eli was healthy and that his brain was

normal, because Eli’s grandparents were known drug addicts, prospective parents had shied away from adopting Eli, in fear that he may have mental and physical defects from the drugs.

By early November of the same year, winter was knocking at our door, and it was making a lot of noise. A winter storm warning had been issued for Teton County Idaho and Wyoming. This weather coming in had me worried, because we had a flight that afternoon out of Jackson Hole. We had taken Eli out of school for Friday and Monday so he could fly to Washington DC with us. Owen was ing us on our trip as well, and we were going to pick him up on our way to the airport. I peered out the back patio windows only to see that the wind had picked up and the snow was now falling in white sheets. My herd of horses had turned their butts into the wind, shielding themselves from the blowing snow. I told Eli to run out to the barn and open the east side doors so they could get out of the cold and snow. I also told him to put some hay out for them in the barn. Darien and Grace were going to take care of the horses and goats while we were gone. I had dropped the dogs off at their place the night before. Levi got out of the shower, and I told him to look outside. “Shit,” was all he said, as he stood and looked out the back door. It was important that we got to DC by that evening, because an invitation from the president of the United States only came along once in a lifetime. We had a meeting scheduled with him in the morning, and with his , we hoped to get governmental funding for the Coogen Foundation. I was extremely nervous, and it was taking everything I had to keep calm. Now, with weather bearing down on us, my stress level was rising. Levi hurried and got dressed and then went into the den to check the weather report at the airport. He said it was the wind that would delay or cancel our flight. According to the weather app on his phone, the winds were gusting at over thirty miles per hour out of the north. Levi looked at me and said, “We’re flying out of Idaho Falls. There is no way we are going to get out of Jackson with that wind.” The Jackson Hole Airport was a difficult airport to fly in and out of in good

weather, because of the Teton Mountain Range bordering the west side of the airport. Levi went online and booked us all tickets out of Idaho Falls to Salt Lake City and then on to Washington DC. I called Owen and told him our new plan. He agreed and said he was ready to go.

Two hours of driving in a blizzard, two flights, one layover, and eight hours later, we landed in Washington DC, our nation’s capital. Eli was excited to visit all the historical landmarks and museums. However, he was most excited about meeting the president. Eli had kept his trip private from his friends and the people at his school. They would be able to see it on the television, he said to me with a big grin. The weather in Washington was actually pretty nice for early November. The leaves were at their peak, and the air felt warm and damp as the sun was setting to the west. We checked into our hotel and went up to our suite on the tenth floor. We had two rooms that were divided by a door so Eli could have his own space. He thought that was so cool. After he placed his roll-on bag onto his king size bed, Eli wanted to go for a swim in the indoor pool, so Levi and I followed him down the elevator to the pool. I texted Owen and told him where we were. We had dinner reservations somewhere not far from the hotel in about two hours. I was really tired from our hours of travel. Yet, my excitement gave me the energy to carry on as Levi and I sat and watched Eli dive into the deep end of the pool. Dr. Haterman and Captain Coogen were going to meet us for dinner. We would discuss what we wanted to talk to the president about and who would do most of the talking. We would have a few minutes alone with the president before a few television cameras and photographers were allowed inside to chronicle our meeting. I had been in touch with the president’s press secretary, and she had given us our itinerary. We needed money to keep our foundation going and for it to grow, so the president would have to write a bill, and then it would have to in the House and Senate. With the media exposure over the past year, we were confident that our bill would . Our mission to heal veterans was nonpartisan, which would give our bill legs.

There had, of course, been other donations granted by a few billionaires that were connected to Levi and his family. Nevertheless, we needed governmental funding, and we also wanted our bill to include funding for our veterans hospitals and programs to teach them how to heal those with PTSD without drugs. Dr. Haterman’s success rate was astounding, and we wanted to share his processes with other psychiatrists in his field.

I woke early the next morning, having only slept maybe four hours. The time difference wasn’t on our side either. My clock read 6:00 a.m., which would be 4:00 a.m. mountain time. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and cursed the dark bags under my eyes. I took a cold, wet wash cloth and pressed it to my eyes. The coolness felt good and helped me wake up. I turned on the shower and put the cloth back on my eyes for a few more minutes. The room was full of steam as I got into the hot shower. I tried to rehearse what I was going to say to the president, but my head was spinning with facts and statements from last night’s dinner. Everyone thought that I should do most of the talking because it was my foundation. The president had already been briefed on our foundation and what we had achieved over the past year, so there was no need to sell it, Dr. Haterman reminded me during dinner. We agreed to just keep it casual and let the president ask the questions. I wanted to introduce Eli to him first so we could get down to why we were there. I didn’t want any press photos of Eli. After what had happened to Darien, I was going to be more careful about exposing my family to the public.

At 8:30 a.m., a long, black limousine pulled up to our hotel. We were all standing on the curb waiting. The six of us climbed into the limousine, and the car quickly sped off to the White House at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Eli was chattier then usual that morning, as his excitement spilled out of his mouth. Dr. Haterman, meanwhile, was quiet and sat peering down at his phone. Captain Coogen was talking with Eli, and the two of them were like two peas in a pod. They were discussing the plastic-trash island that scientists say is floating in the Pacific Ocean somewhere. Eli stated that it was bigger than the state of Texas. I interrupted their conversation and suggested that we send all the convicted

criminals there. It would be like a floating, plastic prison. Eli laughed and told me, “Good one, Mom. They couldn’t go free, because the sharks would eat them!” At that he giggled even harder. I just smiled and then started listening to Levi and Owen discussing the two feet of snow our valley had received in the past eighteen hours. In contrast, it was another beautiful, sunny fall day in our nation’s capital. As our limo drove through the gate of the White House, I could feel my heart really beating, and the palms of my hands were sweaty. Levi grabbed my hand and squeezed it. I looked at him and gave him a nervous smile. It all seemed to be happening so fast—too fast. I wanted this moment to last long enough for me to recall it in detail for my grandkids someday. In spite of that, when we arrived at the entrance, the doors to our car were swung open, and we were hurried into the White House by several secret service agents. We couldn’t bring in any personal belongings, which meant no purses, cell phones, cameras, or, of course, weapons. All of us had gotten security clearance before arriving; that was protocol for everyone meeting with the president. The assistant to the president met us after we cleared security. She was smiling wide, with her arms held out like she was trying to corral us into a pen. “Over this way everyone. The president is running a little late this morning, but have no fear. You can wait for him in the Oval Office.” The tall, pretty brunette walked briskly down the long hallway in her tight pencil skirt and tight, white blouse. She would turn around every few seconds to make sure that we were all keeping up with her rapid pace. Strutting like that in those three-inch heels had to be an Olympic sport, I thought as she raced down the hall, looking like a runway model. I was wearing a nice, blue, button-down shirt, a long denim skirt, and cowboy boots, and I was nearly tripping over myself. Eli, on the other hand, was right on her heels, gawking at everything as we made our way down to the Oval Office. It was a surreal moment for all of us as we saw scores of secret service personal, government aids, and other important White House staffers walking the halls of the People’s House, as it was sometimes called. The assistant to the president stopped at a closed door, which two secret service men were guarding. She nodded at them and then opened the door. She stood next to the open door and motioned for us to enter. She followed us in, and then closed the door behind her.

We all walked in and then stopped so we could ire a room few had the honor to enter. The oval-shaped room was smaller than I thought it would be. The first thing I noticed were the oval walls and the windows on the back wall behind the president’s large, wooden desk and chair. To our right were two cream-colored sofas, which were placed across from each other, and a white, limestone fireplace. There were two navy wing-back chairs on each side of the fireplace, and a beautiful painting of George Washington hung above the mantel. I peered down at the large rug with the presidential seal, and I was overwhelmed with a feeling of pride for my country. The assistant told us to take a seat and said that the president would be there shortly. With those words, I began feeling light headed. I had to take a few deep, cleansing breaths to help clear my head before I sat down on one of the sofas. Levi looked more nervous than me as he paced around the room. Eli and Captain Coogen were still chatting while looking at the esteemed paintings of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. Eli had become a walking encyclopedia as he told Captain Coogen facts about the two former presidents. Dr. Haterman was sitting on one of the sofas across from me, looking like he was waiting to see his ant. The man is as cool as they come, I thought as I fidgeted in my seat. Then we heard the door open, and in walked the president of the United States. He appeared taller and younger than he appeared on television. He wore a big smile on his face, and he looked my way first, recognizing who I was. I stood. It felt like I was having an out-of-body experience as I methodically walked toward him. Eli and everyone else also stood to greet their president. I turned to look for Eli, so I could introduce him first. Eli walked over and stood next to me. I found that Eli’s presence seemed to help ground me. The president walked up to me and Eli and said, “Thank you, Meredith, for taking the time to meet with me this morning.” He’s thanking me. The president is thanking me for being here, I said to myself as I shook his strong, firm hand. His humility confirmed that we were in the right place and that we could count on his going forward. I couldn’t help but look back at how far I had come these past two years. Sadly, many lives had been lost because of what Blake had done. Nevertheless, those

people did not die in vain. We were exposing the dirty truth behind what war did to our loyal soldiers. We were taking action and doing something about it, instead of just blaming those who were responsible. The Coogen Foundation was created to help heal our men and women who have served, and I was proud to have created it.

The End