Winter Journeys

Fulfillment of a Prophecy

(Author's Note: "Ross Highway" is a little in-joke. My grandfather was an early highway commissioner in North Carolina and his name was Ross, but to my knowledge he never named anything after himself)

Grace and Bonnie eventually learned to live in one room -- not by negotiation, but mainly by muddling through. Bonnie claimed that she could not sleep on the floor in her condition, and Grace, not knowing enough about pregnancy to argue the matter, let her have the bed every night. On the other hand, Bonnie developed a sentimental interest in listening to Christmas carols or watching TV with the Cavalos family, giving Grace time alone in their room for a couple of hours each evening.

Bonnie had in the meantime found ways to make herself useful. Mrs. Cavalos had taught her how to "drive" the horse-drawn wagon, which meant that she could help transport heavy goods around the farm, even though she was forbidden to lift the goods herself. She had also learnt to hitch and unhitch the draft horse to the wagon, something that required no bending, though the Cavalos insisted that she call them in if the beast showed any resistance.

Mrs. Cavalos, discovering that Bonnie had not yet made contact with an adoption agency, found one with branches in both North Carolina and Maryland, meaning that Bonnie could start negotiations here and complete them even if she moved back to Arcadia. The agency's first visit was scheduled for Friday, December 16, in the afternoon. The Cavalos parents had to go shopping in the nearby town that morning, but promised that they would be back in time.

Grace, meanwhile worked in her Secret Garden, at tasks that had became so routine she rarely had to think about them. But today something grabbed her attention. Normally the stalks had a fairly uniform yellow color, but along one of today's plants she noticed patches of brown that she had never seen before. Then the same flaws on another plant.

She got out her pruning knife, cut one of the odd stalks, and put it down on the path separate from the others. Later, when it was time to ride home for lunch, she cut it into pieces small enough to fit in her saddlebag. She'd see what the Cavalos made of it.

The backyard seemed strangely empty when Grace rode into it. The family car was gone, meaning that Cavalos couple had not gotten back yet. But the wagon was also gone. Even if Bonnie or Brian had taken it out for chores, she should have spotted something that big at a distance somewhere on the farm.

Dismounting, and trudging in the back door, she called out "Hello? Anybody here?"

"Grace?" she heard Brian's voice from upstairs. "I've just gotten out of the shower. I've been mucking out the stable this morning."

"It's OK," relieved at hearing a human voice. Then she saw the note on the kitchen table. She read it through once, then yelled, "BRIAN! We've got TROUBLE!"

He dashed in, dressed in trousers and bathrobe and bare feet. She handed him the note.

I cant go thru with it. I thought that I could just give the baby up and that's that but I was stupid. Ive seen now what a real fambly is like now and I want a fambly like that for my own. I already got a fambly inside me and Im not going to give it up. Im not going to let the adoption people take my baby I won't be here. Sorry about taking the horse and wagon but Ill get them back somehow. Goodby.

BONNIE

"But that doesn't make sense," Brian said. "She hasn't committed herself to anything. Why would she run away when she could just say no to the adoption agency?"

"We're talking about BONNIE," Grace said, "a girl who's gotten in and out of scrapes for all her teen life. If you're Bonnie, you don't say no to authority, you run."

"Or ride away in our wagon," said Brian angrily. "We've got to get her back."

"Right. The question is, where did she go?"

"There's an abandoned farmhouse about a mile west of us," mused Brian. "Maybe she's hiding there."

"Maybe, if hiding out is all she has in mind. But if she's trying to get out of the area altogether, she'd head for town. That's east."

"Maybe we should call the police."

"With your parents' horse and wagon in her possession? We don't want her to get on record as a thief, on top of everything else." Grace looked out of the window, taking stock of the remaining vehicles. No wagon, and the Cavalos still had their car. "I'll get on my horse and ride east along the road. Even with her head start, I should be able to catch up with a plodding draft horse and a heavy wagon. I'll keep my cell phone with me."

"I'll call my parents, and get dressed, and ride to the old farmhouse, then," said Brian. "East or west, we ought to find her."

Outside, Grace swung herself back into the saddle and rode down the driveway to the road. She knew that trotting on modern asphalt roads were not good for horses' hooves, and that galloping was even worse, but speed was necessary, and she urged her mount to race down the road as fast as it could. At least climate was on her side: though cold, temperatures were above freezing, and she wouldn't have to worry about icy patches. Once she settled into a steady gait, she felt a sudden fit of déjà vu.

She had been in Arcadia's city park last August, a couple of weeks after returning from vacation, when a young woman rode up on horseback.

"Hey!" yelled Grace. "Stay on the bridle path! People should be able to walk around the park without worrying about stepping in horse crap."

"I'm in control, Grace," the equestrienne said calmly. It was Diana, the Cowgirl God. "But I have something to say. I gave you riding lessons for a reason, and you need to keep your skills up. Someday they'll save somebody's life."

"A life in danger? Whose? When?" asked Grace. But Diana turned her horse's head around, gave a backhanded wave, and rode away like the wind. Grace wondered if Diana's mount was a supernatural creation or even part of the avatar. But that wasn't important. The prophecy was.

Grace had obeyed the hint. It was made easier by the fact that she made a new friend, Maggie Begh, whose family raised horses and let Grace visit their stables whenever she liked. Grace figured that that wasn't a coincidence.

But instinct told her that today was not just a matter of a runaway girl. It was today that her riding skills would save a life.

There, up ahead, a bundle lying in the thick grass on the side of the road. Grace reined in to examine it.

It was Bonnie, unconscious. Her arm was lying at an odd angle, and Grace hated even to speculate what other injuries were concealed by her thick winter clothes. Grace fished out her cell phone without even dismounting, and punched 911.

"Hello? My name's Grace Polk. There's a pregnant woman lying unconscious at the side of a road. Seven months. I'm not sure what all has happened to her. Please send help!"

"What is your location?"

"Um, about a mile east of 7733 Ross Highway." The Cavalos address. "Tell them to look for a girl and a black horse standing at the side of the road."

"We'll dispatch somebody. Do not try to move the victim, but keep her warm."

"OK. Hurry."

Grace dismounted and examined the scene to figure out what happened. Bonnie was lying on a thick patch of overgrown grass. Behind Grace, back toward the farmhouse, the grass had been crushed for several feet. So: Bonnie had jumped or fallen from a rapidly moving wagon, and rolled to a stop. From what Grace remembered from AP Physics, that was a lot less harmful than simply hitting the ground with a single thud. But with her belly sticking out and presenting such a vulnerable target--?

Grace took off her coat and draped it over Bonnie's body to keep it warm. Shivering in the December weather, she hugged her horse's neck, trying to absorb warmth from the animal's own body heat. At the same time, and it took some complicated logistics, she punched in Brian's number on her cell phone and told him what she had found. He promised to call his parents with the news.

To Grace in her current mood, the ambulance took a shocking amount of time coming, but she reminded herself that she was miles from the nearest town, not within walking distance of the hospital as in Arcadia. When they did arrive, they seemed impressively efficient. Without asking stupid questions, they gave Bonnie a quick examination, transferred her to a stretcher without jarring her, and loaded her in the back of the ambulance. Then one of the paramedics turned to Grace. "Do you know the victim?"

"Sort of. Her name's Bonnie McLean."

"You better come with us to sign papers."

"OK." Grace stared at her horse, wondering how to get rid of it, then fell back on a trick she had seen in movies. Leading it around by the reins until it was facing the farm, she then gave a sharp slap on the rump. The frightened horse galloped away, putting as much distance between itself and Grace as possible. Her theory was that once it slowed down, it would recognize the surroundings and trot the rest of the way home. If not, the Cavalos were out two horses and a wagon on top of having a badly injured guest. A poor result for their generosity. What had God let this happen to such a deserving couple?

And those losses were minor compared to what Bonnie could lose.