Page 11 of Whispers Of Horses

I stared at her, wondering how it was I knew this woman. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I’m afraid I don’t recognize you.”

She laughed lightly, shaking her head, and began walking again, leaving me no choice but to follow her. “Oh, you wouldn’t dear. Why, I was your very first teacher, way back when you went into kindergarten.”

I gawked at her. Was she serious? “Wow, that was so long-ago Mrs.…” I searched my scattered brain for the information I was sure was there.

“Mrs. Blumberry, my dear. That’s all right, I don’t expect you to remember me, after all, you were just a tiny little thing back then,” she laughed at what I guessed must be a memory. “Oh, I remember, the first day you walked into my classroom, you had this big poof of dark hair, and these huge blue eyes, and the rest of you…” with another chuckle, she shook her head. “Well, there wasn’t much I could see beneath the jean overalls and knee high cowboy boots.”

I winced at the description, and there was little doubt I looked just as she described. I had a tendency back then to wear my sisters’ clothes as much as possible. I imagined the knee high cowboys were actually my sisters, and likely several sizes too large.

I began to wonder just how far we were walking, when she planted herself onto a bench at the bus stop on the corner. For some reason, I felt a sudden surge of protectiveness over this little old lady who had been my first teacher. The thought of her on a public bus made me nervous. It wasn’t that Durango was a crime riddled town, but still, we had our share of it here too.

“Uh, Mrs. Blumberry, do you ride the bus often?”

She glanced up at me, smiling. “Oh, heavens no, dear. Usually, Joan does all of my errands for me.”

I sighed. “Oh, okay. Uh, who is Joan?”

“Why, Joan is the woman who comes out to my place once or twice a week to help clean up, bring me groceries, and run my errands for me.”

I let out a little breath of relief to know she wasn’t always alone. “Oh, I see. So, where is Joan today?”

She tilted her head to one side, seemingly considering the question. “Honestly, I’m not certain. She didn’t show up last week at all, and I couldn’t wait any longer to mail that letter, so, I hopped on the bus.”

Frowning, I nodded my understanding. “I see. Mrs. Blumberry, would you like me to give you a ride home, so you don’t have to sit here until the bus comes?”

Her face brightened up, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, would you, Callie? That would be much more pleasant than the hour long bus trip.”

I gaped at her. “Hour long? Why on earth would it take an hour? How far do you live?”

Mrs. Blumberry smiled happily. “Not far darling, just about twenty minutes out of town, out on old Wildcat Canyon Road.”

I blinked in surprise, my forehead creasing slightly in a frown. This old woman lived out there, on Country Road one-forty-one-which was also called Wildcat Canyon Road-all alone? The homes and ranches located off this part of Durango were very close to the forests, and it was a bit of a surprise that she lived so far out of town. Slowly, I walked her back towards the post office, and to my parked truck. Helping her in, I listened to her happy chatter-which sometimes made sense-and sometimes didn’t.

“Okay, Mrs. Blumberry, what’s your address?”

Her aged face contorted into a deep frown, and she seemed to consider the question. “Oh, its uh…that’s the oddest thing. I just had it there, and then poof, its gone.” My heart contracted for the poor woman, as she sat there in confusion. I imagined it wasn’t easy to get older, so I tried to be as patient as possible.

“That’s all right. Do you think you could just guide me there?”

She nodded exuberantly. “Oh, yes, yes, of course. I live right by a big ranch, so we’ll have good landmarks to go off.”

I pulled out, and although she looked relaxed and happy, I didn’t quite feel so optimistic. There were a lot of ranches in Durango, but at least I now knew she had neighbors close by.

About fifteen minutes later, I was passing through the cut in Wildcat Canyon Road which resembles a miniature canyon, waiting for the older woman seated beside me to point out where to go.

“Keep going honey, the road is just to the right after the descent calms to a more reasonable level.” She glanced out at the countryside around us, green pastures fading to gold in the autumn coolness, and tall pines, fir, and blue spruce as well as other coniferous trees rising over the smaller oaks and hackberry trees made for a dazzling view. It wasn’t too different from the area where I had grown up, although our ranch sat more to the east side of Durango. Either way, both areas were surrounded with forests, mountains and wilderness.

Coming around a curve, I was lost in the scenery around me, when Mrs. Blumberry squeezed my arm, and pointed to the right. “There it is, dear.”

My eyes followed her finger, and I found a gravel driveway with a pair of large rock pillars on either side of the entrance, each mounted with a running horse. “Huh, so do you share this property?”

I pulled carefully onto the gravel driveway and kept driving. Mrs. Blumberry shrugged. “In a way. My husband and I used to own the entire property, but years ago,” she smiled wistfully. “Many years ago, we realized we were never going to do anything with it all, so he sold all but the few acres surrounding our little house. The man who bought the property had horses, and he built a large home on it. He was a nice man, a good neighbor.”

I heard the past tense of her words, so I asked, “Did he pass away?”

“Hum? Yes, he did about…oh, maybe eight months ago or a little more. He left the place to a relative, though I can’t recall how they were related, exactly. Nice young man though. He too has horses, but I’m not sure if he trains or breeds, but either way, I like him. Very polite, kind young man.” She cast a sideways glance at me, before adding, “Handsome devil too.”

I didn’t miss the exaggerated wink she sent me, and I laughed. “Well, I’m glad he’s as nice as the previous owner.”

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