Texas Rebels: Quincy. Linda Warren

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       Chapter Five

      Jenny slept most of Sunday in a drug-like stupor. When she was awake, it felt as if tiny people with big hammers were building a roof on her head. But even her aching head couldn’t block the thought that she had wasted a lot of years on Paxton. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers. She’d refused to see what even a blind person could—there was no future there.

      By Monday morning, she was feeling better. Even her bruised pride had survived the weekend. She was on duty at the hospital, so she was up at 4:00 a.m. to start a twelve-hour shift, getting patients ready for surgery. And on Mondays the schedule was usually full. Back-to-back surgeries all day long.

      She’d gotten up thirty minutes earlier because she had an errand to do. Slipping on jeans, boots and a T-shirt, she hurried toward the back door and the barn. Since it was September and still hot, White Dove preferred the corral to the barn. Jenny grabbed a couple of bridles and made her way there. The black-and-white paint horse raised its head as Jenny approached and trotted to the fence, followed by Jenny’s quarter horse, Sassy.

      The moonlight cast an iridescent beam of brightness, making it easy for Jenny to see. She climbed the fence and stroked the horse’s face. Quincy had bought her at a horse auction in Laredo. She was skittish and had marks on her coat where she’d been beaten with a whip. Quincy had said he had gotten her cheap, but she doubted that. The horse was beautiful with a black patch on her left rump extending down part of her leg. Another black patch was on her shoulder and ran down part of her leg and stomach. The area between the patches was white and to Jenny it resembled a dove. Quincy had made a face when she’d said it, but he’d named her White Dove anyway. There were other black spots on her neck and body and her face had a white blaze. She was due in the spring with her first foal.

      Jenny would miss that. A tiny choke squeezed her throat. “Sorry, girl, I have to return you.”

      She slipped a bridle on Dovie and then on Sassy. With one hand, she opened the gate and then led the horses through and closed it. As she vaulted onto Dovie’s back, she winced. She wasn’t all that crazy about riding bareback, but since Dovie was pregnant Jenny wasn’t putting a saddle on her. Kneeing Dovie, she started off on a well-used trail to the Rebel property, leading Sassy.

      She picked her way through the woods carefully, trying not to think that this was the last time she’d be riding this horse. The light thump of hooves sounded like thunder in the quiet darkness. Only the chirp of crickets and the croak of frogs in the small pond interrupted the quiet now and then. The darkness was all around her like a comfortable jacket, and she felt safe in these woods. She’d grown up here and knew every inch of them.

      The closer she got to Quincy’s corral, the more she wanted to turn back. Even though her heart was breaking at having to give up something she loved, she continued her journey. That was what starting over was all about.

      Soon she reached the property line and dismounted to open a barbed-wire gate she and Quincy had installed so Jenny wouldn’t have to walk so far to the barn. She swung onto Dovie’s back and made her way to Quincy’s barn and corral. Once there, she dismounted again and led Dovie through the pipe gate.

      She stroked the horse’s face. “Goodbye, girl. Quincy will be good to you just like I was.” Wrapping her arms around Dovie’s neck, she held on tight.

      The horse neighed softly.

      Her throat squeezed in pain as tears threatened. Quickly, she kissed the horse and walked out, closing the gate. Dovie neighed again, but Jenny kept walking. Swinging onto Sassy’s back, she rode away, letting the tears fall where they may.

      As she made her way home, she refused to think about the past. It was over and she couldn’t go back. Today she was starting over and that began with breaking all ties to the Rebels.

      No matter how much it hurt.

      * * *

      QUINCY WAS UP early on Monday. It was the beginning of a workweek and they always had a family meeting to discuss what needed to be done and who was going to do it. Before going to the office, he went to feed his paints. As he carried sweet feed in a bucket to a trough in the corral, he glimpsed White Dove walking back and forth along the fence.

      Damn it! Jenny, you didn’t have to do this. Dovie continued to walk the pipe fence line, agitated. The other mares, sensing her anxiety, began to follow her. Red Hawk threw up his head and neighed, not liking that his mares were upset.

      Quincy dumped the feed and the mares immediately trotted to the trough. Dovie continued to pace. He’d check in again on her later. A newcomer always interrupted the herd, but Dovie wasn’t new. The mares and Hawk knew her. It was Dovie who was causing a disturbance and he’d have to do something about it if her behavior continued during the day.

      Late getting to the meeting, he quickly found a seat and was surprised to see Grandpa present. He’d left him nursing a cup of coffee this morning.

      Fall roundup was around the corner and Falcon talked about what pastures they would work first. So far, nothing had been said about Saturday night. Paxton wasn’t even there and Phoenix sat slumped in a corner, probably hoping that Falcon and Jude couldn’t see him.

      “Today I want all the fence lines checked on the pastures to make sure once we start roundup, the cattle can’t break the fences,” Falcon said.

      “Paxton will be spending time with Lisa,” his mother announced. “And Phoenix will be helping me at the house for the next few days.”

      “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Elias was the first to voice his opinion, as always. “I get to work my butt off while Paxton and Phoenix get to laze around.”