Promise Canyon (Virgin River #13)(9)

"You promise?" she asked.

"Promise," he said, giving her a firm nod. "Go on home. You've done enough. And thank you."

She backed away almost fearfully. "No. Thank you," she said. "Please take care of her."

"Of course," Clay said. "Try not to worry."

As Lilly backed away, she muttered, "How could someone just leave her like that? Abandon her...?" But Clay and Nathaniel didn't hear her; they were busy working with the horse.

When Lilly delivered feed for her grandfather, who everyone called Yaz, she used one of the company trucks. Her personal vehicle was a little red Jeep, which she'd park in the rear of the store. She spent the majority of her time managing invoices, ordering supplies and cutting payroll checks. Two afternoons a week she'd take out one of Yaz's company trucks, and one of the guys who worked for him would load up the back each time she returned empty after deliveries. She made several runs to smaller stables and horse properties. The larger orders to big ranches and farms were handled by Yaz and a couple of his employees on the flatbed truck. Yaz was sixty-nine and still strong as a bull. Some farmers and ranchers grew their own feed; some picked up their feed and saved a little money.

Lilly took the pickup keys and clipboard to Yaz's desk at the back of the store. "Got it done, Grandpa," she said, handing off the paperwork and keys. "Need anything more from me today?"

"Thank you, Lilly. Any problems I should know about?"

"The delivery went just fine. Dr. Jensen is taking on another horse tomorrow so I'll increase his delivery for the next time."

"Does he need a special run?"

"He didn't ask for an extra delivery, just an increase. I looked in the feed room and he's well stocked. And he has a new guy working for him." Her grandfather didn't even look up from the signed delivery receipts she had handed him. "Virginia went ahead and retired the second the new guy was on his way," she said. He nodded at his paperwork. "He hired himself an assistant. Big guy. A Navajo."

Yaz looked up then and connected eyes with his granddaughter. He smiled just slightly. "Is that a fact? Why'd he come here?"

Lilly almost blushed; she had no idea because she didn't ask him about himself at all. He had asked her questions, general flirting and being friendly she supposed, but all she knew of him was that he was Navajo and could carry two bales at a time. "I didn't really talk to him. Just to say hello, that's all."

"Is he good with horses?"

"Yes, he... Grandpa, on my way home I found a sick horse by the road. Probably colic. I called Nathaniel and he came out with Clay--that's the new guy's name, Clay. They came right away but what we found out, the people who owned that pasture where the mare was and the house and barn that went with it, they cleared out and left their animals to starve. Nathaniel says they're seeing more of that sort of thing all the time because of the economy and unemployment."

"People who were having a hard time before are having a harder time now," Yaz said.

"He said sometimes they have to choose between feeding their children and their animals. But there are rescue groups! Why wouldn't they call a rescue group?"

Yaz looked up at her, his dark eyes gathering a little moisture, the flesh below and at the corners crepey and wrinkled. "Even the rescue groups are stretched to the limit. Then there's pride and shame," he said. He leaned back in his old desk chair. "When a man is running out on his debts, he doesn't usually say goodbye."

"You'd think whoever did that could've swallowed enough pride to let someone know the animals were left behind," she said.

"You'd think," he agreed. "The horse going to be all right?"

She shrugged. "Nathaniel was treating her with pain medication and mineral oil when I left, even though there's no one to pay him."

Yaz looked down at the clipboard again, paging through her collection of deliveries. "Well, at least she got the best, and at a bargain."

"True," Lilly agreed softly. "You'll want to meet the new man--he grew up around Flagstaff."

A smile hinted at the corners of Yaz's mouth. "It will be good to see a neighbor, even an inferior neighbor." The Hopi and Navajo had long lived side by side, alternately getting along and squabbling. "I look forward to knowing him. See you on Sunday." That was the day they set aside to eat together at his house. It was a traditional house--Lilly cooked. She also made sure her grandfather's house was clean and his laundry done.

So much for her nontraditional ways....

"Sunday," she echoed, leaving the warehouse.

Her heart was still heavy, however. It was likely Lilly had an issue with this business about the horse for more than one reason. Lilly's mother had abandoned her when she was an infant, leaving her with her grandparents on the reservation in Arizona. Lilly's grandma had passed when Lilly was nine and while Yaz was grief-stricken, he was not intimidated by the prospect of raising her alone, without the help of a woman. In fact, it was possible he'd risen to the occasion. He seemed to relish his parenting duties. And at thirteen, the boy she'd loved had run out on her, leaving her high and dry, and with bigger problems than she knew how to deal with. Abandonment was an issue for her and she knew it.