A Country Affair(39)

“Good. I’ll pick you up at six.”

Rorie climbed out of the MG and closed the door, turning to give Dan a limp wave. She paused in the foyer of her apartment building to unlock her mailbox.

There was a handful of envelopes. Absently, she shuffled through a leaflet from a prominent department store, an envelope with a Kentucky postmark and an electric bill. It wasn’t until she was inside her apartment that Rorie noticed the letter postmarked Nightingale, Oregon.



Thirteen


Rorie set the letter on her kitchen counter and stared at it for a moment. Her chest felt as if a dead weight were pressing against it. Her heart was pounding and her stomach churned. The post-office box number for the return address didn’t tell her much. The letter could as easily be from Kate as Clay. It could even be from Mary.

Taking a deep, calming breath, Rorie reached for the envelope from Kentucky first. The return address told her nothing—she didn’t know anyone who lived in that state.

The slip of paper inside confused her, too. She read it several times, not understanding. It appeared to be registration papers for Nightsong, from the National Show Horse Association. Rorie Campbell was listed as owner, with Clay’s name as breeder. The date of Nightsong’s birth was also recorded. Rorie slumped into a kitchen chair and battled an attack of memories and tears.

Clay was giving her Nightsong.

It was Nightsong who’d brought them together and it was through Nightsong that they’d remain linked. Life would go on; the loss of one couple’s love wouldn’t alter the course of history. But now there was something—a single piece of paper—that would connect her to Clay, something that gave testimony to their sacrifice.

Rorie had needed that and Clay had apparently known it.

They’d made the right decision, Rorie told herself for the hundredth time. Clay’s action confirmed it.

Clay was wide-open spaces and sleek, well-trained horses, while she thrived in the crowded city.

His strength came from his devotion to the land; hers came from the love of children and literature and the desire to create her own stories.

They were dissimilar in every way—and alike. In the most important matters, the most telling, they were actually very much alike. Neither of them was willing to claim happiness at the expense of someone else.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and sniffling, Rorie wiped them aside. The drops dampened her fingertips as she picked up the second envelope, blurring the return address. But even before she opened it, Rorie realized the letter was from Kate. Clay wouldn’t write her, and everything Mary had wanted to say she’d already said the morning Rorie left Elk Run.

Three handwritten sheets slipped easily from the envelope, with Kate’s evenly slanted signature at the bottom of the last.

The letter was filled with chatty news about Nightingale and some of the people Rorie had met. There were so many, and connecting names with faces taxed her memory. Kate wrote about the county fair, telling Rorie that she’d missed a very exciting pig race. The biggest news of all was that after years of trying, Mary had finally won a blue ribbon for her apple pie—an honor long overdue in Kate’s opinion.

Toward the end of the letter, Clay’s fiancée casually mentioned that Clay would be in San Francisco the first week of September for a horse show. The American Saddlebreds from Elk Run were well-known throughout the Pacific coast for their fire and elegance. Clay had high hopes of repeating last year’s wins in the Five Gaited and Fine Harness Championships.

Rorie’s pulse shifted into overdrive and her fingers tightened on the letter. Clay was coming to San Francisco. He hadn’t said anything about the show to Rorie—although he must’ve known about it long before she’d left Nightingale.

Kate went on to say that she’d asked Clay if he planned to look up Rorie while he was in town, but he’d claimed there wouldn’t be time. Kate was sure Rorie would understand and not take offense. She closed by saying that her father might also be attending the horse show and, if he did, Kate would try to talk him into letting her tag along. Kate promised she’d phone Rorie the minute she arrived in town, if she could swing it with her father.

Not until Rorie folded the letter to return it to the envelope did she notice the postscript on the back of the last page. She turned over the sheet of pink stationery. The words seemed to jump off the page: Kate was planning an October wedding and would send Rorie an invitation. She ended with, “Write soon.”

Rorie’s breath caught in her lungs. An October wedding... In only a few weeks, Kate would belong to Clay. Rorie closed her eyes as her heart squeezed into a knot of pain. It wasn’t that she hadn’t known this was coming. Kate and Clay’s wedding was inevitable, but Rorie hadn’t thought Clay would go through with it quite so soon. With trembling hands, she set the letter aside.

“Rorie, love, I can’t honestly believe you want to go to a horse show,” Dan complained, scanning the entertainment section of the Friday-evening paper. They sat in the minuscule living room in her apartment and sipped their coffee while they tossed around ideas for something to do.

Rorie smiled blandly, praying Dan couldn’t read her thoughts. He’d offered several suggestions for the night’s amusement, but Rorie had rejected each one. Until she pretended to hit upon the idea of attending the horse show...

“A horse show?” he repeated. “You never told me you were interested in horses.”