 
### The Healing Touch

### A Tory Lane Novel

By Heather MacKenzie-Carey

Copyright 2014 Heather MacKenzie-Carey

Smashwords Edition

Cover Design by: Miss Mae

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each receipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

**Table of Contents**

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

About the Author

Chapter 1

Tory pressed her face against the window pretending to be interested in watching baggage handlers toss suitcases onto the conveyor belt. She could really care less whether or not her luggage made it into the plane or not, but she figured if she kept her head squished against the plastic maybe her father wouldn't see her cry.

"Just a few more minutes and we're off to a new life." Tory's father reached over from the seat beside her and squeezed her hand. Tory wished he wouldn't hold her hand in public but she didn't want to hurt his feelings by saying say so. It was good to see him excited and almost happy again. Tory felt miserable. The same way she had felt for the last year.

Well, eleven months and three days ago to be exact. That was when the police officer rang the doorbell to tell them her mother had been in the accident. Tory's father had opened the door happy to see his friend, not expecting anything wrong until he saw the look on Ted's face. He hadn't realized Ted was making an official police visit.

"Frank, buddy, I'm so sorry to be telling you this, but you need to come down to the hospital right away. Samantha was hit by a car and it's bad," Ted said.

Tory had been listening from the top of the stairs and heard Ted's voice crack when he spoke. Her father had believed it was still going to be okay. He went into "emergency mode". A paramedic himself, he was used to accidents, broken bones and head injuries. He figured the doctors and nurses, science and medicine, could make it all better. He told Tory her mother had been in an accident. He said they would go see her at the hospital and make sure she was okay. He said Ted was just shook up because it was someone he knew. Tory knew even before the officer came to the door that it wasn't going to be okay.

Tory had been home sick from school that day. She had the weird pain in her head that came sometimes when bad things happened, and her stomach had been sick. She had seen a strange black aura around her mother for days. She had tried to talk to her mother about it- to warn her. Her mother had brushed it off.

"You've been watching too many movies and reading too many books about magic and supernatural stuff," Tory's mother said. But she looked a little frightened, and Tory knew her mother was scared, maybe even afraid for Tory.

"I'm going to go get you a funny movie to take your mind off things," she said.

When Tory begged her not to go, saying that she didn't need a movie, her mother stroked her forehead as though she could brush the thoughts, the visions, the pain, away.

"Sometimes you remind me so much of Grandma Nan," she said as she kissed Tory on the forehead. That was the last thing she said to Tory.

A few minutes before the door bell rang Tory had seen the whole thing. She saw the car coming up behind her mother. She saw her mother swerve to avoid a pot hole just as the driver of the car looked down to answer his cell phone. She smelled the rubber burning on the road, felt the impact of her mother's body against the hood of the car. Tory knew when her mother's body slid from the hood of the car to the road. For a second she saw the blue sky from her mother's eyes and she knew her last thought had been of Tory. Then Tory's mother closed her eyes and the world went dark.

For the next week, Tory and her father had kept up a vigil beside her mother's hospital bed in the intensive care unit. Frank had been absorbed by the medical science of it all. He read all the charts, talked to the Doctors and nurses about trying other things, doing something, anything. He had monitored the intravenous tubing that carried fluid to her body, and checked the respirator constantly. Every time he thought he saw the slightest movement, a sign of life, he jumped up and looked at the machines. He explained all the machines and numbers to Tory as though she were a medical student. He acted detached, as though Samantha was a patient, not his wife and Tory's mother.

Tory had felt if she focused hard enough, hoped enough, or squeezed her mother's hand the right way, she could make her wake up. If only Tory could reverse the vision, take back that moment. If only she had done something to make her mother stay home. Why hadn't Tory suggested they watch an old movie? Why hadn't she begged her mother not to leave? Why hadn't she made her mother understand the danger she was in. Why hadn't she told her how much she loved her? If only she had told her how much she needed her.

Tory's mother had never gained consciousness. On the seventh day, they took her off the machines and said she was dead. Tory's father had remained professional when he explained to Tory that many of her mothers' organs would be donated. He said Samantha wanted that. It was something they had talked about without involving Tory. Samantha had signed a donor card. Frank said it should make Tory feel proud that her mother's dying could give others life. It didn't.

The funeral had been like a tragic Shakespearian play with everyone acting out a role. Frank had played the "understanding paramedic" and had comforted others, refusing to acknowledge or give into, his own grief. He complimented Tory on her strength. He said they would get through this together. They would be strong for Samantha. Tory played the role of "Daddy's little girl", taking her lead from him, pretending to believe his words. She acted strong and detached as though none of it was her fault. Tory's role was to act like she and her father were a team that could survive without the main character, the heroine. That was the play. In real life, Tory's whole life fell apart.

Tory's grandmother arrived for the funeral. It was the first time Tory had met her. The family resemblance was obvious. Tory's grandmother was tall and thin like Tory's mother and had the same green eyes as Tory and her Mom. She kept hugging Tory and saying she was so sorry for everything. Unlike everyone else, Grandma Nan didn't say that things would work out okay. Grandma Nan cried. She said she wished things happened differently but everything happened for a reason. Tory couldn't see any reason for her mother dying, but Grandma Nan was kind and meant well. It felt like Tory had always known her.

The night after the funeral, when Tory couldn't sleep, Grandma Nan had sat on the edge of Tory's bed with the princess netting and pink trim, and told her why they had never met before. She said Tory's Mom had been wild and headstrong and had run away with Tory's Dad, Frank. Frank's family had a cottage on the island and they came every summer. Frank had been a tall handsome lifeguard that last summer so many years ago. Grandma Nan said it had been a strange summer with intense thunderstorms and changing winds. What had always been a close friendship had turned into something more between Samantha and Frank that year. It seemed natural to most, but Samantha's father hadn't approved. He expected Samantha to go to Veterinary College and eventually take over his practice. He had big dreams and goals for his daughter. Those dreams didn't include a "Come from Away Cottage Guy" like Frank.

Samantha and Frank eloped during a thunderstorm, the night before a big horse show. When Samantha called home and said they were married, Tory's grandfather had told her to never come back. And she hadn't.

Grandma Nan had sent a birthday present to Tory every year and Samantha had sent pictures of Tory to Grandma Nan but they never met. When Tory's grandfather died, Samantha still didn't go home. But when Grandma Nan heard about the accident she swallowed her fear of flying and came halfway across the country to look after Tory and her Dad. "Just until you get back on your feet," Grandma Nan had said in her strong authoritative voice.

Tory's Dad said they didn't need help. He claimed they were a family, just the two of them now. After a couple of weeks Grandma Nan couldn't stay away from the Island any longer and flew home to look after her stables.

Tory rolled her fingers around the individual stones on her rose quartz bracelet. The bracelet was a gift from Grandma Nan. The day she left, Grandma Nan had taken it off her own wrist and given it to Tory. She said wearing the bracelet would help Tory feel loved and protected. Grandma Nan said it would help Tory remain connected to her. Tory's father said it was Grandma Nan's "hoo- doo- voo- doo". But Tory never took it off. It really did help a bit- just not enough.

Tory and Frank weren't "back on their feet". The past few months hadn't gone well. The house was a mess; Tory had pimples all over her face from eating junk food for supper every night, she had gained ten pounds, her father had lost fifteen, and even Saint Albert the cat looked mangy. Both Tory and her father knew they needed help.

Tory's father was working extra shifts at the fire hall. He had taken a promotion to Paramedic Supervisor. Everyone said it was incredible that he could still do what he did; going to accident scenes and helping people after what had happened. Tory was alone a lot of the time. Tory had always been an "A" student but even her grades had taken a dive. She just didn't care and she couldn't concentrate. Homework seemed stupid. School felt pointless. The teachers all gave her a break. They said it was okay, she could make up things later. Her favourite teacher, Mrs Gibson tried to talk to Tory about it. She said everyone understood and asked if there was anything she could do. No one understood. There wasn't anything anyone could do.

Then two weeks ago, when the school year was over, over hamburgers and fries before he went to work, Tory's father had dropped the bomb. He said he had been talking to Grandma Nan and decided it was time to move! He got a job with the Fire Department on the Island and they were going live on Grandma Nan's horse farm. Just like that. He hadn't even asked Tory what she thought about it- just made a decision. That wasn't the way it had been when Tory's mother was alive. They had made family decisions then. Tory didn't know anything about horses and Frank was allergic to them! What a ridiculous idea to move to a farm.

When Frank told her about the move Tory just said, "Whatever". It was stupid but she really didn't care. Nothing really mattered any more. She didn't have any friends because no one knew how to talk to her since her Mom died. She didn't want to go to anyone else's house and see their mothers doing all the things her mother had done before. She could feel how uncomfortable people were around her and it was exhausting. Tory just didn't have the energy to care anymore or be a friend and she didn't want to burden anyone else with her pain.

Tory leaned over and poked her finger into Saint Albert's cage underneath the seat in front of her. She stroked that special spot behind his ear and felt the vibration of his purring. He was really the only friend she needed and as long as he could come with her Tory didn't care where they lived. St. Albert was really special. Whenever Tory cried he curled up beside her or on her lap looking at her with his sad yellow eyes. When Tory tried to do her homework, St. Albert would bat her pencil with his one white paw trying to get her attention. Except for the front right paw he was totally black, a Halloween cat. He liked to show off his white paw. He would lick his paw with his scratchy pink tongue and then wash himself over and over again until he was sleek all over. Before Tory's mother had died, St. Albert hadn't been very friendly or affectionate, preferring to keep to himself. Tory figured St. Albert knew how much she needed a friend and he barely left her side since they had come home from the hospital knowing her mother was dead. He slept on her bed that night and every night since and was always sitting at the window waiting for Tory to come home from school. Already bored with the plane and his carrier, St. Albert settled into his soft pink blanket for a nap.

Maybe an Island would be okay after all Tory thought. A farm with lots of trees and a beach and grassy fields meant she could just disappear and not have to talk to anyone or try and pretend she was normal. Grandma Nan had said she was busy working with the horses all day long. Tory figured that meant she would be left alone with St. Albert. Maybe she could catch up on some reading or just sleep without anyone trying to cheer her up. Maybe the visions wouldn't follow her there.

As the plane lifted off, Tory felt almost excited. She squeezed her father's hand and closed her eyes. Saint Albert was already asleep.

Chapter 2

Tory watched with envy as her father rolled up a scrawny airline pillow covered with a paper pillow case, tucked it in-between their seats, settled his head, stretched out his legs and closed his eyes. Practiced in the art of catching "cat naps", Tory knew he would be asleep in seconds. Although he would fall asleep, Tory also knew that his sleep would include sleep jerks, uneven breathing, and nightmares. His sleep patterns were one of the few tangible signs of the disconnection between how well adjusted he appeared to be and how he really felt inside. Tory longed to talk to him about his nightmares. She wanted to tell him how one afternoon when she had laid on her mother's side of the bed and pulled her father's pillow close to her she had seen the vision of how tortured he was inside. She felt his pain and knew he missed her mother as much as she did, but she could also feel the wall he put up as soon as Tory even came close to talking about feelings.

Four magazines full of boring stories of self-improvement, make-up techniques, and anorexic models, an attempt to get into the plot line of _The Book Thief_ , two chocolate bars, four bags of airline mixed snacks and one clear plastic glass of Diet Coke later, Tory "replaced her chair and tray to the upright position and prepared for landing". Her father startled into awake mode when the pilots voice came on announcing their arrival and explaining passengers continuing on to the Island destination could remain seating as the stopover would be short.

Tory and her father watched as almost everyone on the plane gathered up their things and exited. Tory watched a young man in a business suit turn on his Blackberry checking messages while he impatiently waited to get moving. Tory had a brief vision of him accepting a job offer and moving into a new apartment. If only all her visions could always be such happy ones.

When the plane was almost empty, a girl that looked only a couple of years older than Tory struggled on, juggling a baby, a diaper case and an overflowing backpack. Tory heard the mother explain to the flight attendant that she was visiting her parents for the weekend. She joked about how great it would be when the baby was old enough to make the thirty minute flight by himself to visit Nanna and Grampa so she could stay at home in the city in peace. Tory could see the hazy green color that seemed to envelope both mother and baby in a protective shield and Tory knew the mother couldn't even imagine letting her baby out of her sight even as she joked about it. As Tory watched the mother settle into her seat hugging the baby, the hazy green started to turn into a vision of herself as a baby looking up at her mother. She quickly blinked her eyes to dissolve the vision and turned her focus out the window.

It seemed they barely got up in the air again before they were once again on the descent, this time for good. Tory felt her stomach tighten at the thought of "landing for good", and watched as her father tried to fake his own nervousness by pretending to be engrossed in the flight magazine. His nonchalance might have been convincing if not for the nervous jiggle in his leg.

The Island airport was barely bigger than a small studio apartment but it was packed with people waiting for the one plane of the day. Most people were picking up packages and boxes not passengers. In fact, Tory, her father, the girl with the baby, and two older ladies were the only ones other than the flight crew to disembark. Tory figured it wouldn't be that difficult for the baby to have made it on his own. There was one gate, one suitcase carousel, a few cargo pick-up and drop off desks, washrooms and a car rental agency in the terminal. The gift shop was really just a shelf display set up in the corner. Aside from gum and chocolate bars there were plastic lobsters, stuffed toy lobsters, pictures of lobsters, and recipe books on how to cook lobsters. Tory shuddered at the thought of eating what looked like a giant angry bug and focused her attention on the small group of people waiting for arrivals.

There was Grandma Nan waiting looking large and in charge, talking away to everyone. She seemed to both stand out and fit right in, all at the same time. Grandma Nan was wearing a flowered sweatshirt and faded blue jeans. Her grey hair was tied back into a long braid and Tory was pretty sure the cowboy boots poking out from under her jeans were real working boots and not a fashion statement.

Tory had thought Grandma Nan's clothes had looked strange and out of place in the city. If Tory hadn't been so consumed with grief, and worried about not showing her emotions, she might have been embarrassed by Grandma Nan's appearance. None of Tory's friends Grandma's ever wore jeans, at least not unless they were stretchy and pressed with a sharp crease. They wore matching pant and sweater sets in soft pastel colors, or gently flowered dresses with low heeled pumps or sensible shoes. They always looked pressed, smooth and painted, as though they had spent a lot of time getting their clothes, make-up, and nails, just right before they ventured out. Very few of them would ever "allow" their hair to remain grey and spent hours in the beauty salon. It seemed the ordinary thing for Grandma's to do.

But then, there was nothing ordinary about Grandma Nan. She didn't just wear jeans; she wore jeans that were heavy denim, not stretchy. They fitted her pretty snugly, but in a no- nonsense, working jeans, way. The knees were worn and threadbare but unlike Tory's cherished designer distressed jeans, Tory didn't think Grandma Nan paid big money to buy hers like that.

Grandma Nan seemed to know everyone in the airport and already news had spread that her granddaughter and son-in-law were going to live with her. Tory could see women eyeing her recently widowed father. He was good looking with his dark thick curly hair, solid body builder muscles, and soft blue eyes. Tory knew he looked young enough that most people thought he was her older brother not her father. He looked even better when he smiled and he did smile when he saw Grandma Nan. They hugged and Tory heard her grandmother whisper, "welcome home".

Just then Saint Albert started putting up a big fuss in his carrier, wanting out to see where he was and probably feeling pretty disorientated. Saint Albert hadn't enjoyed the last landing and he was anxious to let everyone know he had been sorely mistreated.

"I brought something for this little traveler," Grandma Nan said. "Is it okay if I give him some Rescue Remedy to help him adjust to the changes," she asked looking at Tory for permission?

Tory remembered Grandma Nan giving her a couple of sprays of Rescue Remedy at the funeral. Her father had rolled his eyes at the idea of her "hoo- doo –voo- doo potions", but he had sprayed some in his mouth like a breath freshener. He had showed Tory how to use the spray and they had shared it back and forth every five minutes or so until they felt in control again. Tory remembered the calming effect and knew it couldn't hurt Saint Albert so she nodded in agreement feeling appreciative of the adult role Grandmas Nan has so quickly put her in by asking Tory's permission and not her fathers'.

Grandma Nan cooed at St. Albert, sprayed some of the remedy in his mouth when he opened it to complain and pulled him out of the carrier into her arms. Much to Tory's surprise he cuddled right up in her arms, wrapped his thick black tail around himself and purred, while he kneaded Grandma Nan's sweatshirt with his white paw.

"Strange," mumbled Tory because Saint Albert usually hated everyone but her. Nobody seemed to hear her or pay any attention.

Loaded down with suitcases, St. Albert's carrier, and boxes with all their worldly belongings that hadn't already been shipped, Tory, her father and Grandma Nan, still hugging Saint Albert, headed out to the parking lot.

As soon as they stepped outside Tory could smell salt air and sea grass. She watched as her father took a deep breath and seemed to hold it while he closed his eyes. Tory knew he was remembering something from the past.

Grandma Nan marched right up to the biggest, oldest, rustiest pick-up truck Tory had ever seen. At some point it might have been pink but the rust had overtaken any chance for real color. Across the doors there was a picture of a horse in mid air over a jumping fence and _Meadowlands Farms_ was written in bold green lettering.

Grandma Nan opened the door and settled Saint Albert on an old horse blanket. Then she started picking up suitcases, throwing them into the back of the truck.

"I'll do that Nan," Tory's father said.

"Nonsense," huffed Grandma Nan. "I'm nowhere near dead yet. When you live on the Island you have to be able to look after yourself."

Tory thought about that as they rumbled down the rough roads to the farm. The horse blanket and Saint Albert were on her lap, Grandma Nan was at the wheel and her father was scrunched up to the passenger window trying to keep away from the horse hairs on the blanket. Tory figured that was a lost cause because horse hairs seemed to float everywhere in the cab of the truck and there was a distinct barn odour lingering on everything. There wasn't a mall, store or fast food restaurant in sight. It was just miles and miles of country. It seemed there wasn't a place you could be that you couldn't see the ocean on one side and trees, grass and fields on the other. Farmers on tractors in their fields raised their sunburnt arms to salute Grandma Nan's truck as it drove by. Everyone seemed busy and yet not in a hurry to be somewhere they weren't.

Tory was starting to feel a bit like Anne in the _Anne of Green Gables_ books her mother brought her for Christmas one year. Tory could imagine Anne driving in the bouncy horse cart with Matthew on her first introduction to Island scenery. After about twenty hot, cramped, bouncing minutes in the truck, Grandma Nan slowed down at a fork in the road and they rattled over a wooden bridge. Below them a creek gurgled by in no more hurry than anyone else on the Island it seemed. Trees lined the road on both sides and horses cantered up to the fences and seemed to nicker at Grandma Nan. There were horses of every size and color. Grandma Nan leaned out the truck window and called them by name as they drove by.

The white farmhouse at the end of the road looked inviting with its pink shutters. It seemed like Grandma Nan had a fondness for pink just like Tory. The house looked like a doll house beside the huge red roofed barn that seemed to be the focal point of the whole place. A collie lifted his black and grey head at the sound of Grandma Nan's truck and slowly got up to stretch and limp to meet them.

Saint Albert suddenly woke up and arched his back when he saw the dog. "Don't worry Saint Albert," Grandma cooed. "That's just Old Rusty. He's half-blind, pretty slow and scared to death of cats, but he's the best friend I've got so you'll have to get used to him."

Tory thought it seemed like Grandma Nan might know a thing or two about friends. She certainly seemed to understand animals if Saint Albert was any judge. He crawled over and stretched himself across her lap, placing his white paw on the door handle. He looked out the truck window and seemed to be waiting for her to open the door and introduce him to his new home.

Chapter 3

Saint Albert gazed down at Rusty from the security of Tory's arms and seemed rather unimpressed. Rusty looked at Grandma Nan as if to question whether or not she had approved of the feline intruder.

"It's okay Rusty. Saint Albert is family now," Grandma Nan answered, as she knelt to scratch Rusty's ear, making eye contact with him as she spoke.

"Rusty, meet Saint Albert. Saint Albert, meet Rusty. Now the two of you can just work things out," Grandma Nan said.

And that seemed to be the beginning and the end of both the introductions and any further discussion on the topic. Rusty headed for his bed, either to guard it or play with a squeaky ball depending on Saint Albert's reaction. Saint Albert, much too dignified for any squeaky toy, headed for the food bowls to check out the menu.

"All right then,"said Grandma Nan. "Follow me up to your bedrooms." And without even a glance back, Grandmas Nan started hauling suitcases up the old stairway.

They had barely retrieved all the suitcases and boxes from the truck and deposited them in their new spacious bedrooms when Tory's Dad said he thought he'd go check out the fire-hall.

"Mind if I borrow your old truck, Nan," he asked? "Maybe I can swing by Happy Harold's and see if he's got an old beater car I can pick up for a good price." He didn't even look at Tory, let alone ask if she wanted to go with him.

Grandma Nan squeezed her lips together in a thin line that Tory decided probably meant she didn't really approve, but she said, "Do what you have to do. Tory and I will check on the horses."

Tory didn't know a thing about horses and wasn't even so sure she liked them but Grandma Nan didn't seem to take "no" for an answer. Tory felt like she was in a daze of unreality as she watched her father practically bounce out the front door and down the steps towards the truck. He didn't seem the least bit affected by the flight, the jet lag, or the total change of their entire universe. Grandma's Nan voice was the only part of the whole scene that seemed to separate dream from real life.

"Change into some barn clothes and I'll meet you out there," Grandma Nan said.

Tory sat on her "new" antique bed and looked at the dark pink, almost rose colored velvet drapes and the pale pink walls. She flopped on her back on the bed with her eyes closed to keep from crying. When she opened them, stars and a moon glowed above her, and for a moment she thought she was back home, looking at the ceiling her mother had created for her when she was a baby. Despite multiple room decorations, Tory had always kept the ceiling the same. She remembered her mother telling her she had fought with Grandma Nan to have the same thing on her ceiling as a girl. She said Grandma Nan had said it was silly to put them on your ceiling when you could just go outside and see them but then she helped her put them up. Tory wondered what else her mother had done with Grandma Nan. Certainly her mother never would have painted her bedroom pink. Tory figured she would likely have picked green or maybe blue, almost anything but pink. Tory had a brief vision of Grandma Nan painting the walls pink. The vision was blurry but Tory thought Grandma Nan was crying while she painted. Tory shifted her focus to clear the vision and noticed a picture in an old fashioned, heavy pewter frame sitting on the pine dresser top. It was a close-up of Tory's mother's face as she held a tiny baby that must have been Tory shortly after she was born. Their cheeks almost touched as mother and babe seemed to gaze at each other with equal love and amazement. Her mother was smiling at Tory as though she were the most perfect baby in the whole world. Tory picked up the picture and traced her mother's face with her finger. Out of nowhere, Saint Albert leaped to the top of the dresser and meowed as he twitched his tail in Tory's face. Tory swallowed the lump in her throat and said, "I'm going to stop crying Saint Albert. I've got horses to meet."

Tory turned to her suitcase and in a moment of panic wondered what in the heck "barn clothes" were anyway. She pulled out a pair of designer jeans and a white T-shirt. At least if she didn't know anything about horses she was going to look good. She tied her long black hair into a ponytail with a white scrunchie, tugged on a battered old pair of runners, took a deep breath, and headed out to meet Grandma Nan. Saint Albert curled up in her suitcase so he could shed hairs all over her clothes.

When she cautiously peeked through the big open door of the barn, Tory could see shadows and hear Grandma Nan cooing to someone. The "someone" started stamping his feet and nickering when he saw Tory.

"Oh there you are," said Grandma Nan. "Is everything okay with your room? It used to be your mother's you know except back then it wasn't pink."

"I love it, thanks," Tory said and smiled to prevent the tears.

Grandma Nan seemed to take a deep breath. Then she looked Tory over, lifting an eyebrow at the white T-shirt and immaculate jeans. "I guess it was kind of hard to find barn clothes before you got properly unpacked," she said. "Never mind, the horses won't care what you look like, and I guess everything will wash."

Tory, imagining Grandma Nan throwing her jeans in the dryer and shrinking them five inches said, "I'm used to doing the laundry." She stumbled behind Grandma Nan as she marched through the barn, checking stalls and occupants along the way.

"Let go see who's in the arena," Grandma Nan said as Tory followed her down a little hallway that opened into a big open space that Tory could imagine might have been an ice arena except the floor was covered with sandy dirt rather than ice. The building was shaped in an oval like an arena. Huge lights hung from the ceiling and shone irregular light through the dust. At points along the walls, letters were hung on white poster board. The letters didn't make any sense to Tory as they didn't seem to be in any particular order or arrangement. Horse jumps were set up at one end and at the opposite end, a woman was holding the end of a long rope in one hand, a long whip in the other. Attached to the end of the rope, and circling around her at a trot, was a grey horse. Every once in a while the horse would slow down and the woman would raise the whip a bit, say "walk on" , or make a clicking sound and the horse would speed up.

"That's good Isabella, the woman was saying, Easy Isabella, good girl."

When the woman saw Grandma Nan and Tory she, slowed the horse to a walk, and then a stop.

"Hi there, I'll be right with you." She set the whip down on the ground and slowly approached the horse gathering rope in her hand as she moved in closer. The horse watched her every move, pinned one ear back and shied away from her at first. The woman placed one hand on the horse's neck and reached into her pocket with the other. When she pulled her hand out of her pocket the horse started to nuzzle the woman's flattened palm, enjoying the treat reward. Both woman and horse seemed to match their stride as they started walking towards Tory and Grandma Nan.

"Hi there," said the woman. "And you must be Tory." She rubbed her free hand on her thigh to clean off the crumbs and horse slobber before reaching out to shake Tory's hand. "Welcome to Meadowlands," she said. "It will be great to have some more help around here."

"Tory, this is Clara," said Grandma Nan. "She's my foreman and trainer and riding instructor and veterinarian."

"What she means by that i;, the only help she's got!" snickered Clara.

On closer inspection, Clara was quite beautiful in a wholesome, milk and cookies, kind of way. Her hair was tucked into a baseball cap but blond curls were poking out all over. A pony tail was sticking out of the back of the cap and the curl cascaded to her shoulders. Clara was tiny but her arms were huge and looked like Tory's fathers' after he had just been working out. She looked very fit in tight beige riding pants, a dirty green T-shirt and high black boots.

"I've just been lunging Isabella," she said. "I think I'll soon be able to get a saddle on her back. Just let me put her away and you can help me with the new arrival," she said. "He'll be here any minute. "

Grandma Nan and Clara walked Isabella down the isle to the row of stalls. Isabella seemed to know where she was going and appeared anxious to get there. A few times Clara yanked a bit on the halter and told her to slow down.

"So what types of horses have you ridden Tory," Clara asked? She turned her head to try and find Tory who was following at a very safe distance from Isabella's huge feet.

"Umm, I think I rode a pony once at a birthday party until I cried so hard my mother pulled me off," Tory mumbled as she felt her cheeks turn warm. It didn't occur to her to be embarrassed by that until it came out of her mouth. She realized she was surrounded by women that obviously felt very comfortable around everything horsey and she was surprised to discover she might want to fit in.

"Oh," said Clara as she glanced at Grandma Nan in surprise. "Never mind then, we'll start you off with Firefly. Everyone loves her; she's very gentle and eager to please."

Tory really wasn't sure she wanted to be "started off" on anything and was about to say so when all of a sudden Old Rusty started barking and Isabella's ears pricked up. Horses all over started neighing. Clara quickly led Isabella to her stall and unhooked the lead rope from the halter. Isabella seemed to have already forgotten what she might have heard as she buried her nose in a bucket hanging on the stall wall. She banged around in the bucket a bit, then lifted her head still munching while oats dripped from her lips. Every muscle in her seemed to tense as she watched Clara close the stall door and slide the bolt across securing it.

"Don't worry girl, no one's going to take your food away," Grandma Nan said. "There's always more where that came from. Poor girl, your whole world keeps changing doesn't it? Don't be scared, everything's going to be okay."

Isabella must have decided Grandma Nan was true to her word because she relaxed a bit and turned back to her food bucket. Tory wondered if Grandma Nan's words were more for her than for Isabella. Tory stood frozen in place as a huge truck and horse trailer started backing up to the barn door. Tory could hear something big thumping around inside and Tory wished she had Isabella's faith and trust.

Chapter 4

"That's the new one," Clara said. "I think she's going to be a handful. We'd better go help." She grabbed a halter and lead rope and headed towards the trailer. Grandma Nan was already well ahead, shoving carrots she grabbed from a big bag by the tack room door into the front pocket of her jeans while she walked.

Tory couldn't imagine what "a handful" would be to Clara who seemed ready to tackle the world, so once again she kept her distance and slowly followed Grandma Nan and Clara.

A big square man with a red face, black cowboy hat and scuffed boots climbed out of the truck and swaggered towards the trailer hitching up his jeans as he walked.

"I don't know about this one," he said shaking his head.. "Might be a lot, even for you guys."

"Never mind Cecil," Grandma Nan said. "You always say that and we're always able to bring them around. Who do you have for us today?"

"Well we found this Paint Mare out on the old abandoned Miller farm," Cecil drawled as he spit thick clumps of brownish tobacco spit on the ground. His aim wasn't all that accurate which Tory figured explained the dark stains on the toes of his boots. "I heard she had a foal that didn't make it and that made Old Miller mad enough to throw her out in the field with the other horses he gave up on. She's big enough to hold her own, but she was out there in the field with some pretty tough stallions. There wasn't much grass out there for any of them so she's in pretty rough shape. She's not real fond of people, that's for sure. It took four of us to catch her and five of us to get her in the trailer. Good thing she's half starving and beaten down or we would have had to put her down right there. You can try and see what you can do, but mind she doesn't kill you in the process." Cecil cautiously opened up the back doors of the trailer and pulled a ramp out from underneath the trailer, attaching it securely to hooks before easing it down to the ground.

Tied to the front of the trailer was the biggest horse Tory had ever seen. The horse snorted at Cecil and pawed at the floor of the trailer with one huge front foot, and stretched her neck against the rope, but it looked like she was too exhausted to put up much of a fight. She was black and brown and white and mostly caked with dirt and dried blood from numerous nicks and cuts on her body. Flies buzzed around her wounds. Her feet were gigantic, like the big draft horses Tory had seen pictures of working in the maple syrup fields pulling wagons. Tory couldn't imagine going anywhere near her and Cecil didn't seem in any hurry to approach her either, but Grandma Nan just walked right up the ramp and into the trailer all the while cooing to the horse and holding out her hand. The horse backed as far away from Grandma Nan as she could and kept her wild eyes on Grandma Nan's every move. Tory could see a black cloud of terror and pain around the horse so dark and thick it seemed to penetrate the whole trailer and seep into Tory's own head. But Grandma Nan seemed completely undisturbed and unaffected by any of the horses' distress. Very slowly Grandma Nan pulled a carrot out of her jeans pocket and held it out in front of her. The horse stretched her huge neck so she could keep her body far away from Grandma Nan but still sniff the carrot. She wiggled her enormous lips trying to reach the carrot while Grandma Nan still kept talking to her. The mare cautiously reached for the carrot and Tory thought Grandma Nan would lose her hand. But those huge lips just wrapped themselves around the carrot and took it out of Grandma Nan's hand. She munched greedily as Grandma Nan reached up very slowly and stroked her neck. The paint horse pinned back her ears but stayed in place while Grandma Nan slowly untied the lead rope that kept her secured to the ring on the trailer wall.

"Easy girl, you're okay," Grandma Nan said and she held out another carrot. The horse just followed behind Grandma Nan as they moved out of the trailer. Tory had taken up position behind Cecil figuring that was as safe a spot as any if the horse should just bolt out of there, but the horse seemed to pick her feet up ever so carefully as she walked down the ramp easy and calm as anything, her eyes glued to the carrots and Grandma Nan.

Cecil shook his head in amazement. "You sure do have a way with the horses Nan," he said. "I never would have believed if it if I hadn't seen if for myself. I never thought she'd come out of there peacefully, let alone being led like a baby."

"There isn't a horse alive that's bad, just the people that own them," Grandma Nan said in a soft, soothing, tone that Tory knew was meant for the horse while her words were aimed at Cecil.

"Thanks for the delivery. We'll take care of her from here Cecil," she said with a confidence that Tory was suddenly proud of.

"I think we'll put this girl in the outdoor paddock till she gets used to things, Clara," Grandma Nan said. "What do you think Tory?"

Tory just gulped and nodded her head, scared that Grandma Nan would want her to come closer to the huge animal. Instead Grandma Nan said, "Run ahead and open the gate on that near paddock Tory."

Tory had no idea what a paddock was but the squared off fenced area with a three sided shelter in it seemed the obvious choice. It had a gate on it so Tory assumed that must be it. It was close to the barn but fenced off from the bigger fields where the other horses were lined up along the fence line anxiously watching the new arrival. Grandma Nan led the horse inside and told Tory to close the gate as she undid the halter. As soon as she was released, the horse ran as fast as she could. Tory was torn between wanting to keep the gate open so Grandma Nan could get out and wanting it closed so the horse couldn't get out. She compromised and kept her hand on the gate but put herself on the outside making sure the gate was between her and the horse. Rather than come anywhere near the fence, the horse ran to the far end of the paddock as far away as she could get from people, skidded to a stop and then stood there looking at them all, her butt almost, but not quite, touching the electric fence rope. The other horses seemed to catch her energy and they began running along the fence. The mare put her huge head up in the air and let out the loudest screaming sound Tory had ever heard. Her whole body seemed to move and strain with the sound that erupted from within. It was terrifying and mesmerizing at the same time and Tory wasn't sure whether she should join her in the scream or run for cover.

Grandma Nan, who had bravely turned her back on the horse to walk back to Tory at the gate laughed and said, "See that big old paint is going to be just fine here. She's already saying hello to the other horses. She probably has a pretty sad story to tell."

"She's terrified," Tory said. If Grandma Nan was as surprised at Tory's sudden authoritative assessment as Tory was, she didn't show it.

"They're always scared, or abused, or in a mess when they come here Tory," explained Grandma Nan. "See Meadowlands is kind of a last chance farm. We take in horses that no one else wants or can look after. Many of them are ones the SPCA has had been called to rescue or put down like the Paint here. Lots of times people have mistreated them. They come here and we just love them, feed them, and enjoy them. They all come around with a lot of love and understanding and food. Some of them we end up riding, some of them move on to other homes after awhile, and some of them we just love. If we didn't take them they would probably be put down or killed, and I just can't stand the thought of that. I think everybody deserves a chance to be loved and cared for, a chance to prove how good they can be. All anybody needs is some time to figure out their purpose in life. And the same goes for animals. Keep your eye on this girl and I'll go get her some hay," Grandma Nan said as she headed back to the barn.

Tory watched the big horse gently bend her head to test the grass. "I think we might have a lot in common girl," Tory whispered. As she stood by the gate, Tory saw a pink cloud radiate out from the horse and seem to float towards her and a vision appeared in the cloud. Tory could see the big horse bending over a tiny foal. Tears poured down Tory's face as she felt the horse's pain. It wasn't just the pain of losing her baby. It was the agony of knowing there had been nothing she could do to help; no way could she protect what she had loved the most. Tory's tears seemed to morph into raindrops and the vision changed focus. Tory could see herself standing in a rainstorm crying into the huge horse's neck. Tory shivered as she felt the cold wet of the rain, a strong wind, and deep fear. Tory shook her head at the ridiculous vision. She couldn't even imagine walking into that paddock let alone getting close enough to touch the horse. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. The visions weren't going away. They were getting crazier out here on this farm. Tory took a deep breath to try and clear her mind.

Tory felt Grandma Nan come up beside her and the vision cloud disappeared as quickly as it came. Grandma Nan tossed some hay over the fence and passed some square cracker- like treats to Tory. They looked like bigger versions of St. Albert's crunchies.

"Why don't you spray 4 doses of that Rescue Remedy you have in your pocket on those treats and give them to her," Grandma Nan said.

Tory hadn't even remembered she had put that spray bottle in her pocket when she left for the barn, but she pulled it out and did as Grandma Nan instructed.

"I guess I could use some myself," she mumbled and pumped 4 sprays onto her tongue.

"You're a quick learner Tory," Grandma Nan said. Tory could feel the pride in Grandma Nan's voice. "It all comes pretty naturally to you, I think. Give her the treats and stay as long as you want. Once she's settled in a bit we'll figure out what else she needs." Grandma Nan walked back to the barn.

Tory looked at the treats in her hand, soaked with Rescue Remedy, and she looked at the horse's huge head. Tory could hear the horse's teeth grinding the hay as she devoured it. Tory slid the treats under the fence as far as she could reach without touching the electric wire.

Tory started to walk away from the paddock, back towards the barn. As soon as she turned her back Tory felt the Paint move towards the treats. Tory looked over her shoulder and smiled to see the Paint crunching the treats. "Maybe I need some time to figure out my purpose too," Tory whispered. The paint looked up at Tory just then and nickered softly. Tory could have sworn she nodded her head.

**Chapter 5**

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of activity. Tory mucked out stalls and replenished the wood shavings on the floor of each stall so the horses would have a fresh bed and clean lodgings when they came back in for the night. She filled each stall with a couple of flakes of hay. Some of the horses got various combination of oats or sweet feed or alfalfa in their buckets and Tory helped prepare the mixtures under the watchful eye of Clara who helped her learn the ropes as she called it. Everything in the feed room was labeled and immaculately organized so anyone could help out easily without worrying about making mistakes.

Tory was amazed to discover herself actually enjoying picking up horse manure in the arena with a manure fork and dumping it into a wheelbarrow. It didn't even smell bad somehow. Once the manure was all picked out of the dirt Clara brought the harrowing machine into the arena. Tory rode on the back of the ATV that pulled the harrowing machine. Clara drove it around the arena speeding up on the straight stretches and slowing down for the turns going around and around from the outside perimeter all the way to the inside as though she was mowing a lawn. The harrowing rake made tracks in the dirt and softened up the sand and dirt so the horses wouldn't hurt their legs. Tory helped set up jumps in the arena so Clara's students could practice their jumping courses. Tory thought they looked frighteningly high but Clara assured her they would be easy manoeuvres for both horse and rider.

Clara explained that the first step to jumping was trotting poles. Together Clara and Tory placed the long fence- post- like poles on the ground. Clara showed Tory how to measure out six long strides between poles so the rider could take the horse over them at a relaxed trot. Clara explained that most riders progressed from trotting poles to x-rail jumps. X-rails were made by using two poles connected on either side by standards. The poles crossed over in the middle and could be raised by placing them higher up on the standard or side pieces. The metal pieces that held the poles Clara explained were called cups and were designed so the pole would fall over easily if the horse knocked the rail, therefore preventing injury to horse and rider. The higher, more advanced, jumps had exotic names like "oxer" and "combination", "parallel" and "vertical". It seemed to Tory like the horse world had a language all its own. It was a world and a language that Clara and Grandma Nan seemed happy to share.

Tory learned how to use saddle soap and pumpkin seed oil to clean off the horse tack. She found she really enjoyed cleaning the saddles and bridles while Clara and Grandma Nan told her stories of horses and riders and the ins and outs of the "operation" as they called the farm. Tory admired their easy banter as they joked and teased each other. The hard work felt satisfying. The saddle soap lathered up easily with just a bit of water and made the leather feel smooth, soft and clean. The pumpkin seed oil smelled wonderful and was slippery to rub into the soft leather. Clara and Grandma Nan took good care of all the tack and encouraged all the school riders to do the same.

One large cupboard in the feed room was devoted to what Clara called "Nan's potions". There were bottles of liquids, vials of medicines Grandma Nan called homeopathic globules, and jars of dried plants and herbal remedies. Some of the jars contained sticky looking suave and there were several tubes of ointments that looked a bit like toothpaste. Nan explained that she bought some of the potions and made others from plants that grew naturally around the farm. There were clean rags to make bandages. Nan showed how she sometimes soaked the bandages in mixtures and applied them to horses' feet or skin to make healing poultices. Clara noticed a bottle of Rescue Remedy and Nan explained that was the first remedy to try when things went wrong or in an emergency, and showed Tory a whole box of vials that she called the Bach Flower Remedies. Nan explained that different remedies helped the horses with different emotions like fear, impatience, and anger.

"Nothing in here we can't all use at one time or another, right Clara," Nan said. Both Tory and Nan had been so absorbed in the healing potions they didn't realize Clara was no longer in the room. "Once I get started on explaining this stuff, I just can't stop," laughed Nan. "Clara's heard it all before, believes in it, but doesn't really understand it. Some people just know it right from the beginning, especially if they have the gift like you do Tory. You'll be teaching me healing things before long I suspect."

Tory meant to ask what Nan meant by "the gift", but she saw a vision of herself and Nan sitting at the table pouring over old books with an array of wildflowers and potions laid out on the table. It was as though Tory could see herself through some purplish haze of light. For the first time ever, it was a vision that didn't seem scary or weird.

"You coming girl," asked Nan? Tory realized Nan had been talking to her and closing up the cupboard, signaling the end of the healing lesson for the day.

"Shouldn't we lock the cupboard," asked Tory? Her parents had always kept medicines far away from Tory's reach and she understood how dangerous pills could be if taken by the wrong person at the wrong time. Tory's father told her lots of stories about responding to overdose calls or situations where little children had taken adult medicines by mistake and got really sick.

"No worries there," said Nan. "All my potions are safe for anyone; man or beast. Either they work or they don't do anything. That's the best part about it all. Makes me feel free to experiment without thinking I'm going to kill someone! The girls that know what they are doing are allowed to come in here and use the stuff anytime they know it's needed. Now let's go help Clara make the rounds."

Tory learned the difference between the paddocks, the gelding field and the mare field. Although she knew she'd never remember them, she was told all the horses names.

When it was time to bring the horses in for the night, Grandma Nan seemed to understand Tory's reluctance to lead any of the big horses. They were all anxious for their food and seemed scary as they crowded around the fence waiting and jockeying for position as they all wanted to be led in first. Instead of taking any horses, Tory manned the gates, closing one and then opening the other so only a few horses at a time were clustered together. Grandma Nan was firm with some and gentle with others and seemed totally in control. Tory couldn't imagine how she managed to lead four and five horses all at once, but they all settled down and seemed to respect Grandma Nan as being the one that called the shots.

Tory did summon her courage and lead one yellow colored pony, which Grandma Nan explained was called a palomino, into her stall. The little pony named Firefly seemed to understand Tory was just learning and didn't push or rush into her stall but with very ladylike steps followed patiently behind Tory. Firefly waited for Tory to unbuckle the lead rope and halter before bending her head to eat the hay and oats that were waiting. Tory gave her a special pat and a hug. Tory thanked Firefly for her gentleness by sneaking an extra horse treat for her. Tory held her palm flat with the treat in the middle to offer it to Firefly the way she saw Grandma Nan do it. Firefly's lips gently tickled Tory's hand when she took the treat and Tory felt a contentment she hadn't experienced in a long time. Tory felt like she had made a friend for life.

Several times during the busy day, Tory found herself checking to see how the big paint was doing and each time the mare looked up anxiously when she saw Tory watching. It seemed she had as much to learn about the farm as Tory did. The horse jumped and spooked every time she heard a new noise or saw her shadow. Even the birds in the trees seemed to make her anxious. She seemed to want to eat but kept blowing on her food in loud snorts and pawing the ground beside it as though she just didn't know if anything was safe or could be trusted.

On the way back to the house at the end of the day Grandma Nan put her arm around Tory's shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. "You were a big help around here today Tory," she said. "You're a quick learner, that's for the sure."

As they walked past the Paint's paddock, Grandma Nan surprised Tory. "So what do you think her name should be," she asked as she gestured towards the still frightened horse? You get the honors this time."

"I think she should be Gentle Giant." Tory was rather surprised to hear those words coming out of her mouth. She hadn't realized she had even thought of the name until it just came out. "We could call her G.G. for short."

Grandma Nan looked thoughtful. "Gentle Giant," she mused. "I think that's just about perfect for her. What do you say G.G?"

GG raised her head and for a second she didn't look quite so scared.

Tory left a treat on the fence post for her, knowing she'd wait till they was long gone before she'd dare retrieve it.

"That's the way, Tory," Grandma Nan said. "Some things just can't be rushed. GG will come around, she just needs some time."

Tory understood just how G.G. felt.

**Chapter 6**

As they approached the house Tory saw her father sitting on the front step absently patting Rusty while he drank a bottle of pop and watched Clara drive her shiny red Jeep down the driveway and back to her house. He seemed to be in deep thought, maybe visiting ghosts from the past, and didn't even notice Clara and Nan until they were at the bottom step.

In an excited rush, Tory started to tell him all about her day, including the addition of G.G. and her new accomplishments as a barn hand. As she collapsed on the step beside him he seemed to come out of his daydream and squeezed her close to him.

"Grandma Nan, who is this and what did you do with my daughter Tory," he teased? "Who is this person who is excited about horses and knows all about tack and jumps and hay and feed? You've traded my daughter for some dirty stable hand."

Grandma Nan winked at Tory and said, "Watch out or we'll make a cowboy out of you yet!" With that Grandma Nan appeared to re-energize, and she pushed herself off the porch railing and opened the front door. "Time to get supper happening," she said. "You two wash up and then come help with the cooking. Everyone's got to do their share around here."

Tory's Dad gave her another squeeze and neither of them moved from the stairs. When Grandma Nan had disappeared into the house, Tory's Dad said, "So you really had a good day Pumpkin? Grandma Nan didn't push you too hard did she?"

Tory felt a lump in her throat. It had been a long time since her Dad had called her Pumpkin and the old nickname sounded good.

"I had a great day," Tory said. "I think I really like horses." She thought of poor scared G.G. "They just need love and understanding. Why don't you come with me and meet G.G. after supper?"

"We'll see," said her Dad. "I've got some news too. But I'm starving. I'll tell you both over supper." He stood up and pulled Tory up with him. Tory could feel every muscle in her body strain with the effort of just moving. Supper followed by a long bubble bath and a soft bed was going to feel really good.

Grandma Nan was already in the kitchen when Tory came back downstairs cleaned up somewhat, wearing the blue plaid flannel paints that her Dad always said looked like pajamas, and a fuzzy pink sweatshirt. She was carrying St. Albert in her arms. He had been sleeping peacefully in the sun on her windowsill when she went up to her room. Tory poured food into his white porcelain dish with the crown on it. St. Albert glanced at Rusty, swished his tail at him, and then regally settled in to eat his supper like the king he figured he was. Tory marveled at St. Albert's ability to adjust so quickly. It was as if St. Albert had lived on the farm all his life.

Grandma Nan had potatoes boiling on the stove, and chicken cooking in the oven. She was cutting apples for a crumble desert. She directed Tory to start making a tossed salad from the greens, tomatoes and cucumbers they had picked from the garden earlier. Tory's father was setting the table and filling water glasses. Everybody seemed quite at home and comfortable with their chores. It seemed to Tory that Grandma Nan had a real way of making everyone feel useful and part of things. Grandma Nan didn't do things for people; she got them involved so they could do things for themselves.

Thirty minutes later they were sitting around the table with what looked like a feast to Tory and her Dad. "A little better than the fast food stuff we've been eating lately eh Tory," said her father. "The only lettuce or tomato we've seen in awhile has been squished between hamburgers and buns. That's assuming this green stuff is lettuce of some kind," he said as he raised his eyebrows at Grandma Nan. "I'm never sure what might come out of your garden."

"Not much choice but to eat what you grow and cook around here," said Grandma Nan. "The only place that qualifies for fast food is the grocery store in town." Folks have to make their own hamburgers and pizzas here on the island."

Tory was starting to understand why her mother might have wanted to leave although she still couldn't imagine why she wouldn't have come back to visit at least. The idea of calling a place town when you couldn't even buy fast food didn't really seem to make any sense. But Tory's father pulled her away from her thoughts with his news.

"So, I've got everything worked out at the fire hall," he said. "I'm the senior medic out here. In fact, I'm the only medic. The rest of the guys on shift and some of the volunteers have some first aid training but not much. So in addition to running the calls with my regular crew, I'm going to be doing a lot of extra training for the guys. I've also agreed to carry a radio and be on call anytime they have something serious that they need me for. I hope you guys are okay without me around a lot," he said as he looked down at his plate and start shoveling in food.

Tory saw Grandma Nan purse her lips, as she suddenly seemed to need to check on the apple cobbler, which was doing just fine. Tory had come to realize that pursed- lips- look meant Grandma Nan had something on her mind that she knew she shouldn't or wouldn't say. Tory felt a stab of irritation herself.

"So what else is new," Tory said. "You were working all the time back home too." As soon as she said it she felt guilty and sorry. She didn't mean to make her father feel bad, but she had thought things were going to be different here and she liked spending time with him. Maybe she should learn to purse her lips more often!

Tory's Dad opened his mouth to comment, and no doubt argue, when they were all startled by the tones going off on his radio. They listened as the rescue unit was dispatched to a farmhouse. It appeared a four-year-old child was missing and a search was being organized. The responding crew notified the dispatcher that they were on their way. No one asked for her Dad, but somehow Tory wasn't surprised when he jumped from the chair, squeezed her shoulder quickly, and said, "I'd better go guys. We'll talk about this later. I won't be long."

Grandma Nan and Tory listened in silence as Tory's Dad took off down the driveway in a hurry, driving the pickup truck he had bought in town without even asking Tory what she thought of it, let alone offering her a drive.

"Well, cobbler's ready," Grandma Nan said, a bit louder than was necessary in the suddenly quiet house.

The apple cobbler was delicious and after Grandma Nan and Tory had each had two pieces they got started on the clean up.

"You know it sure is good to have someone else around this big old place Tory, even if it is only one of you instead of the two of you. I've been alone for too long. Once Clara goes home this place seems a bit big and quiet for Old Rusty and me. Plus, you're just plain ole good company I guess." Grandma Nan gave Tory a big bear hug, and Tory couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw her brush away a tear.

"I think I'll go take a bit of a walk before I have a bath," said Tory as she pulled on her now filthy barn sneakers.

"Better take a carrot if you're going to see her," said Grandma Nan.

It wasn't until she was leaning over the fence watching G.G. and wishing that her father were with her that Tory realized Grandma Nan had known exactly where she was going without Tory telling her.

After a long hot bubble bath Tory snuggled into the pink bedroom with a book called _Healing Horses Naturally_. Grandma Nan had offered Tory anything and everything from her well stocked library. Tory decided to read until her Dad got home. When she felt the covers being pulled up around her she woke to see her father sitting on her bed. The bedside clock said 2:17a.m.

"Go back to sleep Pumpkin," her Dad said as he closed the book she had been reading hours before and placed in on her bedside table before shutting off the light.

"Did you find the little boy," Tory mumbled still mostly asleep?

"Yeah," her Dad said. "We sure did."

Tory woke up a bit more and asked, "Was he hurt? Is he okay? Where did you find him?"

"Yeah, he's okay. Guess he was playing hide and seek. He was hungry but not hurt. His Mom and Dad sure are happy to see him snuggled in tonight. We searched all through the property and woods and finally found him hiding in the barn. He was scared he was going to get in trouble for causing so much fuss," her Dad told her.

"Poor guy," mumbled Tory and the last thing she felt was her father kiss her forehead and St. Albert's weight on her legs, before she fell into a deep sleep.

**Chapter 7**

In a quiet moment Tory sat on G.G's fence and considered how her life was going. It was four weeks ago that Tory, her Dad, and St. Albert, had arrived at the farm.

Over the summer Tory settled into a busy routine around the farm. She got up early every day and helped let out the horses, clean out stalls, and restock hay and feed. There were always a few extra chores to be done like fencing to fix or broken water feeders to clean out. One long hot week there had been bales and bales of hay to stack in the loft. Sometimes the vet would come to check on a horse. There were always bandages to prepare with potions and change as healing happened and wounds changed. Because almost all of the new horses came with problems and injuries Tory was quickly learning which remedies to use and how to use them.

Every couple of weeks the Natural Hoof Trimmer would come and it was Tory's job to catch the horses that needed hoof trimmings and hold them while the trimmer worked. Tory learned the difference between natural hoof care and what ferriers did. Often new horses had to have shoes removed so healing could begin. Like all the women that seemed to play big roles on the farm, the Trimmer was gentle but firm and seemed to understand the horses on a deep level.

Tory lost the 10 pounds she had gained and developed muscles in her legs and arms she didn't even know she had before. On Clara's advice she cut her long black hair short. Everyone said how great it looked framing her face but not hiding it. In the humid air of the Island it curled on the ends and bounced with full body as though it were energized as much as Tory. And it was much easier to look after. Tory could no longer be bothered with curling irons, hot curlers and conditioners all the time when there were horses to ride and look after.

By mid-morning every day Clara, Tory and Grandma Nan stopped their work and met in the tack room. There they would sip on cool iced-tea or real lemonade and munch on the homemade cookies Grandma Nan always had on hand. t was a chance to re-group and discuss problems or solutions and sometimes it just became "girl talk" or "horse talk". It was also a chance to relax and just be the "team of three" as they called themselves, before all the other kids started arriving. Before noon there would be tons of Clara's students just hanging around before their lessons. They sometimes exercised horses or helped with chores or cleaned tack. Most of them were girls Tory's age and they all shared the common love of horses and just wanted to be around them. Some of them were "cottage kids" which meant their families only spent the summer on the Island. They all brought lunches with them and at noon they would all gather out in the grass and share food and pretend they were horses, jumping over any obstacle they could make, find, or imagine. Tory started making a lot of good friends. She knew she was considered different. Tory realized the others were jealous that she got to live at the farm, could ride whenever she wanted to and had a special "in" with both Nan and Clara. But they all had horses in common so the rest of their lives weren't really important.

After lunch, in the heat of the afternoon while the horses were out grazing in the fields and the barns were all cleaned and ready to go, the girls and Clara would often walk through the trail in the woods to the beach for a swim in the cold salty ocean. Tory loved floating on her back softly rocked by the waves while she watched the clouds above. Life seemed easier on the Island and Tory was beginning to feel at peace with things.

Best of all were the afternoons when lessons began in earnest. Girls of similar levels and abilities were grouped together and Tory watched them all. She gained tips and learned a lot by just watching and listening to the instructions Clara told them. Under Clara's patient but firm schooling, Tory was becoming a good rider. Clara said she had a "good seat" and most importantly she had "horse sense". Tory had gained confidence around the horses and rode lots of different ones as Clara encouraged her to try different horses so she could ride anything. Firefly was Tory's lesson horse though and they rode in the beginner class every afternoon. Just as she had on that very first day, Firefly seemed to understand Tory and was careful with her, taking her expertly over her first trotting pole and then her first cross rail. While Tory still either walked or trotted the other horses, she could canter on Firefly and loved the rhythmic feeling and speed as much as Firefly seemed to.

Grandma Nan rarely watched the lessons although she seemed to love to hear about Tory's successes and would give her riding tips now and then. While the lessons were going on Grandma Nan usually found a reason to head to town to buy supplies or feed or an extra piece of tack from the Farm Supply Store. Sometimes Grandma Nan snuck out to her garden or back to the house where she made her famous cookies and healing potions under the watchful eye of St. Albert. He kept himself a house cat, and never associated with the wide variety of barn cats that hung around the barns and tack room. Clara said she thought watching the lessons might have reminded Grandma Nan too much of watching Tory's mother ride. Grandma Nan insisted she didn't watch because she didn't want to butt into Clara's territory or say something she shouldn't.

Tory was disappointed that her father never came to watch her. He always seemed to be at work, or going to work, or sleeping because he had been working. Tory wanted him to be proud of her and her accomplishments but he just seemed consumed by work as though nothing else mattered.

After all the lessons were over and the other girls had left, Clara and Tory did the final cleaning and organizing. They talked while they worked and Tory sometimes discussed her father with Clara. She seemed to really understand. Clara often asked Tory about her Dad and what things had been like before her mother had died. It felt good to be able to talk about her mother to someone that wasn't hurting as bad as she was but still cared. Tory also learned a lot about Clara. She knew she lived alone after a marriage that broke up on bad terms. Her ex-husband still lived on the Island but Clara avoided him as best as she could. And it was through Clara that Tory found a lot out about her mother. Clara had known her mother before she took off and told Tory about what a wonderful rider she was and how close she was to Grandma Nan. Tory felt she could tell Clara anything. She told Clara how she was nervous about school in the fall and Clara assured her she would be fine, that she already knew a lot of the girls in her class and boys didn't like horses so what was the point anyway. Clara was smart and worldly and very good at keeping a secret, like their special project with G.G.

Clara and Tory spent time every day with G.G. Clara would watch and give pointers while Tory got closer and closer to G.G. so that she could pat her back and stroke her thick neck. No one else could get near her and Clara never tried to interfere. She said the Gentle Giant was a one-person horse and she thought Tory was the only person for her. G.G. put on some weight and most of the cuts had healed but she was still shy and skitterish. Tory could now get a halter on her and lead her. Tory sometimes took G.G. into the mare field and let her loose with the other horses but G.G. kept her distance from them and didn't play with them. They seemed to respect her shyness and because of her size, left her to herself. G.G. always seemed a bit relieved to have Tory come back and lead her back to her own private paddock. Clara said G.G. would never be a real jumping or show horse, but she thought Tory might one day be able to get a saddle on her and ride her on trails.

In the meantime, Tory had lots of work to do getting herself ready for the show. At the end of every summer, just before school started, there was a big show jumping event at the local arena grounds. Most of the girls at Meadowlands had been in lots of shows. They claimed this one was the most fun and signaled the end of the summer. Clara encouraged Tory to enter a few classes. Clara said Tory was ready and this would be an easy introduction to the show world. Tory was nervous but excited at the same time.

Tory was startled from her daydreaming by Grandma Nan. She was pulling up the driveway in her pinkish truck. The back was weighted down with bags of oats. Tory ran to help unload before supper. As Tory reached Ole'Pinky, as the truck was affectionately called, Grandma Nan stuck her arm out the open window and waved some papers in the air, "I've got the entry forms for the show," she called excitedly.

**Chapter 8**

The barn was buzzing with tension, excitement and nerves, only two days before the show. The horses could feel it and were anxious, jittery and obstinate, as they couldn't figure out what these nervous humans were all uptight about even as they felt the energy.

Tory ran through the kitchen on her way upstairs to retrieve her helmet she'd forgotten, and found her father sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. As was so often the case, he was up most of the night on a call, and his radio was, as usual, strapped to his belt so he could bolt as soon as someone called him.

"Dad," Tory said. "What are you doing home?"

"Just grabbing a cup of coffee before I head off for a training session," he said. "What's with all the running around here? Everyone's half crazy. Grandma Nan is muttering to herself, Clara's swearing like a sailor at the ATV, and you're running around like a chicken with her head cut off, as Grandma Nan would say."

"Dad, the show is only two days away," Tory said, horrified that he might have forgotten it. "Promise me you'll be there to watch!"

"Don't worry Pumpkin," he smiled. "I'll be there to watch you steal the show. You're going to be great. Clara told me how impressed she is with you. I can't wait to see you get all those ribbons."

"Dad, no one wins ribbons the first show they go in," said Tory. "Besides it's not about winning ribbons, it's about doing your best and pushing yourself," she said, echoing Clara's words to her.

Tory's father smiled. "That sounds like good Clara advice," he said. "But you and Firefly will be great."

Tory smiled and gave her father a hug around the shoulders. "I'm impressed that you remembered Firefly's name," she said.

"I know I haven't been around much," her father said as he rubbed his temples. "It's just this work thing. The guys need so much help and they are so keen to learn and it's a lot busier than I thought it would be. Nobody ever seems to get sick or hurt at a good time."

"I understand Dad," Tory said. "But just promise me you'll make it to the show. I want you to see how well I'm doing. Riding has become really important to me. It kind of makes me feel connected to Mom."

The squawk of the radio saved them both from a tearful moment as once again Tory's Dad sprang into action, this time to back up a crew that was on scene with a man having a heart attack.

"I love you Pumpkin," Tory's Dad called as he headed out the door.

"Love you too Dad," Tory whispered to the closed door. Then she shook off her memories and ran upstairs to find her helmet.

When Tory raced back to the barn she was shocked to find it quiet and empty. Instead of the usual chatter, noises and laughing during the pre-lesson tack up, the lights were off and the only sounds were the contented crunch of horses munching on hay. Then Clara appeared from the tack room. Instead of wearing her usual riding pants and T-shirt, she was dressed in fitted skinny jeans and a pale green silk shirt that brought out her eyes. She had just a touch of make-up on and looked glamorous, not at all "horsey".

"What... you look great...but, what's going on," Tory stuttered out.

"You and I are going shopping," announced Clara.

"But what about lessons and the show and practicing," asked Tory?

"Everyone is just too jittery to learn anything," said Clara. "And you've all got the horses crazy. I sent everyone home to take a day off, and relax. We'll get one more practice in tomorrow after everyone's had a chance to breathe. But in the meantime, I've got a credit card from your father to go and buy you some new riding gear for the show. I thought you deserved something new instead of those second hand things you've been using and your father agreed. So we're headed to the mainland!"

Tory couldn't believe what she was hearing. She hadn't been on a shopping trip since they moved and she so wanted to look really sharp for the show. For a second it flashed through her mind to wonder when her father and Clara had a chance to talk, but before she had a second to ask, Clara was rushing her back to the house to change before they missed the ferry.

Clara was as efficient and effective a shopper as she was a rider. She knew all the places to go and how to get there. The first place they stopped was the tack shop. Clara hesitated on the sidewalk outside the door. "The woman who runs this store is like about a hundred years old but she knows everything about tack and has the best prices anywhere. We'll be able to get you outfitted perfectly here."

Clara was greeted with hugs and kisses by the "hundred- year- old woman" who only really looked about Grandma Nan's age. "Clara, it's been too long since I've seen you," she said. "How are things on the Island? And how is my friend Nan?" Before Clara could even open her mouth to answer, the woman suddenly noticed Tory. "Oh my goodness," she exclaimed and covered her gaping mouth with her well- manicured, multi-ringed hand. "You must be Samantha's daughter. You are the splitting image of her. It's like I'm seeing a ghost." She turned to Clara. "Isn't it remarkable Clara? And here you are, teaching your old friend's daughter to ride. Samantha would be so pleased. Well then, enough with the emotions," she said, quickly turning to business. "What do you need today?"

Clara, sensing Tory might be overwhelmed by so much familiarity jumped in. "Well, Mrs. Carson we need show riding clothes for Tory. The whole works. She's going in the fall show this weekend. It's her first show, so we want her to look great."

"Well, that won't be hard to do. With her height and shape she's suited to riding gear that's for sure," said Mrs. Carson as she appraised Tory's size. "Let's see then." She started sorting through riding jodhpurs on the rack. "I always think the white ones look the best for shows. Try these on for starters," she said as she passed Tory three pairs of pants. "We'll find some shirts to pass in to you. The dressing rooms are over there."

Tory pulled on the tight fitting pants just as Mrs. Carson handed a dress shirt in over the curtain.

"Try this on with them and then let us see," said Mrs. Carson. "Now what about boots," she asked Clara?

Clara nodded. "Yup, I got the go- ahead from Frank to get them too. ory's Dad said to get everything she needs to feel like a star."

Tory couldn't believe her ears. She had been wearing second hand paddock boots one of the other girls had outgrown and a pair of half chaps Grandma Nan had bought her on one of her numerous trips to town. Riding boots were so expensive. But the next thing she knew Mrs. Carson was asking her size and then passing her in a pair of the high black boots with the zippers up the back and the laces on the instep that Tory had been admiring in magazines for weeks.

When everything was on, Tory stepped out of the dressing room. Both Mrs. Carson and Clara smiled their approval and Clara rushed to hug her. "You definitely look like a star," said Clara. Firefly is going to be as impressed as your father!"

Everyone laughed at that, and then suddenly Mrs. Carson gasped.

**Chapter 9**

Mrs. Carson turned pale, leaned against the wall, and made a fluttering motion with her hand. "You won't believe what I've just remembered. Just let me catch my breath for a minute and I'll explain," she said and she walked to the back of the store.

Tory looked at Clara. "Do you think she's all right? Should we call an ambulance or something? Did I do something wrong? Was there something wrong with Dad's credit card or something?"

Clara laughed. "No worries Tory. Mrs. Carson is a bit of a Drama Queen in case you didn't notice. I should have warned you about that. She watches a lot of old movies and can be prone to a "case of the vapors." Clara pretended to fan herself and swoon like someone from _Gone with the Wind_. "She's a sweetheart, but the reason she and Nan are such good friends is because they are total opposites. Nothing grounded and practical about Mrs. Carson, except for the way she runs her business."

Tory could suddenly picture Mrs Carson in a swirling ball gown, elbow length gloves and a delicate fan in her hand as she appeared back the way she came from the store room holding a garment bag. "It must be twelve years ago since Samantha took off isn't it," Mrs. Carson kept talking as though she had never left the room. Without waiting for anyone to answer she went on. "Well, the weekend before she left she was in here for a fitting for a show riding jacket. It was supposed to be for the championship show that year and everyone knew she would win. She tried one on but the sleeves needed to be hemmed. I fitted her and took the measurements and we sent it off for the alterations. But by the time the jacket came back, Samantha was already gone. Ran off with Frank we were told. 've kept it all these years. couldn't bear to take it to Nan and bring back the memories and of course I wouldn't sell it, so it's been in the back all these years. It's just perfect for you Tory, and you're just the person to wear it."

While Tory and Clara stood speechless, Mrs. Carson opened up the zipper and took out a beautiful black show jacket. Before Tory could even blink, Mrs. Carson had the jacket on her and was doing up the buttons. "These things never change in style so it will be just right as long as it fits," Mrs. Carson assured Tory.

Mrs. Carson brushed tears from her eyes and said, "Well, it just fits like a glove. It's as though it was measured just for you all along. Oh my dears, I feel as though a circle has been completed today."

Once everything was taken off and wrapped up. Clara and Tory, loaded with packages, including jodhpurs, riding helmet, boots, show shirt, new saddle blanket, crop, and of course, the jacket, left the store. They were almost blown across the street by the force of the wind that had suddenly crept up while they were shopping.

"Wow," said Clara trying to lighten the mood. "After all that, I think we need a hamburger and fries! ''

Over fast food, Clara and Tory talked and laughed as Clara told Tory stories of her mother and past shows and things they had done together. Clara explained how Frank, Tory's father, had been a summer tourist. His parents owned a cottage and for years he came every summer and left every fall. Everyone thought he was so sophisticated and handsome because he had city ways and city clothes and yet was so easy going and friendly. Clara said all the girls were after him but he only ever had eyes for Samantha. "He used to come to the shows and sneeze and smile all the time just hoping for a glance from Samantha. He was scared to death of the horses I think but he tried to act big so Samantha would think he was worthwhile. He always wore sunglasses even inside the barns and we thought that was so cool. Funny, he just told me the other day it was because his eyes were running from the allergies!" Clara suddenly looked as though she was dreaming of something else and Tory once again wondered when Clara and her father had talked to each other but before she could ask, Clara looked at her watch, "Oh my goodness," she said. "We'll be late for our appointment! Come on Tory." Clara jumped up and started gathering up the packages.

"What appointment," asked Tory? We've got all the stuff I need and then some."

"Time for a manicure," Clara said.

"A manicure," Tory shrieked! "It will be wrecked in 5 minutes around the horses."

"Just cause a girl is horsey and competent, doesn't mean she can't look good," said Clara, sounding very much like Grandma Nan. "This part was Grandma Nan's treat and she said to make sure the polish was pink!"

With bright pink, sparkly nail polish and perfectly filed nails, Clara, Tory, and all their packages, just made it to the ferry terminal in time for the last boat across. The weather was getting so rough they were canceling all crossings after this one. The deck- hands warned them a hurricane was headed their way. Thankful to have made it aboard, Tory and Clara collapsed in the cabin seats and were too tired to even notice the high waves and winds on the way over.

The drive from the ferry terminal on the Island side to Meadowlands was slow as Clara manoeuvred the jeep through the wind. Tree branches were blowing across the road in places and they were both glad to see the lights of the barn and the house as they pulled in the lane.

Grandma Nan was waiting at the window and held the door open against the wind shepherding them inside with the packages. "It's good to see you home," she said. "Quite a storm out there and worse predicted through the night. Thunder and lightning will be coming soon, and then heavy rain I imagine. Clara you'll stay here tonight. No sense you going home in this and we might need your help if the horses get anxious. It looks like we're in for a bit of a hurricane."

"Where's Dad? I want to show him my new stuff. I can't believe he cooked this up with Clara. I've got everything Grandma Nan. And thanks, look at the wonderful nail polish," Tory was excited all over again as she hugged Grandma Nan and talked all at the same time.

"Sorry, he went down to the fire hall to make sure the trucks were all secured in the wind," Grandma Nan said, pursed lips again. "I told him you'd be wanting to show him what you got. He said he'd be back soon." Just then, almost as though on cue with Grandma Nan's words, the sound of sirens pierced through the wind.

"Or maybe not," said Tory. "I'm going to take this stuff upstairs."

She could feel Clara and Grandma Nan looking at each other as she headed up the stairs. She knew both of them were thinking her father should be home. Wanting to stick up for him, Tory said, "Oh well, he'll see it all at the show," but she felt her voice catch through the lump as she said it.

She _hoped_ he'd be at the show.

**Chapter 10**

Once in her bedroom Tory couldn't resist trying on the riding clothes again. She lovingly took each piece out of the bags and separated them from the tissue paper Mrs. Carson had so painstakingly wrapped them in. As she arranged them on the bed, Tory thought about what a great day it had been. It felt like she and Clara were sisters sharing secrets and laughs and just having fun all day.

Tory pulled on the jodhpurs, then the sleeveless shirt with the high collar and zippered up the boots. She reverently unbuttoned the jacket from its hanger and put it on. She twirled in front of the mirror. She felt fabulous and knew she looked great. Pretending to model for a crowd as well as Saint Albert, Tory slipped her hands into the pockets of the jacket. Her fingers felt paper. Must be the receipt she thought as she pulled it out.

Tory felt her legs buckle underneath her as she sank onto the bed while staring at the faded lavender envelope with the words "Mom" in her hand. Tory couldn't believe what she held in her hand; a letter to Grandma Nan from Samantha. The envelope was still sealed and appeared to have never been opened. For a fleeting moment Tory considered taking it downstairs to Grandma Nan. But she felt this was her right to open first. With shaking hands she carefully opened the envelope and pulled out one page of lavender writing paper.

She read her mother's familiar handwriting:

Dear Mom

By the time you get this letter I'll be long gone so don't let Daddy try and follow us. I know this will hurt and I'm sorry for that because I love you both very much. But this is something I must do.

Frank and I are very very much in love. He's the best part of my life and I can't imagine life without him. We are soul mates and meant to be with each other. I'm going to have his baby. We didn't mean for this to happen but we are both happy about it and excited about our future.

I don't think people on the Island will understand this very well and we have more opportunities off the Island. Frank is going to get a job, we are going to get married right away and raise our baby in love and happiness.

I know Daddy wanted me to be a champion rider and ride in the Nations Cup but I can't take the chance of hurting the baby. That's why we're leaving tonight. I know Daddy won't understand and will be mad, but I'm hoping you'll be able to imagine what I feel and maybe someday can explain it to Daddy. I love the horses and riding and hope to always have that IN my life but Frank and this baby ARE my life. You have always told me how important it is to protect those you love and trust your intuition not your head. That's why I'm doing this. This feels right.

Once we have got settled and given Daddy some time to cool down I'll call you. I love you very very much and hope you can understand how much Frank and this baby mean to me.

Love

Sam

Tory felt the shock run through her body. She had been that baby! Her mother had given up this life and career and all the horses because of her. She had never really meant to leave the Island for good but her father had never accepted her going away and so she had never came back. Tears poured down Tory's face. She wasn't sure what to feel except guilt and anguish. Everything was her fault. It was her fault her mother had not ridden in the Nations Cup and been a champion. It was her fault her mother had given up the wonderful Island life, and worst of all, it was her fault her mother had died.

Suddenly Tory felt trapped inside the pink bedroom. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve this happiness. The riding and the riding clothes and the shows and the horses were all a farce. They didn't belong to her, they should have been her mothers and she had taken it all away.

Tears streamed down her face, as Tory un-zippered the boots and struggled to pull them off. While she pealed out of the jodhpurs and jacket and shirt she felt panic rising up in her. She had to get away, to think outside the walls of her mother's things. She grabbed her barn clothes and old riding boots. She wasn't sure what her plan was, or if she even had one, she just knew she had to get out of the house. She snuck down the stairs, carrying her boots and being careful not to walk on the squeaky step so Grandma Nan and Clara, watching television in the living room, wouldn't hear a sound. Rusty didn't even lift his head from his spot on the floor at their feet.

Once outside, the wind kept slamming into Tory, making it hard to walk. Rain mixed with her tears and soaked her face. The howling wind felt good as it masked her sobs.

In a wild panic Tory made her way to G.G's paddock. G.G. poked her head out from the shelter, ears laid back in fear as she heard someone approach. When she saw it was Tory she neighed softly, glad to see her friend. Tory buried her face in G.G's strong neck and cried.

"Oh G.G.," she sobbed. "Everything's my fault. You are the only one who can really understand because you're just as much a misfit as me. You lost your baby and I lost my mother."

G.G. seemed to tremble under Tory as the plan formed in Tory's mind. She grabbed G.G's halter from the fence post. Calmer now Tory patted G.G. as she quickly slipped the halter over her nose and behind her ears, buckling the clip at her cheek. Then Tory looped the lead rope over G.G's neck and tied it to the other side of the halter so that it fashioned crude reins.

G.G. hesitated for only a second as the wind howled around her shelter and then she followed Tory her beloved friend. Tory led G.G. to the fence, climbed up on the top railing and, as though she had done it all before, slid expertly onto G.G.'s back. G.G.'s head snapped up at the sudden weight but as Tory stroked her neck G.G. seemed to decide everything was okay and she walked out of the paddock and towards the woods as Tory guided her.

Tory leaned over G.G.'s neck and hugged her. "Good girl G.G.," she cooed. "Let's go to the spot Clara told me about; where Mommy and Daddy used to meet all the time. Maybe when we get there I can figure out what to do." Once on the trail, G.G. quickened her pace as though she understood the urgency and knew where she was going.

They plodded through the path for a long time. The branches swayed crazily in the wind but G.G. never seemed to spook, confident with Tory on her back. Thunder started to rumble in the distance, the rain picked up even harder, and the path turned slippery underfoot. A sudden crack of thunder felt close enough to make the very woods move, and a streak of lightening created shadows among the trees. Without warning, G.G. bolted and tore off the path at a gallop, rushing forward to outrace the demons making the loud noises and fierce lightening behind her. Tory held on, wrapped her lower legs even tighter around G.G.'s belly and grasped as much mane as possible in both hands. For a second they seemed to fly together, until G.G. slipped in the mud and went down. Tory flew off her back landing hard on the ground.

The world stopped as Tory struggled to catch a breath while no air seemed to come. When she finally got her breath, she slowly rose to her knees and realized she was alive and relatively unharmed. She had no idea how long she had been lying there. Then her fear turned to G.G. and once again Tory felt panic rise in her.

"G.G., G.G.," she called through the howling wind. "G.G. where are you?"

Tory heard the familiar nicker and realized G.G. was loyally standing right behind her in the trees. She kept her front foot raised slightly, unable to put any weight on it as she tried to hobble toward Tory. Tory limped to G.G., while her ankle sent daggers of pain from her toes to her head. Tory gently stroked G.G.'s neck and slid her hand down G.G's withers all the way to the end of her foot as she had seen Grandma Nan do. Tory was relieved to feel no obvious broken bone but she could see a dark red, fuzzy, aura of light around G.G's leg.

"I think it's okay G.G.," Tory said. But G.G. seemed to think otherwise as she refused to put her full weight on it. "We'll wait out the storm here G.G.," Tory said. Then I'll get you back to the farm and get you looked at. Now I've hurt you too," Tory sobbed and collapsed on the ground beside G.G. She buried her head in her knees. "It seems like I hurt everyone I love."

G.G. whipped up her head and pinned back her ears just as Tory heard a deep voice say, "Not true."

Tory lifted her head to see her father, soaking wet, walking towards her. "Oh Daddy," she cried as he seemed to scoop her up and smoother her in a huge wet hug.

"Pumpkin," her father whispered not seeming to trust his voice. "Are you okay? We were so worried. We've been looking for you for hours."

"I'm okay," Tory said and everything came out in a jumble of words. "I've messed everything up. I found this letter from Mom to Grandma Nan, and I tried to find the place where you used to meet so I could think. And we got scared. Now I've hurt G.G. too. It's my fault Mom left the Island in the first place, and I don't belong here and everything's a mess. And it's my fault Mom died. "

"Oh, Pumpkin." Tory's father wrapped her in his arms and sank onto the ground so that she was pulled into his lap like when she was three years old.

For moments they just sat there like that. Tory's father rocked them back and forth as they both cried, Tory's head buried into the wet fleece of his sweater, his head buried in her soaked hair. When he finally thought he could trust his voice again, Frank said. "Honey it's not your fault. I'm the adult here and I'm supposed to pick up the pieces and I haven't done a very good job. It wasn't your fault your mother died and it wasn't my fault either. For a long time I thought I was to blame. If I had of been home sooner I could have driven to the video store, or taken you both out to the movies, or just done something different. I kept running that day and night through my head figuring out all the reasons to think it was my fault. And the worst was that I'm trained to save people and I couldn't save her. I just realized tonight while I was talking to Carla that I've been hiding in my blame. I figured if I could go to every call, and work on every patient, and save everyone who ever got hurt or sick, I could somehow save your mother. But I can't. She's gone. But we're left Tory. And all we can do is pick up the pieces and love each other and build the type of family and life she would have wanted us to live. She would be so proud of you and I'm going to make her proud of me. Without question you are the most important person to me, and I'm going to be there for you. I'm so sorry Tory. I love you so much."

Tory wrapped her arms even closer around him, safe in the security that it was going to be okay. "I love you too Daddy," she said. "And I really like it here. I want to stay and be a family here."

"Me too Pumpkin, me too," whispered Tory's Dad, still not trusting his voice.

"So we better get back," said Tory's Dad. "Grandma Nan and Carla are at their wits end; figured you're hurt out here somewhere. Looks like both you and your horse are going to have limp back. Come on, I know a short cut home. It will only take us a few minutes as long as I can remember it in the dark."

"How did you find us anyway," asked Tory?

"Well, this is the spot where your mother always came when she was upset or wanted to think. It's the spot we used to meet. You're so much like her; I figured you might find the spot too. And I figured even if you weren't here, maybe coming up here would help me find some kind of sign. I was pretty scared." He reached up and touched the bark of the tree Tory had been leaning on. Tory saw the inscription there circled with a heart:

Sam & Frank

4 ever

Tory, her Dad, and the Gentle Giant gingerly made it through the slippery woods path. G.G. limped but seemed to understand she was heading back to the safety of her paddock. Tory talked soothingly to her along the way and figured out all the remedies she would need to heal.

The lights of the barn and Grandma Nan's house welcomed them across the field and even G.G. seemed to quicken her pace as she saw Clara and Grandma Nan standing on the porch.

Grandma Nan ran out to meet them, leaned down and cupped Tory's face in her hands. "Are you really okay? You're not hurt? We were so worried."

"We're okay," said Tory. "We're home now." Tory collapsed in Grandma Nan's arms and cried all over again while Carla hugged Frank.

"You coming home has made a lot of wrongs right," Grandma Nan whispered. She swiped at her eyes and said, "Enough of this, let's get G.G. to her paddock and you warm and dry. We've got a show in the morning!"

**Chapter 11**

At 4:30 on Saturday morning Tory awoke to the buzzing of her alarm clock. It felt like she had just gone to sleep. She moaned as she rolled over to shut off the annoying noise and felt every muscle in her body ache.

In fact it had been a long night without much sleep. After Tory and her father had arrived back at the farm with G.G., Tory had insisted on helping Grandma Nan get G.G. settled and comfortable back in her paddock before going into the house herself. With Grandma Nan's guidance, Tory rubbed Arnica suave on G.G's leg and gave her drops of Comfrey tincture soaked on some treats. Tory knew the remedies would speed the healing, decrease the swelling and help G.G's body heal itself. Grandma Nan smiled when Tory reached for the Star of Bethlehem Bach Remedy and starting putting drops of it on a treat. Tory knew it would help balance out the emotional trauma G.G. when through.

"You really have learned the remedies all right," Grandma Nan had said as she rubbed the Arnica suave on Tory's ankle, and dropped Comfrey tincture on Tory's tongue.

"We're both hurting and healing at the same time and in the same ways," Tory had said after putting dropping 4 drops of the Star of Bethlehem in her mouth. "We're both lucky to have found Meadowlands."

After a hot bath with Epson salts Tory had pulled on the warmest, softest, fluffiest pajamas she had and joined Grandma Nan, Clara and her father as they sat around the kitchen table. Over hot chocolate and Grandma Nan's homemade bread, still warm from the oven, covered in huge slabs of butter and globs of strawberry jam, they had discussed the events of the night.

Tory had explained about finding the letter in the pocket of the jacket and reading it. She told them how alone and lost she had felt, as though everything were her fault and how she had been drawn to G.G. Then, wanting to feel closer to her mother and have a chance to think, she described heading off through the woods on G.G. Clara and Grandma Nan listened in amazement as she described riding G.G. bareback through the woods, galloping when the thunder had scared them, and then G.G. slipping and hurting her leg.

They had all read Samantha's letter to Grandma Nan and had spent hours talking about Tory's mother and things she had done. They had all cried a little when they talked about what Samantha would have wanted for them all and how she would have wanted them to go on with their lives. It had been a night for putting away the past and starting new beginnings. Tory had gone to bed late but at peace for the first time in a very long time.

And it looked like this morning was definitely a new beginning. Tory could see the sun just beginning to appear in a cloudless sky. The air coming in from her open window smelled like fresh cut hay. As Tory looked around her room she saw the new riding outfit hanging on her closet door and felt butterflies of nervousness and excitement in her stomach realizing today was the day of the show and there was a ton of work to be done.

But the first order of business for Tory was to check on G.G. She wanted to make sure she was okay. They had formed a very special bond and Tory knew she was as important to G.G. as G.G. was to Tory. Tory slowly unfolded herself from the bed. Despite her mental urgency to get going, her body was slow, stiff and sore. She examined her ankle which her father had expertly wrapped last night and noted that the swelling had come down somewhat and it was now turning wonderful shades of purple and yellow. She wondered how she was going to ride with her body aching so much. Maybe she would add some Hypericum to both her and G.G's remedies today to help ease the pain.

As Tory limped downstairs in her barn clothes, wonderful breakfast smells coming from the kitchen made her stomach rumble. She was surprised and delighted to see it was her father at the stove cooking up one of his famous breakfasts, something he hadn't done for months, and had never produced at Grandma Nan's. They shared a special look between them.

"Nice look you got there," Tory said laughing at the ridiculousness of her father wearing Grandma Nan's apron.

He hugged her, spreading flour from the apron to her barn–stained sweatshirt. "Yup, quite a crew the two of us makes Pumpkin," he said. "How's the ankle"?

Not wanting to be kept from the show, Tory stood straight and winced as she put more weight on her ankle. "Lots better," she lied. "Must have been your bandaging."

"Yeah, something like that," her father said, and Tory knew her act hadn't fooled him any. "That's a pretty bad sprain you've got. It'll take a week or more for sure," he said but he turned back to focus on the pancakes and bacon.

Tory couldn't believe he wasn't going to tell her she couldn't go in the show. Grandma Nan must have had a talk with him she figured. A few months ago he would have had her lying on the couch with her leg on pillows taking pills for the pain. Maybe he was learning some of the remedies too.

"Grandma Nan and Clara are already out at the barn," he said. "Can you tell them breakfast is almost ready?"

"Sure," agreed Tory. "I'm just going to do a quick check on G.G. and I'll be in too."

"Don't be long," her father warned. "You know how I hate it if anyone is late for a Frank's Feast!"

Tory met Grandma Nan and Clara at the door of the barn. Empty halters in their hands, they explained they had already let the horses that weren't going to the show out so they could clean up some stalls before they left. Grandma Nan said she wanted to check on G.G. too so they both headed to the paddock while Clara took the halters back.

G.G. neighed when she saw Tory and started towards her, but then seemed surprised when her foot hurt and she limped slowly towards the gate. "Oh G.G.," said Tory pulling carrots from her pocket. "Are you okay girl?"

"I think she probably feels about the same as you do this morning," Grandma Nan said. "There isn't as much swelling there today."

"I saw a bright red aura around her leg last night," Tory said. "I can still see it a bit but it's faded a lot so I know she's healing. But I'm worried there's something wrong with her stomach, I see a pinkish kind of haze there." It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to be discussing how her visions now included being able to see areas of injury.

"Well, I trust your gift Tory, maybe we better have the vet come out and check on her today just to make sure there isn't something wrong," Grandma Nan said.

"But she'll hate the vet," said Tory in alarm although she knew it was the best thing for G.G. "Maybe I should stay here instead of going to the show," said Tory. "That way I could calm her down while the vet examines her."

"No need for that," said Grandma Nan. "Dr. Marshall's a real good friend. In fact he started his practice with your grandfather so he's good to give me special favors. We'll let G.G. rest while we're at the show and have Doc come out this evening when we're back. That way you can hold G.G's head and keep her calm through the examination."

"Okay," Tory agreed reluctantly. Although she hated to leave G.G. she really wanted to go to the show and Firefly was counting on her.

"Oh, we better get back to house," exclaimed Tory. "Frank's Feast is waiting and he hates it if we're late. Guess I better feed the butterflies flipping around in my stomach!"

The rest of the early morning was a blur of activity. All the girls starting arriving and everyone was nervous and on edge. Horses were bathed and braided, standing patiently as their riders coaxed their manes and tails into tidy braids and ribbons. Tack, already assembled two days earlier, was given one last once-over before it was time to load the horses. Tory made sure Firefly was looking her best before she hobbled back to her room to get dressed herself. The stiff tight fitting boots were a struggle over her swollen ankle but once on, the support they gave made her foot feel much better. She tried on the jacket just for luck before carefully placing it in a garment bag. Then she pulled her oversized old-pink-for-luck sweatshirt, over her head to keep her warm and protect her shirt and riding pants from dirt. On the way out the door her father whistled at her.

"You look wonderful Pumpkin, and you'll be great," he called as Tory made her way back to Firefly.

"See you at the show," they both echoed at the same time and then laughed.

Tory wrapped Firefly's legs for the trip and secured her cooler blanket before loading her into the trailer. Once all the horses were in, Grandma Nan climbed into the driver's seat of Ole'Pinky. Tory sat in the middle and Clara settled into the window seat as the Meadowland's trailer headed down the drive. A caravan of nervous parents transporting show girls followed close behind. Tory leaned back so she could see G.G. as they drove away. G.G. seemed content and happy standing in the shade of the trees, her head down as she greedily ate lush green grass. Tory could still see a haze around G.G's stomach and wondered if G.G. had picked up Tory's "show butterflies".

The show ground was a flurry of activity with horse trailers coming and going, people riding horses and leading horses, and horses tied up by their trailers. Everyone seemed to be rushing to do something. Grandma Nan, Clara and the girls had all been through this before and seemed to have a system worked out. While Clara and various parents went to register and get the show numbers, Grandma Nan and the girls unloaded the horses and got them comfortable in their temporary stalls.

Tory didn't have much time to be nervous. By the time she had her number secured to her jacket and Firefly tacked up and led to the collecting ring, it was almost time for her first class- equitation 8 to 12 year olds. The entrants would be judged on their riding abilities; how well they sat in the saddle and held the reins. The biggest challenge was making sure to post on the right diagonal, which Tory reminded herself, meant she should be sitting when Firefly's outside leg was back and up in the saddle when it was forward. Before she had time to worry about it Tory was in the saddle, walking around the ring with eight other entrants listening carefully for the judge's instructions on when to trot and when to walk and which lead to take. By the second time around the ring, Tory felt great. Firefly loved to compete and was feeling good. Tory's ankle wasn't even hurting much as she posted on the right diagonal. She caught Clara's eye as she made her way around and Clara subtly nodded, a signal to Tory that she was doing everything right. Standing close beside Clara was Tory's father. Seeing him wearing his sunglasses in the dimly lighted barn made Tory smile as she remembered Clara's story of his allergies. And she kept smiling all through her class. Then the entrants were instructed to line up while the judges inspected them and gave out the medals. Tory felt good. She had just completed her first class and loved every minute of it. She hadn't fallen off or embarrassed herself or Firefly or Clara. She was so deep in her thoughts she almost missed hearing "Fourth Place, number 71, Tory Lane from Meadowlands Farm".

Tory couldn't believe it. She had heeded all the warnings that no one wins ribbons the first show they go in, and yet there she was accepting a beautiful ribbon for fourth place in her equitation class! She rode out of the ring still hearing her father's excited shouts and clapping. He almost pulled her off Firefly in a huge hug.

"Look Dad, the ribbon's pink," Tory said! He smiled with pride and emotion and Tory thought it might be more than the allergies that was causing the redness in his eyes.

**Chapter 12**

It wasn't until late that afternoon that the last class was over and all the Meadowlands girls were ready to pack up and head home.

It had been a great show for the farm and for Tory. She had won the fourth place ribbon for equitation and a second place ribbon for her "hunter-under-saddle" class. That meant that firefly was being judged as well as Tory for her confirmation and appearance. Much of that ribbon really belonged to Firefly but it was also a testament to Tory's ability to braid and present her as well. They had all had a lot of fun in the costume class with lots of laughs and good natured ribbing. Tory had dressed Firefly as a firefly and she had been a fairy. Lots of people had told her they were surprised she hadn't won a ribbon for that class but it didn't matter. They had a great day.

After everyone's classes were over, the temporary stalls had to be mucked out, the horses un-tacked, legs rewrapped and coolers put on. Once all the horses were loaded, Tory once again crawled into the middle seat, more than ready to head home. She was exhausted, hungry and very, very sore.

Tory's Dad had already headed home with her ribbons, jacket and the costumes from the costume class, with promises to look after supper. He had hugged Tory and told her millions of times through the day how proud he was of her. She had even caught him hugging Clara and telling her how thankful he was for the lessons she had given Tory. Tory had been shocked to discover he had left both his radio and pager at home. It was the first time he had been without them since they had moved to the Island. When she asked him about it he had smiled and said, "You're my priority today, and I've decided to spend time saving my family instead of everyone else. Besides," he admitted, "the crew on can handle things and will probably be glad to have me out of their hair for a day."

Grandma Nan had snuck home a couple of times during the day to look after things and check on the horses that were still at the farm. It had been an emotional day for Grandma Nan too. She had told Tory how proud she was of her. Lots of people had told Grandma Nan how much Tory reminded them of Samantha and how glad they were to see her and her father on the Island again.

No one said much on the drive home. They were all exhausted and Tory was once again worrying about G.G. As they approached the lane they met a truck coming from the other direction. "Ah, right on time, there's Dr. Marshall," said Grandma Nan. "I'll just stop and make introductions and you can help him with G.G., Tory. Clara and I will look after Firefly for you."

"Thanks guys," said Tory, as she jumped out of the truck and suddenly felt excruciating pain in her own ankle. Tory wasn't looking forward to taking her boot off tonight.

Grandma Nan made the introductions and told Dr. Marshall that Tory would help him with G.G. "The Gentle Giant doesn't like people much, especially men, but she'll be okay as long as Tory is with her," Grandma Nan explained. "Tory here has a real healing touch," Grandma Nan said as she started up the truck again and continued up to the barn.

"I'm not surprised," said Dr. Marshall. "Given your genes you'd be a natural at animal care. Maybe I'll have an assistant in the practice soon. Well, let's go take a look at her, eh Tory," he said.

Tory liked Dr. Marshall immediately. Although he was a big man he seemed very calm and gentle and in no hurry.

G.G. neighed when she heard Tory call "Hey girl, come on over." She started limping towards Tory but then pinned back her ears and firmly planted her three non-hurting feet, when she saw Dr. Marshall.

"I'll go get her," said Tory. She grabbed the halter from the gate and limping herself, made her way towards G.G., pulling a horse treat left over from the show out of her pocket. G.G. snuggled her big face into Tory's chest and gently munched on the treat while Tory secured the halter.

Dr. Marshall smiled as both Tory and G.G. limped towards him. "Looks like you're both in about the same shape," he smiled. "Nan told me about your ride last night. Guess it was a wild one. Congratulations to you though. I've seen this horse before when the Miller's owned her. She's had a rough life. I'm surprised you brought her around so quickly. Nan must be right; you do have a healing touch. Your grandfather was an excellent vet you know. He could diagnosis and treat anything, but you grandmother really had the touch. They were quite a team." He shook his head a bit to take him back to the present and away from the distant memories and stretched out his hand so G.G. could sniff him. "Okay, Tory," he said. "Your job will just be to hold her and keep talking to her so she's nice and relaxed while I give her the once-over."

Rather than starting at her hurt foot, Tory was surprised to see Dr. Marshall run his hand along G.G's neck, back and flanks first. Dr. Marshall explained that he left the sore part till the last so G.G. would have some comfort with him before he did anything that might hurt her or make her nervous. He pulled a stethoscope out of his backpack and started listening to her chest, heart and around her belly. "Hmmm, interesting" he said as he listened and felt all around. G.G. moved her ears a bit but seemed relaxed under his touch.

By the time he got to G.G's sore foot, it seemed G.G. had almost forgotten he was even there. She only hesitated slightly in lifting her foot for him. He felt all around her leg and gently put her foot back down again.

"Okay girl, we're done here for now," he said. "You're a good girl and you found yourself the perfect home." He held out a carrot, which G.G. cautiously took from his hand.

"How's her foot? Is she going to be okay," Tory asked anxiously?

Dr. Marshall took his time gathering up his things, zippering his backpack and hoisting it onto his shoulder, being careful not to make noise or quick actions that would scare G.G. "She sure is okay," he smiled. "Her foot is just bruised on the heel. She's going to limp a bit for a week or so, pretty much like you. But she's going to need a lot of care and attention over the next few months. Tory, I guess you're going to be a Grandma. G.G. is pregnant! "

"Pregnant! Oh G.G.," Tory said, as she threw her arms around G.G. burying her face in her neck. "You're going to be a Mom." Then Tory remembered the foal G.G. had lost. Suddenly Tory was terrified for G.G.

"Do you think the foal will be okay? She lost one before," Tory said.

"See you already worry like a Grandma," said Dr. Marshall. "I think she'll be fine. I'd say she's about four months along so that's a good sign. Means you've got about seven more months to go before she's full term. It takes a little longer than humans. As long as you keep a close watch on her and give her lots of feed, keep her warm and loved, she'll be just fine. There's no reason to think otherwise. She probably lost the foal before because she was mistreated and hungry and lots of other reasons that don't matter here. I'll keep a close watch on her too. Besides, I like coming out here and seeing animals so loved. And I think I'll like working with you Tory."

Tory felt her exhaustion turn to pure excitement. A foal!. G.G was going to be a mother, and Tory a grandmother! She didn't know how she was going to be able to wait seven more months!

Dr. Marshall threw his backpack in his truck and climbed into the driver's seat. "Gotta go, Tory. I've got a sheep, a cow and a sick goat to look at before I head home for supper. I'll leave you to tell the great news to Nan. Tell her I'll see you guys again in a month unless something happens before then," and he waved as he headed down the lane.

Tory forgot all about the pain in her ankle as she half ran, half limped towards the house. Grandma Nan, Clara and her father were all in the kitchen. Her father was somehow miraculously unpacking fast food hamburgers, fries, onion rings, and milkshakes and setting them around the table. For a minute Tory almost forgot her news as she saw the ice-cream cake in the middle of the table. It was the shape and color of a pumpkin and, in black letter frosting, it said, "Congratulations Tory" on it.

"Ah," her father said. "The guest of honor has arrived for the feast!"

Tory was so excited and pleased she just blurted the news out "G.G's going to have a baby!"

That night the four of them toasted Tory, G.G., G.G.'s foal, and fast food. But most of all they just enjoyed being a family and being together. Tory snuck pieces of hamburger and cake into Saint Albert's dish and caught her father sneaking fries to Rusty under the table. Tory and her Dad winked at each other across the table.

Life on the Island felt like a good beginning!

###

About the author

Heather MacKenzie-Carey is a Bach Flower Registered Practitioner living on the South Shore of Nova Scotia with her husband, daughter, a number of four legged creatures and perhaps a spirit or two.

Tory's World reflects Heather's personal shift from working as a Paramedic to the more flexible, sometimes magical realms of vibrational energy healing including Bach Flowers and homeopathy.

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