Shannon’s hands began to shake as she read. The simple declarative style of the two notes struck her as unbearably sad. She felt her father’s helplessness and regret over the death of his enemy. She felt his grief and pain over the loss of his friend. The pile of mementos gave Shannon much to think about. Her father had had a very different life before she was born. A life of death and war he’d wanted no part of.
The rain was stopping. Shannon heard it slacken off and knew it would be easy to get up to the house now. Her mother was probably waiting for her for dinner. She knew she should leave, but she felt heavy inside, weighted down by the scraps of her father’s past.
With a sigh, she gathered the ribbons, medals, papers, and tokens from the past and put them back into the envelope. In her grandmother’s condo there was a wall of family photographs that Shannon had often seen. Many were quite old, taken long before Shannon had been born. Her father as a little boy with her grandfather. Her father in high school, dressed in a tuxedo for his prom. One in a cap and gown, one in his army uniform, one of him and her mother on their wedding day.
The photos with Shannon in them were on the opposite wall. In several, she was sitting on different ponies and horses as her father stood by, looking proud. Each picture had captured a dimension of the father she’d loved—still loved. Hadn’t he known that she would have loved him, no matter what?
Somehow all of the photographic images fit together to create one man. A man, she realized, she’d never truly known. More than anything, she wanted to find the father who’d always said he loved her. Only not enough to stay around and watch her grow up.
Chapter Sixteen
“Shannon, you look fabulous!” Heather bubbled when Shannon entered the grand ballroom of the luxury hotel. “I’m so glad you came.” Heather craned her neck toward the lobby beyond the gilded double doors of the vast ballroom. “Your mom didn’t come?”
“Grandma and I couldn’t persuade her. She said she wasn’t ready to face so many of her and Dad’s old friends at a party where everyone was supposed to be having a good time.”
“Makes sense. But you came at least.”
“It meant a lot to Grandma. She’s worked hard on this thing and she really wanted Mom and me to be here.” Shannon shrugged halfheartedly.
“How’d you get here?”
“Grandma sent a limo to the house for me. She’s trying to make sure I have a good time, but I feel funny coming by myself.”
“Come sit with my family,” Heather offered quickly. “Please? My parents have actually been getting along with each other lately,” Heather confided. “They’re having a good time, so far.”
“Grandma’s got a special table reserved. But she’ll probably be pretty busy all night and I’ll end up alone,” Shannon speculated aloud. “Okay—where are you sitting?”
They wove their way through a sea of linen-draped tables, all with floral and sandstone centerpieces depicting a scene from some fairy tale. The room looked beautiful, filled with brightly dressed people, and buzzing with muted conversations and soft music from an orchestra.
A pale peach and foam-green carpet stopped at the edge of an oak parquet dance floor, and overhead, an enormous crystal chandelier sparkled with soft, yellow lights. Vines, intertwined with silk dogwood flowers, draped graceful archways, where long, sumptuous banquet tables stood, lined with platters of food. In the center of one table rose a sparkling swan carved from ice and tinted pink.
They found Heather’s parents. “Hello, girls,” Heather’s father said, standing and pulling out chairs for them. “You both look like princesses.”
Heather rolled her eyes for Shannon’s benefit and mouthed “Corny,” but settled in the chair beside her father.
Mrs. Banks gave Shannon a kiss, then turned to her daughter. “The Nelsons brought their son Wade. I’m sure he’ll ask you to dance.”
Heather’s face blushed crimson and her freckles peeked darkly from beneath her makeup. “Not me.”
“Sit down and don’t run off. I’ve told his mother you’re here, and she’s going to send him over.”
Shannon felt like a third wheel. She didn’t belong with Heather’s family. Mr. Banks smiled at the girls. “The food’s great. We’re going over to the buffet, but when I get back I want a dance with my girl.” He glanced at Shannon and hastily added, “You too, all right?” Shannon mumbled that it would be fun, knowing that he was just being polite. If her father were here he would have danced with her.
“Shannon, do you feel okay?”
Heather was peering directly into Shannon’s face, looking concerned. “I’m fine. Why?”
“You just sort of blanked out all of a sudden. My dad’s not that bad a dancer—really.”
“I’m sure he’s great. I just spaced out for a second.”
Heather slouched in her chair. “Can you believe my mother, thinking Wade Nelson would even so much as look my way?”
Abruptly, Shannon stood. “I think I’ll go check in with Grandma and see how she’s doing. I’ll be right back.”
“I think I see her over there near the ice sculpture. But hurry, okay? I mean, you can’t leave me here all alone with my parents.”
“Sure, I’ll be back.” Shannon made her way toward her grandmother, standing in the midst of a group. She smiled, hugged Shannon, and made a round of introductions. “Have you seen the patio garden? It’s all fixed up like a moat with a castle drawbridge and a fire-breathing dragon.”
“Not yet,” Shannon told her.
“Please go look—I have a special surprise waiting for you.”
“What kind of surprise?”
“Go see for yourself.” Grandmother’s eyes danced mischievously.
“I promised Heather I’d be right back. I said I’d sit with her.”
“Heather can wait. Besides, she’s dancing right now and won’t miss you one bit.”
Shannon turned toward the dance floor and saw Heather in her father’s arms. The green of her friend’s dress and the red of her hair contrasted brightly against her father’s black tux. He was smiling at her, and she was telling him something, tossing her head and laughing.
Shannon felt her breath catch as a memory crowded out the ballroom, the chatter, and the music. She felt herself whisked back in time to one summer day when she was about nine; she was alone with her father in the tack room, a portable radio was playing, and he began to hum along with the tune. Suddenly, he looked up from his desk and asked, “Could I have this dance, Miss Campbell?”
Startled, Shannon stopped polishing her riding boots. “Daddy, I can’t dance!”
“Then it’s about time you learned.” He stood and held out his arms. “A beautiful girl needs to know how to dance when all her boyfriends come around.”
“Boys are gross,” Shannon insisted.
“Me too?”
She colored. “You’re different. You’re my daddy.”
He grinned and beckoned to her. At first, she hung back, self-conscious and shy. Her father took her lightly in his arms. He said, “Bet you won’t always feel that way about boys.”
“Bet I will,” Shannon insisted with a toss of her head. “Boys are dumb. Horses are neat.”
Her father laughed. “I’ll remind you of that when I catch a guy kissing you someday.”
Shannon felt herself turn crimson. “Daddy!”
“Come on—before this song ends,” he urged. “Stand on my feet. It’ll help you pick up the pattern.”
Gingerly, she stepped onto the toes of his boots. Her forehead came to the middle of his chest and her hands felt small and warm in his big, callused palms. Slowly, he guided her around the room. Her movements were jerky and awkward at first, but once Shannon caught on, she stepped down off his boots and followed his lead. As soon as they mastered moving about the tack room, he waltzed her out into the barn.
They had danced away the afternoon, while sunlight filtered through weathered wooden planks and horses watched curiously from t
heir stalls. Now, years later, seeing Heather and her father twirl in the sparkling ballroom, Shannon felt herself fill with a bittersweet longing. She yearned for that languid summer day, the music, the scent of sweet hay, and her father’s arms. Afraid she might break down, she purposefully turned her back from the crowded floor.
“You should run along, dear.” Grandmother’s voice broke through Shannon’s trance. “Your surprise is waiting.”
“I’m on my way.” She hurried to the hotel’s enclosed atrium where glass walls soared above a waterfall and rock garden. People strolled beside the giant formations, but she hardly noticed them. To one side, sitting on a low rock ledge and looking very self-conscious, was Zack Tyner.
“Zack! What are you doing here?”
Zack jumped up and faced Shannon. “Waiting for you. Your grandmother thought that it’d be nice if someone you knew came since your mother couldn’t make it.”
Shannon felt embarrassed and wished her grandmother hadn’t meddled. “Well, I’m sorry she made you come. You don’t have to stay.”
He caught her hand and pulled her to him. “Hey—I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Sure it was your grandmother’s idea, but I wanted to come.” He looked sincere, but she still felt flustered. “I’ve never been to anything this fancy,” he added. “Do I look all right?”
She fingered the tux’s silk lapel. “You look handsome.”
His ears turned beet-red and he tugged at the collar. “I’d rather be in jeans.”
“Me too,” she said, smiling. “How did you get here?”
“Your grandmother offered to send a limo, but I told her I’d get here by myself. The guys in valet parking acted like I was from outer space when I
drove up on my motorcycle. I stashed it in the parking garage across the street.”
Without warning, Shannon felt tears well up in her eyes. She looked down so that Zack couldn’t see them. “I hate being here, Zack,” she said suddenly. “Mom was smart to stay away. I’ve got to get out of this place. I can’t stay.”
“But your grandmother—”
“Grandma’s busy making this a success. She wanted me here and I came. Now I want to leave. I can make an excuse to her.”
“Where would we go?”
“Anywhere. I don’t care.”
They were quiet for a moment, then Zack said, “Maybe you’ll feel better if we go riding on the horses.”
His suggestion caught her off guard. “You mean right now?”
“There’s a full moon.” His look was challenging and full of promises that made her pulse race.
She stared into his dark eyes, imagining herself riding beside him in the moonlight, with the wind in her hair. Her heart thudded, but her voice sounded calm as she told him, “Let me tell Grandma I’m not feeling well and that you’re going to take me home. Meet me at the front door in five minutes.”
“Five minutes,” Zack echoed.
Before she lost her courage, Shannon hurried inside to find her grandmother.
Chapter Seventeen
“What did you tell your grandmother?” Zack asked as he led Shannon across the street toward the parking garage.
“Just that I was feeling a little sick to my stomach and that I wanted to go home.” She didn’t tell Zack that her grandmother had wanted to have one of the doctors attending the ball look her over. Grandmother had finally agreed to let her leave when Shannon had insisted that her problem was emotional and not physical. On her way out the door, Shannon had made an excuse to Heather, who looked to be having fun with Wade Nelson.
When Shannon reached Zack’s motorcycle, she strapped on the helmet he handed her, hiked up her dress, and straddled the machine. “Hang on,” he said. She slipped her arms around his waist and as the bike gathered speed, she tightened her grip. His body felt warm and solid against hers as they drove up the mountain. When they neared the stables, he cut the engine. The sudden stillness left a ringing in her ears.
Light from the moon was so bright that she didn’t have to turn on the barn lights. Black whinnied softly, nuzzled her neck, and nibbled playfully at her tousled hair. “Take Pippin,” she told Zack as she slipped a bit into Black’s mouth.
“Don’t you want to change your dress?” Zack asked.
She kicked off her heels and shimmied up on the horse’s sleek bare back. “I don’t care about the dress. Let’s go.”
“Which way?” Zack had shed his jacket, tie, shoes, and socks. His bare feet hung below Pippin’s round belly.
“Across that pasture.” She pointed toward a wide-open field bathed in moonlight. Once in the field, she didn’t wait for Zack, but dug her heels hard into Black’s side and felt him bolt forward. They crossed the field at a canter, the breeze ruffling her hair and blurring the sounds of Black’s hooves thudding the earth.
Shannon breathed deeply. She willed the wind to blow away the false glitter of the ball. Unexpectedly the phantom of her father again marched through her thoughts. She saw him as she remembered him best, smiling and happy. Not morose, dejected, and tormented as he’d been during his final weeks.
She saw his hands, strong and sure, playing along a horse’s withers and down its legs, searching for mars and blemishes. She saw his face, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners from too much exposure to wind and sun. She heard his voice, telling her stories about horses, and jokes that made her giggle even when she tried not to.
She began to think that she was the only person in the universe who had known him in his childlike, unguarded moments. How was it possible for the world to keep on turning without him? How could his friends have forgotten him so quickly? Her throat ached from holding in her tears. The earlier thrill of riding in the moonlight with Zack faded. She felt alone. Cut off forever from her daddy.
At the far end of the field, Shannon saw a split-rail fence that marked the edge of their property on the side of the mountain. She urged her horse toward it.
“Shannon!” she heard Zack call from behind her. She didn’t stop, but hurtled headlong for the barrier.
Blackwatch took the fence in a perfect leap, his forelegs lifted high, his hindquarters well above the wooden rail. When he landed on the other side, Shannon reigned him in and dismounted.
“Hey, wait for me,” Zack called from the other side of the fence. Shannon watched him dismount, loop Pippin’s reins over the railing, and climb through the rails.
“Did you see Black take that jump?” she asked. “It was perfect. That’s the way it should have been at the Knoxville meet.”
“I saw it all right. For a minute, it looked like you were going to grow wings. Where the heck are we anyway?” Zack came alongside of her. “Whoa!
Looks like the edge of the world.” He leaned out and peered downward. He whistled, awestruck, then told her, “Shannon, it’s got to be a thousand feet straight down.”
They stood on a smooth granite ledge, a giant rock that jutted off the top of the mountain. A half-mile below lay the city of Chattanooga, sparkling with lights, sprinkled like diamonds over black velvet. Zack stepped closer to her. “You could have gone right off the edge,” he said, sounding alarmed.
“I knew how much distance I had,” she insisted.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to gaze out over the valley below. “I’ve never seen this view from the mountain before.”
“The Tennessee River’s that way,” she told him, pointing. “In the sunlight, it looks like a silver ribbon. Did you know that on a clear day you can see all the way to the Smokey Mountains?”
“We’ll have to come back in the daylight so you can show me.”
“My dad and I used to come up here,” Shannon said wistfully. “We’d sit and look out over the valley and talk for hours. Mom would pack us a picnic lunch. I always wanted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Dad loved Oreos. He would separate the cookies and give me the side with the frosting.”
Zack brushed wisps of her windblown hair away from her face. “I
f I had an Oreo, I’d give you the frosting side too.”
“My father used to tell me about a winged horse who could fly all the way to the moon. He first told me the story while we were standing right here.”
“So that’s where you and Black were going—to the moon?”
“I thought about it.” She sighed. “When I was little, I used to wish I was a bird, then I could fly all by myself. Daddy told me that riding a horse was as close as a person could get to being an animal. ‘A horse and his rider become one—a new creature,’ he always said. One time he and I spent a whole afternoon trying to figure out a name for such a beast.”
“Maybe that’s why you like jumping your horse so much—it feels like flying.”
“Maybe.” Shannon turned her face skyward and gazed longingly at the round, bright, shimmering moon. She thought back to the day when she and Zack had ridden together after the summer rain. How simple and wonderful her life had seemed that day! “Nothing worked out this summer the way I thought it would, Zack. Everything went wrong.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I miss my father so much. I can’t begin to tell you what it feels like knowing I’ll never see him again.”
“What about all the plans you told me about? Don’t you still want those things?”
“What plans?”
“College, riding on the equestrian team, and maybe qualifying for the Olympics.”
Hearing him list her dreams filled her with sorrow. How long had it been since she’d thought about such things? It seemed like forever. She wasn’t convinced she wanted them anymore. She wasn’t sure she could attain them by herself. She kicked at a loose pebble and heard it drop over the side. “Tonight, at the ball, when I looked around and saw people together, laughing and having fun, it made me feel even more alone than ever. Now there’s just me and Mom. Heather is always complaining about her family, but there she was tonight with two parents. When I saw her dancing with her father, I got sick with envy.”