The Purgatorium

Chapter Nine

Later that afternoon, a group of them met at the same sunny clearing near the jeeps, where they had met for the sunset cruise. Daphne and Emma climbed behind Roger and Cam. Daphne was relieved to learn Cam had been telling the truth about Bridget not coming, even though she had worn her yellow backless halter top and most flattering navy shorts just in case.

She hated herself for wanting Cam's attention, but there it was.

Another jeep—with the round-cheeked, older woman named Mary Ellen sitting beside Phillip in the front seat and with Dave and Vince in the back—followed Roger up the road and out of the canyon. They drove for five or ten minutes along the canyon ridge until they came to the Nature Conservancy headquarters. Cam told her that the oldest of the buildings, the chapel, constructed during the ranching period, had been converted into stables. Kelly, the guide, whom Daphne had briefly met at dinner her first night on the island, greeted them and gave them instructions before taking them into the pen and helping them to mount, one by one.

Daphne waited her turn next to Cam and Emma on the dirt with the sharp smell of animal and leather and hay. A gentle breeze made the smells bearable.

Kelly looked to be in her late thirties, and was a red head with green eyes. She wore jeans and a white tank with an unbuttoned denim shirt. When Kelly explained she had just returned to work on the island after ten months of maternity leave, they all congratulated her on her baby.

Daphne rode a white mare named Pearl. Kelly led them on a gray gelding called Chief from the pen and up the canyon ridge toward the deep valley.

Kelly warned everyone not to let the horses feed on the tall grass along the hills. The riders should, instead, show them who was boss by forcing them on the trail. There wasn't a literal trail. She meant to keep the horses in line. But the horses didn't stay in line. They kept vying for the place behind Chief. Pearl bit the butt of the horse in front of her, and it kicked back, startling Phillip, its rider. Kelly apparently hadn't seen, and Phillip said nothing.

As they ascended the hill to the canyon ridge, Daphne felt a little nervous with the big animal moving beneath her. She hadn't ridden since she was nine, when her parents had taken her, Kara, and Joey on a family trip to Durango. Her mother wouldn't join them on the trail ride, saying she didn't like horses, but Daphne could tell even then that her mother was frightened of them. This had added to Daphne's own fear. She was frightened then, riding up and down the steep San Juan Mountains and through the national forest. And since Joey's horse had stayed near hers, he had been the one to keep her brave and cheerful.

Today, Cam was along to support her, but her fear was made worse by the anxiety she felt over anticipating the next exercise. She feared she was being set up for another terrifying experience. She wondered why she had agreed to come, if she were so uncertain; but she knew why: she was curious to see what would happen. Plus, it was so unlike her regular, dreary, gloomy life. And, most of all, her parents had wanted her to experience this.

From the top of the ridge, the view was spectacular, reminding Daphne of how she pictured the Shire in The Hobbit. Green grass grew down in the valley and along endless hills to either side—again making her think of a fairway—all the way down to the stream, which turned and curled like fancy, cursive penmanship. Mounds of shrubs in darker shades of green contrasted with the emerald color of the grass, and then whole bushes of yellow poppies and purple mountain glory added to the serenity of the view. The hills rolled low in areas, like hobbit barrows, and then became more jagged and rocky and taller further away, toward the mountains and their purple peaks on either side.

Kelly turned her body in the saddle so she was facing the group behind her. "We're about to head down into Central Valley. This valley runs along a fault line dividing the northern half of the island from the southern. It also divides the two mountains, Mount Diablo to the north and Sierra Blanca to the south. A stream runs all the way through Central Valley from Prisoners Harbor, where you docked, to the west end at Black Point. You'll find a variety of wildlife throughout the valley, including the island fox, the island scrub jay, the Pacific tree frog, the bald eagle, the island deer mouse, and several plant species, such as morning glory, monkey flower, and buckwheat. Some plant species here are found nowhere else in the world."