As she ventured into the dark night, a gentle force led her in a direction opposite to the ranch. Though she had never treaded this path, a warm, safe energy encompassed her. Seeing a small house brought a smile. With a deep breath she knocked.

A woman in a wheel chair answered. "Hello. May I help you?"

"Do you know Gray Cloud?"

"He is my husband, but he is not here."

"Oh." Megan turned to leave, but the woman asked, "Are you Megan Harper from the Circle M?"

"Yes."

"I'm Running Doe, Gray Cloud's wife. Please come in."

Megan stepped inside with reservation, out of reverence to Gray Cloud. Being inside his house offered a glimpse into the private life of a man she admired. Photographs on the fireplace mantle spoke louder than any voice. Megan approached with caution. The photographs showed images of Clay and Colby as young boys, their faces showing zest and enthusiasm. Colby at his college graduation took center stage with one of Clay with his black stallion named Chance beside him. Though physically similar, Clay and Colby's eyes spoke different stories.

"My grandson's, different as winter and summer winds," Running Doe said. "Colby was studious and constantly striving to improve himself. Clay was happiest around horses and the outdoors. He needs the sun and wind to invigorate him. Without it, he withers like a plant with no water or sun."

"Why is there competition between them?"

"I'd like to say it's because they are brothers, but it goes beyond that." The older woman paused for a moment as she closed her eyes, as if envisioning the past. "My son spent most of his spare time with Colby. They would look at building designs for hours. When Clay asked for a few minutes of his dad's time to watch him ride or rope, there was no time. Clay did anything, good or bad, to get noticed, but his efforts proved futile.

"Were I not confined to this wheelchair, I would have gone anywhere to watch my grandson rope and ride. I read about his competitions in the newspaper and I longed to be there, but travel is difficult."

Megan sat on the hearth and took in all Running Doe had said. "Have you ever told Clay?"

"Yes, but he refuses to listen." She laughed. "He's stubborn and easily hurt."

"Which is why he hurts first," Megan said while staring at the pine floor.




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