Home of the Gray Dog - Segment 07

Chapter 31

"I thought that I would never forget Mommy, but I can’t even remember what she looks like.” This sad statement came from the tiny girl looking up at Edith, her big brown eyes filling with tears.

         “It’s okay, sweetheart,” Edith said, taking the child into her arms. “We found some photographs of her and your daddy in the newspaper.” She didn’t tell four-year-old Amy about the article that went with the photographs. The detailed account left nothing to the imagination of the murder and suicide of Amy’s parents.

         Amy Erickson had arrived at Walker’s orphanage, still in a state of shock days after finding her mother face down in the half-filled bathtub. According to the social worker who sent the child, it was a blessing that Amy had not seen the body of her father, Russell Erickson. After drowning his wife, he went out to their garage, put a loaded .357 to his head, and pulled the trigger. The pool of spreading blood had indelibly stained the cement floor by the time the coroner arrived hours later.

         Now, two weeks after next-door neighbors found her hiding in her bedroom closet, Amy rarely spoke to anyone. She wandered from room to room, at least one of her long brown pigtails freed from its ribbon, a confused and lost expression on her little face.

         “Doesn’t Daddy love me any more?” she asked Edith, leaning her head against the older woman’s shoulder. “He knows where I am, doesn’t he?” Edith just held her tightly, unable to think of the words to answer the child. This is how Walker found them during one of his frequent visits to the orphanage.

         The previous week, he had spent a lengthy time with Robyn De Sousa, the recruiter who had brought Amy from Sacramento to the new orphanage. Seeing he frightened the child, Walker spoke only to Robyn to get the little girl’s sketchy history. His watchful eyes, though, didn’t miss how Amy tried to hide behind Robyn whenever he forgot and came close to them. Walker made the decision to wait for a few days to let the child settle in before approaching her again.

         Today, he hoped to find out what frightened her. “Amy, do you remember me?” At the sound of his deep baritone voice, Amy looked up at the tall man and nodded. Reverting to a habit she had outgrown two years ago, she stuck her thumb into her mouth and continued staring silently at Walker. She didn’t know why, but the sight of a man, even this one with the kind face, scared her.

         When the policemen found her hiding in her bedroom, her screams of terror at seeing them only quieted when a female officer entered the room. The people who came afterwards to take her away from the horrific scenes of violence quickly learned that only women should go near her. Amy fell once, bruising her arm badly while backing away from a well-meaning male doctor. He had been intent on examining her for signs of injury, but turned over this task to his female colleague at seeing the child’s overwhelming fright.

         The police didn’t know Amy had seen her mother murdered and, therefore, never recorded this critical information in her file. Because of this, Walker didn’t understand Amy’s reaction to him. He vowed, however, to take it slow and let her tell him what was wrong when she was ready. For now, he knew it was best to leave the child in the care of his birth mother. “It’ll be okay, Amy,” Walker said quietly, kneeling in front of the silent little girl. “We can get to know each other later, okay?” When she still didn’t speak but continued to stare at him with large frightened eyes, he slowly stood to face his mother.

         “Edith, let me know if you need help with Amy or any of the other children.” He smiled, and then said, “There is a line of people over at the mansion wanting to come and work here.” Ever since he had notified his elderly guests of his intention to build and run an orphanage, he and his assistant, Samantha, had enough volunteers to staff half a dozen buildings.

* * *

         That night, Beatrice Walsh was sitting in the lounge near Amy’s bedroom. She was quietly talking with Isabella, a night shift staff member. Bea was a 79-year-old spinster, the favorite babysitter for Walker’s two wards, Sue Beth and Joshua. When not with them, Bea enjoyed being at the orphanage in the evening. She had made friends with Isabella and often spent hours sharing stories with her.

         Screams coming from Amy’s bedroom startled both women, and they immediately hurried to find out what was wrong. Upon entering the room and turning on the light, Bea saw the child thrashing around in her bed, obviously in the middle of a nightmare. Her piercing screams seemed to fill the room, and the women could hear running footsteps out in the hallway as more people came to investigate.

         “Daddy, Daddy, stop. Please stop. You’re hurting her.” Amy’s screams diminished to these whimpered cries, heartbreaking to those who knew the story of her parents’ deaths. Still caught up in her nightmare, Amy’s screams returned stronger and louder in intensity. While the adults stood helplessly around her, she finally fell into an exhausted and dreamless sleep.

         “She saw it,” whispered Isabella to Bea, horror in her voice. “She must have seen her father drowning her mother, and her young mind couldn’t handle it. No wonder she’s afraid of men.”

         “Now that we know what’s wrong, Walker will be able to find someone to help her through this.” This comment from Bea showed her utmost confidence in her benefactor’s ability to fix any problem. Until then, she decided to stay near the traumatized little girl, ready to help in any way she could. Her maternal feelings, only recently discovered, had never been stronger than with this small orphaned victim of family violence.

Chapter 32

The next morning, Walker remembered the items he had found recently in the mansion’s hidden room. He headed downstairs from his apartment toward the room on the third floor.

         On the way there, he heard the sound of young masculine voices. Coming towards him were Joshua and Mike, laughing at some private joke. “Hey, guys,” Walker called out, “want to help me carry some stuff over to the playroom at Hannah’s?” The two boys quickly joined him, excited at being able to be with the adult they hero worshipped.

         “What stuff, Mr. Walker?” asked Mike, no longer needing anyone’s guidance to get around. In fact, most people living at the mansion often forgot that he was blind. He followed Joshua and Walker down the corridor, skipping in his delight at this new adventure.

         Walker answered his question when they rounded the corner and reached the locked room. “Do you remember those toys we found in that old trunk some time back?” Not waiting for Mike’s reply, Walker unlocked the door, and the three of them entered the large room. “Well, I figured it about time we brought them over for the others to play with. Good idea, kids?”

         “Oh, yes,” said Joshua before Mike could answer. “I know Douglas would love that wooden stereoscope we found with all those old photographs. He suddenly had an idea. “Mr. Walker, do you think Mr. White could make some new pictures for it?” The previous year, the police had discovered Franklin White locked in a small shed, nearly starved to death. The world-famous photographer now was one of the elderly guests living at the mansion. The picture book he had created and given as gifts at Christmas had been a big hit. It contained photographs of the guests and mansion, and Joshua often enjoyed looking through his own copy.

         Walker looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, we can ask him. I bet he can.” He was proud of Joshua for thinking of the idea. “Why don’t we show him some of the old stereoscopic photographs later today?” He next picked up a doll from the trunk and placed it in Mike’s hands. “Do you think Itzam would like this, Mike?”

         Mike’s fingers caressed the china face of the doll. “She’s smiling, isn’t she?” he asked. “What color is her hair?” He felt the silky texture running through his fingers.

         Joshua answered before Walker could. “The doll has brown hair, just like Itzam has, and brown eyes, and, yes, she’s smiling. How did you know?” He grinned as soon as those words left his mouth. “Of course you knew. You felt it, didn’t you?”

         Mike continued touching the doll. “I bet the dress is blue. Am I right?”

         Walker put a finger to his mouth to let Joshua know to be still. He then said, “You’re right again. It’s a pretty shade of dark blue,” looking at the pale green dress, “but we might have to have another made since this one’s pretty worn out.” He took the doll from Mike to say, “Maybe Itzam would like a pink dress for the doll or maybe green. Which do you think?” Before Mike could answer, Walker finished with, “No, two dresses would be best, one pink and one green. Now, boys, let’s see what else we can find in the trunk.”

         For the next couple hours, the three of them took 19th century toys and games from the trunk and placed them in baskets for transport to Hannah’s Home. Along with the various dolls went clay and glass marbles, a whirli-gig made from hammered lead musket balls, two colorful red peg tops with strings still attached, and many board games with most of their pieces intact.

         One item not found in the trunk, but seen tucked away in the corner of the room, had Joshua dragging it across the room to where Walker and Mike were digging through the trunk. “Look what I found,” he shouted in excitement. “It’s a rocking horse.” The large swing horse was in perfect condition. It was on a safety stand with chrome plated rockers, only needing a small child to ride it. The magnificent creature was solid mahogany and expertly hand carved. The leather saddle had brass hardware, including the stirrups.

         With Joshua’s help and a couple of the elderly men they met along the way, Walker managed to bring the horse out of the room, through the mansion, and over to Hannah’s Home. Mike followed closely behind the group carrying the heavy basket filled with the collection of toys. In this way, the older toys found their way into the playroom with the rocking horse placed proudly in the middle of the room.

         The cheerful green, blue, and white painted room with rainbow and cloud stencils on the walls, shelves filled with all types of modern games and toys, and now a beautiful wooden horse made even the older men feel like they were children again.

Chapter 33

“Design me a barn.” When Walker casually spoke these words at breakfast, Felix stopped eating and stared in amazement at his friend. Walker had been concentrating on cutting a slice of ham and only glanced up when the sudden silence at the table finally reached him.

         “What?” Walker asked, looking in confusion at Felix and Samantha, who had joined him for an early meal.

         Felix was the first to answer, a big grin now on his face. “Design you a barn, just like that. What brought that on?”

         “I know,” said Samantha before Walker could say a word. “It was Amy and that wooden horse of yours, wasn’t it?” At Walker’s nod, she continued. “Yesterday when Walker took me over to the playroom to show me the old toys he’d found, a few children were already there. One was Amy on top of that old wooden horse.”

         Felix thought for a minute. “She’s that little girl who saw her mother murdered, isn’t she?”

         Walker pushed his plate away, his food no longer interesting him. “Yes, she had a terrible nightmare a few nights ago and hasn’t spoken another word to any of us since.” He picked up his fork and started absentmindedly digging lines on the tablecloth with the tines. His memory went back to the sight he had witnessed the previous day. “You should have seen her, this tiny little girl leaning forward and whispering into the leather ear of the rocking horse.” He stopped when Samantha put her hand over his, halting his motions with the fork.

         When he noticed the holes the fork had made in the linen cloth, Walker let go of the utensil and smiled sheepishly at Samantha. “Sorry, Sam, you know I think better with something in my hand.” He turned his attention back to Felix who was waiting quietly for him to continue, not noticing that Samantha still held his hand. “Anyway, Felix, I figured if she felt comfortable talking with the wooden horse, maybe a therapy horse would be the way to help her over the traumatic shock she’s had.”

         “And,” said Felix, finally understanding, “a horse needs a barn. Are you planning on any other animals, or do I just need to design a stall or two?”

         “No,” said Walker, starting to speak quickly in a rush to get his ideas out. “I was thinking some goats and sheep and maybe a couple cows and some chickens.” In his excitement, he stood up and started pacing around the table. Samantha’s hand had slipped from his without Walker ever realizing she had been holding his hand. Her sigh of regret went unnoticed by him, but Felix heard in it her frustration at Walker’s lack of awareness of her feelings.

         “Why those animals?” Felix asked, still at a loss for all this livestock.

         Instead of answering that question, Walker asked him one. “Have you met Rose and Dan Cochran yet?” Felix wrinkled his forehead in thought, trying to remember if he had. Before he could answer, Walker said, “Well, they owned a farm before their daughter was born, a small sheep farm. Dan once mentioned he missed his Delaine-Merino sheep, particularly at sheering time. I’d love to see this done, so count on about half a dozen sheep in the barn, okay?”

         “Sure thing,” Pulling a pad and pencil out from his shirt pocket, Felix started making notes. He had difficulty keeping up with Walker as the other man thought of more and more ideas for the barn. “Whoa, man,” Felix practically yelled to stop Walker, “let me get with Karla and see how soon she and her workers can build this.”

         Samantha started laughing since, unlike Felix, she was familiar with Walker when he started thinking up new projects. “May I join you then, Felix? I’d love to visit with Karla again and have a couple ideas myself for the barn.” Karla and Samantha had met often during the construction of Hannah’s Home and become good friends. Each recognized in the other the workaholic traits of a busy woman.

* * *

         Later that afternoon, Felix and Samantha drove off to meet with Karla Morningstar in the nearby town of Westbrook. They found her behind a tall stack of blueprints in her crowded office, a chewed pencil behind one ear and reading glasses slipping down her shapely nose. Her short blonde hair stuck out every which way from constantly running her fingers through it, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to break.

         Karla raised her tired eyes from the blueprints when the bell on the door rang, announcing the entrance of visitors. The broad smile on her face welcomed Felix and Samantha, and she immediately stood to greet them. “It’s good to see you two. Have a seat.”

         Samantha glanced around the crowded office, noting two metal industrial style chairs piled high with manuals and assorted small tools. “I think I’ll stand, Karla, or maybe we can convince you to come outside for a breath of fresh air.” She sniffed delicately. “It does smell a bit…” She stopped, trying not to offend. The office did smell rancid from the combined aroma of a spoiled banana and milk days past its expiration date, both forgotten by the busy woman. This intermingled with an overpowering smell of oil from the tools on the chairs.

         Karla followed the other two outside, squinting in the bright sunshine after hours in her dim office. “What brings you two into town?” she asked. “No, don’t tell me. Walker wants something else built. What’s it this time?” She grinned and waited.

         Reading from his copious notes taken at breakfast, Felix outlined what Walker wanted. The three of them spent the next few hours outside discussing the barn’s design with ideas coming fast and furious. Some of Karla’s employees walking by grinned at the sight of their lady boss pounding on Felix’s arm in excitement at one point.

         About five in the afternoon, Felix stretched to get the kinks out of his body from squatting on the ground taking copious notes. He had brought out the two metal chairs from the office for the women to use, but even they felt exhausted from hours of sitting in the hot June weather. Sitting in the shade of Karla’s small office building hadn’t kept the sun’s heat from them.

         Karla stood and walked to the office doorway when Felix and Samantha prepared to leave. “Tell Walker I can start any time you finalize the design.”

         Felix held out his hand to help Samantha up from her chair. “Karla, why don’t you come out to the place at your convenience, and we can discuss with Walker where exactly to build his barn, okay?” With this, he and Samantha said good bye and returned to the mansion, happy at the progress made that afternoon.

         Unknown to them, Walker had jumped the gun by visiting a local horse farm. He left behind a beautiful and gentle Paso Fino named Savannah waiting to live at her new home.

Chapter 34

“My God, man, what happened to you?” This surprised comment was from Jack when he spotted Walker hobbling across the mansion’s large entrance room. Walker seemed at any moment ready to lose his balance and fall. His left leg from ankle to knee was in a plaster cast, and he was clutching crutches so hard his knuckles had turned white.

         “Rufus happened to me. And Valentine happened to me,” muttered Walker, aiming towards one of the room’s sofas. He plopped down with a sigh of relief and leaned the crutches next to him. Jack joined him by pulling up a nearby chair, ready to hear his friend’s explanation. He also had some news to tell his boss, but that could wait.

         “Okay, how did those sweet little animals cripple you?” Jack grinned at Walker’s disgruntled look. It was rare that Walker was anything but cheerful, a fact that drove Samantha crazy in the morning. She practically snarled at people before her wake-up cups of coffee while Walker greeted the day with a smile for everyone. Jack looked innocently at Walker when he asked, “What did you do to them?”

         “What did I do to them?” Walker reached for the crutches, quickly thought better of it, and leaned back on the sofa to repeat, “What did I do to them? Hey, I was walking down the stairs, minding my own business, when first a cat and then a dog ran between my legs.” Seeing the grin had returned to Jack’s face. Walker glared at him. “It’s not funny. I lost my balance and bounced the rest of the way down the stairs.” He stopped for a second. “Well, maybe not bounced, but it felt that way.” Walker actually sounded sorry for himself when he continued. “It hurt, and those two just sat at the bottom of the stairs with amused looks on their faces.”

         “Come on, Walker,” said Jack, now laughing. “You know animals have no sense of humor.”

         “You don’t think so, huh? And who found a dead mouse’s head on the rug beside his bed the other morning?” Rufus had learned how to open unlocked doors, and an unsuspecting Jack had stepped out of bed onto the gift left by the Maine Coon cat. Walker, now in a better mood, went on. “Rufus probably was sitting outside your room laughing at you.” He finally noticed a pink phone message slip in Jack’s hand. “Were you looking for me?”

* * *

         With this change of subject, Jack stopped laughing and handed the slip to Walker. “Robyn just called and has a child in desperate need and wants you to phone her at this number.”

         He took out his cell phone and handed it to Walker. Within a few minutes, Walker had talked with his senior recruiter and learned the full story. He didn’t hesitate when she finished, but told her to bring the child to the safety of Hannah’s Home immediately. Walker then sat back and silently thought about what Robyn had just told him, while Jack waited just as silently across from him. The plight of the small child saddened and shocked the two men.

         Robyn De Sousa, one of Walker’s recruiters, had found the boy digging into trash cans, hunting for any scrap food thrown out. Dirt covered his emaciated young body, and his long filthy hair hung down over his face. At first glance, she couldn’t tell what race he belonged to, not that it mattered to her. Even from the distance of a few feet, she could smell the unpleasant odor coming from his unwashed body.

         After months of finding starving and abused children living alone out on the dangerous streets, Robyn had come to one indisputable conclusion. It was that the color of hunger and misery was brown, the color of dirt, of caked-on excrement, of bare feet covered in mud.

         “Child, I’m here to help you.” Her softly spoken words caused him to stop frozen in place. Afraid he’d run off before she reached him, Robyn didn’t move from the sidewalk in front on the alley, waiting to see what the boy would do next.

         ”Go away, leave me alone, I ain’t bothering nobody.” The boy, probably no older than ten years of age, suddenly bent down and picked up a broken umbrella leaning against one of the trash cans. He waved it in front of him, ready to strike if she came any closer.

         Robyn reached into her purse and brought out her lunch, a large Red Delicious apple. “It’s yours if you want it, but you have to come here and get it.” Slowly, he came towards her, still holding the umbrella for protection. When he was only inches away, he reached out to grab the apple, and then ran off down the alley to disappear around a corner.

         Each day after that, Robyn would return to the alley, hoping to find the child again. Each day, he’d appear and ungraciously take the food she offered him before running off. It took a few weeks, but eventually she managed to win his trust enough for him to stay and listen to her.

         “My name is Robyn,” she said, “and I’m a recruiter for Walker. Would you tell me your name?”

         The boy was standing near Robyn but ready to bolt if she made a threatening move. He glared at her and muttered, “I’m Damn You, or at least that’s all my pop ever called me.” He looked down at the ground when he continued, “He died, and the guy who owned the place where we lived kicked me out. Who the hell is Walker?”

         Robyn pulled up an empty wooden box and sat down before answering his question. “Walker is a nice man who sent some of us out to find children who need his help.”

         “Yeah,” the child sneered, “and what does he want from us?” Sadly, he already knew what adults wanted from young boys. When money ran low, his father had rented him out, punishing him severely when he complained.

         “No, you’re wrong. Walker is a decent man and wants nothing from you.” Robyn smiled at the boy then. “Do you mind if I call you something besides Damn You? I rather like the name Ricky.”

         He shrugged. “Call me whatever you want.” He took a step closer to Robyn, hoping she had more food for him. He’d already eaten the two sandwiches she brought that day, but he was still hungry. It seemed no amount of food would make up for the months of near starvation since he found himself alone and on the streets. “What’s in it for me if I agree to go with you?”

         For days, Robyn had tried to convince Ricky to accompany her to the safety of Walker’s orphanage. This question was the first sign that he was even considering it. “It would mean you would have all the food you wanted and a clean bed to sleep on.”

         This last appealed to the boy more than Robyn realized. Since his father’s death, Ricky slept in deserted rat-infested buildings to get out of the cold. “And no one will bother me?” He still did not believe this unknown man’s altruism in wanting to help unwanted children. However, anything would have to be better than starving or becoming the unwilling prey of human predators.

         Robyn stood up and slowly reached out her hand to the boy. “I promise. Now, will you come with me?” She grinned so he wouldn’t take offense when she next said, “I think, though, we’d better clean you up first. How does a bath and some new clothes sound?”

         The next day, early as the sun was rising over the city, Robyn and Ricky were on their way to Hannah Edgeworth’s Home for Found Children. Eric, the mansion’s limousine driver, looked now and then in the rearview mirror as he drove. For years, he had brought adults to Walker’s home for elderly guests, Maison du Renard Rouge. Sad as some of their lives had been, seeing children like Ricky made Eric glad he worked for someone like Walker.

         After a couple hours’ drive, Eric turned the vehicle into the long driveway leading up to the mansion and drove around it to the orphanage. In the open doorway of the large modern building, he saw Edith Cartwright waiting for them. Next to her stood her son, standing upright with the aid of his crutches. The late July sun shone down on them, but they seemed unaware of the heat.

         “Ricky,” Eric heard Robyn say after he stopped the limousine, “this will be your home now, and that’s Miss Cartwright, Walker’s mother. She’s in charge of making sure you are happy and healthy. Standing beside her is Walker, the man I told you about earlier. Are you ready to meet them and go inside?”

         Taking a deep breath, Ricky nodded. There was no way on earth he was going to let Robyn and Eric know how scared he was.

Chapter 35

With Walker’s 51st birthday on August 26 only a few weeks away, everyone at the mansion was busy preparing for the special day. Chef Geoffrey was planning an evening feast and seemed to enjoy running his staff ragged with his constant demands. No one, however, complained because they also wanted their employer’s birthday dinner to be memorable.

         Even though Walker had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want any presents, everyone paid no attention to this. They continued trying to come up with gifts for the man who had generously shared everything he had and expected nothing in return. Even caught up in the excitement were the eight children currently at Hannah’s Home plus Joshua, Sue Beth, and Delia’s two youngsters.

         One late afternoon, Jack found Walker standing in the middle of the mansion’s large entrance room, a puzzled look on his face. As he watched, Jack saw people going by Walker, all avoiding him. When the fifth person acted in the same way, Walker turned, saw Jack, and slowly came toward him.

         “Jack, have I offended everyone in some way?” he asked, watching yet another person pass by without acknowledging his presence. The sadness in Walker’s voice upset Jack since he knew people were only trying to keep a secret from Walker. Most were afraid they would reveal the surprise if they spoke for any length of time with him. Even Jack had almost blurted it out that morning at breakfast.

         “Don’t give it a second thought,” he now said, trying desperately to think of something to explain everyone treating Walker in this way. “I think people are feeling the summer doldrums and need something new to occupy them. You have any ideas?” He hoped changing the subject this way would get Walker’s mind off others ignoring him.

         It worked since Walker was always ready for a new challenge. “How’s the barn coming along?” Walker had quickly approved Felix’s design. Karla’s employees worked seven days a week to construct new barn located within easy walking distance of both the orphanage and the mansion. However, it was far enough away so that the usual smells found in a barn wouldn’t offend people living in either large building.

         “Why don’t we go out and see?” suggested Jack, wanting to get Walker away from the mansion for as long a time as possible. The more Walker was around his guests and staff, the higher the chance that someone would inadvertently spoil the secret by telling him. Thankfully, Walker agreed with Jack’s suggestion, and they soon started toward the nearly completed barn. Jack stayed close to his friend since Walker only recently had the cast removed from his leg. One of the elderly men had carved a fancy cane for Walker, and Jack saw him leaning heavily on it, already tired from walking only a short distance. He was glad when the barn finally came into sight.

         “Hey, Mr. Walker,” came a yell from in front of them. They saw two of the original foster children seated on the ground watching the workers up on the barn’s roof. Brennan Gallagher, a boisterous, 12-year-old redhead with a face covered in freckles, was the one who had called out. His buddy, two years younger, was the opposite of Brennan. Quiet, satisfied to be his friend’s silent partner, Eddie Riordan stood up when the adults reached the boys.

         “Mr. Walker,” Eddie said, speaking so softly Walker had to lean forward to hear him. “They said it was okay for us to watch as long as we stayed out of their way.” The boy’s scared expression reminded Walker of what he’d read about him. The four children from the town’s orphanage came with reams of paperwork from the years they’d spent in that dilapidated building. Authorities had removed Eddie from his home when neighbors reported his abusive father beating him on an almost daily basis. He was only nine at the time and had spent the next year learning not to automatically cover his head whenever any man came close to him. In the brief time he’d lived at Hannah’s Home, Eddie had slowly come to trust Jack, but Walker’s larger size still intimidated him.

         “That’s fine, Eddie,” he heard Walker say in a gentle voice. “Why don’t you and Brennan join us? We’re going to explore inside the barn, and we’d enjoy your company.” Walker started once again toward the barn, not waiting to see if the two boys followed. He did share a quick glance with Jack, who nodded his head to let Walker know the boys had fallen in line right behind them.

         The workers on the roof looked down at the small parade coming toward them. In the lead, leaning even more heavily on his cane, was the owner of this fantastic estate. Two youngsters were almost on his heels, one boy practically bouncing in his excitement at being in the company of grown men. A second one was looking warily up at Walker, keeping his distance since he still didn’t fully trust Walker not to hurt him in some way. Bringing up the tail end was Jack, familiar to the workers from his many visits to the construction site.

         On entering the first smaller section of the L-shaped barn, Walker felt his weariness falling away. In front of him, he saw an area containing stalls for three horses as well as a large tack room. All it needed was Savannah and a couple more therapy horses to make it complete. Once again, Felix and Karla had turned one of Walker’s dreams into reality.

Continued in next segment.

Home of the Gray Dog - Segment 08  (18+) Chapters 36 through 40. #1131303 by J. A. Buxton