lunge line and told her to canter. With a click of her tongue and a flick of her wrist, they were off on the right lead. When they were done, we un-tacked and cooled down. Now I told her to name the mare, she hadn't come with a name, and the standing rule is, 'you don't name a horse before you ride it out for it's real name'. She decided to wait and ride one more time to feel for a name. The next ride was bareback because I was assured of the mare's dissociation with other horses I'd gotten from auction. That was the first time I really saw her mother in her. Jasmine's magical connection with her horse was something I had sorely missed for the years Jasmine had been missing, but I saw it in her daughter. It was probably appropriate that her daughter was named after her. "Jasmine Jr." as much as she hated the "junior part of it, most people (especially her brother) called her Jess. I liked the name Jasmine, so I will only call her Jess to avoid confusion when necessary. Jasmine finally settled on the name "Jewel's Patch" for her mare. More commonly known around the barn as Patches.
Jasmine (Jess), grew slender and beautiful, inside and out she was a princess. The year after I bought Patches, I looked back at pictures of Jasmine and Jewels, Jewels and Patches could have been identical. I never guessed it. I should have, but had it not been for those pictures I never would have known. They were the same horse. I called the auction and asked about the call number for Jess’s horse, they said sure enough, Mike Weaver had been the one who sent her. Jewels was back in my barn, where she belonged. However, she belonged there with Jasmine. We had half the equation complete. I prayed for Jasmine, not knowing where she was. Perhaps Jasmine would never see Jewels again. In a few years time, (the whole of which Jess worked with Patches) it was time for Jess to go to college. Unfortunately, the only college that had the degree she wanted was on the end of Utah farthest from New Mexico. That university was fully equipped with a barn on campus, so Jess took Jewels. Everything was fine for the first two years she was there. Unimaginably, at the most impossible time, the improbable happened. We received word from her mother, Jasmine. My heart beat in my chest, blood couldn't get to my head fast enough. My fingers went numb and I dropped the letter. It was just like Jasmine, to address a letter to me instead of her parent's address.Common sense spake that I would be slower to move than her parents. It took me a few minutes to recover, but when I had, I slowly stepped over to the phone and dialed Jasmine's parent's number. I asked if I could come over in the next few minutes, and with no hesitation, they said yes. A few minutes later, I stood on their doorstep, letter in hand. Waiting to deliver the impossible news. When Mrs. Conners opened the door, she must have seen some look on my face. "What's wrong?" she asked. I handed her the letter. "You'll never believe it, we're going to Utah".
On a plane the next morning, Mrs. Conners fiddled nervously. I felt a twinge of sympathy. I had no kids of my own, but I knew not seeing one or knowing where they are for five years had to be painful. Though we were desperate to find out what happened, we couldn't help but be painfully nervous about seeing Jasmine again. Upon arrival, her thick, black, bushy hair was immediately recognizable. Looking more aged than she should be, Jasmine grinned. Her mother immediately embraced her. I stood by and watched for a moment, then hugged her. Still anxious to find out what had happened to her, we went to an airport restaurant and began talking. "Now," I leaned across the table just slightly "we want to know what happened." John, Jasmine's husband held her hand as he sat next to her. Jasmine also leaned forward a bit "You want to know the truth?" obviously, we nodded. "I can't remember a thing.”
When her daughter heard the news over a phone call from her, she hung up, and pulled on her stetson while sitting atop her horse as she watched the sun disappear. Feeble, wavering, red sun that had scorched the day leading up to this point. Dead grass, dying trees and withering flowers all relayed the story of the last month. Everything was scalded, scorched, burned and parched until they finally gave up and died. Few plants remained.
Solemnly watching the last of the sun, she turned her horse with a twist of her wrist, a simple reining trick she'd reluctantly taught the skittish mare. Jasmine and her horse headed off, home-bound in the night. She wanted to look her mother in the eyes. “You were so lost.” she thought sadly.
Epilogue: College ends.
Jess ran into her mother’s waiting arms at the airport. She’d only seen her for a few days at a time while school had lasted. Now she could spend very much time with her. As much as they wanted, and she couldn’t wait. On the way home, she slept in the back-cab of my truck. How were we going to break the news to Jasmine? This would be impossible. When she awoke, we stopped at a coffee shop just outside of town. Jess and I sat Jasmine down. “Jasmine, this is very, very hard for me. This is bittersweet news that may just break your heart.” Jasmine’s eyes grew wide. “We... oh man. That plaque in your room? Do you remember the horse? Jewels?” Jasmine grinned, “Of course I remember that mare. She was the most wonderful thing on earth to me!”
“We found her.”
“No way!” Jasmine shrieked, so loud, that the inhabitants of the coffee shop all turned and looked at us.
“We did. But wait. Listen.” Jasmine’s face fell, Jess took it from here.
“I got to ride her, mom! She’s so perfect. But when I went to college, she was really old. One day, her time came. She was tired. She died in her sleep.”
Jasmine’s face contorted. “I never got to see her again. Never, ever.” then asked an unexpected question. “How did she ride?”
“Smooth.” said Jess. “Smoother than-”
“Glass.” Jasmine finished. “Smoother than glass.”
Let’s finish at the end. Because the end of a story is not always where you think you should find the end of the story. That ending is just a quelling ending of the ending of the ending. All this to create a further true ending.
Then I woke up, looked around my room. Sat straight up in bed and looked outside. It was only just a dream. Jasmine was still 14 years old and riding Jewels in the flower strewn front pasture. “You were lost.” I stuttered, and flopped back onto my pillows.
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