Bibles and Bones in the Forest

Chapter 1

Now

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The stallion’s hooves pounded the frozen earth along a narrow path through New York State’s rugged forest.

Twenty-three-year-old Laura Murillo leaned forward in the saddle. Faster, Champ, faster!

Vapor poured from the horse’s nostrils, and despite below-freezing temperatures, sweat beaded on Laura’s forehead, mingling with the black curls escaping her helmet.

She thanked God that the former racing thoroughbred still had plenty of spirit. She prayed he wouldn’t spook and buck.

Laura heard the approaching ATV squeezing through snow-draped pine boughs hanging over the twisted path, then a resounding gunshot.

Oh God, let someone hear.

But Laura knew she had wandered too far into the wilderness and that the dense forest muffled sound.

Her mind screamed. Why did I come back here again? What was I thinking? I could pay for this with my life. Champ too.

Laura forced back her panicked thoughts with characteristic determination etched into her attractive face. She knew every inch of the forest; one of its old, hidden trails was a mile ahead. Even though Champ was in full gallop, they seemed to move in slow motion.

At last, they reached the trail, and Laura pulled on the rein, instructing him to turn. The heavy brush swallowed them as another gunshot blasted. Laura held her breath as the ATV approached, cracking branches and crunching snow before fading past them up the narrow path.

Still, danger was closing in, and she had to warn the others.

Then

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It had all begun innocently enough, six months earlier—just three young moms escaping the doldrums of dinner, dishes and diapers to explore the beauty of the forest on horseback. The verdant canopy and gentle breeze on their faces provided relief from the sultry July afternoon.

Laura had invited Stella and Tiffany on the outing, glad for the company of her new neighbors who lived along the same rural road. But they were more than neighbors.

Married to Laura’s brother, Raúl, Stella lived in the family's rambling old farmhouse, several hundred feet from Laura and her family. Tiffany Cavanaugh and her husband, Stevie, had taken up residence in a newer home about a mile away. Laura and her husband, Chris, had purchased their own farmhouse.

The couple was living their dream. It included a recently organized horse rescue and boarding business. They built a stable and named the business Pine Brook Ranch and Rescue. So far, they owned three horses, Champ, the 16-hands tall, athletic thoroughbred and Buster, a bay-colored American Quarter Horse. Then there was Buttercup, a speckled old mare. They were also boarding four additional horses.

One of these days, I'll start giving riding instruction, Laura called above the clip-clop of hooves.

And I'll teach a children's Sunday school class, Tiffany injected, drawing a discouraged breath. Sometimes, I think I should wait until I get over this emotional funk. But if I wait until life is perfect, I’ll never get anything done, so I’m praying about taking this step of faith and claiming, First Timothy 1:7. ‘For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.’

Laura smiled. Scripture had a natural flow when quoted by the biblical scholar’s wife. Tiffany could bring the pages of the Bible into the practical concerns of everyday life.

In the lead along the path, Laura, an accomplished equestrian, was astride the spirited Champ, while California transplant Stella rode the easier-to-handle Buster. Tiffany, who had never ridden a horse until recently, was astride Buttercup. The horses clip-clopped at a leisurely pace, occasionally whinnying, shaking their heads or snorting.

Laura's German shepherd, Lady, brought up the rear.

The friends chatted in English and Spanish. Although Laura and Stella were Hispanic, Tiffany was mainly of English and Irish descent. But she had studied Spanish in high school and college and was quite proficient.

Laura told them how the horses they rode came to the ranch.

When Champ outlived his usefulness as a race horse at age four, his owners kicked him out of the barn to make room for a young stallion. They all but abandoned Champ to the elements and left him to starve. Neighbors reported his exposed ribs and weakened condition. The authorities contacted Chris and me, asking if we would take Champ in. We couldn’t say no; as you can see, we loved him and fattened him up.

Laura patted the horse’s side. He earns his keep. We get stud fees by breeding him.

Buster was found wandering in the woods, also malnourished. In the dead of winter, he was pawing through the snow for plants. He had no microchip, so we have no idea where he wandered from or who may have abandoned him. No one claimed him. But he’s got a great disposition, and we were happy to take him in. The veterinarian estimates his age at seven.

Our sweet Buttercup was never neglected, but when her owner died unexpectedly, no one wanted Buttercup because she was too old at eighteen. She was well cared for, and it shows. We couldn’t resist.

Laura changed the subject. Hey, I’m glad we got the guys to watch the kids and get the cookout ready.

Yeah, our cavemen, cooking and guzzling beer, blonde ballerina Stella laughed. Maybe even Tiff’s hubby, ‘The Preacher,’ has guzzled a cold one or two.

Tiffany smiled. I don’t think so. Stevie no longer drinks because he’s concerned it might turn people away from his Bible studies.

Oh, who cares about those stuffed shirts, Stella said with a good-natured head toss.

Sunlight shimmered in Tiffany’s red hair, cascading from her helmet. Her relaxed smile warmed Laura’s heart. She knew the rides and burgeoning friendship with herself and Stella were taking the edge off Tiffany’s anxieties about moving from Florida to New York’s Adirondack Mountains, Stevie’s home turf.

After living in Florida for a while, he returned to start a church. Still, for now, he was putting his law degree to use by working in a law firm while taking seminary classes and leading a non-denominational Bible study group. Laura, Chris, Stella, and Raúl were among several young couples meeting in homes for the time being.

As if part of the magic that day, Laura spotted a doe and fawn down an incline, drinking from Pine Brook. Its clean moisture perfumed the air, mingling with the fragrance of evergreens.

Laura pointed out the deer as quietly as possible. The threesome paused to admire the peaceful scene and take pictures.

Viewing her picture, Tiffany remarked that the collage of greenery, branches, deer and sunlit brook lent an abstract effect. She forwarded the photo to her mother-in-law, Liz, an artist. She might want to paint this. You think so, Stella?

But Stella was preoccupied with studying her face in a compact mirror. Beautiful, she purred, turning her attention to a photo she had taken of the speckled fawn.

Laura gave her sister-in-law a puzzled look, unsure if she was referring to her reflection or the fawn picture.

The deer scampered away when Lady went to lap from the brook. Laura motioned to the others.

Let's bring these thirsty horses down for a drink.

The horses were soon drinking from the brook and shaking their manes.

Laura proclaimed the refreshing interlude a perfect way to end a perfect ride.

She led the group alongside an old stone wall leading to the back of her property. The rich aroma of meat grilling on a barbecue grew stronger as the trio approached. The men's hearty laughter and the children’s happy squeals grew louder. Lady ran ahead, announcing the riders' arrival.

Once the horses were cooled down and secured in the barn, the threesome joined their families around a table spread with food. The husbands and children had been waiting, and everyone was eager for hamburgers, chicken, potato salad, baked beans and corn on the cob. All ate to their heart's content.

Later that starry night, the couples and sleepy-eyed children gathered in the driveway to say goodnight.

Something had annoyed Stella, and she let the others know. So, I send my dad the picture of the deer—and what does he say? Instead of ‘wow, that’s amazing; he said he doesn’t want his Princess going in the woods, even on horseback. He reminded me that his sister-in-law, Liz, was chased by a bear in that area.

Stella rolled her pretty blue eyes. He told me wild animals or perverts could lurk in that lonely forest. Dad’s seen too much blood and gore in the Army. It’s stayed with him.

Laura nodded in agreement. She knew Jack well; after all, he was married to her mom, Rosa, who had mentioned Jack’s nightmares about watching a buddy’s head explode when a sniper shot him. But Rosa was cathartic for him, and the couple lived happily in St. Augustine, Florida.

Suddenly, amid the din of chatter, Laura heard a bone-chilling scream echoing from the dark hills, directing her attention there. She pressed her finger to her lips. Did you hear that? I could swear I heard a woman scream in the distance.

Catching the alarm in Tiffany's eyes, Laura wished she could take back her words.

I thought I heard something too, Stella concurred, clutching her chest.

Raúl came to the rescue. It was just a red fox. Their shrieks can sound like a woman screaming.

That’s probably it, Laura replied, watching Tiffany breathe in relief.

Yet, in her heart, Laura knew she had heard a scream—and it was human.

She wondered if she should call the police. But her brother—a sheriff’s deputy was right there, and he didn’t seem alarmed.

He said it was a red fox.

Reasoning that he would know, Laura tried to put the incident from her mind.

Chapter 2

Then

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Life continued its hectic pace despite the scream that invaded Laura’s thoughts.

She had her share of responsibilities. They included her two lively preschool youngsters, who kept her busy enough. Add to that house cleaning, plus the endless cooking and laundry.

Laura was also an equal partner in caring for the horses with her well-muscled, young husband, who otherwise worked in a convenience store.

Stella and Tiffany lent a hand when they were able. They exercised, fed, brushed the horses, and even mucked out the stalls. They would also gather eggs from hens in the barn, the harem of one pompous, crowing, leghorn rooster.

A few stray cats that had wandered into the barn and became residents would peek out from corners or stretch out in sunbeams. Laura recognized their value because they helped keep down the rodent population. She connected with a local feral cat organization and made sure the felines were spayed and inoculated.

All the barn animals co-existed.

It's as if they instinctively know their survival depends upon it, Laura told the others.

An athletic dancer, Stella said she enjoyed working with the horses for the additional exercise it offered. Tiffany said it was therapeutic, and she would laugh with delight when Buttercup licked or nuzzled her. She did not even mind picking the rocks and debris from the sweet mare’s hooves or shoveling manure.

Her help and Stella’s made a difference for Laura and forged a bond among the trio.

She thanked them with free eggs or a chicken she would butcher, pluck, and gut. There were also the sumptuous Puerto Rican meals she would cook.

The weekly Bible study group led by Tiffany's husband, Stevie, was another outlet.

Several young couples were regulars. Some attended Protestant churches. Others, such as Stella and Raúl, Laura and Chris, were devoted Catholics. Yet others attended no church at all and came out of curiosity or for socialization and free snacks. Stevie's attorney skills helped keep the sometimes lively discussions civil.

Things were characteristically casual that summer night as Laura and Chris hosted the gathering at their home. Everyone munched on tea sandwiches and other goodies for the taking. Children who’d come with their parents chewed and talked, dropping crumbs.

Lady was wallowing in the attention of a few adults and begging for food, until Laura closed her in a bedroom.

The group was studying the New Testament book of John. Even Bob Collins, an agnostic who attended with his believing wife, Justine, had an open Bible. However, his face wore a dubious expression.

Stevie read John 3:7 from the New International Bible, settling his long, lean body onto a chair. You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’

What? Bob asked. Whose saying is that?

Those are the words of Jesus, Stevie answered.

Bob scratched his head. Maybe I believe in a historical Jesus, a teacher and a man of peace. But as far as this 'born again' thing goes, I got it right the first time. Why should I do it again?

It's a spiritual birth, knucklehead, Carla, who always had something to say and quite loudly, called out.

Well, I don't need it, and I don't want it, Bob retorted, until his wife gave him a gentle nudge.

Stevie took it in stride, and the rest of the Bible study went well.

Later, everyone said goodnight in the cool evening air, carrying sleeping children and strapping them in car seats. Just to let Bob know there were no hard feelings and he was more than welcome at the gatherings, Stevie accompanied him to his car. The two spoke about sports while their wives discussed a child’s finicky eating. All at once, Bob stopped short, pointing to the moonlit hills.

Hey, Preach, you see those birds flying in the moonlight? They look like vultures, but that’s not possible. Vultures aren’t nocturnal. What's going on up there?

Laura forced back the thought it might have something to do with the scream she heard a few days earlier and residual human remains.

A couple of days later, Stella and Tiffany came to help at the stable.

They greeted Laura, who had been working since 8 a.m. with her little ones in tow. She inhaled the cool morning air, accented with barn smells of leather and earthy hay—to Laura, perfume.

Stella and Tiffany also brought their children. Stella had three-year-old Tyler, a bundle of energy from a previous relationship. Her husband, Raúl, had adopted the boy. Tiffany carried in one-year-old Faith, crowned with auburn hair and just starting to walk and talk. The company thrilled Laura's children, who were Tyler's age. While Faith stayed close to her mom, the others ran through the barn, raising the volume to deafening levels.

But when Tyler chased a cackling chicken, his mom told him to settle down. Stella then went back to brushing Buster.

Through it all, Lady sat alert in the barn's open doors.

Stella looked up from brushing the bay-colored Buster’s black mane.

One of Raúl's fellow deputies at the sheriff's office owns an abandoned country store about five miles west of here on High Point Road. He said we could rent it for almost nothing for me to set up a dance studio, provided we make some repairs. The option of buying is on the table.

That's great, Stella! Tiffany exclaimed with a big smile. Setting up a dance studio has been your dream. I can't wait to see the place.

Laura, however, was pensive as she added fresh hay to the next stall. High Point Road. Gee Stella, that's a desolate area.

I know! I know! Stella moaned. Raúl said the same thing. Of course, he had to tell my dad; you know how overprotective he is. Now he’s reluctant to help me with the legalities like he said he would.

But Stella knew what to do.

This is my dream, and you’re trying to take it away from me, she wept to her husband and father.

All worked according to her plan; the men succumbed, and Stella soon was driving Laura and Tiffany to see the building. With the husbands at home, the friends could leave the little ones behind.

On that cool morning in late July, temperatures dropped as the friends drove to higher elevations along forest-lined roads. Laura observed her friends appeared dressed for different seasons. While Tiffany wore a long-sleeve sweater and pants, Stella wore shorts, baring her curvy dancer legs and a halter top, showing off her toned, flat stomach. Laura had donned her usual jeans and t-shirt.

Finally, they pulled up in front of an abandoned country store with weathered siding. Its dusty display windows stared at a few old houses across