Raven's Rescue

By Mary Lee Peck

Raven's Rescue is the third book in the Raven Series. Previous books include Raven's Call and Raven's Son. In Raven's Rescue, love, anger, and danger combine in a story about overcoming life's challenges to achieve a dream. When a fire at the Kendall Ranch completely destroys the breeding barn, only Jan Livingston-Kendall believes that Raven and the two mares in the barn escaped and are still alive somewhere on the wide-open range of the Texas Hill Country. While her relatives try to convince her that Raven is dead, she continues to believe that he is simply lost and is wanting to find her as much as she wants to find him.
The love story of Olivia Blake and Justin Livingston is once again revisited in Raven's Rescue. Following a terrible accident during a cow-horse competition in Reno, Justin decides to end their relationship. Olivia struggles to hold on to her love for Justin, as Dr. Alan Davis tries to capture her heart.

Seventeen-year-old Alex Ramos is a new character introduced in Raven's Rescue. When his mother died, he ran away to avoid being sent to a group home until he turned eighteen. Lost in the Texas Hill Country he struggles to understand his mother's death and to pursue his dream of becoming a western artist like his idol, Beth Kendall-Allen. Chance encounters by the most unlikely companions, results in a heartwarming story that readers will not want to end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mary Lee Peck
• Release date: May 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311257512

Mary Lee Peck

Dr. Mary Lee Peck has been a storyteller and educator all her life and a professional writer for the past ten years. She and her sons raised and showed American Quarter Horses on a 54 acre horse farm in Ohio. She has since moved to the city, but her son and granddaughter continue to compete with their horses. Her first hand experience with horses gives her books a combination of fact and fiction making them enjoyable for the professional horse-person and the "wish I owned a horse" readers. Raven, the majestic stallion in her stories, was modeled after Rusty, one of the horses she owned. Rusty was not a black stallion, but he was unusually crafty and capable of amazing feats.Dr. Peck earned her doctorate degree from The Ohio State University in Education with a secondary focus in psychology. She has taught every grade level from pre-kindergarten to graduate school. Currently, she is Professor Emerita at a liberal arts university in Ohio where she teaches in the graduate program for teachers.

Book preview

Raven’s Rescue

By

Mary Lee Peck, Ph.D.

Raven’s Rescue

Copyright © 2015 Mary Lee Peck, Ph.D.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including digital copying, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

Other Fiction Books By The Author

Raven’s Call

Raven’s Son

Raven’s Rescue

The Mansion

Breakfast with Friends

From My Window

Non-Fiction Books By The Author

The Family Bitch

A Balanced Approach to Reading Instruction

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those who love and respect the majesty of horses.

Special Acknowledgments

Thanks to my readers who have encouraged me to write the Raven series. Special gratitude is given to Charlene Fettro, Marvene Carr, and my husband who endlessly listen to my re-writes and who offer guidance.

Raven’s Rescue

By

Mary Lee Peck, Ph.D.

Reading Research Institute.

Westerville, Ohio

Chapter 1

Raven circled around in his stall nickering and pawing at the ground. Something was not right, but what was it? His eyes stung, and his nostrils burned. The fresh breeze that typically blew through the barn at night had vanished, and dark, heavy air that choked him had replaced it. He raised his head and blasted a loud whinny. The two mares in the breeding barn with him answered his call with shrill, high pitched whistles.

At the rear of his stall, the top of the Dutch door was open, and Raven stuck his head out to get away from the choking air inside. He stiffened his powerful hind legs and pushed against the bottom of the door with his massive chest, but it didn’t open. Down the row of stalls, he saw the two mares leaning out to suck in the fresh, outside air. The loud thuds from their constant strikes against their stall doors reverberated across the pasture.

A loud, snapping sound echoed through the barn, and a sudden blast of heat became more intense as the noise drew closer. Whirling around, Raven kicked his powerful hind legs against the door, but the door didn’t budge. He struck it again—nothing happened. Gasping for air, he once again leaned out over the door to get away from the suffocating smoke that was quickly filling the barn and making it impossible for him to breathe.

As he stretched his head out over it, something shiny on the door attracted his attention. A u-shaped metal bar across the top of the door shone in the moonlight, and he immediately grabbed it with his teeth. He tugged on the cold metal; it moved. With all his strength, he pulled on it again. Suddenly, it slid sideways, and the door flew open. At last, he was free.

He raced across the pasture and sped away from the noise, the choking air, and the intense heat. A streak of lightning lit up the paddock, and a loud crash of thunder sent him running even faster. When he reached the fence line, he slid to an abrupt stop. Muddy water sprayed up on both sides of him covering his legs and splashing under his barrel. Spinning around, he stared back at the sparks of light shooting upward from the barn. Every muscle in his body was rigid, and he was trembling all over. He violently shook his body sending a spray of muddy water off his back and neck. Raising his head, he sucked in a long, deep breath. The cool night air soothed his burning nostrils.

In the distance, he heard the piercing calls from the frightened mares still trapped in the barn. He pranced uneasily back and forth in the muddy water next to the fence. Abruptly, he raced back up the pasture toward the blazing barn and the shrieking calls of the two mares.

As he drew closer to the barn, the intense heat burned his chest and legs and his throat tightened as thick, black air seared his lungs. When he reached the stalls where the two imprisoned mares continuously rammed against their stall doors, Raven grabbed the strange looking bar on each door with his teeth and tugged on it. One at a time, the doors swung open, and the mares charged past him racing down the grassy slope and away from the barn. Huge plumes of dark air rushed toward them as the three horses ran wildly back and forth at the edge of the pasture.

Frightened by the roar and crash of the crumbling barn and smothered by the oppressive, black smoke, Raven reared and pawed at the air—ready for battle against the unknown enemy. He circled the pasture in tight rounds, sending water splashing in all directions. Suddenly, he galloped toward the split-rail fence and vaulted the final barrier that prevented his escape from the danger surrounding him. Safely on the other side of the fence, he whirled around facing the blazing barn. Once again, he reared high on his hind legs, striking out at the darkness. The moonlight bounced off his black, statuesque body, and he appeared like a gigantic, powerful phantom silhouetted in the dark.

Another bright flash of lightning zigzagged across the stormy Texas sky, and a deafening crash of thunder rumbled across the mountainous rise in the distance. Raven blasted a loud whinny signaling to the other two horses to follow him. Without hesitation, the mares raced toward the fence and soared over it. With Raven leading the way, the three horses raced from the frightening scene behind them and headed toward the unknown dangers of the vast, open wilderness of the Texas Hill Country.

Chapter 2

Seventeen-year-old Alex Ramos kicked a rock out of his way and plopped down under a large oak tree somewhere in the middle of the rugged Texas Hill Country. He tossed his black plastic bag against the massive trunk of the tree, rolled his light jacket in a tight ball, and slammed it down on top of the bag. Using the jacket as a pillow, he lay back against it, glaring up at the star-filled night sky. Why me? he yelled. His angry voice echoed across the hills in the distance and bounced back to him. He drew in a deep breath and tried to calm himself by conjuring up positive thoughts, but none immediately came to mind. There was nothing positive about his life right now. He twisted around uneasily as his mother’s perennial lecture about focusing on the positive flashed across his mind. ‘Negative thoughts destroy; positive ones heal,’ she had often repeated to him whenever he was angry or upset.

At least the rain has stopped, he mumbled in an effort to change his sullen mood. In the soft, stillness of the dark night, his voice sounded unnatural to him. He could definitely hear in his voice the uncertainty he was feeling, but he refused to admit that he was afraid.

Trying to shift his attention away from his feelings, he glanced down at his boots. They were strangely discolored and water-logged. He had managed to find shelter in a small cavern, at the foot of a rocky rise, during the violent lightning and rain storm that had swept through the open Texas range, but during his subsequent trek across land, his boots had gotten sopping wet. Through the holes in the bottoms, water had seeped inside soaking his socks, and from walking through standing water and the tall, rain-soaked grass, the bottoms of his jeans were also dripping wet.

A cold shiver shook his entire body despite the heat that still lingered in the valley below the rolling rises. He glanced around at the shadowy silhouettes of the strangely shaped rocks rising and falling in the darkness. The light of the distant moon and stars above him were the only familiar things that he recognized. Everything else appeared menacing and threatening. A sudden wave of fear and hopelessness swept over him, and a single tear trickled down his cheek. He reached up to quickly brush it away.

Crying won’t help anything. Stop it.

He drew in a deep breath filling his lungs with the warm night air. Despite the rain, the temperature hadn’t dropped much. In July, Texas was hot no matter what time of the day it was. Tonight he was glad for the heat to keep him warm and to help dry his wet clothes and boots.

Might as well try to get some sleep, he mumbled. Once again, his voice sounded strange to him. It was shaky and uncertain—not at all how it sounded to him under ordinary circumstances.

He tugged off his wet boots, pulled off his thick, water-soaked socks, and spread them out on the ground next to him. Then he reached into the plastic bag that contained everything he owned and pulled out a tattered blanket.

The blanket was the only thing he had left that belonged to his mother. She had made it out of bits and pieces of old shirts, dish towels, and anything else she could find to patch together. When he was much younger, she would spread it over him every night, tucking it tightly around him as she leaned down to kiss him softly on the forehead. He remembered how her soft, wavy dark hair would fall across her face when she leaned over his bed. She was beautiful and kind, and though they never had much money, they were a happy family of two.

He pulled the blanket up over his head and drew in a deep breath inhaling its familiar smell. Running his hand across the patches, he felt the love that was sewn into every stitch. The blanket was her.

God, I miss her, he whispered. Another tear slipped through his long, dark lashes and was immediately followed by a rushing river flowing down his cheeks. He finally gave way to the anger and sadness he had been fighting all day. A loud sob floated out onto the empty range where he knew no one would hear it, and no one would care that he was alone, miserable, and frightened.

Through his tears, he stared up at the dark, star-studded sky. Why, God? he yelled. Why her? She was good and kind. She followed every commandment, always. Why would you take her? I need her. I want her back.

He realized that what he was asking was irrational and impossible, but he was angry—angry at the doctors who could do nothing to save her; angry at his mother for getting sick and waiting too long for help; and angry at God for not sending him the miracle he prayed for every night for the short, two months she lived after she received the death sentence of advanced breast cancer.

Cancer, what an ugly word. Even the sound of it is heartless and callous. He clutched the blanket and twisted it tightly in his fist as if he were trying to strangle it. Gradually, he loosened his grip and turned over on his side, once again pulling the blanket over his head.

Sleep, he muttered aloud. Sleep, he repeated. I miss you, Mom.

As his eyes slowly closed, he heard a distant, faint whinny of a