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With this segment of Chapter Sixteen of Repairing the Legacy, we continue the serialization of Repairing the Legacy. This is a rough draft work in progress and may not reflect the final form. Time period: set after the ending of The Martiniere Legacy main trilogy. I’m breaking longer chapters into sections for readability. This is the first part of Chapter Sixteen. There will be six parts to this chapter.

New to the series? Chapter order:

Chapter One, Section One

Return of the Prodigal Son (2 parts)

Conversations and a Dinner (2 parts)

Dancing into Change (2 parts)

Sisterly Compromises (3 parts)

Conspiracies at the Rodeo (3 parts)

Passing the Baton (4 parts)

Research Complications (3 parts)

Chasing After Shadows (3 parts)

Fifth Anniversary Present (3 parts)

Mariah (5 parts)

Shadows, Redux (3 parts)

Accidents Happen (4 parts)

Maternal Memories (4 parts)

A Voice…Weeping for their Children (6 parts)

Winding Down the Years (4 parts)

June, 2073

GABE

Eventually, Gabe managed to sneak away from Ruby’s supervision, with the help of Terri Granger, the ranch manager now that Charlie Thompson had retired after his husband Martin’s death. Gabe stayed behind when Ruby and Mike went to Portland for a maintenance check on Mike’s cyborg parts, and an assessment of Mike’s progression toward needing his legs to go through the cyborging process.

Charlie would have insisted that Gabe not go out on the ranch alone. Mike would snitch to Ruby if Gabe tried to sneak out while he was around. But Terri—well, he could easily sweet-talk her into letting him take a crawler out for a day-long expedition on the ranch. The old persuasive Gabriel magic, with just that tiny touch of mind control pushing in his vocal tones.

He took along a locator—Ruby had that much influence over Terri. Fixed a lunch, included a small flask. Not a lot of whisky, just enough to sip as he drove and thought. The locator and an ancient tablet were the only electronics that Gabe carried with him. And he switched off notifications, leaving only the emergency app running.

This trip was an experiment. If what he was feeling was something that Philip had planted in him, something long-term and dangerous, perhaps getting to the parts of the ranch that still had connectivity issues might reveal something.

Or it might not.

Worth testing his hypothesis.

Normally, if he were just running the crawler around the ranch, he could make the circuit in four hours. Gabe planned for longer—and advised Terri of that, to avoid triggering any concern on her part. Promised to hit the alert button on the locator if he started feeling bad. He took plenty of water, and a blanket to sit or lie down on. At some point a nap might be a good idea. Both walker and cane, just in case. A pad and pen, so he could take notes should his hypothesis prove to be true. That tablet—not his daily work electronics, but an old, shielded one that he used for field work that didn’t connect with the ranch networks anymore. Just in case he came up with a programming idea.

At the very least, he would be getting outside. Not the tame outside that being limited to the front lawn included. The real outside. On the ranch he had grown to love, more than he ever could Moondance. He and Ruby had wrestled with the Double R for all those years, together.

Moondance still meant exile from his dearest love, in spite of recent history.

The Double R—he didn’t have Ruby’s years and history on the place, but it was home.

If his mind and body really were failing, then today would be a good farewell.

Gabe started his expedition by cruising to the upper fields. Bridge field. Draw field—and that bridge where little Mikey had shown his horsemanship mettle during his first non-arena ride by sticking on through Crystal’s giant leap, because the old Paint mare disliked crossing bridges.

Gabe grinned at that memory, then sighed. Would Mike ever be able to ride again?

Not with Mike’s legs in their current condition—and they weren’t failing badly enough to start the cyborg process. Unless Ruby and Mike learned otherwise today. And even then, Dr. Pramula, the specialist in charge of Mike’s cyborging, urged caution. Part of that caution was technology-driven—the longer Mike waited for the initial cyborg work, the better the long-term results were likely to be.

Gabe continued on, driving the crawler up the steep incline to Homestead field. Ah, Homestead. The field with cranky pivot sprinklers that never wanted to work right, back when he was a young man doing his best to keep the ranch producing income. Every summer before divorcing Ruby, Gabe had spent hours fighting the Homestead pivot line. Irregular connectivity and water pressure, and insufficient funds to do anything about it—then.

Part of his first summer as Gabriel Martiniere on the Double R had involved fixing that pivot line for good.

He stopped the crawler here and hobbled to the edge of this year’s wheat, still green and forming kernels, leaning on his cane as he looked past the field to the Thunder Mountains. So many memories. Worth a sip of whisky.

Homestead. The field where Ruby had continually fought interference with the RubyBot signals, especially during the pivotal year of 2059, during the AgInnovator. Where Mike’s instruments screwed up and they started to learn about that mysterious worm, when trying to perfect the Guardians—still a lost cause. Only the Swaits could handle the Guardians. If any Martiniere touched them, they went awry.

Why?

Homestead was relatively tame now, but even with improved connectivity and water pressure, it still could be a challenge to run bots on it, or deal with electronic pivot controls. Something about the underlying geology of the field—not something Gabe knew that well. But it was a good test field simply because of those issues.

And his thoughts still held that fuzziness. Not a good sign. Then again, connectivity had been improved at Homestead. The problems here were erratic, which was part of Homestead’s challenge.

Gabe clambered back into the crawler. He steered around the edge of the field and into the draw that separated the Double R from the Reed place next door.

If things didn’t change here—

This was where the testing of his hypothesis would really begin. Ladyslipper Draw and Ladyslipper Spring, named after the Ryder family term for the rare calypso orchids that still sprouted in a damp year. No connectivity here.

And it was a damn pleasant place to eat lunch, take a break, another sip of whisky, and a nap, especially on this nice warm day. Gabe drove the crawler close to the spring, near the plastic pipe outlet that funneled water from the fenced-off area into an old iron water trough. He hobbled around, spreading the blanket on a partially sunny hillside spot under big Ponderosa pines, then carried his lunch, flask, and water over to it.

Was it wishful thinking that he seemed to be able to move better?

Before settling on the blanket, he knelt beside the outlet and carefully scooped himself a handful of the spring water. Terri tested all the ranch springs regularly, and Ladyslipper had always produced sweet-flavored water.

One last taste.

It didn’t fail him now. Still as cold and sweet as ever. Gabe drank another handful, catching more in both hands to rub over his face and rinse off dust.

He didn’t need to use his cane to get back up and hobble over to the blanket. And he didn’t hurt as much.

Not imagining that.

After eating and sipping the whisky, he lay back on the blanket to drowse, using his old black Stetson to shade his eyes.

He already felt better. His mind seemed to be clearer. Now if he just took a nice little nap, here at Ladyslipper, the place of so many memories—

Ladyslipper Spring. The most private location on the Double R. Where Brandon had most likely been conceived on a hot spring day. Where Gabe and Ruby began their serious reunion discussions, after learning about the degree to which Philip and the AgInnovator had compromised Brandon’s freedom. Where kidnappers—sent by Philip—had left Gabe to die, thirteen years ago.

Despite that last memory, he still loved Ladyslipper.

And perhaps, after a nap….

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