by Rebecca York
“We’ll start by sorting the bills, physically. We need to do that before tax time, anyway.”
“Right. I’ll make up some cards with the categories I usually put things under. We can get them in the right category, then enter them onto the spread sheets.”
It was a lot more than Carlton had ever had to do. Ranching was a business, and needed to be run like one. With three of them sorting, they finished in about an hour.
“Is that all?” he asked, looking at the piles of paper.
“Yes. We didn’t have that many sales this year, and I tried not to buy anything unless it was an emergency. Now we need to enter them into the computer. We can start with sales first.”
Later, when everything was entered, Helen looked at the envelopes containing the receipts. “Wow. I never thought I’d get through it. It looked bigger than it was.”
“You paid the bills as they came in, so it wasn’t as bad as you made it out to be,” Todd said.
“Yes. But the ones that bothered me were the big ones that I couldn’t pay, like our second half property taxes.”
“I’ll send to my Spokane bank for a checkbook,” Carlton said. “As soon as it comes, I’ll get that paid.”
Just paying that bill would take a sizeable chunk out of his grant.
“It’s late,” Todd said, heading to the stairs and calling Rufus with him. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”
***
Helen was surprised at Todd, going to bed so early, then, recalling the looks he had been giving her and Carlton, decided that her son was playing matchmaker.
That was good. It would be hard to marry a man her son didn’t like. It left her free to see if he really was the man for her. She thought he might be. There hadn’t been much time to find out.
Gratitude for his help mustn’t be construed as love. A marriage had to weather the good years as well as the bad. Starting off with her so deep in debt had given him a chance to help her, to show he probably wouldn’t abandon her when she needed him.
She hoped he was the right one. She couldn’t imagine a better present. She’d been praying for someone, someone she could love like she had loved Ken. When would she feel ready to give Carlton an answer?
“Let’s go into the living room,” she suggested. “We need to talk some more.”
“Fine with me. I need to know more about you.”
“And I you. Where you grew up. What your family life was like. Your beliefs. Even your politics.” She’d been amazed at what popped up after she and Ken were married. Luckily, they were compatible on most things, but there were some things they had to agree to disagree on.
“And I want to hear those things about you. I’d like for you to tell me what you loved about Ken, and why your marriage was so successful. If you can figure out what made it work so well.”
“Ken and I?” She smiled, a secret smile of a lost love, a beautiful life that she had thought she would never have again. “We were childhood sweethearts, doing everything together. Even then we could almost read each other’s mind. We liked the same things. There were few things we disagreed on. One was music. He liked jazz and I liked Country Western. I listened to my music when he wasn’t around, he listened to his when I wasn’t. When we were together, we listened to classical or rock.”
She had never had the chance to really talk to someone about Ken, not like this. People sympathized with her after his death, but they were too busy to ask her what she missed about him. Or what their love had been like.
They went into the living room and sat down on the couch in front of the fire. It was easy talking to Carlton, sitting close with his arm around her, staring into the flames.
“We were so happy when Ken’s father said that we could take over the ranch, because that was all we really wanted to do. Raise cattle and kids. But I lost my little daughter when she was three, and it nearly destroyed us both. Not our marriage. We had Todd. I tried again, but could never get pregnant again. We both wanted another child, and we considered adopting. The lawyers wanted so much money, we decided to just keep trying.”
“Do you still want more children?”
“Yes. But I don’t know if I can have any.” Would that matter to him? Most men wanted a son of their own.
He shrugged. “How old are you? I’ve know women to have children in their forties.”
“I’m not quite that old. Just thirty-six. Would you mind if I couldn’t have another child?”
“I haven’t thought about it. I’d be proud to have a child with you. We can try, but if you can’t, then that won’t lessen how I feel about you. I wouldn’t base our marriage on whether or not we could have children. You have Todd. For all I know, I might not be able to. It’s not a defect, you know. It just happens.”
“I know.”
“Did you always want to be a wife and mother when you grew up, or did you want to be something else?”
“Nothing else. I wanted only to marry Ken. My high school counselor was pretty upset. She was trying to help prepare me for a career, and I told her that all I wanted to do was to be a wife and mother. I thought that was the greatest career any woman could have. Still do.”
“I agree.”
“She kept trying to get me to name some field I wanted to study, so I said Home Economics. I figured that would help me prepare better than anything.”
“And did it?”
“For everything except helping Todd through high school. If it weren’t for the online courses, he wouldn’t have advanced the way he did. As it was, he and I learned together. There are excellent online schools, some offering complete curriculums. Now you can take online college courses and get a degree. It will be wonderful if you can help Todd with some of his courses. He’s far beyond me.”
“For sure I’ll help him if he needs it. My focus has been on analyzing soil samples, so I’ve forgotten some of the math and science subjects I had to take. I’ll probably have to figure it out again, with Todd, so that when he wants help I’d be able to give it to him. If you don’t keep using those skills, you lose them.”
“Where did you grow up?” she asked, curious.
“Moses Lake. That’s in Eastern Washington. Pretty much flat country.”
She nodded. “I’ve been there. Just driving past.”
“Most people do. I left as soon as I was old enough to enter the military. My family moved near Puyallup while I was in the Marines. I stayed there summers, on and off while attending Washington State University. I’ve pretty much lived in Washington, except for when I was deployed overseas.”
“Where?”
“Afghanistan. Don’t ask me about that. I lost a friend there.”
“Then I won’t.”
“Music? What kind do you like?” he asked her, and they compared likes and dislikes. She could see he was tolerant, and decided that was more important than anything.
The next day they drove to town and set up a new living trust. They put themselves on as trustees, and Todd as successor trustee. Then they added her three sisters and Carlton’s brothers, then their parents, keeping the successor trustee list long. Anyone in his right mind would realize the trust was there to stay.
***
Two days later Carlton and Todd went down to the pond, carrying the fence-building supplies with them. The posts were at all angles, very few still standing straight up.
“Once the cattle have the wire down, they use the posts as scratching stations,” Todd said. “We used to try to keep the wire up in the summer, but it’s a losing battle.”
Tufts of hair decorated most of the fence posts, confirming his statement.
Carlton put down the roll of wire he was carrying, and picked up the posthole digger. He didn’t expect it to be easy to dig up the frozen ground, and he was right. Todd grabbed the metal pole and joined him, dropping the pole on the frozen ground to chip away at the soil.
They took turns with the first post, and then went on to a second and around the pon
d. If a post looked like it was anywhere near vertical, they left it.
“It’s a lot easier to do this job in early fall,” Todd said, shaking his head. “Before the ground freezes.”
“Maybe we should build a small fire on top of the hole and thaw it out,” Carlton suggested. He was joking, but Todd actually considered it.
“Naw. The ground would freeze up again before we got the hole dug.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
They got the posts all up, and had started unwinding the second strand of barbed wire when Carlton felt a blow to his side that staggered him. He tried to grab the post as he fell over, but he tumbled into the snow even as he tried to figure out what had happened. Seconds later the sound of a gunshot sent him mentally back to Afghanistan, and he yelled at Todd.
“Take cover! Someone’s shooting at us!”
“What?” Todd had walked to the other side of the pond to get a bucket of staples. He stood there, looking around, chilling Carlton with the fact that he was a clear target.
“Get down! Now!”
“But...”
“Now!”
Todd dropped into the snow and lay there. Carlton listened for another shot, but didn’t hear one.
“Are you hit?” he yelled.
“No,” Todd yelled back, sounding bewildered. “Just doing what you said.”
“Good. Stay down. Did you hear that shot?”
“Yes. It might be a hunter, although elk season is over. We hear them shooting, now and then, especially at the start of hunting season. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Carlton looked down at the snow under him. It was gradually turning red. His side felt like it was on fire. He groaned, not realizing how loud it was until Todd spoke up.
“Were you hit?” He could hear the fear, bordering on hysteria, in Todd’s voice.
“Yes. Now stay down and listen to me. I want you to run to the barn where you’ll be safe, and phone the sheriff. Have him come along with the medical helicopter. That might or might not have been a hunter. And Todd...”
“Yes?”
“Zigzag as you run. Now get going.”
The teen jumped to his feet and ran to the barn, zigzagging as he ran. Todd had been the one to find his father. The boy was having a tough time growing up.
Carlton fought the buzzing in his ears and gritted his teeth against the pain as he rolled over just enough to get his hand down to his side. How bad was it? Pulling away his coat, he rolled his glove into a hard ball and shoved it into the wound.
If the shot had been intended for him, and not a stray bullet from a careless hunter, he knew of only one person who might be angry enough to shoot him. Ben.
Well, he didn’t intend to die and give Helen and Todd any more reason to mourn. Grabbing his belt, he unbuckled it and slid it out of the belt loops. Then he raised it a bit higher and re-buckled it, cinching down on the glove he had stuffed in the wound.
Pressure. He needed to keep from losing any more blood. Hopefully the medics in this area had dealt with gunshot wounds before. A lot of medics were former soldiers, military trained, and these were the ones whom he wanted to come to his aid.
He lay there in the snow, fighting to stay awake, going in and out of consciousness, more from shock than pain. He had a reason to stay alive now, he realized. While in Afghanistan he hadn’t been too bothered. He knew it would upset his family if he got killed, but everyone died at some point.
His ear was getting cold. He wished he could raise his hand enough to cover it, but he didn’t have the strength. Chills began to shake him. He spat into the snow, but saw no color to it. Good. The shot might have missed his lungs.
He needed to move. If the gunman was still waiting, he might shoot him again, but Carlton knew he had to get to the barns where he could find shelter. The hay would be warm.
From there to the house wasn’t far.
A scrunch of snow, sounding a perfect series of beats. Someone running to him. He tried to open his eyes, to see who it was.
“Carlton!” The voice of an angel. His angel.
“Helen.” His voice sounded so weak. Almost a whisper. “You shouldn’t be out here. Someone’s shooting—”
“I know. Todd told me.” She knelt beside him. “He’s coming with the toboggan.”
“Good. Did he call the sheriff?”
“Yes. He did exactly what you told him to do.” She lifted his coat, saw how he had used his belt and glove, and lowered it back down again. “That looks good.”
“It does?”
“Yes. I’m not going to touch it. Did he hit you anywhere else?”
“No.” He tried to raise his head. “My ear’s cold.” It seemed a trivial thing, but it bothered him. She slipped her hand under his head, between his ear and the snow. It felt warmer instantly.
“Better?”
“Yes.” He realized she didn’t have any gloves on. He forced himself to concentrate on her. She wasn’t even wearing a coat. It was sunny out, but not that warm.
“You’ll get cold,” he said. “Take my coat.”
“Todd’s coming. I won’t be out here long enough to get cold. I’ve got my heavy sweater on. Now be still.”
He nodded, felt his eyes close.
“Stay awake,” she said. Something touched his lips, and his eyes flew open. She had kissed him. “Stay with me.”
“Always,” he vowed.
She kissed him again. “Always. Don’t leave me.”
“Never.” He forced his eyes open. He could see Todd running toward them, pulling the toboggan.
“Marry me,” he said.
“I will. I love you.”
“You mean that?”
“Yes. I never thought that anyone would ever take Ken’s place, that I could ever love anyone else again. But I recognize the same feelings I had for him—I now have them for you. Trust. Friendship. A desire to share my life with you. Marriage is a partnership. I’d never marry someone I don’t trust.”
She bent to kiss him again and he returned it, silently pledging his life to her as he did so. “I love you too,” he said, and knew he meant it.
Todd stopped next to him with the toboggan. They pulled it beside him and rolled him over onto it. He had to steel himself against crying out with the pain. Then Todd pulled him back to the house, with Helen following behind.
She had put herself between him and the gunman, he realized, as the toboggan bumped and swayed over the uneven snow. What a woman.
“Go in the front door,” she told Todd. “It’s wider.”
Carlton was barely able to hold on, but they maneuvered him and the toboggan through the door, and then pulled the toboggan right up to the fireplace, red snow dripping all over the floor. Helen didn’t even seem to notice as she knelt beside him.
She took hold of his hand and he hung onto it, as to a lifeline. His lifeline. That’s what she would always be to him. He knew it and it made his heart sing with joy in spite of the pain.
“Watch for the helicopter, Todd,” she said. “They’ll need to know where it’s safe to land.”
“On the road,” Carlton said, his voice hoarse. “No power lines where the driveway meets the road, as they shortcut through your pasture. Bring them in on the road.”
Todd turned to go out.
“Wait,” Helen said, calling him back. “I put food on the table. Fill a plate and take it out with you. Eat while you wait for them. You might not get another chance for several hours.”
Her son ran into the kitchen and came out shortly with a plate piled high with food.
“You should do the same,” Carlton told her, releasing her hand. “I’m not going anywhere for now.”
She kissed him, and rose to go.
“I’d get shot everyday for more of those,” he said, and she smiled. She bent down and kissed him once again, and he regretted not being able to kiss her back very well. He wanted to hold her, but instead watched her hurry into the kitchen.
She returned
with some food just as he heard the chopper overhead. She stopped, hesitated.
“Eat,” he said. “They know what they’re doing, so eat as much as you can, as fast as you can. They might stay for a while to stabilize me, but you never know.”
She shoveled in the food off her plate, and had just finished gulping it down when the front door opened and Todd came in, followed by the medics. Todd put his empty plate down on the floor, much to the delight of Rufus.
“Where’s the sheriff?” Carlton said, as the medics bent over him. He didn’t see anyone coming in who was wearing a uniform.
“We dropped him and his deputy off on the way,” one of them said. “He spotted a man with a rifle running towards a truck, and asked us to set him down beside the truck.”
“I hope they don’t get shot,” Carlton said.
“You don’t know our sheriff. He used to be a big game hunter before he decided he needed an easier life. He won’t have to track this man through the snow, but if he had to, he could do it. I wouldn’t want to face him in a shootout.”
“How will he get back?”
“He called for more men as we were dropping him off. They’re probably already there. Any idea who it was?”
“I’m not sure. I hope it was just a hunter, being careless.”
***
Helen watched as one of the medics hooked Carlton up to an IV, while another removed his belt and glove, and fixed a new compress bandage on the wound. When that was done, they shifted him from the toboggan to a litter.
“Clean in and out,” one said, smiling down on him. “It might have nicked your lower rib, but it got mostly skin. Loss of blood was your greatest danger, as it left a pretty long, wide furrow. Rather like being speared.”
“May I come with him?” Helen asked.
“Yes. There’s room. Or would you rather drive in? You’ve no way of getting back.”
“I’ll come for you, Mom,” Todd said. “Go ahead. Call me when you’re ready to come home.”
“We’ll have him patched up and back in no time,” the medic promised. “They might keep him overnight, that’s all. Get you home in time for New Years. They’ll probably put on an artificial skin covering they use that allows the real skin to heal under it.”
