Rock's Revelation

by Danni Roan

  Mary Ellen looked between the two men sure she was missing some hidden message, but it wasn’t her place to ask. Still she couldn’t help but wonder what on earth the mysterious package might contain.

  “See ya at supper,” George called chuckling as he watched them amble down the street.

  “I can’t believe I’m going to see a real life round up,” Mary Ellen enthused as they came to a stop in front of the general store.

  “I wouldn’t call it much of a round up,” Rock said sitting easy in his saddle as a tow-headed boy raced out the door and handed him a large paper sack.

  “Here ya go Mr.” the boy said pulling a piece of hard candy from the corner of his mouth with a sticky hand. “You gonna have all that to yerself?” the boy asked his blue eyes bright.

  Rock chuckled. “No, I’ll be sharing with a friend.” Kicking his horse into a trot the big cowboy looked over his shoulder to see Miss Bigsby lift the old gray mare into a trot as well.

  Mary Ellen paid close attention to her surroundings as she held tight to the saddle of the horse she rode. She wasn’t sure about this particular bouncy gate, but if Rock thought she could do it she’d try.

  Today would be an interesting day for her. She would see the vast herds of long horn cattle she’d read about and watch as cowboys wrangled the headstrong animals into line.

  Rock glanced to his right to see Miss Bigsby bouncing along on her horse. He wondered if he should slow his pace a little for her not wanting her to be too uncomfortable but she was smiling so he carried on.

  She was such a tiny little thing to be perched so proudly on the old gray mare. A hint of sun broke through the winter weary sky catching her dark locks and making the silver strands glow.

  An unfamiliar feeling rose in Rock’s chest and he turned his eyes and mind back to the trail ahead.

  About half way between town and the Rocking A Ranch, he veered off the road through a clump of trees heading toward the foothills where cattle had been bunched for the harshest weather.

  “My isn’t it beautiful out here?” Miss Bigsby said gazing around her, but correcting her horse’s direction each time the mare headed for anything edible.

  The morning clouds were beginning to scatter and the day was warming despite the chill off the mountains ahead.

  “Will Quil come out?” Mary Ellen asked as an unfamiliar excitement fluttered in her chest.

  “Probably not,” Rock said. “With little Andrew she’s kept mighty busy lately.”

  Mary Ellen put the disappointment aside and concentrated on staying in the saddle as the trail they were on began to climb finally breaking out of the trees and into the rolling hills beyond.

  “Look cows!” Mary Ellen cried as she watched a lumbering herd of about fifteen cows make their way across a field. “There are some cowboys out there too,” she said pointing then grabbing her saddle horn to steady herself again.

  Rock chuckled. “Yes ma’am.” He watched the petite woman scan the area letting her horse pick its way along the path. “We’re headed up toward that lot there,” Rock said. “You see that big red animal with the short horns?” he pointed off into the distance. “That’s Herman.”

  “Oh, he doesn’t look like what I thought a bull would look like,” Mary Ellen stuttered. “I mean I’ve seen cows of course, but he looks like one of those prize bulls from back east.”

  “That’s just what he is,” Rock said. “Years ago Mr. Adams bought him as a calf and raised him right here at the ranch, so he could improve the herd.”

  “Did it work?” Mary Ellen asked.

  “You bet, now we need to bring him on down out of the hills for the spring season.”

  “Won’t it be dangerous?” Mary Ellen’s eyes sparkled with the thrill.

  “Not if you know his little secret,” Rock said kicking Pal into a trot.

  Mary Ellen kicked Miss Betsy into a trot, holding tight as the horse broke into a canter to catch up with Rock. Soon they were riding toward the big bull who raised his head and snorted, snot flying from his nostrils in warning.

  “Oh my, he looks fierce,” Mary Ellen said gathering her reins.

  “Come on Herman,” Rock called turning and reaching into his saddle bags for the parcel he’d stuffed there earlier. “I got ya a treat.”

  The big Herfordshire bull lifted his head sniffing the air then took a step forward.

  “Mr. Bannon, are those peppermint sticks?” Mary Ellen asked in amazement.

  “Yes ma’am,” Rock said with a laugh. “Herman was raised on them and he can’t resist.”

  The big bull sniffed the air again taking another step toward them then broke into a lumbering trot making Mary Ellen gasp in fear.

  “Don’t worry,” Rock said easing his chuck of a horse in front of her. “He’s gentle as a lamb as long as you have these.” He shook the bag and the bull lumbered up to him rolling his eyes and sticking out his tongue to take the treat.

  “Well I never,” Mary Ellen gasped. “Who would have thought?”

  Rock turned his horse pushing Miss Betsy around with him and started down toward the gathering place where cowboys were busy separating out calves.

  “The Brodys run some of their herd up this way as well,” the big man said as Herman lumbered along contentedly chewing his peppermint stick. “They’ll separate their cows and calves out of the herd and move them closer to home today, but my job is to bring Herman down to the ranch.”

  Mary Ellen laughed and the sound zipped to Rock’s heart like an arrow to its mark. “I never in my wildest dreams would have imagined a bull that likes peppermint.”

  “We do things a little different in Biders Clump,” Rock agreed making the turn toward the ranch.

  In short order they delivered Herman to a large high railed corral near the barn. Mary Ellen watched in fascination as Rock led the massive bull to the gate and without dismounting opened then closed it behind Herman.

  “Just in time,” Rock said with a grin. “This is my last peppermint.” He handed the fat stick of candy over to the bull whose nose barely reached the top of the gate. “Now how about that lunch Miss Polly packed for us,” he said turning back toward the trail.

  Rock led the way back up the trail to a spot overlooking the gathering area where Miss Bigsby could watch the cowboys separating cows and calves or pushing stragglers down into the mingled herd.

  Dismounting he helped the little woman down and unfastened the basket from his saddle. “Now let’s see what treasures await.”

  Mary Ellen smoothed her skirts and let Miss Betsy graze along with the much bigger stock horse as Rock opened the basket and pulled out a heavy table cloth.

  In a few minutes she and Rock had the table cloth spread on the ground and the food set out. There was fried chicken, potato salad in vinegar and bacon dressing, boiled eggs, and biscuits.

  “How in the world did Polly Esther get so much in such a small basket?” Mary Ellen asked peeking into the depths. “And look there are two slices of pie as well,” she said lifting them out.

  Rock grinned settling on the edge of the wide cloth and taking the plate Miss Bigsby assembled. “Miss Polly is a wonder,” he said taking his first bite of potato salad and grinning his approval.

  “It’s a bit cool out here yet for a picnic,” Mary Ellen commented, “but I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She pulled her warm coat closer about her and took a bite of her chicken.

  “It’s a mighty pretty day,” Rock agreed. “We’ve had a bit of a break from winter I reckon.”

  “It’s already March,” Mary Ellen mused. “Spring is just around the corner.”

  “Spring and new things growin’. New life poppin’ out everywhere all at once. We already have a fair number of calves chasin’ around after their mothers.”

  Mary Ellen smiled at Rock. He seemed to see things through a poet’s eyes even if he didn’t care to read much. “It’s been a lot of years since I’ve been on a picnic,” she added gazing off across the fie
lds.

  “It’s almost like when folks is sparkin’ and go on picnics and the like,” Rock said swallowing hard as the words fell from his lips. It seemed they had no sooner entered his head then they’d come out of his mouth. “I’m sorry Miss Bigsby,” the big man said his ears turning red. “I didn’t mean to, that is to say I just meant, well…”

  “It’s alright Mr. Bannon,” Mary Ellen said, her heart warming. “I know you didn’t mean any offense, and frankly I find it quite flattering that you could see our little lunch in such a light. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I’m far too old to be ‘sparkin’,” she added. “I never even had a beau, so I’ll put this lovely experience in my journal and look back on it fondly one day.”

  Rock felt the blush run all the way to the roots of his hair but his heart dropped at her words. “Why do you think you’re so old?” he asked, not hesitating long enough for her to reply. “Jasper Williams and Ruth Farrow are away on their honeymoon right now and they’re older than you are.”

  Mary Ellen fidgeted with the food on her plate. “Yes, but I understand they have both been married before. Mr. Williams has Janine, and I believe Mrs. Farrow has a daughter as well.”

  “Lucinda,” Rock replied. “She’s married to Willem, but what’s that got to do with it?”

  Mary Ellen looked up into kind brown eyes. “No one is interested in ‘sparkin’ a spinster.”

  Sorrow filled Rock’s heart at the words Miss Bigsby said. “Who says so?”

  “Why everyone.”

  “Well I don’t agree. There ain’t no reason a woman like you shouldn’t have someone come courtin’ if you wanted them to. You ain’t so old, and you’re easy on the eyes even if you are only about as big as minute.”

  Mary Ellen threw back her head and laughed. “You are a very kind man,” she said.

  “I’m just tellin’ the truth,” Rock was getting a little annoyed that the woman wouldn’t take his word on the matter.

  “Mr. Bannon please don’t bother yourself over the matter. I know you mean well, but I’m an old spinster well past my prime, but today made me feel young for just a moment and I’m grateful for that.”

  Rock ran a hand behind his collar. It didn’t seem right that Miss Bigsby should write herself off as if she were insignificant and useless. She was a fine looking slip of a woman and should see herself that way.

  “So no one never brought you flowers, or sweets, or took you drivin’ in all your years?” he asked looking up at her as his mind ticked over.

  “No,” she said. “I had my job and the children and that was enough for me.”

  Rock looked up into her eyes searching them for the glint of regret he knew was hidden there.

  “I never had no sweetheart myself,” he said softly. “I was too busy working for Mr. Adams then when he passed Mrs. Maud had a pretty bad time. Besides, no woman in her right mind would look at me twice. I’m too big to bother with.”

  “Don’t say that,” Mary Ellen said reaching toward the big man then pulling her hand back. “You’re a big man, but lots of big men marry and have families.”

  “Nah,” Rock drawled. “I’m set to be an old bachelor for sure, but at least I’ve got a place to stay for life, and I know Quil and the girls will look after me if I can’t see to myself no more.”

  Mary Ellen’s heart went out to the boulder of a man. He was saying exactly what she felt, but she had no one to turn to in her dotage.

  “Miss Bigsby,” Rock looked up his soft eyes bright. “Would you allow me to call on you while you’re here in Biders Clump?” He waved away her arguments before they began. “I don’t mean like for real or nothin’ just for,” he paused. “Well for the experience I guess you’d say.”

  A slow smile spread across Mary Ellen’s face. “Are you proposing a pretend romance?” she asked.

  “I guess I am,” Rock said nodding. “I mean neither one of us ever had no chance to do all them things young folks do, so we could get through the motions to know what it’s all about.”

  Mary Ellen sat her plate on the tablecloth and smoothed her skirts. “You know I’ll have to leave in only a few weeks?” she asked.

  “Yes ma’am, but that won’t matter because we’re just pretending’. When we’re old and gray we can tell folks about the one that got away,” he finished with a chuckle.

  Mary Ellen laughed softly. “It might be fun,” she agreed, “but what about your work?”

  “We won’t be into the spring round up for another three weeks,” Rock said. “I get regular days off, and I can send you a message with Prissy or one of the girls if I can’t call.”

  “I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “You won’t be a bother. You’ll be lettin’ me do something I never had a chance at before.”

  “Well if you’re sure,” she looked into his brown eyes and smiled. It would be fun to pretend she was a young woman being courted by a beau. What could it hurt to play along? “What will other people think?” she finally asked.

  “Folks won’t mind. Seems someone’s always getting’ hitched in this town, so folks are used to couples fussin’ after each other. Besides, you’ll be going home in a few weeks, and we’ll go our own way, so there won’t be no need for a wedding.”

  Mary Ellen reached out her tiny hand and Rock enveloped it in his large calloused one. “Deal,” she said trying not to giggle.

  Chapter 13

  “Good morning Mrs. Dalton,” Francis greeted as he stepped into the church. “Is Father Dalton around?”

  Pastor Dalton’s wife looked up from where she had been dusting a pew and smiled. “He’s in his study,” she said kindly. “He’s just a pastor though,” she reminded, her light blue eyes gentle.

  “I am sorry, it is difficult to remember,” Francis said.

  “No one minds,” Mrs. Dalton said. “Is anything wrong?”

  Francis shook his head making his mane of black hair swing across his shoulders. “I wanted to see if a message has come.”

  “Well you go on in,” Mrs. Dalton said, “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

  Francis nodded stalking toward the office door on the balls of his feet. Mrs. Dalton knew that the young man had a heart of gold, but he did move like a wild thing.

  “Lord, I hope you have a plan for that boy and young Matrice because from what I can see her father is set against the whole thing,” she said returning to her work.

  “Come in,” Pastor Dalton called as he scribbled a note for this week’s sermon. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but he smiled when Francis stepped over the threshold and closed the door.

  “Hello Father. I mean Pastor Dalton,” the young man said. The brave couldn’t be more than twenty at the most, but his smooth face and lean figure still couldn’t hide his agility.

  “How can I help you Francis,” Pastor Dalton asked leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers across the front of his frock coat.

  “I was wondering if you had heard anything from the valley?” Francis asked standing before the big desk and bouncing slightly on his toes.

  “No, I’m afraid not. I know the valley’s open now, since Titus and the Bentley’s made it through, but that doesn’t mean anyone has gone to town to get a message.”

  Francis nodded stoically. “Yesterday Mr. Ratner allowed me to eat at his table,” the young man said, his word hanging like a thin cloud in the room.

  “Well that’s good news isn’t it?” Pastor Dalton said leaning forward and placing his hands on his desk. “At least he let you in the house. How did it go?”

  Francis shook his head. “It was very nice to sit with the family again and to be able to share a meal with Matrice, but her father was like a snow storm on the other side of the mountain. I could feel the chill all the way to my bones, though I could not find where it was coming from.”

  Pastor Dalton nodded his head in understanding. “Well Francis you do need to be patient. Mr. Ratner comes from a very different place where p
eople tend to judge others by the way they look.”

  “Yes, I know of these people,” Francis said. “There are many who call me savage and scowl at me when I go into any town. They think that I am not a real person, or that I will do some terrible thing because I am a red man. They do not look inside my heart and see who I truly am.”

  “I’m afraid it is a failing among most people,” Pastor Dalton agreed. “We tend to want to put everyone in a little box and label it all neat like, so we know what to expect, but people are so much more than what others see on the outside. Take you for example. You were not content to trust a message to the wire, and you came all the way here to make sure that the Bentley’s knew their kin was safe. It takes a determined man to do that.”

  Francis didn’t say anything because he knew his decision to come all the way to Biders Clump, when he could have delivered the message to the town near his valley, was a bit foolish.

  “Just think if you hadn’t come all that way you never would have met Matrice.”

  Francis’s eyes grew wide as he contemplated the preacher’s words. “I would not be happy about that.”

  “You need to be patient a little while longer,” Pastor Dalton said. “We shouldn’t try to put people in a box, but trying to put God in a box is just plain impossible. If he wants this to be no one can stop it.”

  Francis smiled reaching across the desk to take Pastor Dalton’s hand. “Thank you Fath.. Pastor Dalton. I will remember your words and make myself be patient.”

  Chapter 14

  Mary Ellen took a seat at the back of the church next to Rock who had come to escort her to services that morning.

  It had been odd walking to church on the arm of the big cowboy but rather fun as well. As a young woman she might have lifted her chin and strutted just a bit to be seen with a man like Rock.

  Squirming on the hard bench just a little she looked at her companion who smiled down at her. She couldn’t help but wonder what Mr. and Mrs. Olson thought of the two of them sitting together in church like a of couple teenagers.