Lucy faced a battle of logic and emotion. The promise of California, and a life less ordinary, was to the west. The possibility of salvation for Carter demanded she continue west. But the gray ridge of the mountains that sliced through the map was a weight on her heart, an obstacle to be met. She knew that Lynn was waiting on her to make the call. If she chose to push on, the responsibility for both their lives lay on her.
The creek stayed clear, if not deep, and the wind was warm. Lucy watched as it ran its fingers through Lynn’s loose hair one day as they went in search of the stream’s source. To the west, thunderheads were piling, creating their own impressive mountain range in the sky. Lucy snuck a glance at Lynn.
“I see it,” Lynn said. “If it behaves anything like that last storm, we don’t have time to make it back to the house. We’ll head for the creek and try to find some decent shelter beneath a tree.”
Lucy nodded, her thoughts still tangled in themselves.
“In the meantime,” Lynn said, as she turned Black Horse’s head, “I wouldn’t mind you letting me in on what’s going on in your skull.”
“So that you can figure out what to do?”
“More or less. If you’re set on staying, we need to gather wood, stockpile food. Wouldn’t hurt to set aside as much water as possible. We don’t know how reliable this stream is, year round.”
“In other words—same life, flatter scenery.”
Lynn didn’t say anything, and Lucy shot her a glance. “I didn’t mean anything by that.”
Lynn shrugged. “Sure you did. And you’re right. No, your life wouldn’t be any different than mine was. Same worries, but with the same satisfactions, too. A place you call your own, to guard and to keep.”
“All alone on the prairie,” Lucy finished for her.
“You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“It is a bad thing, to me!” Lucy said, violently enough that Spatter turned his head to see what was the matter. “I want to be with people, Lynn. I know you don’t understand that, but . . .”
“Spit it out.”
Lucy felt as if her feelings were roiling in her gut, spilling out in a tide that found a form in words and made her decision for her before she knew it had been made. “I got this feeling, like we talked about the other night. I got this what if deep down inside me. If I don’t go all the way, if I settle for what we have here, I’ll never know what I could’ve been.”
Lynn rode quietly for a few minutes, digesting what Lucy had said. “Well, you have to want something, right? Your momma said once that when you go, you go big. I guess I signed up for this a long time ago without knowing it.”
“If you don’t want to, Lynn, I can’t ask you to—”
“Shut it, I’m going. You want this, right down to your marrow. All I ever wanted was a rainfall and to live to see the sunrise. I had those, and plenty of times over. Now it’s your turn, and I’m with you to the end.”
The sky broke around them, the rain masking the tears that ran out of Lucy’s eyes at the relief of having made her decision, and the fact that she didn’t have to go it alone. Lynn gave Black Horse a solid kick, and he took off for the stream, Spatter racing to keep up. The horses hit the bank and skidded to a halt in the mud. The women dismounted and clustered under the tree, pulling their mounts in with them as far as they could.
The smell of warm, wet horse filled her nose, and Lucy nuzzled Spatter’s velvety nose. He pushed back against her with a contented grunt and Lucy laughed, but an unfamiliar voice carried on the wind and she fell silent. The look in Lynn’s eyes said that she heard it too. She motioned to Lucy, and they slid down the bank to glance downstream.
A bedraggled woman was hunched under a scrubby tree, yelling ineffectually at her children to get out of the creek before the rains made it swell. But the two kids, scrawny yet smiling, were splashing each other without a care in the world.
Lucy knelt near the ground next to Lynn. “What’re we gonna do?”
Lynn sighed heavily. “What I always do when I find needy children in creek beds.”
The children squealed and ran to the mother as Lucy and Lynn approached, arms in the air to signal they meant no harm. The woman watched them warily, one arm wrapped around each child’s head as though her flesh and bone could protect them.
“We’re not hurting anybody,” she said nervously. “We come to this here crick every now and then for a washing and a taste of water.”
“We’re not here to fight over water,” Lynn said.
“Bullshit,” said a man’s voice from behind them, and Lucy spun on her heel to see a painfully thin man watching them. Even unarmed it was clear he’d take his chances against them with his bare hands if he thought they would hurt his family. “Everybody fights for water.”
“Not us,” Lucy said. “It’s not our way.”
“Then you ain’t lived long enough yet,” he said to her, then turned his gaze to Lynn. “You’ve fought for it though. I can see it in you.”
“Once or twice,” Lynn said steadily. “But not today.”
The storm let loose all around them, the wall of rain they had watched leave the mountains overtaking them in a torrent. One of the children whimpered behind them and the woman shushed it, still clutching them tightly to her. “I don’t think they mean no harm, Jeff,” she said, raising her voice to be heard. “They could’ve had the better of me ’n’ the kids in a heartbeat, but they didn’t take it.”
“I was watchin’,” Jeff said. “Wasn’t nothing gonna happen to you and the kids.”
“Nothing but pneumonia,” she shot back, scooting farther up the bank and against a tree trunk, vainly searching for more cover.
“We’ve got a house,” Lucy said, still facing the man but aiming her words over her shoulder at the drenched mother. “Plenty of food, real beds, a fire to dry yourselves out by.”
“Food, Mama,” the little girl said, her high voice rising above the drone of the storm. “Food.”
“We’re going to head on back home,” Lynn said slowly. “If anybody here is interested in our offer, you feel free to follow.” She nudged Lucy and they turned their backs on the family, ignoring the muted argument that sprouted behind them before they were two steps away.
“Think they’ll come?” Lucy asked under her breath as they cleared the canopy of the trees into the full brunt of the storm.
“She will, and she’ll bring the children. Him, I can’t say.”
“I bet he does,” Lucy said, thinking of the glances that had passed back and forth over her shoulder, the communication the couple had built over years in each other’s presence. “He cares about her, couldn’t you see it?”
“I saw a desperate man with no weapons trying to protect an underfed woman and two skinny kids. She better hope he cares for her, ’cause his life would be a lot easier without them.”
Lucy broke into a trot to keep up with Lynn. “Is that how you feel? That your life would be easier?”
“Maybe, but it also would’ve been less interesting.” They hit the front porch together, pulling wet clothes away from their skin and peering through the rain.
“Well I’m glad I could entertain you all these years,” Lucy said.
Lynn’s sigh was loud enough to be heard over the pounding of the rain on the porch roof. “Yeah, kid, that’s it. I took you in because I thought you could give me something to do in all my spare time.”
“Why then?” Lucy asked.
“Why you asking me this all of a sudden?”
“Well . . . I . . .” Lucy’s voice trailed off as she looked to the east, anxious to spot the dark shadows of the small family finding their way to them. “I guess it never really occurred to me before. You’re pretty much all I remember. I grew up thinking that’s the way things were—I lived with you, Grandma lived with Stebbs, Maddy and Carter lived with their mom. I never really considered the fact you had a choice in the matter.”
Lynn focused her eyes on the horizon, away f
rom Lucy. “My mother had a choice too. There are things women can do to be rid of babies they don’t want before they even come to be. Even once I was here, all she’d had to do was walk out to the pond and toss me in it, no one to know the better. One woman, two lives to manage, and everything falling apart all around her. But she did it, and she never said a sideways word to me on the matter. And I did it for you, and I’ll keep doing it ’til one of us is gone. In a world like this, you pay it forward, ’cause more than likely you didn’t deserve it when you got it the first time.”
As Lynn’s words faded away, the storm lessened and Lucy spotted four figures slogging toward them in the gray haze of the evening. “Pay it forward, huh?”
Lynn shrugged. “Well, that, and I do kind of like you every now and then.”
They left in the dark hours before dawn, sliding between the children’s clothing that hung from the rafters, dry but still smelling of rain. The woman was sleeping in the corner, curled protectively around her children even when unconscious. The man sat at the table, slumped forward. They’d left him crumpled there after he’d fallen asleep at his watch, determined there must be some foul trick yet to come that he would protect his family from despite his fatigue. The exhaustion had won out only an hour before, and Lynn and Lucy packed their things quietly, easing the door open only as far as necessary for them to slip outside and find the road again.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
Eighteen
The road welcomed them back by laming Brown Horse south of the Kansas border. The land had become unruly, and while the flat plains of Nebraska had frightened Lucy with their unending stretch, the Kansas badlands had her clutching tightly to Spatter’s reins, willing him not to break a leg. The horses stayed near a meandering river called the Arikaree that carved its way through the hills, leaving a thin gouge through the land.
Lynn stood by a patch of yucca, inexpertly holding Brown Horse’s injured hoof in her hands. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”
Lucy scratched Spatter’s nose as he brushed up against her, nuzzling her clothes for the spears of yucca she had hidden in her pockets. “Do you know for sure it’s her foot that’s hurt? Could it be her leg?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Lynn said, carefully putting Brown Horse’s hoof down and giving the animal a halfhearted pat on the rump. “Even if I knew what was wrong with her, I wouldn’t know how to fix it.”
“These hills won’t do her any favors either,” Lucy said, looking out over the rolling land that undulated like sheets on the line in a breeze.
Lynn nodded her agreement. “Only thing I can think to do is let her stand in the water awhile. I know I welcome a good soak when my feet hurt.”
Lynn’s aversion to traveling alongside the waterways had been overrun by the horses’ refusal to leave the path of the Arikaree. More than once they’d fought against their riders’ commands, and neither woman was sure enough on horseback to argue with them. The horses had won the day, and Lynn had grudgingly admitted it might have been the best route anyway, as the river they were following would take them nearly halfway through Colorado and in sight of the mountains.
Lynn unburdened Brown Horse and led her down the steep gorge into the flowing river, Mister following her lead. Spatter flicked his ears at his comrades, then looked to Lucy as if in question.
“I know,” she said, “it’s not like Lynn to go on down to the water without checking for people first, is it? I think your friends might be growing on her. Next thing you know she’ll be skinny-dipping.”
Spatter snorted.
Brown Horse and Mister seemed content to wade in the shallows near the bank while Spatter stuck by Lucy’s side, following her into the shade provided by the wall of the narrow gully. Lynn was resting against it already, keeping a keen eye on the horses as they complacently wandered away from the women. Lucy plopped beside Lynn, surprised when cold water seeped through her pants.
“Bank’s not as dry as it looks,” Lynn said.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“You’ll dry off soon enough, once we go back out into the sun.”
The heat had stayed with them, although the humidity was gone. It was easy to misjudge whether they were overheating in the thin, hot air, and more than once Lucy had seen black spots in her vision before she realized how close she was to passing out. She’d kept that fact to herself, and her water bottle full.
Lynn cleared her throat. “I wanted to tell you . . . I don’t really say it much, but you taking a chance for something, taking a leap like this in the name of an idea . . . Well, not everyone works that way. Including myself.”
“Obviously I’m a better person than you,” Lucy sniffed, smacking her hand against Lynn’s kneecap.
“Maybe, but you could learn to take a compliment,” Lynn said, returning the smack lightly to the back of Lucy’s head.
Lucy shrugged. “That family needed the house more than we did anyway.”
“And they’ll have a good life, and you to thank, but that might be cold comfort once we hit those mountains.”
“Yeah, the mountains,” Lucy muttered, sending a rock spinning out into the stream. “I’m not too crazy about those. I can’t quite get my head around it, Lynn. I want this, I do, but the bigness of the world. It . . . it kinda scares the shit out of me.”
“I can’t remove the mountains from our path, little one. Would that I could.”
“Yeah,” Lucy said, watching Brown Horse favor her leg as she limped away from them. “I wish you could too.”
Lucy woke to the sound of strange birds calling overhead, and a man-shaped shadow spread across her blanket.
“Shit!” She leapt to her feet, her cry bringing Lynn upright, gun in hand.
The stranger held Brown Horse’s lead, not at all fazed that both women were holding rifles on him.
“Morning,” he said.
“You won’t be taking that horse from us, if that’s what you got on your mind,” Lynn said.
“I’m not intending to hijack your possessions,” he said casually, pushing his hat up on his forehead and wiping away the faint sweat that glistened there in the morning sun. “I’m asking permission.”
“Well, then we say no,” Lucy said.
“I don’t think you’re quite considering the ramifications for this here mammal. She’s hurting.”
“We know,” Lucy said defensively.
“Why’d you go for the injured horse?” Lynn asked, stepping closer to Lucy while keeping an eye on the stranger. “Why not take a healthy one and cut out while we were asleep?”
“’Cause that’s hardly in your best interest. Mine either. Or the horse’s, for that matter.”
Lucy heard Lynn sliding up beside her, felt the older woman’s arm brushing against her own as she lowered the rifle a bare inch. The stranger was still regarding them placidly, one hand jammed in his jeans pocket, the other loosely holding Brown Horse’s reins. He was unarmed, smiling, and completely in control of the situation.
“Lynn, what the hell is wrong with this guy?”
Lynn shook her head, and the man offered his own explanation. “I suffer from an old-fashioned malady called compassion, though these days it’s more like to be called a personality handicap.”
“I don’t know there’s anything wrong with him so much as he just likes big words,” Lynn said quietly to Lucy.
“Ladies, I understand your apprehension. I walked into your camp unannounced, and for that I apologize. Two women traveling alone have the right to be suspicious, but I swear I am a good man.”
“Only good men I ever knew are dead or behind us,” Lynn said, rifle raised again.
“I didn’t figure I’d overcome your misgivings on the spot,” he said, sliding one hand up and down Brown Horse’s muzzle. “How about you let me administer to this here horse and
give her back to you. Would that inspire some trust?”
Lucy’s brow furrowed. “What the hell are you? A wandering, cracked-in-the-head, free horse doctor?”
“No, girl,” he said, his smile touched with a hint of sadness. “I’m what I claim to be—a good man.”
The women were silent for a moment, so still their rifle barrels rose and fell with their breathing.
“What do you think?” Lucy asked Lynn.
“I think he has honest eyes,” Lynn said quietly, lowering her gun. “But don’t think I won’t blow ’em out of your head if I change my mind,” she said to the stranger.
“I’ll remember your stipulation,” he said, already holding Brown Horse’s hoof over his bent knee.
Lucy kept her gun in her hand but stepped closer to see what he was doing. “Do you think you can help Brown Horse?”
“Brown Horse, eh? You girls adhere to descriptive nomenclature. Brown Horse . . . Crazy Free Horse Doctor . . .”
“What’s your real name, then?” Lucy asked, unsure whether she was being mocked.
“Fletcher.”
“Fletcher?” Lynn repeated, watching Lucy close the distance between herself and the stranger. “What kind of name is that?”
“The kind my mother liked,” he replied, running his fingers over Brown Horse’s hoof. He glanced up at Lucy. “You’re not horsewomen, are you?”
“Not really, no.”
“Mmm.” He gently set Brown Horse’s leg back down on the ground and patted her. “From the condition of her, I’ll assume you don’t have a hoof pick?”
“A what?” Lynn called over the distance.
“If you’re interested in overhearing our conversation, you’re welcome to join it,” Fletcher said. “Feel free to bring your gun.”
Lynn hesitated before coming over to stand next to Lucy.
Lucy could feel every muscle humming in Lynn’s body, ready to erupt into action if necessary.
“Your mare is experiencing thrush in her frog,” Fletcher explained, kneeling back down and pulling up Brown Horse’s foot to illustrate.
In a Handful of Dust Page 13
