Once More a Family

by Lily George

  Ada smiled and sipped at her tea. Not likely they did, because Emily wouldn’t have had it. But, of course, she could never say that to Laura. Let the poor child imagine her parents as happy. It was kinder for her to picture them that way even if it wasn’t true. In fact, the more she heard about Jack’s miserable first marriage, the more she could see why he would have a skeptical view of the institution as a whole. As she knew all too well, marriage could wind up as a terrible trap.

  She pushed her food around on her plate to make it look as if she was eating, but she could not bring herself to taste a single bite. It had been wonderful, for that brief moment, to experience such a kinship with Jack. Never had she felt that close to anyone, including members of her own family. Yet it must not have meant anything to Jack. At the very least, he was perturbed about it to the point of doing his usual thing—roaming out on the prairie until his anger abated.

  She flicked another nervous glance out the window. It was terribly dark outside, though. Wouldn’t Jack come in when it was so late? He did seem anxious to keep his promise to Laura to be home.

  There was a sudden pounding on the back door. Ada rose so quickly she knocked her chair to the floor. Cathy, seemingly unperturbed by the noise, wandered over to the door to answer it. There was a murmur of voices, and then the dining room door swung open.

  “Miz Burnett, this is Mr. Burnett’s hired hand, Johnny Macklin,” Cathy announced, ushering the man into the room. He was slightly shorter than Jack and had a rugged, unkempt quality about him. His face was so weathered he could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty years old.

  He ducked his graying head and lumbered into the light, where she could see him better. “Miz Burnett, I sure hate to disturb you while you are having your supper, but I need to speak to the Boss.”

  She shook her head regretfully. “I’m sorry, Mr. Macklin. Mr. Burnett hasn’t returned from feeding the cows. Something must have kept him.” Her cheeks flushed warmly as she attempted an expression of casual disinterest. Did Mr. Macklin know that her husband had a tendency to wander off, fuming, when upset? She raised her eyes to look at him.

  He jumped, as though her words startled him. “How long has he been gone?”

  “I’m not sure. I suppose we expected him half an hour ago.” She smiled politely. “Would you like to join us until he returns?”

  “No, ma’am.” Mr. Macklin’s craggy face now reflected a strange sort of alarm. “I need to find him right away. If he’s not here, then something is wrong.”

  Ada’s heart thumped painfully against her ribs. “What makes you say that?”

  Mr. Macklin looked pointedly at Laura. Ada glanced over at her stepdaughter. She was staring at both of them with her mouth open, the dinner roll she had been eating now crumbling from her fingers. “Has something happened to Father?” she asked, her eyes wide with fear.

  “I’m sure everything is fine,” Mr. Macklin replied, his voice calm and friendly. “It’s just that, well, our bull, Asesino, has gotten out of his pasture. I don’t want the Boss to try to herd him back alone. That animal is too large and too ornery for a single man to handle.”

  He was being calming for Laura’s sake, but Ada sensed the underlying trepidation that radiated from him. “Of course, we wouldn’t want that.” Ada tossed the words off as breezily as if they were contemplating a picture together in a museum. “I’ll come help you. Laura, finish your supper. When you are done, I want you to change into your nightgown and ready yourself for bed.”

  Laura nodded, her face drained of all color.

  Ada snatched her shawl from the back of the chair, more out of habit than any real need. The night air blowing through the open windows was cool but not chilly. She wrapped the length of silk around her shoulders and followed Mr. Macklin out onto the back porch.

  “Miz Burnett, I don’t want to alarm you, and I sure didn’t want to scare his little girl,” the hired hand said as they made their way across the darkened lawn. A feeble beam of light bobbed from the lantern he carried, illuminating their path. “I’ll be side-gaited, but she looks like Miz Burnett. The first one, I mean.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Anyway, Asesino is Spanish for assassin, and that bull lives up to his name. He charges at anyone who gets in his way. I don’t know how he managed to get out, but he did. I hope Mr. Burnett didn’t try to corner him alone.”

  “I hope so, too.” She scanned the pasture around them, but it was so dark that she had difficulty seeing beyond the weak shaft of light from the lantern. She had no experience with handling cattle or bulls, but Father had briefly owned a stallion, Zeus, that had been a living nightmare. He was a handsome creature to be sure, but nasty tempered. He broke one groom’s arm, another groom’s leg and destroyed a stable wall before Father shipped him off to a breeder in Virginia. If Asesino was anything like Zeus, then she would remain terrified until she found Jack safe.

  She stumbled in the dark, and Mr. Macklin caught her. “Take it easy,” he admonished. “We need to slow down. If we get hurt, we’ll be no help to the Boss.”

  She gathered two things from that remark. First, that Mr. Macklin must expect Jack to be injured. Second, that he expected to find her husband. She was horrified by the foremost thought but slightly heartened at the other. Even though every nerve within her strained to press forward quickly, she obligingly slowed her steps.

  After a moment, Mr. Macklin said quietly, “I see something.” He pointed to an object in the pasture that looked oddly out of place. It must be a pile of fabric, perhaps some rags buffeted about by the wind. But, as they drew closer, she picked out the vague outline of something. Whatever it was, it was not plant life; nor was it an animal. Her breath caught in her throat.

  “Jack,” she gasped.

  “Yep, it’s him.” Mr. Macklin broke into a run, the lantern bobbing up and down with his stride. Ada struggled to keep up and to maintain her balance without tripping and falling. Jack was lying on the ground. He should not be doing that. Jack was vital, always moving. If he were lying down, he was badly injured. Or—

  She grabbed her skirts in both hands and ran, her boots pounding across the tough prairie sod. Macklin reached Jack’s side first. He set the lantern down and called, “Boss?” He knelt beside Jack. His face, deeply shadowed, registered concern.

  “Is he alive?” Ada gasped, flinging herself beside them.

  Macklin put his head close to Jack’s, listening intently. “He’s breathing.”

  “Thank You, God.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “What happened? Why is he here?”

  Macklin shook his head. “I can’t tell. He’s injured badly. He’s breathing, but he’s not conscious. You and I are going to have to carry him to the house.”

  Ada nodded. He was alive. He hadn’t died. And there she had been, assuming that he was in a sulk. If Macklin hadn’t come tonight, what would have happened? She couldn’t think of that now. It wasn’t helpful. The only thing she could do was to assist her husband now that she knew he needed her.

  “The Boss is a big guy. I don’t know how we’re going to lift him. I don’t know how he’s injured, either,” Macklin said grimly. “We’re just going to do the best we can.”

  “Wait.” Ada unwrapped her shawl. “Would this help? The fabric is very strong.”

  “Yep. I think we can use that.” Macklin held the lantern up so that the fence line was lit. “The gate is closed. He must’ve been able to get away from Asesino. The old reprobate’s probably in the pasture with the other cows.” He rubbed his hand across his chin. “There’s a couple of extra braces inside the gate. If I can pry them loose, we can make a stretcher out of your shawl.”

  “Yes.” Ada could have cried with relief. “What a brilliant idea.”

  Macklin took the lantern and went over to the gate. Left alone in semidarkness with Jack, she took his hand in hers. Then she cradled his rough, callused hand against her cheek, as though she could will the strength from her body into his. Don’t die, she begged.
Laura had experienced so much loss and upheaval in her life. She needed her father.

  Macklin grunted, and a splintering sound echoed across the still night air. Then he returned, two uneven wooden poles in his hand. Without a word, Ada placed Jack’s hand on his chest and busied herself helping Macklin tie the fabric into sturdy knots. Together, they gently rolled Jack onto the stretcher.

  Macklin looked from the stretcher to the lantern. “We can’t carry both. Do you want to go for help?”

  She shook her head violently. What if she left Jack with Macklin when he needed her? What if something even more terrible happened?

  “I can go.” He gazed down at her as she knelt beside Jack on the stretcher. “Is it all right if I take the lantern?”

  “Of course. We won’t move. We’ll stay right here.”

  Macklin grabbed the lamp and made his way back up to the house, the lantern making a circle of light as he grew smaller in the distance. She was alone on the dark prairie, but, strangely, she was not afraid. Help was coming. Jack was alive. She would pray until someone came to rescue them.

  She took Jack’s hand once more. At first she began all the prayers she had memorized since childhood. After a while, though, she began to pray whatever came to her mind.

  Jack was motionless on the stretcher, but the faint rise and fall of his chest beneath her hand made her feel more secure.

  Could he hear her? She leaned over him and whispered, “Jack, I’m here. Everything is going to be all right.”

  There was a sound of distant shouting, and this time there was more than one circle of light approaching. Macklin must be bringing several helpers. She squeezed Jack’s hand and then struggled to her feet.

  Three men, along with Macklin and Cathy, came to her side. The men each lifted a corner of the stretcher, while Cathy supported Ada by placing her arm about Ada’s waist.

  “I’m quite all right,” Ada assured her maid. “We shall carry the lanterns and walk ahead of the men.”

  The progress back to the house was unbearably deliberate and unhurried, but what could they do? Until they knew just how badly Jack was injured, they couldn’t jostle him around. The darkness, even when punctuated by glowing lanterns, made for slow going.

  When they reached the porch, Ada set down the lanterns and opened the back door. The men filed inside.

  “Should we take him up to your room?” Macklin asked.

  Ada opened and shut her mouth, unsure what to say. Jack had his room, and she had hers. Explaining just why they had separate rooms when they were supposed to be man and wife was embarrassing, and now was not the appropriate time.

  “We’ll put him in the room at the top of the stairs,” she said. “In case he needs to make an extended recovery.”

  If the men found this odd, or if they found the room to be rather lived-in with Jack’s things scattered about, they were too polite to say anything. They moved Jack carefully onto his bed, and his eyes opened and shut briefly.

  “He might be coming to,” Macklin said. “Should I go for the doctor?”

  “Yes, please.”

  The other men filed out of the room, respectfully shaking her hand and introducing themselves as they left. She nodded and thanked each one. They were all cowboys who worked for Jack on the ranch. Thank the good Lord above that they had been available to carry him.

  Ada drew up a chair and sat beside the bed, her heart finally resuming its natural beat.

  There was a rustling in the doorway. Ada glanced over and beheld Laura standing there in her nightgown, her face pale and her eyes huge.

  “Is Father all right?” she whispered.

  “He had an accident. We think Asesino charged him,” Ada explained, holding out her arms. Laura hesitated for a moment and then stole quietly into the room, accepting Ada’s embrace. “Macklin has gone for the doctor.”

  “May I stay in here until the doctor comes?”

  There were so many reasons to say no. Laura had school in the morning, and she would not be well rested if she hovered at her father’s bedside. However, it was unlikely that she would sleep if Ada ordered her to bed. This was also one of the first times that Laura really wanted to be in her father’s presence. It would be cruel to deny her this chance.

  Ada nodded and pulled another chair to Jack’s bedside. Then, after Laura had settled herself, Ada reached over and took her stepdaughter’s hand in hers.

  Thus they sat, silent and at peace together, waiting for the physician to arrive.

  *

  Jack drifted in and out of a cloudy mist. Voices spoke and then disappeared. Sometimes Ada was there. When she was there, he reached out to touch her. But he could never accomplish his goal. A sharp pain would stab through his middle, and he would gasp at the searing sensation that tore through his body.

  Sometimes Laura was there. He would try to smile at her, because she looked so scared. He would try to say, Hello, my little chickadee, or How’s my sunshine gal? The words were nothing but a dry rasp emanating from his throat. That seemed to terrify her more, so he would lapse into silence, allowing the fog to swallow him once more.

  He was drifting. It was pleasant, but he missed his family. He missed work. A good day was a day filled with hard physical labor and the presence of Laura and Ada at supper that night.

  He recalled that Ada was with him on top of a hill that night. She was holding him so he wouldn’t fall. The strength from her body flowed through him. She asked him if he would ever have faith again. He looked into her dark blue eyes, eyes the color of the bluebonnets that dotted the pastures in the spring. He said that with her help, he would try anything.

  Then he was walking home. Something wasn’t right. Something was following him. Whatever it was, it was strong and had no mercy. If only Jack could run quickly enough, he would be saved. So he sprinted for the gate, but he was too late.

  Asesino.

  Jack sat up suddenly, and the stabbing pain tore through his body so severely that he groaned. His torso was stiff, and he felt as if something was holding him in place.

  “It sounds like our patient is awake.”

  Jack turned to see who that voice came from. The fog was rising, and he could just make out the familiar figure of a man. “Doc Rydell,” he croaked.

  “Yes, he is definitely awake and with us.” Doc Rydell chuckled. “Mrs. Burnett, maybe you’d like to move to where your husband can see you. You are a sight prettier than I am, and he’s been drifting in and out of consciousness for too long.”

  “How do you feel?” Ada drifted into view. She was just as pretty as ever, but she looked tired and drawn. He wondered what had happened to make her look so exhausted. Was Laura misbehaving?

  He grimaced. The doctor laughed. “Don’t ask a question like that of a man who has two cracked ribs,” he admonished. “At least neither of your lungs was punctured, Jack. But you do have a sprained ankle and a few bad cuts on your hand. A man of your age and experience should know better than to take on a bull like Asesino by himself.”

  Now he remembered. Asesino had charged because he couldn’t move fast enough to the gate. He had fallen, and there were stars in the sky.

  “Ada.”

  “Yes, Jack.” She moved to sit beside him, pulling a chair close to his bed.

  “Is everything…okay?” Speaking was so difficult. He ran his tongue over his lips, but everything still felt parched.

  “Yes, Jack. Everything and everyone in this house is doing very well, except for you.” She gave him a sweet smile. Seeing her smile made him relax. “Laura has had a splendid few days in school, and I have been working to keep everything running smoothly without you.”

  He nodded, wincing at the pain even that small movement caused. “Good.”

  “Jack, you are going to be laid up a while,” Doc Rydell interrupted. “The only thing I can do for broken ribs and a sprained ankle is to prescribe bed rest. I’ve got your bones set so they can knit back together. You need to allow your body time to h
eal before going back out on the range. Mrs. Burnett,” he added, turning to Ada, “I am holding you responsible for him, as well.”

  Ada gave a weak smile. “I’m not sure he will listen to me. Jack loves to work.”

  “I’ll be good,” Jack rasped. He didn’t want to cause any more trouble. “Promise, Ada.”

  She smiled again. “I promise, too.”

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, Ada pulled her riding habit out of her wardrobe. With Cathy’s help, she would get dressed and be downstairs before the sun rose. If Jack was going to be laid up for weeks, he would begin to worry about how the ranch was faring. She knew as much about ranching as she did about running a house, but she had to at least try to help. Perhaps, if she were able to give a daily report to him about the ranch, Jack would stay still long enough to heal.

  Her bedroom door burst open, and Laura danced into the room. “Cathy says I may walk to school today. Is that true? May I?” Her blue eyes sparkled.

  “If you feel you can do so without getting lost or injured.” Ada began to dress. “We are all going to have to be more independent and take on additional chores while your father recuperates. How do you feel about it? Is it something you wish to take on?” Of course, her stepdaughter was fairly quivering with excitement, so the answer was obvious. Even so, she had to make certain.

  “Yes, indeed. I’m the only one in school who is dropped off and picked up in a carriage,” Laura mused. “The boys have started calling me Miss Fancy Lady. I don’t like it.”

  “Very well, then. You may walk to and from school.” Ada had gotten as far as she could without Cathy to help, so she grabbed her riding boots from the wardrobe.

  “Are you going out riding today?” Laura cocked her head to one side. “That’s a lovely habit. I haven’t seen anything that stylish since we left St. Louis.”