In the Paths of Righteousness (Psalm 23 Mysteries)

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In the Paths of Righteousness (Psalm 23 Mysteries) Page 4

by Debbie Viguié


  She had almost reached him when her horse suddenly jumped to the side and made a screaming sound. A moment later Petite was rearing and Cindy’s heart stopped as she tried to hold on for dear life. She thought for a moment the horse would fall over backward, crushing her underneath.

  Petite plunged back to the ground and Cindy felt like she was falling sideways. She could see Kyle reaching for her horse’s reins. He snatched at them but missed. Her horse bolted, running down the valley. She yanked back on the reins but it did nothing and then a moment later she realized she really was falling sideways.

  She shrieked in terror as the saddle slid sideways and she went hurtling toward the ground.

  4

  Horrified, Jeremiah realized he couldn’t stop Cindy from falling. All he could do was try his best to control it. Her saddle had slipped onto her horse’s side and even as he was watching it came loose completely.

  He stretched forward, pushing his own body out of his saddle as he did so. Thankfully his horse didn’t shy, but continued to run the course Jeremiah had set for him. He snatched at the back of Cindy’s shirt, snagging the collar with two fingers. He yanked as hard as he could, pulling her away from her horse’s pounding hooves before he lost his hold and she fell onto the ground.

  She fell hard, but at least it was on her side and not her head and it was away from her runaway mount who was already being run down by one of the cowboys.

  Jeremiah reseated himself as he pulled his horse to a halt. As the animal stopped he jumped from the saddle and raced to Cindy’s side, praying she was alright.

  His heart stopped for a moment when she didn’t move.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as he dropped next to her. The saddle was still half between her knees. The foot that was on top was out of the stirrup and he carefully began to move the saddle. She groaned and her eyes flickered.

  “Help here!” Jeremiah bellowed at the top of his lungs.

  One of the younger members of the crew came racing up a few seconds later, face ashen. Before he could say anything Jeremiah barked instructions. “Hold this saddle just like this while I check on her other foot and see if it’s stuck in the stirrup.”

  The man nodded and grasped the heavy saddle, doing his best to hold it steady despite the fact that his hands were shaking. Jeremiah carefully lowered himself down on the ground and lifted the saddle just enough so that he could see that her foot was indeed still caught in the stirrup.

  “This will hurt,” he told her.

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod understanding.

  “Lift it a little, slowly, carefully,” he instructed the other man who did as he was told.

  “There, stop.”

  Jeremiah was able to reach in and pull the stirrup off of Cindy’s foot, trying to keep from moving her foot as much as possible. When it was clear he nodded and the guy pulled the saddle away as Jeremiah lowered her foot onto the ground.

  Immediately she began to try and sit up which relieved him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the girth strap of the saddle swinging free. Something didn’t look quite right to him.

  “Just a second,” he muttered to Cindy, hating to leave her side, but needing to take a quick look at the saddle before someone else did.

  Cindy managed to make it to a sitting position just as Kyle came jogging up. He looked her over once and she could tell that he seemed relieved.

  “You know what you do when you fall off a horse? You get right back on,” Kyle said.

  Cindy was sure that she was going to murder him in his sleep. Still, she accepted his hand up. She tried to stand, but fell back down onto the ground, nearly pulling him down with her.

  “What’s wrong?” Jeremiah asked, suddenly back by her side.

  “My ankle hurts,” Cindy admitted. “It didn’t want to take my weight.”

  Kyle frowned. “I’ll get the medic,” he said.

  He strode off quickly.

  Cindy hadn’t known they had a medic with them, and she was intensely grateful to hear that a medical professional would be able to check out her ankle.

  Jeremiah knelt down next to her and carefully felt her ankle. She winced, and bit her lip.

  “It doesn’t feel broken,” he said. “You probably just have a sprain.”

  “I hope so,” she told him.

  A few seconds later Kyle returned with one of the cowboys who dropped down next to her. She raised an eyebrow.

  “Cindy this is Zack Matthews. Matthews, this is my sister, Cindy. She seems to have hurt her ankle.”

  “That was a nasty tumble you took,” Zack said.

  “You saw that?”

  “Everyone saw that. You rode that horse like a champ, though.”

  “What made Petite freak out like that?” Cindy asked, trying not to wince as Zack prodded her left ankle.

  “Turns out it was a snake, right there in the grass. They’re not that common around here, but not unheard of,” Kyle said with a frown. “She freaked, bolted, and then apparently the leather saddle strap was rotting and it just snapped. It was kind of like the perfect storm of accidents, really.”

  “From where I’m sitting there was nothing ‘perfect’ about it,” Cindy said with a sigh.

  She turned her attention back to the cowboy. “So, you’re a medic?” she asked. “I thought you were a cowboy.”

  “I was raised on a ranch in northern California just outside of Amnesty. Went to school, became a doctor. Served two tours in Afghanistan and decided that I’d rather be a cowboy. Does this hurt?”

  “Yes,” she said, wincing.

  “On a scale of one to ten?”

  “Six.”

  He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. Meanwhile she noticed that Jeremiah was frowning and staring at Kyle.

  “The saddle strap broke?”

  “Yeah, that’s what it looks like,” Kyle said. “So, how is she, Doc?”

  “She’ll be fine. She just needs a chance to heal up. It’s a sprain. All things considered it’s not nearly as bad as I would have thought. I reckon she’s got you to thank for that,” he said, turning to look at Jeremiah.

  “We both got lucky,” Jeremiah said shortly.

  “What now?” Cindy asked no one in particular.

  “Now, we get that foot elevated,” Zack said.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me to get right back up on the horse?” she asked, realizing she was making a dig at her brother.

  “Not with a sprained ankle. You’ll just make it worse. No, you and Petite had a scare, you both deserve to rest. You can ride on the chuck wagon with Cookie and we’ll tie Petite up behind so she can just walk along nice and slow.”

  Cindy was relieved beyond words. She didn’t relish the thought of trying to get back on the horse, particularly with the way she felt.

  Zack continued. “We’ll go over, get you all set up with a pillow, some ice, and some painkillers. The good stuff. How does that sound?”

  “At the moment, like as close to heaven as I’m going to get today,” she said.

  A dark cloud seemed to pass momentarily over Jeremiah’s face. She wondered if her choice of words had been poor. Maybe she’d been in even more danger than she had thought. It wasn’t good to dwell on that, though.

  Mark was worried. It could have easily been Traci that had gotten hurt. Granted, his wife had a lot more experience with horses than he or Cindy. In fact, she probably could have brought the horse under control more quickly after the snake spooked it. Maybe she would have been able to figure out sooner that there was something wrong with the saddle, too. Still, that was a lot of “ifs” and “maybes” when it came to his wife’s safety. To all of their safety for that matter.

  This whole trip was starting to feel cursed and it was setting him on edge. As he was directed to take up position at the left side of the herd of cattle he couldn’t help but wonder just how ineffectual he would be at keeping them in line, and whether or not anyone might get hurt because of th
at.

  Fortunately, Traci had been assigned to the same general area as he was so he could keep an eye on her.

  More like she can keep an eye on me, he realized as he uncomfortably moved his horse into a trot. He hated the pressure that the helmet was putting on his head, but he was also grateful for the protection. He figured it was only a matter of time before he got bucked off or thrown or just managed to lose his balance and he landed on his head.

  Traci turned and gave him a radiant smile and he forced himself to smile back at her. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe they had just gotten all the trauma and drama out of the way and things would be smooth going from here on and out.

  He heard a lot of loud calls and yip sounds and the herd of cattle began to slowly move down the valley. Ahead of him he saw one cow break ranks and watched in admiration as Traci moved to intercept it and turn it back.

  After about ten minutes Kyle rode up beside him, startling him. It was all Mark could do not to cuss him out, reminding himself of the cameras on all their helmets.

  “Everything going okay over here?” Kyle asked.

  Mark nodded, still mindful of the camera. “Just where are we taking this herd?” he asked.

  “To its winter pasture, a few days drive from here. Nearest town out there is Righteousness. That’s where we’ll end up and the trucks will take us home.”

  “Weird name for a town,” Mark commented.

  Kyle shrugged. “Settled by a bunch of religious folk about a hundred and fifty years ago. Still, I reckon I’ve heard stranger names.”

  Mark forced himself not to sneer when Kyle said “folk” and again when he said “reckon”. The way he was speaking, he was clearly trying to sound western, like he was an old time cowboy himself. The affectation bothered Mark a bit. He tried to tell himself he needed to be more charitable, though. Kyle was an actor, after all, even if he did call himself an adventure guide or a travel host instead. The truth was, all the guys on camera at the Escape! Channel were actors first and foremost, whether they liked to admit it or not. It was their job to be entertaining and put on a bit of a show.

  That, of course, led him to wonder how much of Kyle’s on camera daring exploits weren’t half so daring as they appeared. He couldn’t help but think about Jeremiah saving that whole group of kids at the camp after they were attacked by assassins. How would Kyle have fared in a real life-and-death situation like that?

  Of course, just thinking about that inevitably raised yet again the specter of his dead partner who had died trying to reach Jeremiah. Paul was the one mystery he couldn’t let go of. He just hoped it wasn’t also the one mystery that he could never solve.

  Riding on the chuck wagon was turning out to be not only far more comfortable than riding on the horse but also far more entertaining. Chef Brent Joelson was turning out to be a fascinating conversationalist. Plus, he was giving her the inside scoop on all the inside details of the channel that her brother worked for. Some of his stories were so outrageous she had a hard time believing they were actually true.

  He had just finished telling her how Bunni Sinclair had broken her leg in Guam and she felt terrible laughing so hard at someone else’s misfortune. She couldn’t help it, though. The story was so improbable and his telling of it so dramatic that she laughed until tears were streaming down her cheeks.

  “Yeah, she has the worst luck of anyone I’ve ever met,” Brent said at last.

  “She’s crazy to keep working there,” Cindy said when she could finally breathe again.

  “We all are. You know the host of the haunted house show?”

  “The guy who looks like Malcolm McDowell?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Doesn’t believe in ghosts at all.”

  “Seriously? I thought I heard somewhere that he’d been communing with them his whole life.”

  “That’s the hype, but it turns out he’s a total skeptic. He finds the investigations completely boring but when the cameras are on he dutifully screams like a little girl.”

  Cindy found herself doubled over with laughter. “That’s hilarious!”

  “I know. I never miss one of his shows. And I never let him forget that he screams like a six year old with pigtails.”

  “Why does he do it?”

  “It’s a long story. I happen to know, though, that he’d like to host a much different show.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Host a food show. He’s a total foodie. A real gourmet.”

  “Which is why he doesn’t kill you for teasing him.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ve never seen a food show on the channel,” she admitted.

  “There are only two. Mine which, of course, is marvelous.”

  “Of course,” Cindy said, not bothering to hide her grin.

  “And the other one.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes. “The host, Janine Jefferson, is a junk food junkie. It breaks Malcolm’s heart to watch her every time. If he was ever going to throttle someone at the network, it would be her.”

  “I’m surprised he doesn’t,” Cindy said.

  “Ah, but I have a theory about that. I think he has feelings for her.”

  “So, he’s not conflicted, not at all,” she said sarcastically.

  “That’s us, one big dysfunctional family. We’re the misfits, rejects and psychopaths of the travel industry.”

  “So, which one are you?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  “Misfit. Definitely misfit.”

  “I wonder what Kyle is?” she mused.

  He chuckled. “My dear he is definitely one of the psychopaths. One of these days he’s going to get himself killed.”

  She blanched. It was bad enough that she thought that, but to hear it said by one of his colleagues just freaked her out that much more.

  Brent glanced at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No, it’s okay,” she said hastily, not wanting to spoil the fun they were having.

  “He’s got a good team of people working with him. They make sure he stays safe. Plus, a lot of the things look a lot more dangerous on television than they actually are.”

  She couldn’t help but think about her own recent accident. How would that look on television? Would it look worse than it had been? Living through it had been bad enough, she wasn’t sure she’d want to watch it when it did air on television.

  “I still can’t believe I let him talk me into this,” she said out loud.

  “He’s got a gift for that,” Brent admitted.

  Lunch arrived and it consisted of sandwiches that people could eat in their saddles if they chose to. After distributing them along with more bottled water Brent settled back down on the seat next to Cindy.

  “It’s a concession,” he admitted. “I didn’t see most of this crew faring too well with some kind of beef jerky.”

  “I know that I, for one, am thrilled to have the roast beef,” she said.

  “Me, too. Dollars to donuts, though, that this never makes it onto television. People will think I starved everyone until dinner. Everything around here is ninety percent perception and ten percent reality.” He actually sounded a little bitter as he said the last.

  Cindy resisted the urge to pat him on the shoulder. “Well, at least I know the truth. And the truth is, this is an amazing sandwich.”

  When they finally stopped for the night Mark practically fell off his horse. He was sore in muscles he never knew he had and his backside wasn’t about to forgive him anytime soon. He did his best not to think about the fact that he’d have to do it all over again the next day even as he tried to stay upright on legs that were suddenly incredibly wobbly.

  “Takes a while to get used to for a city slicker like you,” one of the cowboys noted with thinly veiled sarcasm.

  Mark noticed that the cowboy was carrying a gun. That was good. Mark was, too, and this way if he shot the ma
n he could claim some sort of self-defense.

  He walked over to Traci as she dismounted from her horse and he was gratified to see that her legs looked a little wobbly, too.

  “I’ve never been in the saddle that long at one stretch,” she admitted with a laugh as she reached out and grabbed onto his shoulder.

  She was laughing which meant she was having a good time. That made him feel a bit better. Then he saw Jeremiah walking toward them, no signs of wobbly legs at all. Mark hated him in that moment. He also couldn’t help but wonder if the rabbi had spent more time on horseback than he’d led the rest of them to believe.

  “You grow up on a ranch?” Mark asked him.

  “No.”

  That was it, just the one word. He was actually surprised he’d gotten that much out of him. Jeremiah didn’t talk about his past. Mark knew nothing about him from before he had become a rabbi in Pine Springs. It was only out of respect that he hadn’t gone digging. Plus, he wasn’t sure he’d like what he found.

  Together the three of them walked over to the chuck wagon where everyone seemed to be congregating. The chef was already in the back, hard at work on dinner. At least, that’s what Mark hoped was happening.

  “You okay?” Jeremiah asked Cindy, the worry in his voice clear.

  “Yes. Glad to have stopped bouncing around. It was starting to get wearing,” she admitted.

  Mark kept a snarky comment to himself. Given what had happened to her earlier he wouldn’t want to trade places with her even if riding on the wagon sounded a whole lot better than riding on a horse.

  Dinner was not nearly as festive an affair as it should have been. Given the things that had happened and the pure exhaustion he knew he personally was feeling Mark wasn’t surprised. Kyle, though, kept going around making jokes trying to get people to lighten up. Even he finally gave up after a while, though, and suggested that maybe it was a good idea if everyone turned in early and got some sleep. It was the most sense he’d made all day.

  They laid out their sleeping bags all close together. The real cowboys were going to take turns watching the herd that night, although Kyle made it clear that starting the following night everyone was going to get a chance to pull night duty.

 

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