Come Hell or High Water

by Nancy M Bell

  “Was that Michelle?”

  She quickened her steps, suddenly only wanting to run as far away as she could. Michelle stepped up into the cab and pretended not to see Cale coming out of the clinic and down the walk toward her. Slipping the truck into gear, she pulled away. Once on the hard top and headed to Pat’s, she allowed herself the luxury of wiping away the tears from her face.

  “That was stupid,” she chastised herself. “What the hell is wrong with me? I want to see him and then when he shows up I panic and run. Damn, damn, damn.” She blinked in surprise when the Wilson Ranch sign appeared on her right. Shit, how did I get here so fast? The angels must have been driving ‘cause I don’t remember anything after leaving Doc’s. Continuing on past the place where she grew up, she geared down for steep incline where the road dipped into the coulee and then climbed out again. The road ended at Cale’s and she drove under the overhanging sign that proclaimed that this was the Chetwynd Ranch. Gritting her teeth, Michelle wished for the thousandth time Cale would get around to changing the damn thing. But then again, maybe it wasn’t any of her business anymore. She glanced across the coulee where the familiar house and outbuildings squatted on the edge. She could always go home, it was still half hers. Pride made her reject that idea as soon as it surfaced. Maybe, just maybe, if Stacey was gone…and if George quit acting like king shit every time he came home. Fuck, I’d have to be pretty desperate.

  The sun was fully up by the time she parked by the barn. In short order she transferred her belongings from the tack room and into the compartment of the trailer especially designed for that. Saddles, feed buckets, water pails, blankets and her tack box, along with mucking out utensils filled the area. Bags of feed went into the front of the trailer along with as many hay bales as would fit. The dividing gate of the three horse angle haul shut with a metallic clang. Michelle dusted off her hands and debated on whether to load the horses now or go get her stuff from the house first.

  A gust of wind snatched at her coat when she stepped out of the shelter of the trailer. Crossing to the barn, she checked on Spud and Rain, they still had their heads in their grain buckets so she left them and went to the house. Storm and Crazy Puppy greeted her with enthusiasm. “C’mon, you two. I’m sure you want to go out.” She opened the door to the mudroom and let them out into the yard. Keeping an eye on them through the wide kitchen window Michelle gathered up some food and a case of water. Anything else she’d just buy as the need came up. After carting the lot out to the living quarters of the trailer and stowing them away, she whistled for the dogs. They followed her inside and she shut the mudroom door and then the inner kitchen door behind them. Storm padded along with her when Michelle ventured down the hall towards the front of the house. The door to Cale’s room stood open, she hesitated in the doorway and bit her lip. It shouldn’t hurt that much, but it did. There was something almost final about removing her clothes from his room.

  “Just get on with it,” she muttered. Everything she needed fit into the large canvas carryall she pulled from under the bed. Finished in the bedroom, Michelle hefted the bag’s straps over her shoulder and turned to leave. She paused in the door and turned back for one last look. It’s not like I’m leaving forever. We’ll work this out, somehow. I know we will. She hated the perverse nagging voice that reared its head. What about Stacey? What if he decides I’m not worth the trouble? Maybe leaving was a mistake, but how could she stick around when Cale didn’t trust her? How could he actually believe she’d encouraged Rob or invited him into the house in the first place? Love without trust isn’t love, at least that’s what Gramma used to say. “Son of a bitch!” A flash of intuition flared in her head. “Maybe that’s why I kept trusting Rob, even though my common sense said I should open my eyes. If I thought I loved him, then I had to trust him as well. What an idiot I was. Well, that’s water under the bridge now.”

  It didn’t take much time to collect her things from the bathroom. Her fingers lingered over the jar holding the toothbrushes before plucking hers out. In the doorway, Storm’s head flew up and Crazy Puppy went careening down the hall toward the kitchen. Michelle zipped it shut and slung the bag over her shoulder. It has better not be Rob whose boots were making the old floor creak, she thought grimly. Shoving the adjoining door open she followed the dogs into the room.

  “What are you doing, Michelle?” Cale’s gaze raked over the bag on her shoulder.

  “Leaving, like I told you,” she said stubbornly and made to go around him. “I don’t want to crowd you and Stacey.” She flung the words at him.

  Anger darkened his face. “It wasn’t me rolling around on the floor half dressed with my ex,” he countered. “And I’ve told you a hun—”

  “Ha! So you finally admit that the blonde bimbo is your ex.” Anger and something she couldn’t name built in her gut making it hard to breathe.

  “That’s not what I said, for God’s sake.” He paused and took a deep breath. “Can we just sit down and talk about this like two adults instead of trading insults?” Cale ran a hand through his hair.

  “What’s there to talk about? You don’t trust me. C’mon, dogs.” She stepped by him.

  He caught her arm to stop her. “You’re not seriously considering taking the dogs with you, are you?”

  “They’re mine, of course I’m taking them.”

  “Michelle, don’t be stupid. Shut up in that little trailer is no place for those two. You know that. Leave them here.”

  “They’re mine,” she repeated.

  “I’m not saying they’re not. I’m just asking you to be sensible and think of them for a minute.”

  “I have to take them with me. I’ll miss them if I don’t…they’ll miss me.”

  “You know where they are and it’s not like I’m gonna change the locks on you,” he countered. “They’re happy here, this is where they think home is.”

  Storm sat down with a thump and leaned against Cale’s leg, her eyes fixed on Michelle’s. Even Crazy Puppy sat still and gazed up at the man with adoring eyes. The dog’s outline blurred through the moisture gathering in her eyes. “I suppose you’re right,” she admitted. “I just feel like I’m abandoning them somehow.”

  “You could just stay.” Cale dipped his head and didn’t look at her.

  “I don’t know, Cale. Maybe we need to spend some time apart. We kinda jumped into this relationship pretty quick and if you actually think I’d go running back to Rob…”

  He scrubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. “What am I supposed to think when he keeps showing up wherever you are all the time? You don’t seem to be able to say no to the guy.”

  “You’re supposed to trust me. I can’t control what the jackass does or says. You’re right on one count. I’m through rescuing him when he gets himself in trouble. That’s Kayla’s job now.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, Michelle. It’s a start.” He raised his head and met her gaze. “We can’t work this out if we aren’t talking to each other. I have no problem with you stayin here.”

  “In the spare room?” She bit her lip.

  “That might be better. We need to fix the trust issue without muddling it up. Just because we’re physically attracted to each other, making love won’t make the underlying problems go away.”

  Disappointment seared through her. Being careful to keep her expression neutral Michelle considered his words. Unable to come up with a satisfactory decision she slid the bag off her shoulder and set it on a chair. “I’ll have to think on it, Cale. Rob was trying to rape me for God’s sake and all you did was tell me to get inside and cover up. Don’t you think I was upset and could have used a bit of comfort?”

  “I’m sorry, Michelle. I…”

  “Look, I’ll call you later. I’m late. I told Pat I’d be there by ten. I’ve got the arena to myself until noon if I want it.” She picked up the bag and started for the door.

  “At least leave the dogs here for the time being,” Cale suggested.r />
  “I guess that is the best thing for them,” she conceded. “I will call you later, once I’m finished at Prairie Winds.”

  Cale didn’t let go of her arm but pulled her toward him and planted a kiss on her lips. “I do love you, Michelle.” He released her.

  Somewhat bemused, she regained her composure enough to answer. “I love you too, but love isn’t what’s in question here. Trust is. I’ll call you later,” she promised again.

  Cale stepped aside and Michelle moved toward the door. She pushed it open and glanced behind her. Cale was just disappearing through the opposite door with the dogs close on his heels. She shifted the heavy carry all; maybe she should just leave it here? But then again, maybe not. The stubborn streak was strong in her and it wouldn’t let her give in to her longing to accept Cale’s overture.

  She closed the door behind her and strode across the yard. After throwing the carryall into the back seat she stepped up into the cab and started the engine. Leaving it running she went into the barn to get Spud and Rain. Haltering both horses, she led them down the aisle and into the yard. She stopped to close and latch the barn door and then continued to the back of the rig. The horses waited patiently for her to open the trailer door. Michelle threw the shank over Spud’s withers and clicked for him to go ahead and load. The gelding pushed his nose against her in search of a treat, when none was forthcoming he sighed and stepped up into the trailer. Rain stood quietly while Michelle hopped up and closed the stall divider while still holding the lead shank. She got back down and looped the shank over the mare’s withers and gave her a bit of tug before letting go. The mare obediently got in and Michelle secured the door. She went around the side and opened the hatch in front of both horses. She clipped both halters to their respective ties with a panic snap and closed the hatch again.

  In short order she was rolling out the lane and past the coulee. She spared a thought for how Stacey was managing with the chores and helping out at the clinic as well. George should be home middle of next week, that should take some of the burden off. Maybe then the woman would stop hanging around Cale at the clinic. Although, the help was a God send. Poor Harvey couldn’t fill in on a regular basis and Michelle would have to miss a few rodeos until Doc was feeling better unless she could arrange coverage.

  The traffic was light on the highway when she turned onto the hardtop. She headed south and cranked the country station on the radio. The turnoff to Pat’s was just up ahead. Michelle signaled and slowed for the turn, being careful not to put the horses off balance. Gravel growled beneath the tires and even though it was April dust swirled in the wake of her passing. We better get some moisture soon or hay is gonna be through the roof this year. There was still a chance of a good yield if the rain came at the right time. No sense worrying about something that hadn’t happened yet, as Grampa always said. There was enough to worry over already.

  Prairie Winds arena lay nestled in a small valley, the sun glinting off the metal roof when she crested the next hill.

  Michelle loved the spring time. Time to start gearing up for the season. She’d missed the indoor show at Medicine Hat, it was the coming weekend and Spud wasn’t quite up to speed yet. She could have taken Rain just for the experience, but it really wasn’t worth the gas and other fees to go with just one horse. Besides there was the High River Winter Series sanctioned by the Alberta Barrel Racing Association. She planned to run Rain in the time only section and then enter Spud in the Jackpot. He’d done well at the last one in March and she had high hopes for a top three finish next weekend.

  Pat came out of the barn at the sound of the truck tires on the gravel. She waved and waited for Michelle to pull up into the area to the side to unload. She turned off the truck and opened the door. “Hey Pat, how’s it going?”

  “Good. What’s with the text about needing a hook up for the trailer? Things not so rosy with the hunky vet?” Pat grinned at her while helping unlatch the end gate of the trailer.

  “Yeah, we had a bit of a misunderstanding,” Michelle prevaricated. “It’ll blow over. I was just pissed when I texted you and wanted to be sure I had a place to crash if I needed it.”

  “Misunderstanding? Sounded more like you and Rob were having a flashback. Can’t blame Cale for not appreciating finding you two rolling around on the floor of his kitchen.”

  “Seriously? I see the gossip grapevine is working well. Where’d you hear it from?”

  “Your ex was belly aching about it at the hotel while trying to drown his sorrows. At the top of his lungs. He shut up pretty quick when that little wife of his showed up and dragged him out by the ear. You ready to unload these guys?” Pat waited to open the gate until Michelle nodded.

  “So everybody knows. Damn Rob and his big mouth. Huh, I’ve got better things to do than worry about that right now. Let’s get these guys off and run some barrels.” She went around to the side and unhooked the trailer tie through the side hatch. Coming back around to the end gate she unlatched the divider and let Rain come off, grabbing the lead shank from her withers as the horse went past. Pat took the mare and tied her to the side of the trailer while Michelle opened the divider and unhook Spud’s tie. With her hand on his shoulder she guided him off the trailer and tied him alongside Rain.

  “I’m gonna tack up here, save dragging everything into the barn.” She busied herself with brushes and hoof pick. “I’ll meet you in the arena in fifteen minutes or so.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll go get Caramel tacked up. She’s full of beans this morning.” Pat grinned and headed to the barn.

  Michelle groomed and tacked the horses in short order and stowed the equipment in the trailer. Leaving Spud tied to the trailer with a blanket over him, she brought Rain to the arena.

  “Door!” She waited a moment. There was nothing more annoying or dangerous than having someone open a door when a horse was going by it.

  “Clear!” Pat’s voice was muffled by the door.

  Michelle opened the man door which was wide enough for a horse with tack on to come through safely. It saved cranking open the large main door. She led Rain through and turned to close the door behind her. Pausing for a minute to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting in the arena, her hands automatically checked the tightness of the horse’s girth and fit of the bridle. There was no reason to expect the bridle needed adjusting, but it was just habit, something ingrained in her by Grampa. Something along the lines of the parachuting maxim of always packing your own chute. Blinking a little Michelle brought the horse off the track into the centre of the building. Pat was working Caramel at a lope on the rail. The horse went along at a relaxed pace, head low and stretching out her frame. Michelle grinned, once that mare knew it was time to turn some barrels she was a firecracker and all business. She tightened her girth a notch, slipped the reins over Rain’s head and stepped up into the saddle. The quarter horse danced sideways and snorted. She slid a hand down the sleek hide of the neck and nudged the mare into a walk. After a few circuits of the arena in both directions she picked up a trot, allowing the horse to move out and not confining her to a jog. By the time Michelle had warmed up to a lope, Pat had pulled into the centre of the arena and dismounted to check her girth before moving on to the fast work of running the cloverleaf barrel pattern. She waited until Michelle turned in and halted beside her.

  “You want to run first?” Michelle swung down from Rain and patted the mare’s neck. “I’m just gonna take is slow with this one.”

  “Sure, time me, will you?” Pat tossed her a stop watch.

  “You’re on.” Michelle led Rain to the side of the arena opposite the start line for the pattern. Pat already had the barrels set up at the regulation measurements. She envied her friend the large building and wished she had the money to build one out at the ranch.

  “Ready?” Pat turned her horse’s back to the start line and the little horse pranced and half-reared in her eagerness to run.

  “When you are.” Michelle held her f
inger over the start button on the stop watch and aligned herself with the white limed start line. The time probable wouldn’t be as accurate as using the automatic timers they employed at events but it would certainly give both women a ball park time.

  Pat whirled around and Caramel leaped forward. Michelle pressed the button as they flashed by the start. Pat ran the pattern taking the right hand barrel first which gave her two left turns on the last two barrels. The rules stated a rider could take either of the top two barrels first. Michelle preferred the left barrel first, especially with Spud. Horses tend to turn in one direction easier than the other, much like some people were right handed and some left. Caramel’s breathing echoed in the enclosed space as she ran for home. Michelle stopped the clock when the horse’s nose broke the finish/start line.

  The mare danced and snorted as Pat pulled her up. “How’d we do?”

  “Nineteen-one-four.”

  “Not as fast as I’d like.” Pat grimaced. “I missed my mark going into the first barrel and missed it again on the way to the second.” She swung down from the saddle, unclipped the rein and handed the end to Michelle. “Here, can you hold her while I put more flour on my marks?”

  “Sure.” She took the short rein and stroked Caramel’s nose. The little mare was hardly blowing at all. “She sure in great shape for this time of year,” she remarked.

  Pat came back dusting her hands free of excess flour. “Yeah, we’ve been doing a lot of hills and outside work when the footing has been good. Not a lot of moisture this spring so the trails are all clear.” She took Caramel’s rein back and the stop watch as well. “Your turn.”

  Michelle slid the rein over her horse’s neck and mounted. “I’m just gonna trot the pattern a few times and then lope it if she stays on track at the trot.” She grinned. “No need to time me.” She touched the mare with her heel and took her to the centre line of the arena, turning her back to the pattern. Once they could practice outside, she’d introduce her to coming into the outdoor arena through a wide chute at a full gallop. She’d need to be comfortable with that before Michelle took her to the outdoor events where the infield was set up for barrel racing and the horses could enter at the run through a chute.