Christmas at Saddle Creek

by Shelley Peterson

  Bird? Are you in there? What’s taking so long? Her horse stretched his neck and pushed the blanket over the door with his nose, causing it to come away from one of the nails.

  Sunny! I was just coming to get you.

  Can we go home? I want to go back to my stall.

  Yes, we can, but we’re taking Mrs. Pierson with us.

  That’s crazy. She’s too old to learn to ride.

  We’re going to pull her in a sled.

  We’re going to pull her? Or I’m going to pull her?

  You’re going to pull her.

  What’s in it for me?

  You go home to your stall.

  Done.

  First, I need to find a sled.

  What’s that?

  A flat piece of wood that people slide down hills on.

  Hey! There’s one in the shed, where I’ve been waiting forever and ever.

  Great! Are there ropes in there, too?

  There are metal ropes.

  Chains? I’ll go look.

  Bird took another look at Mrs. Pierson. A large bruise was forming on the bump that was growing on her forehead. Bird noted how transparent skin gets as people age, and she worried again about a concussion. She hurried outside with the flashlight.

  She was relieved to find that the wind had died down, which made the night feel warmer, and the icy rain had stopped. Thankfully, the moon was beginning to show through the cloud cover. With much better visibility, things boded well for the trip back to Saddle Creek. At least there was some good news in the pile of bad.

  Bird followed Sunny to the shed beside the house. A fresh pile of manure indicated where her horse had sheltered.

  Just as Sunny had said, an old wooden toboggan was hanging on the far wall. The front was curled up so it could slide through snow, and the end had a back support so kids wouldn’t fall off. There were green cushions nailed on, and it was long enough for several children to go for a ride down a hill. Long enough to pull Mrs. Pierson to Saddle Creek. It looked homemade. Bird felt sure that Mr. Pierson had built it, and he’d be glad for it to be used to get his wife to safety. Mrs. Pierson had been the treasure of his life.

  She lifted it off the wall and set it on the ground.

  The chains that Sunny had mentioned were meant to pull trucks out of ditches and far too heavy for this job. She shone the light over the walls and along the shelves. Just when she was about to concede defeat, she noticed a blue plastic container behind some water barrels. She lifted the lid to find coils of rope covered with grease, probably from some machine. They would do perfectly.

  Bird threw the ropes on the sled and pulled it over the branches and into the kitchen. After briefly thinking about the best way Mrs. Pierson should travel, she decided that feet first might be easier. She took some cushions off the couch and laid them on the sled. She put two throw pillows at the back for Mrs. Pierson’s head and neck, and a third pillow at the front for the swollen ankle to be raised.

  Now she uncoiled the soiled ropes and figured out how to fit them on Sundancer so he could pull the sled. With kitchen shears from a drawer, she cut a length to be used around his rib cage, just behind his front legs. She cut another to hang around his neck, and another to form loops to run the rope through, which would attach to the sled.

  Mrs. Pierson groaned. Bird glanced at her and noticed that her skin had turned almost blue. There was no time to waste. Bird ducked under the hanging blanket and, once outside, fastened the ropes onto Sunny like a harness.

  These ropes stink.

  They’re the only ones we have. And they’re on top of your blanket so they mostly don’t touch you.

  The horse snorted and pawed the ground. Hurry up, then.

  She fed another, longer rope through the loop on his left side, across his chest, supported by the loose rope around his neck so it wouldn’t slip down over his front legs, and back again through the loop on his right. Both ends of that rope would fasten the sled to the horse. She studied her work and was satisfied.

  This rope on my chest? It’s going to rub the fur right off my shoulders.

  Through your blanket?

  Yes, through my blanket. Too much pressure on one spot.

  If you insist. Bird dashed back to the kitchen and grabbed two dishtowels. She wrapped them around the sections of rope that came into contact with the gelding’s shoulders. Better?

  Maybe.

  Okay, I’m going to get Mrs. Pierson on the sled. Don’t move, or these ropes will get all tangled up in your legs.

  This is not how I imagined spending Christmas.

  Dream of all the bran mash you can eat.

  Promise?

  Promise. I couldn’t do this without you. She patted her horse’s nose. Really.

  Sunny put his head against her chest. He was pleased.

  Bird ducked back under the blanket over the door, into the kitchen. She pulled the sled as close to the woman as she could get. “Mrs. Pierson, can you help me?”

  The old woman opened one eye and blinked. She coughed again and began to shiver. “Bird? What are you doing here? Where am I?”

  “You’re lying on your kitchen floor, and you’ve been hurt. We have to get to Saddle Creek. You’ll freeze if you stay here. Your ankle is swollen, and you might have bonked your head.”

  “I did, dear. I did bonk my head. It hurts,” she said weakly.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, dear.”

  Bird was touched that, even in pain, Mrs. Pierson was considerate of her feelings. “Can you slide your body over a little, onto the sled?”

  “I’m very cold, dear. Can you bring me another blanket?”

  “Yes, I’ll wrap you right up.” Bird ran to the hall closet, and she found a long, down-filled red coat, a padded hat with earflaps, big plaid mittens, and some old fleece-lined boots that had belonged to Mr. Pierson. Mrs. Pierson hadn’t had the heart to throw his stuff out, thought Bird. And a good thing, too.

  Mrs. Pierson was as helpful as possible as Bird dressed her. She tried not to whimper when the big boot was pulled over her ankle, but cried out in pain when Bird began to move her onto the sled.

  “Ooooh. Sorry, dear! Owwww. Oh, sorry. Ahhhhhh!”

  “You’re doing great, Mrs. Pierson. Just a couple more inches, and you’re on. Great! Good work!”

  “Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!”

  “You did it!”

  Mrs. Pierson was now on the sled. Bird poured the last of the water from her glass into a thermos and put it at her feet, along with the flashlight, and then checked the cushions to make sure that her precious patient would be as comfortable as possible.

  Bird saw a problem. Mrs. Pierson could roll off. Not good. She cut a long length of rope and wound it tightly twice around the entire circumference of the sled. She used the curl on the front and the backrest on the rear to secure it, successfully fashioning a railing made of rope. It would have to do.

  Ah, Bird?

  I didn’t forget you, Sunny. We’re ready to go. Can you back up to the porch?

  Righto.

  He backed up as close as he could get, straddling the thick branch of the fallen tree.

  Bird pulled down the grey army blanket that had been covering the door, and she carefully wrapped it around Mrs. Pierson. She took the ropes that she’d threaded through Sunny’s makeshift harness and tied them through the front curl of the sled, then double-­knotted them on the ropes that formed the railing.

  Let’s go home, Sunny.

  Music to my ears.

  3

  Cody

  Sire, the night is darker now,

  And the wind blows stronger.

  Fails my heart, I know not how.

  I can go no longer.

  Bird asked Sunny to inch ahead slowly until t
he sled had been pulled out of the house and through the shattered porch. The giant branch of the aspen lay across the two steps to the ground. To minimize the jolt, Bird held up the end of the sled and lifted it over. It was very heavy but she managed, just.

  She walked beside the sled as they moved across the yard, toward the road. Mrs. Pierson hadn’t moved.

  Too slow. Sunny was impatient. We’ll never get home.

  I know, but the smoother, the better for Mrs. Pierson.

  I can do smooth. Sunny picked up his pace very slightly.

  Mrs. Pierson cried out each time they went over a bump, and with all the branches scattered around, there were many. Bird lifted the end of the sled as much as she could, trying to soften the impact. She flinched every time the woman moaned, in sympathy with her pain.

  Bird began to second-guess her decision. Are we doing the right thing, Sunny?

  How am I to know? I’m a horse.

  You said you’re smarter than me.

  I was joking.

  Should we wait for an ambulance to come?

  How long?

  I don’t know. It might be several hours.

  Then cut these ropes and let me go. I know the way.

  Bird hated putting Mrs. Pierson through the rough ride, but an ambulance would be bumpy, too, and Mrs. Pierson couldn’t wait much longer to get help. She was finished second-guessing. Let’s go home the way we came, Sunny.

  There’s no other way.

  Keep an eye out for Cody.

  I’ve been looking for him all night.

  Bird and Sundancer crossed the ice-covered road very carefully. To keep from slipping, Sunny needed to walk over the leaves and sticks, but even the slightest variance on the surface caused Laura Pierson to whimper.

  Bird solved the problem by pulling the sled over the icy part of the road herself. She stepped between the horse and the sled, took the ropes in her hands, and moved over to the right. Sunny and Bird walked parallel to each other, allowing the sled to travel over the ice, and Sunny on the path of debris. It was much better, but far from perfect.

  Their tension dissipated slightly once they reached the other side of the road and were on to firmer footing.

  The moon was lighting up their way, the wind had abated, and the temperature was moderating. Bird counted their blessings. Still, pulling the sled with an elderly, injured person on board made the journey ­difficult and stressful, and within half an hour they both needed to stop.

  Laura Pierson had stopped making noises fifteen minutes earlier. Bird checked to be sure she was alive, and she was happy to hear a feeble cough. She brought the thermos to her lips and tried to get her to drink. Mrs. Pierson took only a sip.

  The big chestnut gelding stood with his head down. He was breathing heavily. Bird patted his neck. You’re doing great. We’ll be home soon and can get some rest.

  I’ve ceased caring. I’ll die out here.

  Sunny! Don’t make jokes like that.

  I’m not joking.

  Suddenly, the horse lifted his head. His upper lip flipped up, over his nostrils.

  What is it? asked Bird.

  It’s Cody.

  Where?

  Very close.

  But where? Why can you hear him and not me?

  I smell him. The wind keeps changing, but he’s somewhere over there. Sundancer motioned slightly to the left and ahead of them with his nose.

  In the woods, off the path?

  Yes.

  You stay here with the sled, and I’ll go look.

  Bird took the flashlight from the toboggan and headed off in the direction Sunny had indicated. She shone the light under each bush and behind every rock. Cody? she transmitted. Cody? Where are you? Please, please stay alive until I find you!

  Tears rolled down her face as she searched. She didn’t want to give up, but Mrs. Pierson needed help. Bird made the decision to circle back to the sled. She hoped the coyote would turn up by the time she got back.

  He hadn’t.

  Sunny, I can’t find him. Can you still smell him?

  Yes. He’s close by. Try over there. The big gelding looked ahead and to his right this time.

  Okay.

  Bird shone the light on the right side of the path and kept walking. Sunny was moving along with her, in the direction of home. Cody! Cody, where are you?

  Nothing came back to her. No sound at all, either by vocal cords or telepathic transmission. She closed her eyes and imagined the small coyote. A sudden ­emotional tug caused her to move a bit farther into the brush. She opened her eyes.

  There. Pinned under a fallen branch. Was that a large lump of dirt or a mossy rock? It was the same size as the small coyote and coated with sleet.

  Bird edged closer, ducking under cedars and shrubs, until she crouched beside it. She shone the light right at it. It was furry. It was an animal, for sure. And it looked dead.

  Slowly she reached out a gloved hand and brushed the ice off the creature.

  It reacted. Bird jumped back. It was alive, but what was it?

  Very faintly, she got a transmission. Bird girl.

  Cody! It’s you!

  Goodbye, Bird girl.

  No! It’s not time!

  The other world is calling. I’m going to the western sky.

  No, Cody, I’m taking you home with me.

  With a great effort, Bird pushed the broken bough aside. She scooped him up as gently as she could. Don’t be upset with me, Cody. I can’t leave you here.

  She protected him from the stinging branches with their hanging loads of ice and snow. She carried him close to her chest, intermittently walking backward and sideways and on her knees until they were back onto the path.

  Sunny was there, waiting for them.

  Cody’s alive but barely. He was hit with a falling branch.

  Bird lifted the blankets from Mrs. Pierson’s legs and placed the coyote beside her.

  Here, you’ll stay warm, Cody, and you’ll keep Mrs. Pierson warm, too. She’s hurt and sick like you. She covered him up and tucked the blanket under the cushion so Cody wouldn’t roll off.

  The moon had now fully emerged from the clouds, and they were able to move on more quickly. Mrs. Pierson remained silent, and Cody didn’t move. Many times, Bird almost stopped Sunny so she could check on them, but it was more important to keep going. There was nothing she could do for them, anyway.

  By the time Sunny and Bird made their way through the gate at the far end of the Saddle Creek field, it was four o’clock in the morning. Finally, they’d returned with their precious load.

  As they passed the barn, Bird asked, Do you want me to untie you here? I can pull the sled to the house. It’s downhill.

  No. I’ve come this far. I’m going all the way.

  You are the best horse in the world.

  Don’t forget that.

  Bird chuckled. She suddenly felt like laughing out loud, she was so happy to be home.

  Keep it together, Bird.

  You’re right. We’re so close I want to rush.

  Together, they made their way to the front of the farmhouse and came to a stop. Bird threw a snowball at the window of Aunt Hannah’s bedroom. Her aim was good.

  Almost immediately, the upstairs window opened. Hannah stuck her head out the window.

  “Bird? What the heck? What’s going on?”

  “We need help. Mrs. Pierson and Cody are both hurt. They’re on the sled!”

  Hannah looked astonished. She was about to say something but changed her mind and closed her mouth. The window slammed shut. In less than a minute, Hannah and Paul were outside.

  As a veterinarian, Paul was accustomed to ­emergencies, and he immediately went into action mode, checking the injured woman and coyote before moving them.

 
Efficiently, Hannah prepared the couch. She held the door while Paul carried Mrs. Pierson into the house, utterly limp and emitting not a sound. Paul’s mouth was drawn tightly, and he appeared very concerned.

  Once Mrs. Pierson was safely inside, Bird lifted Cody out of the sled. She gingerly moved him to the kitchen.

  Lucky wagged his tail. He can have my bed! My bed!

  Thank you, Lucky. You’re such a good dog. She placed Cody as gently as possible on Lucky’s bed. He whimpered softly, which she took as a good sign. Lucky sat beside him, pleased to be of service. Bird smiled sleepily and patted his head.

  “I’m going to put Sunny to bed now,” she said. She could barely keep her eyes open. “Is there anything I can do for Mrs. Pierson? Or Cody?”

  “Nothing, Bird. Leave them both to us. You go.”

  “I’ll give Sunny a bran mash if he’ll eat it.”

  Hannah nodded. “And put a dry blanket on him. Go, Bird. Get that good horse whatever he wants. I can’t believe what you two have done tonight. We want to hear the whole story.”

  Bird’s heart swelled with gratitude for her aunt’s words of praise, and she felt hot tears on her cheeks. Now that the job was done, she felt all the energy drain from her body. She dragged herself outside again carrying a big pair of scissors.

  Sunny, I’m going to cut these ropes off you, and you’re going to bed.

  I’ve never heard more beautiful words.

  Bird had to muscle the scissors to cut away the rope harness, but soon Sunny was released. They left the toboggan and the bits of rope on the ground where they fell, and she and her horse trudged up the lane to the stable, side by side.

  Do you want a mash tonight?

  Too tired. Tomorrow, though, an extra big one.

  Done.

  Bird pulled off his wet blanket and hung it up on a hook to dry. She gave him two large flakes of hay, filled his water, and found some mints for him in the tack room. She took a clean towel and rubbed his coat from head to hoof, covered him with a clean stable blanket, and buckled it up.

  The other horses were very curious about what had happened. Bird briefly explained: Cody told us the Good Lady needed help. We brought her home with us. Cody had an accident so he’s in the farmhouse, too, and Dr. Paul is fixing him up.