by Reed, N. C.
“I asked your father if you were of suitable age that you could marry, and if there was any reason you could not marry. If there was any reason that I could not properly approach you in courtship with the intention of perhaps seeking your hand. It is part of a courtship ritual that is far older than this nation. I did not seek his permission; I sought his guidance. There is a marked difference.”
“And according to this ritual you were supposed to leave a horse outside my house for how long?” she demanded, not quite unkindly.
“Up to four days,” Jody replied. “If you did not care for the horse and return it, this would be a sign that you were uninterested in me as a suitor. Should the horse be returned, then the suitor would approach the father of the maiden to bargain for her bride price.”
“Bride price,” Abby’s voice was oddly calm. “So, you were going to buy me from my father? Are you seriously telling me that you would offer to buy me from my family!” the calm departed from her voice as quickly as it had arrived.
“It is not buying,” Jody shook his head. “Think of it as a reverse dowry. Rather than the young woman having money or property come with her into a marriage, this was a young man’s way to prove that he was a good provider. It was also his way of proving that he valued the maiden in question and would properly care for and protect her. An assurance to the family for her future wellbeing if you would.”
“So, we’re back to buying, then,” Abby fumed. “You went to ask my dad if I was for sale.”
“I did not ask your father if you were for sale, Abigail,” Jody replied, frustration beginning to show. “These things are done now merely as an observance of our history, to prevent the old ways from dying, and to educate the young on the way our people did things long ago. Today it is merely ceremonial rather than an actual binding ritual.”
“I still don’t see why you thought you had to speak to my dad,” she shook her head. “I’m a grown woman, Jody, not some maiden who has just come of age. I make my own decisions. My dad doesn’t make them for me. And he damn sure doesn’t set a price for me!”
“You have heard nothing I have said other than I spoke with your father,” Jody sighed, his voice sad. “You are so pigheaded that you cannot or will not see that what I have done was no more than show your father the respect he deserves and is due as the head of your household. That I have done no more than pay lip service to the culture of the one man outside my parents that even acknowledged that I existed when I was a child.” He paused long enough to take his binoculars and check the area around him, which also gave him time to think. When he lowered the binoculars, he turned to look at her.
It was obvious just looking at her that his last remarks had hit hard, and she was working herself into a tantrum. She would not listen to him, hearing only what she wanted to hear. It was as if she was looking for a reason to argue, or to be angry. Her father had mentioned that she would react this way, and Jody had thought he was prepared for it. But he had also thought that he knew her well enough by now to gauge her response to his actions. But this, this was far beyond what he had expected of her.
Clearly, he did not know her nearly so well as he had thought. The respect he had shown her family, and to her in giving that respect to her parents, hadn’t even registered on her. He may as well not have tried. More, the actions he had taken were important to him from a cultural standpoint as a tribute to his paternal grandfather. Something else she glibly ignored and cast aside rather than show the slightest respect for. He had shown her and her family the utmost respect and she was completely unwilling to return that respect to him, even symbolically.
He decided that it was time to cut his losses.
“It is obvious to me that I have made a mistake,” he said softly. “Or rather, I have actually made several mistakes. One mistake was assuming that you would be adult enough to honor the ways of my people, as I have sought to honor yours. Unfortunately, you seem quite incapable of doing so. Another mistake was to think that you would appreciate and perhaps even be flattered that I would show such respect not only to you, but to your family. Yet again, this seems to be unimportant to you, or perhaps just unappreciated. Perhaps worst of all, I have assumed that you would respond favorably to the idea that I might seek to court you honorably, in hopes of winning your hand. That, I admit, was presumptuous on my part, and I extend to you my most sincere apologies for making such an assumption. I appear to have perhaps misread or else misinterpreted our interactions, reading something into them that simply wasn’t there. Again, I can only offer my most sincere apologies for such a grievous assumption. One I had no right to make.”
“I will return to your family home and offer this apology to your parents as well, for misleading them, even if by accident. With that completed, I believe I will have done all that is possible to correct this error and lay this entire unfortunate incident to rest. Should you ask him, I believe your father will confirm for you that I did not, in fact, ask him for permission to marry you, or even to ask you to marry me. Nor to buy you,” he added. He stopped, seeing the anger on her face, and shook his head in recognition.
“There is no reason to continue this conversation,” he said finally. “You will hear only what you want or expect to hear. This is all a mistake, and I am the one who has made it. Therefore, I am the one who must correct it.” He stopped as he heard his relief coming up the stairs. He stood, opening the trap door for Mitchell Nolan to climb inside.
“Well, ain’t this cozy,” Mitchell grinned, looking from one to the other. His grin quickly faded as he realized things were not quite so cozy as he had imagined.
“Do I need to come back in a few minutes?” he asked Jody.
“Not at all,” the sniper shook his head. “We were quite finished, so your timing was excellent. I have observed nothing other than normal activity. Everything is in good order. If you see no problems, I will stand relieved.”
“Of course, man,” Mitchell replied, surprised by Jody’s forced formality, understanding it as a genuine indication that he was pissed.
“Thank you, Mitchell,” Jody nodded. “Have a good evening.” Without a backward glance or another word Jody headed down, his boots making almost no noise on the steps.
“I’m assuming you’re going as well?” Mitchell asked Abigail.
“Yes,” she stood, brushing imaginary dirt from her clothing. “Yes, I am. Good night, Mitchell.”
“Night.” It wasn’t actually nighttime, but Mitchell got the feeling that pointing that out right now would be unwise, so he let it slide.
As the trapdoor closed behind her, Abigail hurried down the steps, trying to catch Jody before he got too far. She was still angry about how this had been done, but she hadn’t meant to drive a wedge between them.
“Jody, wait a minute!” she called to his back, but he didn’t stop or even pause. Instead he took the stairs down to the ground floor without looking back.
“Jody, dammit, stop a minute!” she called again.
“I see no need or reason to,” he finally spoke, though it was over his shoulder as he continued walking. “I have matters I must see to, and I would prefer to have them done quickly to avoid unfortunate misunderstandings or future problems. It will soon be mealtime as well, so I need to hurry.”
“Jody are you seriously telling me you can’t see why I’m angry?” Abby all but shouted. “Offended, even?” He stopped short and turned very slowly to face her. Abby drew up sharply, shocked at the look on Jody’s normally placid face.
She had finally succeeded in making him angry, it seemed.
“My ways, the ways of my people, customs and traditions that are centuries old, having been passed down through countless generations, offend you,” he said slowly, his voice soft. “My attempt to honor your father and mother, something your own religious text teaches you the importance of doing, has angered and offended you. My desire to do one final thing in honor of a grandfather who was the sole member of my family other than my p
arents who even acknowledged my existence, has offended you. It would seem that most everything I do offends you. One would question why you spend time with me at all. I know that I now certainly am.
As to being angry, you are always angry at someone or something. I doubt you know any peace at all, such is your attitude and outlook. That is a sad state to exist in, Miss Sanders. A great loss, even. Perhaps when I am not angry, I would pity you that loss. For now, I will merely mark it as a fact and keep moving. I do not think it necessary for us to speak or interact anymore, unless it is over business that concerns this ranch or our survival. I will apologize once more for my presumptions, and of course,” his tone became almost caustic, “for offending your delicate sensibilities. Now, I have no desire to hear any more from you, and I also have places to be.” He turned on his heel as sharply as if he were on a parade ground and practically marched across the floor and eventually out the door of Building Two.
Leaving a stunned and speechless Abigail Sanders behind him.
The sound of an ATV outside the building galvanized her into moving, but by the time she had reached the door, the machine was nowhere in sight. By the sound, she assumed it was headed toward her family home. She started that way on foot, hoping to get there before it was too late.
-
Abigail came in sight of her house in time to see Jody offer his hand to her father, who took it, and then drew the younger man into a brief embrace. Releasing him, her father pulled back, his hand gripping Jody’s shoulders for a moment as he said one final thing. She saw Jody nod and then return to the ATV. He drew away from the house and up the hill before she could arrive, never having seen her approach.
“What was that all about?” she demanded, not quite out of breath.
“Just a private conversation between Jody and myself,” he father’s reply was clipped, showing that he was slightly upset, though not actually angry.
“You could have told me that Jody tried to buy me!” she almost shouted.
“I am fairly well convinced that there had to be a mix up at the hospital when you were born,” Robert surprised her with his answer. “There is no possible way a child of your mother’s gene pool, as smart as she is, could be as willfully ignorant as you are. That young man,” he pointed to where the ATV had disappeared from sight, “has been absolutely nothing but respectful of you, your family and your heritage. And what do you do? You trample all over his when he tries to share them with you. When he tries to be respectful to you.”
“He didn’t offer to buy you, Abby, and you even suggesting it is a grave insult so far as I am concerned. He wanted to observe as closely as possible his grandfather’s teachings, practice his cultural heritage, probably for the last time. He won’t likely see his parents or his home ever again, you know. So, he shared something that was intensely private and even intimate with you, only to have you throw it back in his face as if it were nothing.” He paused for a second to steady his breathing.
“You don’t deserve him,” he said finally, his own temper beginning to show. Without another word, Robert Sanders disappeared into his house, leaving his daughter staring after him.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Man, what will we do with all this room!” Heather Patton whirled around with her arms outstretched. She was currently moving into the new lady’s dorm, only completed two days before. They had waited for the paint to dry and the foam insulation they had been lucky to find to set in the few gaps between the board.
“Well, some of it will have to be for wood,” Gail Knight pointed at the fireplace at the end of the dorm. “You’re looking at your new central heat and air, right there.”
“Heat, anyway,” Kim Powers agreed as she trundled past them with the bulk of her gear and belongings. “The windows are framed and closed with shutters, but we may can take windows from abandoned homes to fill them in. At least screens for summer if nothing else.”
“The upstairs should be a bit airier, I’d imagine,” Carrie Jarrett noted. “There are more windows up there and the shutters have slits in them, so we can get a little wind even if it’s raining.”
“There are four attic vents on the roof, too,” Amanda Lowery was just coming down the steps from upstairs. “When there’s a breeze blowing, they will help pull hot air out of here and cool air into the windows that are open.”
“Did anyone talk to any of the soldiers?” Jena Waller asked. She was sitting on her sleeping bag, legs pulled up to her chest so she could rest her chin on her knees.
“I didn’t bother,” someone in the crowd replied.
“Me either,” another unidentified voice added.
“Four of them were women,” Kim Powers noted. “Besides that bitch lieutenant, I mean,” she added with a grimace. “That woman is something else.”
“I saw the way she was carrying on,” Janessa Haynes was nodding. “I can tell you right now, if she gets in my face like that, I will knock her teeth so far down her throat she’ll be eating through her ass.” Laughter rolled at that statement.
“That’s a good one,” Amanda hi-fived Janessa. “I’m definitely stealing that one. But I agree,” she turned more serious. “There’s no way she’s talking to me like that without one of us toting an ass whipping. No way.”
“I’m fairly certain the soldiers all hate her,” Talia Gray mentioned. She was reclined on her own bed, listening to the conversation. “They won’t speak of it much, I guess because they’d get in trouble, but it’s apparent if you just watch.”
“You think she’s going to be a problem?” Amanda asked the former constable. “She is going to command the two detachments stationed here and in Jordan.”
“If she’s smart, she’ll spend most of her time in Jordan,” Talia replied. “That bunch will tolerate a lot more than this one.”
“Might help her live longer.”
-
“Are we done?” Titus asked as he finished returning his gear to the bunkhouse, which was finally theirs again. “Please, God, tell me we’re done!”
“We’re done, I think,” Heath answered. “Looks like it’s just the five of us, though,” he mentioned. Kurtis Montana had joined them while Virgil Wilcox had elected to remain in the Building Two dormitory.
“I’m good with that,” Zach shrugged, claiming a bunk for himself. “Gives us more room, anyway. We can scrounge us up a table and chairs, maybe.”
“I thought you were going to build your own place?” Corey mentioned. “Change your mind?”
“No, I haven’t changed my mind,” Zach explained. “But I’m not in a hurry. I want to find a good spot, and one that Clay approves, and then build a solid little place. To tell you the truth, I’m starting to see that building my own place is going to be a bigger problem than I initially thought. You start taking mess halls and bathhouses for granted around here, man. You go off and build your own place, you either got to come up with it yourself, or walk a long way.”
“Shower’s no problem,” Kurtis told him. “Plastic bag or bucket hung out in the sun, with a water hose and a nozzle at the bottom. Sun heats the water in the daytime and then when you come in, you got at least warm water for a good shower.”
“Like those solar camping showers,” Corey was nodding. “Cool.”
“You’re used to being out in the wild, ain’t you?” Titus asked, looking at Kurtis.
“More or less,” the other teen shrugged. “Lot of work on a big ranch means you have to be out on the range. There are usually line cabins and what not, but sometimes you’re stuck away from them and have to rough it. And, anytime I was hunting predators, I had to camp in the wild and be careful when I did it.”
“What kind of predators?” Corey asked.
“Mostly cougars, or panthers you’d call them, or rogue grizzlies. Wolves on occasion, but usually ranchers would tackle them on their own. They weren’t so quick to try and track in on a cat or a bear.”
“No, I’d imagine not,” Heath said quietly. “I’d want tha
t to be a long shot.”
“I always did too,” Kurtis agreed. “Makes you practice more,” he laughed.
“What’s the longest shot you’ve made?” Titus asked, interested now that the subject had come up.
“The longest shot I ever made was from one ridge to another,” Kurtis replied, remembering. “A grizzly boar had been killing cattle, and then started moving on to Yellowstone and hunting bison and moose. Normally, they don’t care, the park service I mean, since that’s the circle of life and all that. But this ole boy, he was just killing and moving on. Might take a bite or two here and there, but that ain’t normal for a grizzly. One like that, sooner or later he’s gonna want to taste a tourist, and that the park service does care about. Or did, anyway,” he amended.
“Someone tagged him with a paint bomb, probably a park ranger that saw him leave a kill, and then another one got him with a tracking dart. Park service doesn’t like to be seen killing animals, and to be honest they ain’t very good at it, either. Or weren’t, I should say. Anyway, I tracked him for ten days, skirting around other bears and one angry moose, another animal you don’t want to mess with. I was atop a pretty rocky ridge that let me see a long way, and as I used my scope to look around. Low and behold, there he was, all the way across the canyon from me.”
“I thought at first he was looking back at me,” he laughed. “But bears don’t see that well. I did see him scenting the air, but I knew there was no way for him to smell me from that far, with the wind in my face. I used a laser range finder and it pinged at eight hundred and fourteen yards; I think. I had three rifles with me, and one of them was a Grizzly Big Bore, ironically enough. A single shot fifty caliber. So, I nestled down on the ground and watched the trees, waiting for the wind to die just a little. The bear, he just walked around a bit, sniffing the air and then the ground. I kept thinking he’d run off, but he never did. I already had my scope dialed in, and when the trees stopped, I took the shot.”
“At first, I thought I might have missed, because he just turned to look my way when he heard the report of my rifle. I reloaded, but to tell you the truth I knew I wasn’t going to get another shot at him that day. He pawed the ground a few times, and that’s when I saw it. I had hit him right behind the shoulder and he was bleeding hard. I watched him fall, and then try to get back up. I stayed and watched him die. Figured I owed him that, if that makes any sense to you. After he had stopped moving, I got my horses and made my way over to him. Took nearly half a day to get there. Buzzards were already circling.”
