“Of water?”
“Of course.”
“Eh, no thanks.” He rubbed his square chin. “Dev, could you step out here for a second? I have something I need to tell you.”
Develyn slipped out the door, but kept her arms folded across her chest. “I’m a little wet.”
“Yes, I noticed.”
What did you notice, Mr. Tallon?
“What do you need, Coop?”
“I heard Uncle Henry braying earlier, so I peeked out the window when you and Slater drove up.”
“You were spying on me?”
“No. I mean, I didn’t mean to. I have to admit I was keeping an eye out just to make sure you got home safe. You have a reputation for …”
“Adventure?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Anyway I saw you and Renny actin’, eh, chummy, which is none of my business. It’s just that I wanted you to know that if the Friday night supper confuses things for you, we can just cancel it.”
“Are you trying to get out of cooking for me?”
“No, ma’am, I’m just tryin’ not to complicate your life. I have no intention of being a pest.”
“Coop, I am really counting on Friday night, so don’t you go backing out on me.”
In the evening shadows, she spied a wide, easy grin. “I won’t, Dev.”
Develyn watched him saunter back to his cabin. Oh, my, Mr. Cooper Fallon, it’s a good thing you hide that smile most of the time. She slipped back inside the cabin and closed the door behind her.
The entire glass of cold water splashed on top of her head.
Both ladies shouted, laughed, hugged, then danced around the room.
* * *
Develyn emerged from the tiny bathroom with a dry shirt and a towel on her head. The cabin felt empty.
“Casey?”
There was no answer.
She opened the front door. “Casey?”
“I’m sitting out here on the porch watching the Wyoming moon.”
“Did you get on some dry clothes?”
“Yes, ma’ma.”
“Can I join you, or do you want to be alone?”
“You can come out if you want.”
Develyn shuffled out and slumped down on the uncovered porch next to Casey.
“Nice big moon, isn’t it?”
“I don’t think the Indiana moon is as big. I know it’s not such a bright white. It’s beautiful.”
“And peaceful.”
“Maybe that’s why the Lord created night. To give us a peaceful break from the day’s confusion.”
“Dev, I’ve decided you are right. I might as well assume that Jackson is the one the Lord has in store for me, until he shows me something different.”
“That’s a good way of looking at it.”
“How about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you assume Renny is the one now, until the Lord shows you different … like he did with Quint?”
“I assume there is no man for me, unless the Lord shows me different.”
“But what about that kissing?”
“I think I got carried away a little.”
“What does Renny think?”
“He understands. We’re just very good friends.”
“You sure are a friendly thing.”
“Thank you. But I don’t think you came out here to contemplate my relationships.”
“You’ve got to teach me everything.”
“About what?”
“Manners, etiquette, speech, posture … you know everything about being a lady. I want to be classy, like you.”
“For Jackson?”
“Yes, I want to be so wonderful and charming that he can’t get me out of his mind.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You won’t teach me?”
“Honey, I’ll teach you anything you really want to know,” Develyn offered. “But that won’t get Jackson to commit.”
“Why not?”
“Jackson Hill isn’t interested in me. He’s interested in you.”
“But if you teach me, I can sort of be like the countess.”
“He’s not interested in the ‘countess’ either. He rather likes Casey Cree-Ryder.”
“But he doesn’t know all about me.”
“Then tell him.”
“The truth?” Casey gasped.
“Yep. Tell him whatever your heart and the Lord agree to tell him.”
Casey groaned. “You mean, I have to tell him about my three illegitimate children and my life as a dope smuggler?”
Dev laughed. “Six weeks ago I would have gasped and believed you.” She hugged Casey. “Not now. I know my Casey.”
Casey hugged her back. “He likes my hair down.”
“I figured he would. I’ve told you. You have to-die-for hair.”
“I need to wash it. It takes forever to dry.”
“Wash it in the morning. You can let it dry while we ride.”
“Eh, listen …” Casey let out a deep sigh, “about tomorrow.”
“What time is Jackson coming over?”
“About 9:00. He has a pal near Casper that he’s going to help shoe a rank horse, first. They’ll have to drop and tie him.”
“Do what?”
“Lay the horse down and restrain him.”
“I’ve never seen that done.”
“Anyway … when he gets done, he wants to come over.”
“That’s wonderful. Are you going someplace?”
“Eh … I thought we’d go for a ride.”
“I think that’s wonderful, Casey. It will give you a good environment to get to know each other better. Does he have a horse to ride?”
“No … see … I was wondering if I could ride My Maria, and I’d let him ride Popcorn. I’ll take good care of her.”
“Of course, honey. You two go for a ride.”
“But that means you don’t get to ride.”
“I’ll survive.”
“What will you do?”
“Gather up all our clothes and go to the laundromat in Casper.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Honey, you think Jackson is the one for you. I think he’s the one for you. Now, all we’ve got to do is convince the Lord and Jackson.”
“How do we do that?”
“I don’t know the details, but I don’t reckon anyone could stand against the Cree-Ryder/Worrell duo.”
“We’re sort of a female version of Butch and Sundance, aren’t we?”
“They both munched it.”
“Yeah, but what fun adventures they had before that.”
“Which am I?” Develyn asked.
“You’re Butch.”
“I was twelve when I first saw that movie, and I pretended to be Katherine Ross all summer. But you didn’t come out here to talk old movies.”
“Dev, I really want you to teach me how to be more gracious and all that. I don’t want to be phony, but I raised myself, and I just want to know the things that normal girls learn from a mama. That’s all.”
“That sounds fair enough. Here’s the first lesson.”
“Do we need to go inside?”
“No, this is just some motherly advice. You asked about how to know who to marry, and I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. I prepared a speech for my Delaney last spring, but she never asked.”
“What did you want to tell her?”
“First, the one you are to marry will agree with your faith. Second, he will let you be you. And third, just being with him will bring out the best in you.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“So, you don’t think I need to try to be like you?”
“Absolutely not. Be yourself. He must like you for who you are.”
“Better to find that out now. You don’t want to put on a false front your entire life just to keep him.”
“Right now I think I’d do anything to keep him.”
“Sweet Casey, you can’t live a lie. Trust me on that. Be yourself, but, mind you, be your best self.”
“Meanwhile, will you teach me all the mama things I missed?”
“Yes, I will do what I can. Now, it’s getting late. So I want you to go in there, brush your teeth, floss and gargle with hydrogen peroxide.”
“I thought that was for dyeing your hair.”
“The bottle in the bathroom is a mouth wash. It kills the bacteria. Then put on your pajamas and go to bed.” Develyn stood and tugged Casey to her feet. “There, does that sound like I’m mothering you?”
“Yes, but I don’t have any pajamas. Will a T-shirt and shorts do?”
“Definitely not. Tomorrow when I go to Casper, I’m buying you some pajamas.”
“Oh, don’t bother. I’ve never worn pajamas in my whole life.”
“That is exactly my point.”
“This is one of those ‘mother’ things?”
“Yes it is.”
“The next thing I know you’ll be making me wear dresses.”
“Hmmmm. Are you a size 10 or 12?”
“Don’t even go there. You said he is supposed to like me for who I am. And I’m a jeans-wearing, boot-stomping cowboy girl.”
“I think a jewel-tone color would go so good with your hair.”
“Don’t you dare come home with a dress for me.”
“Maybe a peasant scoop collar, modest, of course, and skirt just below the knees.”
“Mother!”
“Relax, honey. I won’t buy you a dress if you aren’t with me.”
“Promise?”
“Of course.”
Casey led Develyn back into the cabin. “We do know how to have fun, don’t we?”
Develyn grinned. “Each day is a new delight.”
The sheets were cold, but clean, when Develyn turned off the lantern and slipped under the covers. The pillow felt softer than she remembered. Like a fluorescent nightlight, the moon glowed through the windows.
Lord, who am I to mother Casey? I need to be home, mothering my own daughter. I need to be mothered myself. Am I listening to my own advice? Does Renny bring out my best behavior? Does Quint? Does it matter? Do they let me be myself? I don’t even know who the real Dev Worrell is. That would be a nice thing for me to learn this summer. Will the real Develyn Upton Worrell please stand? Help me discover that.
I hope I like what I find.
* * *
Brownie limped when he rode up out of the water. Develyn slid off the saddle to the prairie floor and walked him over by several tall, gray and green sages. “What’s the matter, boy?”
She dropped the reins to the dirt and reached for his right front leg. He gave her his hoof.
“Oh, you got a rock in your frog …” She clutched the granite stone between her fingers and yanked it. “It’s in there tight! I wish I had a hoof pick like Dewayne.” She glanced around the dirt. “There’s a stick. I’ll use it.”
Develyn retrieved a sliver of a cedar fence post and rammed in under the rock. With a hard thrust, the rock flipped out. Brownie jerked back. Some of the cedar splinters remained lodged in the soft tissue of the upper frog.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Develyn cried out. “Let me get those.”
Brownie shied back.
Ten-year-old Develyn Worrel trotted after the horse. “Wait … wait … I’m sorry … let me take care of you.”
Every time Develyn stepped toward the big brown gelding he limped back, always keeping a distance between them.
“Stand still, Brownie.”
The wind whipped sand in her eyes. Develyn trudged several feet with her eyes closed, then peered between her fingers. The horse continued to back up.
“Wait for me.”
She lunged toward him. He bolted behind some tall sage. His head jerked down when he stepped on the reins.
“Don’t do that! Wait. You are going to hurt yourself even more. Don’t you understand?” Develyn screamed.
Brownie turned his tail toward her and grazed further away.
“I didn’t mean to yell. I’m sorry.”
She rubbed her sticky palm across her little, upturned nose and trudged after him.
“Brownie, I love you and want to help you. How come you are treating me this way?”
With his tail still pointed at her, Brownie stared across the prairie at the rocker arm of a distant oil well pump.
Lord, make that horse stand still. How can I help him if he’s always running away?
She took baby steps as she sneaked up on the horse. When she got within ten feet, he scooted away.
Is that what we do, Lord … do people who are all hurting run away from you? Do they think it is you who hurt them and don’t realize you only want to help them?
Develyn reached her foot out, then pulled it back. She repeated this until the gelding turned around.
“I know I hurt you, Brownie. I was trying to help. If I had my own hoof pick this wouldn’t have happened. But Mother said we shouldn’t waste seventy-nine cents on another hoof pick, and Dewayne said he would carry the pick and I should carry the comb. I guess it was my idea to carry the comb.”
She circled around Brownie. He pivoted, keeping one eye on her.
“Come here, Brownie,” Develyn motioned with her hands. “Come unto me … that’s in the Bible somewhere.”
She perched by a big tuft of brown buffalo grass and rested her hands on her hips. Brownie feigned grazing, though there was nothing but dirt under his nose.
“Do horses have to obey the Bible? How come they never teach that in Sunday school?”
Develyn crouched down behind a tall sage. On her hands and knees, she crept toward the horse. If Mother could see me now, she would insist I not crawl around in the dirt. Daddy would get down here in the dirt and crawl with me. And Dewayne would just laugh his head off. Are the angels laughing at me? I don’t even know if angels can laugh. I don’t think it would be very fun to be an angel if they never got to laugh.
For every foot she crept, the horse took another step away.
Develyn sat down on the warm, yellowish dirt. “I’m not playing that game any more. When you are ready, come over here and I’ll help you.”
She ran her fingers through the warm, fine dry soil, then spelled out D–E–V–E–L–Y–N by using her finger for a pen. When she glanced up, Brownie was staring at the rocker arm on the oil pump again.
“Don’t pretend to ignore me. I saw you look over here. You don’t fool me.”
Brownie shook his head as if trying to rid himself of bridle and bit.
“I mean it. Don’t you tell me no. Develyn Gail Upton does not know the meaning of the word no. At least, that’s what Mother tells me.”
The horse bent his neck around to look at her.
Develyn lowered her voice. “Come on, Brownie. Come to me, please?”
She turned her back on him and waited.
And waited.
But she didn’t peek.
When it gets dark, Daddy will come looking for me. And I’ll be sitting right here, and that dumb horse will be standing right there. We are both so stubborn. But if he thinks he can out-stubborn me, he has another think coming. I’m the queen of stubborn. I out-stared Suzanne Hillary in the school cafeteria … twice!
She felt his nose nudge her shoulder. Hah! You weren’t half as tough as Hillary. The flat leather reins dangled at her ear.
When she looked straight up, two huge brown eyes stared down at her.
This time she wrapped the reins around her right wrist. Brownie elevated his hoof, even before she asked for it.
With careful deliberation she plucked out four splinters, then lowered the hoof.
“OK, let’s walk back to the road and make sure I got them all. You see, I really did want to help you. You are such a pill sometimes. That’s what Mother calls me—a pill. I never know if that means I’m hard to swallow, or that I make her feel better when she’s sick. You make me feel better, did you know that?”
Develyn trudged along in the prairie dirt, the horse one step behind her.
“Sometimes I wish horses could talk. Do you ever wish horses could talk? If you could talk I bet you’d say in a very, very deep voice…. ‘I love you, Develyn Gail Upton.’ I know you love me. I can see it in your eyes. Oh, sometimes you are disgusted with me. And sometimes you can act quite snotty. Not as snotty as LaRue Jordan, but no one can be as snotty as LaRue. But I see your eyes gleam every morning when I come out to the corral. So, there’s no reason to deny it. Brownie loves Devy-girl. I should carve that in a tree somewhere.”
She surveyed the prairie. “Provided there was a tree some place. Did you know Dewayne carved his initials in the bench in front of Mrs. Tagley’s store? I hope he doesn’t get arrested or something. I told him if they threw him in jail I’d write to him every day and bake him cookies once a week. He begged me not to send the cookies. I’m not a very good cook. I suppose I’ll get better someday. Grandma says I will never get a good husband unless I’m a good cook. Hah … I told her … ‘Who wants a husband?’ What I want is a horse.”
Brownie nuzzled her shoulder with his nose.
“Am I talking too much? Mother says I talk too much. Daddy says I’m just exercising my lungs and mouth at the same time. Mother says I should exercise my brain more.”
He nuzzled her again.
“What do you want? Is your foot hurting you?”
Again, he shoved her shoulder.
“What?” she glowered.
“It’s Delaney.”
Develyn sat straight up in bed. The only light in the cabin was the moon shining through the little window.
“What is it?” Develyn mumbled.
Casey poked something into her hand. “It’s your cell phone. You didn’t wake up, so I answered it.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“It’s Delaney. She’s crying. I thought you’d want to talk to her.”
Develyn’s feet hit the floor at the same moment the cell phone slammed into her ear. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
Stephen Bly's Horse Dreams Trilogy: Memories of a Dirt Road, the Mustang Breaker, Wish I'd Known You Tears Ago Page 36
