Stephen Bly's Horse Dreams Trilogy: Memories of a Dirt Road, the Mustang Breaker, Wish I'd Known You Tears Ago

by Stephen A. Bly

  “You’re sure Daddy’s OK with me moving to Texas?”

  “He’ll cry when you go, and miss you terribly when you’re gone, but he wants you to do it.”

  “You think if I went to talk to him right now, he’d cry?”

  “He probably would.”

  “The only times I’ve ever seen him cry are when my brother and then my mama died.”

  Develyn bit her lip. “And the only time I’ve seen him cry was tonight when he talked about his Lindsay.”

  * * *

  The sky draped deep blue.

  The cedars reflected dark green.

  The air tasted like fresh, clean sage.

  The road back to Argenta was dry enough not to stick to the tires, and just wet enough to suppress any thought of dust. Develyn had both front windows rolled down, Brooks and Dunn music turned up loud.

  Lord, I haven’t been this happy since I first drove to Wyoming. It’s been a good summer … a great summer … and …

  She reached over and turned off the stereo.

  I miss my Delaney. I’ve been taking care of other people. I’ve been taking care of myself. I need to be taking care of my baby. Maybe, her baby. Oh, Lord … help me to accept your will in this matter.

  When she crossed the railroad tracks, her cell phone registered a signal and she glanced at her watch.

  It’s ten o’clock in Indiana. That’s plenty of sleep.

  She punched the speed dial and waited for the ring.

  On the fifth ring, there was a sleepy “Hello?”

  “Hi, baby, it’s me.”

  “Mother, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, Dee, I just called to check on you.”

  “This early in the morning?”

  “It’s 10 a.m., isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but I put in a double shift yesterday, and helped them close. I didn’t get to bed until two. I want to sleep until noon.”

  “A double shift? Honey, take care of yourself.”

  “I made $112 in tips. Cool, huh?”

  “Yes, it is. Now go back to bed.”

  “OK. Mom … why did you really call?”

  “I was missing you like crazy and wanted to tell you I loved you.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I love you too Mom.”

  “See you Wednesday, baby.”

  * * *

  She fed Uncle Henry and the horses before she went into the cabin. She noticed Cooper Tallon’s pickup parked in its usual place. She pulled off her boots and her socks and wiggled her toes on the cold linoleum floor. Then she grabbed a plastic bottle of water. When the phone rang, she stepped outside to answer it.

  “Hi, Devy-girl.”

  “Casey, how are you? Where are you?”

  “I’m at Jackson’s sister’s place in Red Lodge. We are getting ready for church. You haven’t got married yet, have you?”

  “Me?” Develyn laughed. “Of course not. Have you?”

  “No way. But I did have a question. What is your last day of school next year?”

  “Next June?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t have my calendar. Why do you ask?”

  “Jackson and I are trying to pick a date for the wedding, and I want you to be my maid of honor … or is it matron of honor?”

  “You what? You … you … you’ve only known him three days.”

  “Why is that such a big deal?”

  “You can’t agree to get married after three days.”

  “How many days does it take? Thirty? Forty-two? Sixty? Is there a law or something?”

  “There’s no law; it varies from couple to couple … but you can’t …”

  “Good, Dev. I think Jackson and me are one of those rare three-day couples.”

  “Casey, you can’t do this. You can’t get engaged so soon.”

  Develyn heard Casey holler. “It’s no good Jackson, Mama won’t let me marry you.”

  “Wait … wait … wait, honey … I didn’t say …”

  Casey burst out laughing.

  “Were you trying to give your old mother a heart attack?”

  “I had you going, didn’t I? You are so easy to tease.”

  “I guess it’s my gift … to others.”

  “I need you to get a phone number for me.”

  “This whole call was about you needing a phone number?”

  “Yeah, Jackson’s sister is looking for a dressage horse. Becky Trimmons has one over in Gillette, but I don’t remember her number and it’s not listed. Can you get my address book out of my red gear bag?”

  “I’m still tiffed over that wedding ruse.”

  Develyn went inside the cabin and read Casey the phone number.

  “So, that’s all you wanted?”

  “That’s it. Thanks. I’ll be home Tuesday.”

  “I’m going up to Buffalo with Renny on Tuesday, but I won’t be late.”

  “Are you and Renny a number?” Casey asked.

  “No, we are just friends. Real good friends. How about you and Jackson? Are you two a number?”

  “Yeah, I think we are. I’ve never been a number with anyone before.”

  “Do you like it, Casey?”

  “Yes, I do. I really like it.”

  “Are you still planning to go with me on Wednesday to pick up Delaney?”

  “I’m countin’ on it, Dev. Listen …”

  “Yes?”

  “I really do want to know what your last day of school is next summer.”

  That’s the best place for breakfast between Billings and Cheyenne,” Renny said. His black hat was pushed back, a wooden toothpick hung from his dimpled smile.

  “It’s incredible how much food they serve you.” Develyn leaned against the seat of the pickup and studied the outstretched parallel ribbons of Interstate 25 north. “I didn’t quite understand the name of the place.”

  “It hasn’t always been called ‘Earl’s or Else.’ When I first started eatin’ there it was called ‘Earl’s & Elsie’s.’”

  “Elsie was his wife?”

  “Yep.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She went home.”

  “To her parents?” Develyn asked.

  “To her husband and kid.”

  “I thought you said she was married to Earl.”

  “She was. She was a mail-order bride from China. Earl went through this agency in Seattle. Paid to have her come over, and married her. He gave her the name Elsie. She was quite an excellent cook. You should have seen the place before she moved in.”

  “But she got homesick and returned to China?”

  “Turns out her daddy was some political prisoner over there and they needed to ship all his family out of the country. When things changed, it was time to gather them all back. So one day, a big black limousine with foreign embassy plates pulled into Earl’s & Elsie’s and off she went. Turns out she had a husband and a son back in China. All he gets is a letter and a picture of her kid ever’ Christmas. He was just goin’ to white out the ‘& Elsie’s,’ but it tossed the sign off center. So he changed it to Earl’s or Else.”

  “Or else … what?” Develyn asked.

  “Or else you have to eat somewhere else, I reckon.”

  “I would have never guessed by looking at the outside that it had good food. In fact, there’s no way I’d ever stop there on my own.”

  “Yep. I always say that Earl’s sort of looks like a cross between an auto wrecking yard and a Mexicali brothel. You know, that rundown, cheesy look.”

  She sat up and laughed. “You said that just to get me stirred up. I’m not falling for that, cowboy. I know for a fact you’ve never been to such a place.”

  “Shoot, Devy-girl, I’ve never even been to Mexicali. I visited Juarez once and been to Calgary a dozen times. That’s the extent of my internat
ional travels. How about you?”

  “I’ve been to Europe a couple of times with my mother, and …”

  “Hold on, Devy-girl!” Renny shouted.

  Develyn clutched the handhold as Renny slammed on the brakes. They shot out into the wide dirt median that separated the interstate lanes.

  “What is it?” she yelled.

  “Ivan’s in trouble.”

  The pickup bounced and lunged as the left tires raised off the ground when Renny cranked a hard left and roared up on the southbound lanes.

  She fought to catch her breath. “Who’s Ivan?”

  “Look!” Renny pointed to a horse trailer on the right apron of the Interstate. A man tried to get a kicking, panicked horse out of the silver trailer.

  Renny pulled over fifty feet behind the rig and jumped out of the truck. “Come on, we’ve got to help!” he hollered.

  We? I don’t have to cross a border to be in a foreign land.

  “Renny, you’re a sight for sore eyes!” the man shouted. “Geraldine was gettin’ close to deliverin’ the baby, and things got complicated … I didn’t have time to wait for the doc … so I was rushin’ her to the clinic but it don’t look like we’ll make it.”

  A little boy stuck his head out the pickup window. “Daddy, the baby is crying.”

  “Honey, you help her settle down.”

  “She wants Mommy!”

  “I know, hon,” Ivan shouted. “But Mommy’s stuck in the front of the horse trailer.”

  Develyn’s hands went to her mouth as he tried to peer in front of the flailing horse. Oh, my Lord, no … a pregnant lady is stuck in the front of a trailer with a panicked horse?

  “Ease up on the rope, Ivan!” Renny shouted.

  “She’ll surely kick you to death if you get in there, Renny.”

  “You’ll lose your wife, your horse, and the little one if I don’t get her out now.”

  Take a deep breath, Dev … you are OK … if you faint, no one will even notice. Stay calm. You can do this. Everyone’s going to die.

  A big truck blasted by so close the wind almost spun her around.

  The horse kicked at Renny. The bang of the hoofs on the walls of the trailer sounded like lightning striking. Renny waited for the second kick, then dove into the trailer for the horse’s head stall.

  I can’t watch this … he’ll be kicked to death.

  Renny’s right hand caught the head stall, and he hung on like a dead weight. “Yank on the lead rope now!” he shouted.

  The tall, thin cowboy with the battered straw hat waved at Develyn. “I need some help.”

  She ran and grabbed the rope. No one has ever needed my strength before. They’ve never even asked for it.

  The rope burned her hands as she and Ivan yanked. The horse struggled and fought, but first one hind leg and then the other left the trailer. After another kick at Ivan and Develyn, the horse backed out of the trailer and tugged Renny like a ball and chain. A woman limped out behind Renny. She sported a torn flannel shirt and had sweat dripping down her face.

  Ivan and Renny led the horse to a spot between the freeway and the fence. The flashing lights of a Wyoming state patrolman caught Develyn’s attention.

  “Slater, what’s going on here?” the lawman shouted.

  Hatless, but still clutched to the halter of the horse, Renny waved a frantic arm at the trooper. “Bobby, call Dr. Bradford in Casper and tell him to get out here right now. We’ve got a breech birth coming any minute, and we’ll lose the horse and the foal if we don’t get help.”

  The woman stepped up to Develyn.

  “The horse …” Develyn mumbled. “The horse is the one giving birth?”

  “You didn’t think it was me, did you?” The lady stuck out her hand. “I’m Lovie, Ivan’s wife. You are so pretty and clean you must belong to Renny.”

  “I’m Dev Worrell. We’re good friends.”

  Lovie rubbed her thigh. “I’ll have a major bruise there tomorrow. I’m lucky that was the only time I was kicked.”

  “What were you doing in the trailer?”

  “Tryin’ to keep Geraldine quiet until we got to the vet. She’s my mare.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t get hurt more.”

  “I never prayed so much in my life.” The woman watched as Renny and Ivan looped a rope around the horse’s leg.

  “What are they doing?”

  “Lying the horse down. You do know that there isn’t another man in Wyoming that would have dove in there and grabbed that halter. Renny will put his life on the line for his friends … shoot, for complete strangers … time and again. I don’t know how he’s lived this long. He’s a godsend, that’s for sure.”

  Above the roar of freeway traffic, Develyn leaned over and whispered. “Lovie, your shirt’s ripped, and your bra’s showing a little.”

  “Lovie, we need you over here!” Ivan shouted. “Hold her head down.”

  “Mommy! The baby needs you,” the boy cried from the truck.

  She squeezed Develyn’s hand. “I suppose my bra is the least of my worries right now.”

  “I’ll get the baby,” Develyn offered.

  “Thanks. Take them over by the fence.” Lovie ran down the embankment to sit on the flailing horse.

  Develyn hiked up to the muddy gray Dodge pickup. A little boy about five had his head out the window. “Is Geraldine going to die?”

  “Your daddy and mommy and Mr. Slater are taking care of her.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Ms. Worrell. I’m a friend of Mr. Slater.”

  “I’m Buster.”

  “I’m glad to meet you.” Develyn glanced inside at a whimpering infant strapped into a car seat.

  “What’s your sister’s name?”

  “Naomi.”

  “Buster, your mommy asked me to get you and Naomi and stand over by the fence. Is that alright with you?”

  “OK.”

  Develyn wiped the eyes of the six-month-old, cradled her in her arms, then wrapped her in a thin, pink, burp-stained blanket. She took Buster’s sticky hand, and they walked down to the fence. Several more pickups then parked behind the patrol car.

  “It’s Renny!” Buster shouted.

  “Yes, the one putting on the rubber gloves is Mr. Slater.”

  “No, it’s not!” Buster shouted. “It’s Renny!”

  You have quite a fan club, Mr. Renny Slater. “What’s he doing?”

  “He’s going to reach up inside of Geraldine and try and turn the foal’s hooves,” Buster reported.

  Develyn sucked air.

  It’s OK, Ms. Worrell … sit down in the dirt … put your head between your knees. Breathe deep.

  “Buster, let’s just sit here in the dirt. It might take awhile.”

  “Yeah, and we get to see everything!”

  Develyn glanced down at the big brown eyes of the baby. Little Naomi clutched her fingers. “Honey, you and me don’t have to watch if we don’t want to.”

  The vet never arrived, but the brown colt did.

  * * *

  Several dozen people who had gathered on the shoulder of the Interstate applauded. While the colt tried out his new legs, Renny and Ivan cleaned up. After a long walk with Buster and Naomi along the fence line, Develyn returned to find the horses trailered. Only Ivan and Renny’s rigs were left.

  “Well, Devy-girl, I’m a mess.”

  She looked at his wet, filthy shirt and jeans. “Yes, and I don’t want to know what it is you have smeared all over your arm.”

  “You and Renny were surely angels amongst us today,” Ivan said.

  “You have wonderful children,” Develyn reported.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m a lucky man.” He turned and slapped Renny on the back. “Partner, you saved me today. I can’t repay it, but you got supper and a place to stay anytime you’re in our area. You
know that for a fact.”

  “Thanks, Ivan. You would have done the same for me.”

  Ivan looked right at Develyn. “No, I wouldn’t. I would have helped all I could, but I don’t have the guts or the timing to dive for that halter.”

  “Or the foolishness,” Renny replied.

  “No, you knew what you were doing,” Ivan replied.

  “Sometimes a man’s brave because he doesn’t have much to lose.”

  Renny and Develyn hiked back up to his pickup. “Well, Ms. Worrell, that’s a little excitement I didn’t expect to show you this morning.”

  She smiled and peered over the top of her sunglasses.

  “Mr. Slater, life with you is never dull. There’s always something new.”

  “Here’s another thing new. I am too messy to even get in my truck. You are going to drive across the median to the northbound lanes and head up there two miles to a rest stop. I’ll hop in the back of the pickup.”

  * * *

  With a fresh, clean long-sleeve green shirt and Wranglers, Renny Slater slid back behind the steering wheel. “Is that better?”

  “You scrub up well, cowboy.”

  “Have you had enough excitement for the day?”

  “I’ve had enough for a lifetime.”

  They took the exit just south of Buffalo and angled west toward the Bighorn Mountains. Blacktop gave way to gravel, then to dirt as they approached a large green square in the otherwise brown prairie.

  “That’s my forty acres.” Renny pointed straight ahead.

  “You have it irrigated.”

  “Yep. Rod Clements is a well-driller and owed me some favors. So I let him sink a couple of wells for me. All together I have over a hundred gallons a minute, which is pretty good for the east side of the mountains. It allows me to grow a little hay if I rotate it around.”

  “Are those your horses back there?”

  “Eight of them are mine. The other four belong to various friends who by now have probably forgot where they left ’em.”

  They pulled under a big log gate carved with a circle RS in the middle.