“Yours were always about being at the beach.”
“And yours were always about horses. Hey, did I tell you I got an “A” in my creative writing class?”
“No, you didn't. I think when you got grades we were on a not-speaking-to-each-other jag.”
“I pulled a 3.37 grade point average this term.”
“That's wonderful, honey. Would you believe that Casey is a straight-A-type student?”
“Really? That's so cool. She is so...so...you know, out there.” Delaney put on the brakes. “What's that?”
“A piece of recap tire off a truck, I suppose.”
Delaney motioned to the side of the road. “Should I go around it?”
“It's steep to my side. It won't hurt to run over it. The Jeep is tough.”
“Oh...no!” Delaney swerved at the last moment. It was a muffled explosion and the Jeep slid to a stop at the road's edge.
“Did we get a flat tire?” Dev asked.
“It was a kill strip,” Delaney moaned.
“A what?”
“One of those things the police put across the highway to blow out tires and stop a chase. The reality police shows always use them.”
“No one would put a kill strip way out here.” Develyn stared at the flat front right tire. “It's flat, alright.”
Delaney hiked back to the dirt road and dragged the rubber mat behind her. “Look at the spikes. We are lucky to only have one flat. Why would anyone have this out here?”
“Maybe it fell out of a sheriff's vehicle. Anyway, we have a flat to change.”
“Did you ever change a flat?”
“No, but I watched AAA do it several times. The spare and the tools are under the floor in the back.”
“It's steep over there. I didn't want to pull any closer. You would think they'd have guardrails.”
Develyn opened the tailgate. “Let's pull out these clothing boxes and put them over on that level spot. Two Worrell women are as strong as one mustang breaker, right?”
“Yeah,” Dee mumbled, “I guess.”
“I'll take the steep side. Work your fingers underneath, and we'll lift it down.”
The gals staggered back with the huge, heavy cardboard box. Develyn felt her right heel catch on a rock.
“No …”
As she tumbled to her backside, the box slipped from Delaney's hands. Eighty pounds of clothing slammed against her chest and face. Develyn shoved the brown cardboard box, and it somersaulted over her head and down the embankment. She leaped to her feet. “No!”
On the second rotation, the folds of cardboard untucked and broadcast the contents into the dirt and mud of the hillside.
“Oh, no...no...no,” Develyn moaned. “This is absurd.”
“Most of them are, but that green one looks nice.”
Develyn turned to her daughter, and both ladies burst out laughing. They hugged each other and watched the box lodge against a sagebrush.
“Mother, what are we going to do?”
“Retrieve the clothing, change the flat, and go to Casper. We'll take them all to the dry cleaners. What else can we do?”
“That hillside is steep.”
“We'll strap our belts together or something.”
“Mother, I believe we're building a memory.”
“I have a feeling for the rest of our lives we will say from time to time...remember when we dumped all those sequined blouses off a cliff in the middle of Wyoming?”
“It's not exactly a cliff.”
“Oh, it will be twenty years from now when we retell it.”
“I like that, Mom. You know, thinking about you and me laughing and giggling at the past, twenty years from now.”
“I do too, honey. And the sooner we get this mess cleaned up, the better.”
Develyn found the dirt and rock on the side of the hill loose but soft. As long as she jammed her foot down and leaned into the mountain, she could scoot to any place she wanted.
She stationed Delaney about ten feet below the gravel roadway. As she retrieved a garment she tossed it up to her daughter, and Delaney tossed it up at the remaining cardboard box.
“I like this one, Mom.” Delaney held up a mauve short-sleeved top with a silver sequined armadillo.
“That's horrible.”
“But it came from Rodeo Drive.”
“Then it's expensive and horrible. It should crawl back home.”
“Maybe we should leave it here on the mountain.”
“Oh, no...somewhere there is an inventory of Miss Emily's clothing. I'm just sure of it.”
“Maybe you can tell the guy at the cleaners that you are doing this for a friend.”
“I'm thinking of leaving the cardboard box down there. It's tough to get to.”
“Do you think there are any left in it?”
“Oh, rats. You might be right, baby. I'll go down. Here...catch this.”
“Did you look at this one?”
Develyn shaded her eyes and stared back up the hill.
“You can see right through it. Whoa, this is like something they wear to the Academy Awards or something.”
“I'm sure Miss Emily wore a discreet blouse under it.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because I want to. I'll go get the box.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Fold everything and set them on the back seat for now. We'll stuff them in the box after we change the tire.”
“Is this a good day, Mom?”
“It's an adventure–a mother-daughter adventure.”
Digging in one heel at a time, Develyn inched her way down the hillside. Ten feet above the box her right heel struck rock and provided no traction. Her left foot staggered forward. To prevent tumbling forward, she plopped down on her rear and began to slide. Before she could get her heels speared into the hillside to break her slide, she crashed into the empty cardboard box.
The box launched into the air. Develyn's flailing right hand clutched the box and yanked back. She slammed against the mountain. The big box swallowed her like Jonah in the big sea.
She tried to catch her breath.
OK, that was cool. I don't hear Dee dying of laughter. Maybe no one saw it. Maybe it didn't happen. Perhaps I am as classy and together as everyone thinks.
Sorry, Lord. You and I know better, don't we? Do things like this happen to other people and no one ever discusses it? Did Miss Emily slide halfway down a mountain once and look like a complete idiot?
Develyn tipped the box over and sat up.
“OK, that's enough fun, class. Recess is over. Time to go back to the classroom. Devy Upton, you make sure you wash up before you come to class.”
Wouldn't my class have loved to see that scene? Well, too bad, boys and girls. Nothing but smooth moves from now on.
“I have no idea why I wanted to save your life, Mr. Empty Box, but I've come this far; I intend to rescue you, whether you want me to or not.”
She couldn't carry the box in front of her and still keep her balance leaning into the mountain. With her hands over her shoulders, she held it on her back. Taking short, sure steps, she plodded up the hill.
Lord, this would be a great time for Coop to drive by and change my flat. No, not Coop. He's rescued me enough already. Maybe Cuban or Tiny, or one of the other boys from the ranch.
She could see the top of the Cherokee when she heard voices. Delaney was talking to a man.
Develyn stood straight up. “Dee?” But her center of gravity shifted when she stood, and she tumbled back into the cardboard box. When she tried to scramble out of the box, it began to slide down the hill.
“No!” she hollered.
Backward in the box, she could only see where she had been. Delaney appeared at the edge of the roadway with a tall, lanky cowboy next to her. She waved and screamed,
“Mother?”
Develyn waved back.
That's it? That's all I did? I'm sliding down the mountain to my death, and I just wave?
She tried to peek over the edge of the box at where she was headed, but the box began to tip over.
No...no...She pulled herself back into the box. I will close my eyes and pretend that I'm riding the whip with Dewayne at the Montgomery County Fair. I'll wake up from a dream, or I'll wake in the hospital, or I'll wake up in heaven. It doesn't matter. No, it does matter. I want to be with Dee. Lord, I need to spend time with…
The box brushed against a low, gray sage, spun around three times, then stopped in the middle of a dirt road. With deliberate caution she crawled out of the box and stood. She brushed dirt off her new jeans and stomped her tennies on the roadway as if that would magically clean them.
She surveyed the upper roadway but couldn't see Delaney or the lanky cowboy.
“Mr. Box, you and I will take the road back up to the Jeep. I am going to load you up and carry you home. Then tonight I will slowly slice you to pieces and burn each scrap in the fire. Nothing personal, of course.”
Her thighs burned by the time she hiked the mile up the winding road. She spied a white Ford pickup, the Cherokee, and Delaney wearing a red sequined jacket, buttoned at the neck.
As she approached, the tall cowboy finished tightening the lug nuts on the wheel.
“Hi, Mom, that looked like fun. Did you have a nice ride? Isn't it so cool that Hunter just happened along? I think he was God sent, don't you?”
“What are you doing with Miss Emily's jacket? It's too tight on you.”
Delaney's voice softened to a whisper. “Don't ask, Mom. I'll explain later.”
Burke sauntered over to them. “There you go, Mrs. Worrell. It's all fixed. I just put the flat in the back by the clothes. I reckon you'll want to get that tire fixed. You'll need a new tire, of course.”
“Hunt offered to haul off the kill strip.”
“Thank you very much, Hunt. We do appreciate the help. What were you doing way out here?”
“I got lost. I was headed to Brady Fetter's place. You don't happen to know where it is, do you?”
“I never heard of him.”
“Where does this road go, anyway?”
“Follow it south and you'll end up at the corrals in Argenta. But that's about twenty-five miles back. To the north it leads past the headquarters of the Quarter Circle Diamond ranch.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Worrell. It's what I get for headin' out without directions. Kind of like a Sunday school class without a Bible, I reckon.”
Delaney listened to Hunt like a woman who wants to make sure the man feels good about himself.
“Delaney Melinda Worrell, we had better get back to town ourselves. I want to clean up before we go to Casper.”
“We will have to visit the Burdett ranch another day.”
“Are you headed to see the Burdetts?”
“That was our destination before we had a flat.”
“Their place is only four-and-a-half miles from here.”
“Yes, I know, but we must get back. Again, thanks for your help.”
He tipped his straw cowboy hat. “You're welcome, ma'am. Think I'll mosey up the road another mile or two. I'd hate to come this far and not see my old pal, Bradley.”
“Bye, Hunt. You promised to call, remember?” Delaney insisted.
His dimple caught the sunlight. “Hunter Burke keeps his promises.”
Develyn loaded the box and the rest of the blouses into the Cherokee as Delaney walked Hunt back to his pickup. She was combing her short blonde hair using the side-view mirror when the Ford roared on up the road.
“Is that so cool that he came along? Mother, something is happening here.”
“I agree with you, honey. There are some unanswered questions.”
“Like what?”
“What was Hunter Burke really doing on this road?”
“He was looking for a friend.”
“Don't you find it strange that he just happened along?”
“I thought it was marvelous. Why are you so suspicious?”
“I'll answer that if you'll answer why you are wearing that red sequined jacket that's way too tight for you.”
“I didn't know he was going to drive up. While I waited for you, I wanted to try on one of Miss Emily's blouses. But I didn't want Hunt to see me in it.”
“He saw you in the jacket. What difference does it make?”
“It's, you know, the see-through blouse.”
“But that won't fit you.”
“I know,” Delaney grimaced.
She unzipped the red jacket and tossed it in the Cherokee. “See?”
Develyn turned her head. “Delaney, you get some clothes on right now.”
“But you didn't see…”
“I saw everything you were born with. Get dressed. I am positive that Miss Emily wore a shirt under that thing.”
They were headed south back to Argenta when Delaney asked, “Why were you suspicious of Hunter?”
“He said he was lost and didn't even know his way back to town, but he knew the Burdett ranch was 4.5 miles on up the road. Don't you find that strange?”
“I never thought about it.”
“Then he said he was looking for an old pal, Brady. But later on he called him Bradley. All this property is the Burdett ranch. There isn't anyone else living up here.”
“Mother, you are making too much of this.”
“I just want you to be cautious.”
“I can't believe I've been here two days, and you are doing this to me all over again.”
“Doing what?”
“Dissing any guy that I am interested in.”
“I'm just asking the questions you should be asking.”
“That's what you said about Troy and Peter and Chip and Johnny. Well, Johnny was a jerk; I'll admit that. Every boy I ever brought home to visit, in your eyes, had some big character flaw. It never fails.”
“Dee, that's not true. I just want to make sure …”
“It is true. Name one boy that I ever dated that you liked.”
“I'm sure that…”
“Name one.”
“Delaney, this is not...how about the foreign exchange student?”
“Jerold?”
“Yes, he was very nice. How come you only dated him once?”
“Because I didn't like being groped in the movie theater.”
“You never told me that.”
“Did you tell Grandma everything when you were in high school?”
“Of course not.”
“You criticize every guy I want to date, Mom. You always wanted me to be more discriminating, but no matter how much I tried, you could find fault. I gave up trying to please you.”
There was silence for several miles.
“Honey, I'm sorry. Never once in my heart did I want to make your life miserable. I was hoping for your happiness.”
Delaney reached over across the front seat and took her mother's hand. “I know. That's just the way you are. Grandma gets on your nerves. You get on my nerves. And someday I want to have a beautiful daughter who looks like Grammy Dev, and I'm sure I'll get on her nerves. It's a family tradition.”
“Grammy Dev, huh?”
“It sounds good.”
“Yes, it does. And if that's what happens, I will embrace it without regret. But if it's alright with you and the Lord, I'd just as soon wait a few years to be called that.”
“I won't mind waiting a while to be a mommy either.”
“Honey, if you are going to have a baby, he or she must be your focus. You'll have to learn how to be a single mom. For the first year or two, I don't think it would be wise for you to be dating. Maybe when the baby is here, the father will be more interested. You have to gi
ve the little one that option.”
“But what about my needs?”
“It's not about you. Life is about that baby.”
“And what if I'm not pregnant?”
“Then you can search for your man.”
“And you?”
“I think I'm giving up the search.”
“Why?”
“Because life isn't about me either, sweetie. I'm a single mother, and I have a daughter. Until you are settled into God's plan for you, I don't want to complicate things.”
“I've never heard you say that.”
“It took a dirt-road town in Wyoming to teach me that.”
“So, if I'm not pregnant, you'll let me date Hunt?”
“You are twenty years old. I can't tell you whom to date or not to date. But I can give you my opinion. I'll tell you what: if you're not pregnant, you date whomever you and the Lord agree on, and I won't say one word.”
“Not a word?”
“Unless you ask me.”
“I can't believe you said that, Mom.”
Neither can I, honey, neither can I.
Not one word was spoken the entire trip back from Casper.
The few times Develyn glanced out of the corner of her eye, Delaney gazed out the window at some distant horizon. Develyn felt tightness in her neck and shoulders. Her stomach cramped as if she had eaten a green chili burrito from the mini-mart.
When she glanced at herself in the rearview mirror, all she could see were her narrow, crow's-feet-framed eyes hiding behind dark glasses.
You look old and worn out, Develyn Gail Upton Worrell. In some ways this summer has been a great deception. Cowboys compliment, and you believe them all. But they flirt with every woman. You are middle-aged and getting older by the minute. Look at those eyes, Devy-girl. This is the best you are ever going to look. It only gets worse, honey. Someday soon, all the makeup in the world won't cover those age creases. So are you going to be a gracious old lady or a bitter old lady? Those are your choices. Either way, you will be an old lady.
I have some goals in this life, Lord.
And I don't know if I'm achieving them or not. I want to finish a career of teaching elementary children. That is one passion that has never faded. I want to be a good mother. Delaney is my only shot at it. And right now, I feel like I'm going down for the third time.
Stephen Bly's Horse Dreams Trilogy: Memories of a Dirt Road, the Mustang Breaker, Wish I'd Known You Tears Ago Page 52
