She sucked in a deep breath and glanced at her daughter, who sat with hands in her lap, jaw clenched, eyes turned away.
For two weeks, Lord, I couldn't wait for Dee to come out and be with me. Everything would be fine then. I would mother her, and she would need me. In two days we've gotten to the not-speaking-to-each-other stage. How can I try so hard and be such a miserable failure?
It sounds like my marriage.
Something inside of me needs to be fixed, and I don't know what it is. I thought I got things right this summer. Dee was sort of the test. Did my journey to a dirt-road town really change me?
Another glance at her daughter, then Develyn slowed to turn at the Waltman/Argenta Road.
Change? This is like most weeks since the divorce.
As long as I'm chasing windmills, Lord, I'd like to know that I can love a man right and keep him loving me. I suppose that means I want to get married again. But I'm not even sure of that. I just want to know that I can do it.
Without glancing at her daughter, she wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes.
She made a quick turn by the cottonwood tree and parked the Cherokee in front of the grocery store. “I'm getting an orange Popsicle. Do you want one?”
Delaney leaned against the window, eyes closed.
“I'll assume that means ‘No, thank you, Mother.’”
Develyn paused on the front porch and rubbed her fingertips across her brother's initials carved into the wagon seat bench.
Dewa, so much has happened since we were ten. Lots of it painful for you and for me. You loved your wife like crazy, and she died in your arms. I tried to love my husband, and he spent most of his life in others'arms. It hurts, Dewa. I know it still hurts you too.
I don't want any more failures. Any more pain. I don't know how to be the mother Delaney needs. She's all I have. Dee and you. I need you, dear brother. I'm a forty-five-year-old little girl who misses her brother.
Develyn wiped her eyes on her blouse sleeve.
And I need an orange Popsicle…bad.
The living-room store smelled of a blend of cinnamon rolls and menthol rubbing cream. Develyn strolled past the rack of Little Debbies to the large chest freezer behind the counter.
“It's just Devy-girl, Mrs. Tagley. I need my Popsicle.”
The older woman's voice filtered out from the back room. “I'm just finishing my soaps.”
Develyn paused at the doorway between the store and the living quarters in the back.
Mrs. Tagley didn't take her eyes off the television screen. “You look tired, honey.”
“It's been a long day already.”
“She's pregnant, you know.”
“What? I mean…how do you know that?” Develyn questioned.
“Devy, if a woman gets drunk at a party wearing a dress that plunges down to her navel, she's likely to wake up pregnant.”
“Who are you talking about?”
Mrs. Tagley pointed to the screen. “Misty.”
“Oh, yes, well, a seductive dress does get results, so I hear.”
“Don't they teach young girls anything in school these days?”
“Sometimes they do, but the girls don't listen.”
“I don't think she will be a very good mother.”
“Perhaps she will learn.”
“Some women never do, you know.”
Develyn took a lick on the orange Popsicle and glanced out the front window toward the Jeep. “Yes, I know.”
“This will break her mother's heart.”
“Whose mother?”
“Misty's. Remember that horrible boating accident that left her mother a widow? Misty is all she has. What will the Brownsvilles think?”
“Brownsvilles?”
“Misty's mother's neighbors who own the pineapple plantation in the Philippines. And how will her dear mother tell all her friends at the yacht club?”
“Children do present challenges.”
“And grandchildren.”
“So I hear.”
Mrs. Tagley turned and looked at Develyn. “They took away her shotgun.”
“Whose?”
“Mrs. Morton's. The deputy came by and took away her shotgun.”
“That might be best.”
“Well, it's best for Leon, that's for sure. They gave her a trumpet instead.”
“Does Mrs. Morton know how to play a trumpet?” Develyn asked.
“No, but what does that matter?”
“What's the trumpet for?”
“A warning signal that Leon's on the loose. That's what the shotgun was for. It was to warn all of us that Leon was out and about.”
“And now we will listen for a trumpet?”
“Yes.”
“I didn't know that was a warning signal.”
“Did you think she was trying to shoot him?”
“The thought did cross my mind.”
“You've been back east too long, honey. You aren't going to stay away another thirty-five years, are you?”
“I will be back next summer, that's for sure.” Develyn waved the frozen treat. “You'll need to stock up on orange Popsicles.” Develyn felt a drip of cold liquid splash on her chin. When she looked down, it slid off her chin and onto her blouse.
Delaney wasn't in the Cherokee when Develyn stepped outside. Develyn surveyed the one dirt road and dozen buildings of Argenta.
She must have walked back to the cabin. I don't blame her.
I'm sure I treated my mother the same. Maybe not when I was twenty, but when I was sixteen.
Dev drove slowly up the drive to the cabin.
She rolled down her window when met by a burro.
“What are you doing out of the pasture, honey? There's Popcorn. Where's Aunt Jenny and My Maria? Did they run off? We'll find them, baby. Now, come on up to the cabin.”
Dee wouldn't purposely leave the gate open, would she? No, the gate's closed.
When she pulled up to the cabin, she noticed Cooper Tallon cinching her saddle on My Maria. His buckskin gelding stood saddled next to the mare.
“Hi, Coop, what's happening here?”
“I didn't have to go all the way to Cheyenne after all. So I thought about riding out to the springs and trying to dig my digital camera out of the rocks. When I saw you pull up to Mrs. Tagley's, I took a chance that you wanted to ride a little today and fetched My Maria from the pasture.”
“Yes, well, I didn't expect to get back from Casper so early.”
“Miss Dee hiked into the cabin a few minutes ago. I take it you two had a tiff. Not that it's any of my business.”
“We spent the last hour not talking to each other.”
“That's what I figured.”
“What happened to Aunt Jenny?”
“When I swung the gate open to lead out your mare, that she-burro broke for the open ground and bolted to the north. I closed the gate on Uncle Henry, assumin' you didn't want him to leave home just yet.”
“But he got out?”
“He got frantic when she left and galloped down to the creek. If he lays down in the water, he can roll under the wire down there.”
“And he didn't try to follow her?”
“He trotted back to the cabin and turned north just as you drove up the drive. When he spotted you, he spun around and plodded your direction.”
“He chose me over Aunt Jenny?”
“Never underestimate a mother's pull.” Cooper nodded at the cabin.
“You talking burros or daughters, Mr. Tallon?”
“Both, Ms. Worrell.”
She stroked Uncle Henry's nose. “We'll go look for her, baby. But we will not drag her back here again. If she wants to run off, there is nothing we can do. Besides, I don't think she was right for you.”
“You want to ride out to the springs with me, then?”
&
nbsp; “I'd like that. But I might dump a bunch of mother-daughter things on you. I need to get some things out.”
“I can listen, Miss Dev. A bachelor my age has spent most of his life listenin', not talkin'.”
“Thanks, Coop. I'd better let Dee know where I am headed. Casey didn't get back yet, did she?”
“Nope.”
Develyn carried her purse to the cabin and laid it on the counter. Delaney was stretched out, face down, on the lower bunk. Dev grabbed her new University of Wyoming sweatshirt.
She paused by the bed.
“Honey, I'm going to ride out to the springs with Coop and help him recover his digital camera.”
There was no reply.
“Dee, I'm sorry I lost my cool at the doctor's office. I know I embarrassed you. We need to talk some on what to do next. I know that. But you need a nap, and I need a ride. I'll be back in an hour or so; is that alright?”
Still no reply.
“I love you, honey. Sometimes, I know, I'm not showing that in a way that you need. But I have loved you since the moment I found out I carried you in my womb. Now get some rest.”
As Develyn reached the open doorway, she heard a muffled voice.
“What, honey?”
“I love you, too, Mom.”
Without much effort, Develyn swung up into the saddle.
Cooper handed the reins across to her, then nodded at the cabin. “Ever'thin' alright in there?”
“We'll get through it, Coop. Some days I think the only thing I know how to do is teach fifth-graders. I'm sort of a failure at everything else.”
He took the buckskin to a trot. She pinched her knees against My Maria and rode up beside him. Develyn glanced over her shoulder at Uncle Henry. “Come on, baby. We'll go look for your pal.”
“Dev, it isn't any of my business, so don't feel like you've got to tell me.”
“You want to know what happened at the doctor's office?”
“It would help me pray for you and Delaney. Is she pregnant?”
“I don't have a clue.”
“The doctor couldn't tell?”
“I'm sure he could have, but we never got that far.”
“But that's why you drove to town.”
“I know. It's rather…” She sighed, her shoulders slumped.
“You don't have to tell me.”
“Yes, I do. I have to tell somebody, Coop. It's eating me up.”
“OK, you went to the doctor's and didn't get to see him.”
“The clinic lobby was crowded. We're just tourists from out of town. All I had told them was my twenty-year-old daughter needed a checkup.”
“Not high on the priority list.”
“I could tell Dee was getting more nervous by the moment.”
“Well, the results do change your life forever, I reckon.”
“There were a couple of sick, crying babies in the waiting room. That didn't calm us down much.”
“Did they ever call you?”
“Yes, Dee wanted me with her, so we waited another thirty minutes in the tiny exam room. She started chewing her tongue like she does when she's near panic. I think it was hitting her all at once. She didn't want to talk.”
Dev paused and bit her lip. She waited for him to say, “You don't have to say any more.” He didn't say anything but led them single file down to Cougar Creek.
She rode up alongside him when they came up on the prairie on the other side. “After a half-hour a young man who looked like a college freshman, with a name tag that read Dr. Jeremy Dierkens, came into the room. He apologized that Dr. Marguerite Sievers was called to the hospital over a shooting injury. He was taking her afternoon appointments. Dee just stood there with her mouth open.
“He glanced down at the information form we had filled out, then grabbed stirrups out of the drawer and shoved them into the exam table. He said something like, ‘Please disrobe completely from the waist down, and hop up here on the table.’”
“To which Delaney replied?”
‘“I most certainly will not!’ Her voice cracked, and she wrapped her arms around herself. He looked surprised, then glanced down at the clipboard. ‘“You wanted a preg check, right?’”
“‘Not by you,’ Delaney sobbed. ‘I want a lady doctor.’ I tried to comfort her. I told her, ‘Honey, we can't be too choosy today. I'll stay in here with you.’”
“But that didn't help?” Coop asked.
“She bolted out of the exam room and into the crowded waiting room. When I grabbed her arm, she was headed to the front door. I said, ‘Dee, you need an exam.’”
“‘Not from him!’ she shouted. I tried to get her to lower her voice. I told her, ‘Honey, he told me he graduated from the University of Arizona med school, class of ‘03. He's twenty-nine years old.’”
“It takes a brilliant young man to get through that young,” Cooper said.
“A fact that was lost in the circumstances. I was still holding her by the arm. She yanked it away and stumbled into an older man with a walker. By now everyone in the room was staring at us. With as quiet a voice as I could muster, I said, ‘Delaney Melinda, let's go to the back room and get that exam now.’”
“I don't reckon she gave in, huh?”
“She yelled at me, with a horrible, angry voice. ‘Mother, I am not going to strip buck naked from the waist down, jam my feet into those metal stirrups, and let some kid doctor stare inside of me.”
Cooper pushed his hat back but didn't look at Develyn. “I surmise you two don't intend to go to that clinic again.”
“I've been considering whether I have the nerve to show my face in the city of Casper again.”
“So she stomped out, and you stomped out right behind.”
“I was frozen in place long enough to read all the faces in that room.”
“What did the faces say?”
“‘There is one spoiled brat and her terrible mother.”
“You read all of that?”
“Yes.”
“Your girl is scared, Mama.”
“Of course she is. But we need to find out the facts so we know what to do next.”
“Dev, I don't know squat about daughters. I don't know anything about raising children. It's a fact that causes me grief if I ponder it.”
“You wanted to have children?”
“Yeah, a wife, kids, and a quiet country home. I wanted that since I was twelve.”
“But why didn't you…”
“Miss Dev, that story is for another time. I want to talk about horses.”
“Horses?”
“You told me that last week Renny showed you how to tame a wild horse.”
“Yes, he did.”
“What was the basic, underlying principle when working with an unbroken horse?”
“She's scared to death and will always try to do what seems safest to her.”
“You learn quick.”
“Thank you.”
“About horses.”
“Are you saying daughters are like horses?”
“It seems to this old bachelor that Dee is so scared of being pregnant, of being a single mommy, of disappointing her mama and her Lord that she will always bolt for anything, and maybe anyone, that offers her safety. She spied daylight at the gate, and she ran. Don't get mad at her for being so scared.”
“I'm not mad at her. I'm mad at me. I didn't handle it very well.” Dev let out a deep breath. “OK, I am upset with her some.”
“It's OK to be mad. You just got to turn it loose. It will eat away at your soul if you don't. I don't need to know anything about your divorce. But you've got to turn that loose too.”
“You have lots of advice today, Mr. Tallon.”
“Yeah, I don't know what's got into me. When he was sixty-one, my daddy had a stroke. He was in and out of consciousness for six weeks. W
hen he was awake, he had such anxiety. I don't know if his kidneys were failin' or what, but he hallucinated some. So my mama and me spelled each other off sittin' by his side, tryin' to comfort him when he came to.”
“Did your brother help out?”
“Porter was in a Mexican jail that year.”
“That must have added to the stress.”
“It was toughest on Mama. She figured she was losin' him, and she just knew she couldn't survive a day without her man. She got married when she was sixteen, and he was everything to her. But this night, about three in the mornin', his eyes opened up, and he recognized me. ‘Butch,’ he said…”
“He called you Butch?”
“I had short hair back then. He always called me Butch. Anyway, he signaled for me to lean closer. ‘You got to forgive me for sellin' Brownie.'”
“Your dog?”
“My horse.”
“You had a horse named Brownie?”
“Yeah, not much of a name, was it?”
“I rode a horse thirty-five years ago named Brownie.”
“Yeah, it's a common name. It was a common horse. I had forgotten all about it, actually. When I was twelve, I came home, and Daddy had sold my horse.”
“That must have been quite a blow.”
“I got mad and yelled and screamed and called him horrible names that I would never repeat to you. I took off that night.”
“You left home?”
“I was back by chore time the next morning. Anyway, I was forty-two years old and sittin' by my dyin' father's bed when he asked me to forgive him for that. I told him I had forgotten all about it. He said it nagged at him almost every day of his life. He explained that he had been so worried about groceries that he took an easy way out. Then he told me to fetch his wallet out of the hospital dresser.”
“He wanted to pay you back?”
“I tried to dissuade him, but he would have no part of it. He shoved a twenty dollar bill in my hand and said, ‘Butch, for my sake you have to take this money.’ So I took it. I still have that twenty. I'll carry that to my grave, I imagine. After that night Daddy had two peaceful weeks until he slipped into heaven. I promised myself never to carry guilt that long. The reason for this long, windy story is to encourage you to get this settled up with Delaney before it becomes a habit.”
Stephen Bly's Horse Dreams Trilogy: Memories of a Dirt Road, the Mustang Breaker, Wish I'd Known You Tears Ago Page 53
