by Bonnie Leon
“Right. But we weren’t. It’s little more than a scrape.”
“It’s much worse than that. It looks ghastly.”
“Dr. Walker stitched it up and said I’ll be fine.” Reassuringly Daniel pressed his hand against Rebecca’s back.
“And Jim, what of him? His injuries are quite serious.”
“It’ll take him some time to come around, but the doctor said he’ll mend.”
“I must say, Cambria took it all quite well.”
“She’s lived ’ere all her life. Troubles come to everyone. She knows that, and she’s seen worse.” Daniel tried to sound nonchalant, but Rebecca wasn’t convinced. He picked up his pace slightly. “So what have you got planned for the day?”
“I was thinking of spending some time with Noble. He’s coming along quite nicely, but he needs more training.”
“Sorry I haven’t given him more time.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“Make sure someone’s out ’ere with you. Don’t want any accidents.”
Rebecca pulled her coat closed. “Chilly this morning.”
“That it is.”
“What are you going to be doing today?”
“I’m meeting with the bloke who’s putting in our wells. He said there’s no reason not to get started straightaway.”
“What happens if we don’t find water?”
“No worries. Jessop’s good at what he does. He’ll give it a fair go.” Daniel gave her arm a squeeze. “He’ll find water.”
“How long do you think it will take?”
“Don’t know. It’ll depend on how deep we have to go and whether he hits rock or not.” Daniel stopped. “I’ve got to go to the carriage house,” he said, kissing her lightly. “Have a good day, eh?”
“You too.” Rebecca walked toward the barn and headed straight for the stall with the new colt. Today he’d get his first look at the world.
“How are you doing, young fellow?” she asked when she reached the stall door. The mare lay in the hay; the foal stood in a corner. “Miss?” Feeling a pulse of apprehension, Rebecca opened the stall door and stepped inside. “Miss,” she said more insistently and dropped to her knees beside the mare.
She ran a hand over the animal’s neck. She was damp. The mare’s eyes were wide and her nostrils flared, but she didn’t lift her head.
“Daniel! Woodman!” Rebecca yelled, startling the colt. He bolted to the other corner of the stall.
Rebecca ran out of the barn and into the yard. “Daniel! Woodman! Please come quickly!”
The two appeared almost immediately. “What is it?” Daniel asked, running toward her, his limp slowing him down only slightly. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Miss. She’s sick or something!”
Woodman didn’t ask any questions. He headed straight for the stall. Rebecca and Daniel followed.
“Yais, yer fine,” Woodman said gently, kneeling beside the downed horse. Looking her over, he felt her face and neck. “She’s sweating—fevered. And ’er panting’s not a good sign.” When he finally stood he said, “I’ve seen it before.”
“Is she going to be all right?”
Woodman didn’t answer right away. “Probably not, mum.” He looked at the frightened colt. “Ya’ll ’ave ta see ta him. His mother won’t be lookin’ after him.”
“Are you sure? There must be something we can do.”
“No, mum. Sorry.”
Rebecca couldn’t stop the tears as she pressed her forehead against Daniel’s chest. “I know that things can go wrong, but why Miss?”
Daniel caressed her hair.
“Ya’ll ’ave ta hand-feed the colt, mum. He must be hungry.”
Rebecca straightened and swiped at her tears. “Yes. Of course.” She walked into the stall and laid a hand on the colt’s neck. He whinnied and tossed his head. “It’s all right. I’ll take good care of you,” Rebecca promised, gently running a hand over his withers and along his back. Her eyes went to the sick mare and she thought of Chavive. She’d hoped the mare was pregnant. What if something like this happened to her?
“Woodman, could you get a halter for him, please?” she asked, trying to sound composed.
Carrying a bottle of milk with a nipple, Woodman approached the colt. “It won’t be hard on ya,” he said, and the youngster bucked and ran to an opposite corner of its new stall. “Come on, now. Ya’ll like this.” Woodman’s voice was soothing as he moved closer to the young horse.
The colt stood still, staring at the man. When Woodman got close enough, he stroked the colt’s neck. “Ah, that’s a good lad. Yer a good fella. I’ll bet yer hungry, eh?” He worked the nipple into the foal’s mouth. At first the colt resisted, pulling away and tossing his head. Finally the taste of sweet milk changed his mind, and the foal started to suck. He tugged on the bottle as he ate, unconcerned about the milk dribbling from the corners of his mouth.
Woodman chuckled. “He likes it all roight.” With the colt still sucking, Woodman handed the bottle to Rebecca. “Hold it up so the milk flows.”
The colt pulled so hard, Rebecca had to grasp the bottle with both hands. “My goodness, he’s hungry.”
“Yais, a healthy animal.” Woodman grinned, but his smile faded as his eyes moved to the stall that held the mare. “We ought ta end her misery, mum.”
“You’re certain there’s no hope?”
Woodman shook his head. “I seen it before. She’s suffering.”
Rebecca hadn’t even considered the possibility of having to destroy one of her horses. She should ask Daniel. No. He has enough responsibilities. This is up to me. She kept her eyes on the colt. “All right. But let’s give her a couple more hours. If she’s no better then, we’ll do what we must.”
About the time the foal emptied the bottle, Daniel walked up. He hooked a lead onto his halter. “I’ll take him outdoors. Might be good for him to get some air and have a bit of a run.” He tried to lead the young horse, but the colt wouldn’t budge. “That’s the way, eh? Come on, now.” Daniel looped a part of the lead around the foal’s hindquarters and coaxed him forward toward the yard.
Rebecca walked beside him. “Thank you, Daniel.”
“Wish I knew how to help the mare.”
Rebecca rested a hand on the foal’s back. “I wish life were kinder.”
“Sometimes it seems we’ve nothing but trouble.”
Daniel and Rebecca walked the colt across the yard and down the drive before returning to the barn. “I’ve got to meet Jessop. You’ll be all right, then?”
Rebecca took the foal’s lead rope and nodded.
“Everything will be all right,” Daniel said.
“I pray you’re right.” She managed a small smile.
After leading the colt to its stall, Rebecca returned to Miss. She was still prostrate, puffing, and lethargic. Rebecca dropped to her knees beside the mare. “Oh, Miss, I’m sorry,” she said, stroking her neck. She heard the rustle of hay behind her and turned to see Woodman standing just inside the gate.
“Is she in a lot of pain, do you think?” Rebecca asked.
“Yais. Most likely.” His eyes rested on the horse.
“Will it be long before she dies?”
“Can’t say, mum. Could be soon.” He leaned on the railing. “Ya want me ta end it for her?”
Rebecca let her eyes rest on the struggling horse. She’d been so beautiful. She lay her hand on the animal’s neck and managed to nod yes to Woodman’s question. Without speaking, she stood and walked out of the barn.
Rebecca headed for the garden. She knew Mildred and Willa had been working there. Maybe she could help. Gardening might take her mind off what was happening in the barn. She’d always enjoyed working with plants. It quieted her.
Joseph sat in a playpen talking to himself and banging a toy against wooden slats. Rebecca bent and planted a kiss on the top of his blond head. “Hello, sweetie.”
He looked up at his mother, his face happy and expectan
t. Babbling nonsense, he reached out and touched her cheek. Rebecca grasped his hand. “You’re in a fine mood today.” With a butterfly kiss to his hand, she straightened and stepped toward the garden, her mind still with Miss. When would Woodman do it? Lord, please don’t let it hurt.
“Would you mind if I helped?” she asked.
“We’d love your help,” Willa said. She stepped up to Rebecca and circled an arm around her waist. “I’m so sorry about Miss. She’s a fine mare.”
“Woodman’s seeing to her now.”
“Can he help her?” Mildred asked.
“No. He’s going to . . . put her down.”
Mildred blanched. Willa’s face showed acceptance.
“I couldn’t stay.” Rebecca offered a weak smile. “You two and the moist earth have always been the best things for me.”
“Are you all right, dear?”
Rebecca shook her head no. “But I will be.”
“Sometimes these kinds of things can’t be avoided,” Willa said. She steered Rebecca toward the garden.
“I know. I just wish it had turned out differently.”
With a sigh Willa looked over the plants and flowers. “I’m afraid my garden patch is suffering from this awful drought. I’ve barely been able to keep the plants alive. We’ll probably have to replant when the weather changes.” She blinked back tears. “Bertram always acted as if he was doing me a great favor by providing me with water for the garden, but I think he was just as proud of it as I was.”
“It will rain,” Mildred said. “It has to sooner or later.” She dropped her sunbonnet back onto her shoulders. “Thomas is a wise man and he’s certain of it.”
“Oh, it will come, eventually.” Willa shrugged.
Rebecca took a hand shovel from a bucket jammed with garden tools. “I think I’ll work on some of these weeds.” She knelt and pushed the shovel into the soil next to a bushy green plant.
Willa rested her hands on her hips and looked beyond the yard toward the west. “I was thinking we ought to plant some cane grass. It will shield us and the garden from hot winds.”
“What’s cane grass?” Mildred asked.
“It’s a plant that looks something like grass, but it grows quite tall. You’d be surprised how well it works.”
“In that case, I think it’s an excellent idea.”
Willa placed a gentle hand on Rebecca’s shoulders. “I remember when you first arrived—all the hours we spent together working in the garden. We haven’t done so for a while now.”
“I know. I miss it too. But the horses have needed me and . . .” She felt a rush of tears. Forcing them back, she said, “Miss is such a fine mare.”
Mildred rested a hand on Rebecca’s back. “You look quite done in. Perhaps a nap is in order?”
Rebecca’s eyes roamed toward the corral that housed Noble. “I think I’ll spend some time with Noble. He needs more training, and I’d rather keep busy.”
Willa crouched beside a plant and sat back on her heels. “That makes absolute sense.”
“You’ve seemed a bit tired recently,” Mildred said. “The baby keeping you up?”
Rebecca pulled a weed and shook the dirt free. “Most nights he sleeps well.” She dropped the weed into a bucket. “But even when he does get me up, I don’t really mind.”
“You’re a fine mother, Rebecca,” Mildred said.
“Thank you, Auntie, but I’m afraid you’re inclined to see only the best in me. Sometimes I feel completely incompetent.”
“I did too. Still do sometimes,” Willa said.
A shot reverberated from inside the barn.
“Oh.” Rebecca pressed a hand to her chest. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Her eyes went to the barn. Whispering grasses moving in the wind were the only sound. She stood.
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” Willa said.
Rebecca nodded. “I think I’ll spend some time with Noble.” She walked toward his corral, blinking back stinging tears.
Rebecca moved the powerful stallion through a small herd of cattle. She needed him to cut a bullock out of the rest of the mob. One was balking, so she moved toward it. Noble seemed to know what to do. He’d learned quickly.
The calf bolted away, and Noble cut him off. Rebecca kept her hands lightly on the reins. He would need to learn to do this kind of work automatically.
Noble walked toward the young bull and then guided him toward a corner. Good, very good, Rebecca thought. And then once more the calf darted away and managed to get past her and the stallion. She leaned over and patted his neck. “That’s all right. We’ll get him next time.”
She maneuvered the horse back to the herd. They waded into a mass of swishing tails and dust. A flash of horns moved past, very close. Noble shuddered. With a shrill neigh, he reared. Rebecca leaned forward, grabbing for the saddle horn, but she missed it. She felt herself slipping.
Noble came down stiffly on his front legs and then bounded into the mob. Rebecca dropped from his back and hit the ground hard. All she could see were hooves and dust. She pulled her legs in close to her stomach and put her arms over her head.
Something thumped her hard in the back of her head, and an explosion of pain and light spread through her skull. She pushed to her hands and knees and tried to stand, but there was a melee of panicked, mooing animals all about her. Her head pounded and the world tipped. She fell.
Strong arms lifted her. “Mum? Mrs. Thornton!”
She looked up at a broad, brown face lined with concern.
“Ya all roight?”
“I think so.” She blinked, gritting her teeth against the pain in her skull.
“Yer bleeding. I’ll get ya ta the house.”
Rebecca wrapped her arms around Woodman’s neck and rested her head against his shoulder. When they reached the porch, she was only partially aware of concerned voices. Woodman lay her on the settee in the sitting room.
Willa leaned over her. “Oh, they’ve gotten you good,” she said, carefully examining the back of Rebecca’s head.
Mildred hovered, her face lined with worry.
Rebecca tried to smile to reassure her aunt, but as Willa probed she winced.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. But we’ve got to get this cleaned out. It seems your hair has done you a bit of good. It’s so thick I dare say the animal’s hoof only caused modest damage.”
Lily handed Willa a bowl of water with a washcloth and a towel. “She’ll ’ave a headache though, that’s for sure.” She smiled. “Ya scared us, mum.”
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said, pushing herself upright. Her head throbbed. “I was working with Noble and I think a horn grazed him. He startled and reared. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground.”
“Well, it will be the last time you do that,” Mildred said sternly. “A woman wasn’t meant to train horses. I knew all along this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Auntie, men have their share of mishaps as well,” Rebecca said, grimacing as Willa continued her ministrations.
“I must agree with Mildred,” Willa said. “You’ve taken on too much. Noble is a fine horse but a bit skittish for a woman.” She straightened. “Now, I’m sure Dr. Walker would advise you to remain indoors for a couple of days and remain quiet.” She returned to cleaning the wound.
Thomas stepped into the room. He glanced at the drops of blood on the floor and then at Rebecca. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“I wondered what all the fuss was about down here.” He moved to Mildred’s side.
“These women are making too much of a fuss,” Rebecca said.
“Ya could ’ave been hurt real bad, mum. Ya weren’t ta work the horse without someone ta help,” Woodman said.
“Yes. I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“That’s right, it won’t. I’ll see to it,” Mildred said, her hand resting against the base of her throat. “You nearly scared me to death, Rebecca.”<
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“I’m sorry, Auntie. But accidents happen.”
“That doesn’t mean one shouldn’t be more careful. It’s as if you’re asking for trouble.”
“Why would you say such a thing? Of course I’m not.”
“We know,” Willa said gently. “All right now, I think the bleeding has stopped, and I’ve managed to get the dirt out. You ought to rest for a while, dear. I don’t know what Daniel will say when he finds out.”
“Seems we’ve had a rash of accidents lately,” Mildred said.
Rebecca suddenly felt dizzy. “I think I ought to lie down.” She pushed up on shaky legs.
Rebecca allowed herself to be helped up the stairs to her room, where she lay on her bed and closed her eyes. She knew Daniel would be shaken by the accident. It was nothing but carelessness on my part, she told herself. But she couldn’t help but think of her aunt’s statement about a rash of accidents. The troubles had started with the fire and then her getting sick. And since then it seemed there had been a spate of difficulties just as her aunt had said.
Rebecca rolled onto her side and stared at the window. Apprehension welled up. What would be next?
Daniel loaded the last bag of feed into the back of the wagon. “Ready to go, then?” he asked Rebecca.
“I suppose.” She glanced about the town, her eyes falling on Elle’s Dress Shop. “I had a good visit with Elle.”
“And how is she?”
“She’s fine, but business is down. The drought’s forced people to choose between what’s truly necessary and what isn’t. I guess clothing fits into the isn’t category.” Rebecca looked east at heavy clouds building. They seemed to tumble across the flats toward Thornton Creek. “But it looks like there’s a change coming.”
Thunder rumbled over the grasslands. “Yep. Looks like we’re in for a bit of weather.” Daniel gave Rebecca a hand onto the seat, then climbed up and settled beside her. Lifting the reins, he said, “Glad you came along. Nice to have good company.” He grinned.
“We ought to do this more often. I’ve enjoyed myself. Perhaps we can find more time for days like this.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be making another trip in a couple of weeks.”
