by Cleo Kelly
She opened her eyes when he gently washed her face with the soft cotton cloth. “I am so sorry. I must have eaten something.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks as she struggled to rise.
He helped her stand and she struggled to gain the protection of some bushes before she lost her breakfast.
Propped against an aspen sapling, she trembled and wept.
“Can you make it to the valley? You’ll be better once you get there. It isn’t something you ate. It’s the altitude—altitude sickness. You came from flat sea level ground to the mountains and instead of taking you up the mountain a little at a time, as I did the children, we rode too high, too fast.”
She didn’t want to hear an explanation; she just wanted to sleep. She tried to push away from the tree and staggered as a headache burst full-blown into her head. “Can I just sleep?”
Baya carried her to a patch of grass among the boulders. “Sleep for a little while, but we need to get you home soon.”
The horses remained ground tied where he had dropped the trailing reins. They stood with heads down as they idly swatted flies with their tails.
Lifting Bonnie’s head to his thigh, he leaned back against the warmth of a rock and prayed a rattlesnake wouldn’t choose this one to sun himself on.
Bonnie slept instantaneously.
He pushed the hair off her forehead and adjusted the thick braid so she didn’t have to lie on it. Gently he took her hat and fanned away the flies. With his back against the rock, he closed his eyes and chided himself for being so shortsighted.
A half hour later, he was still trying to figure a way to bring down the cattle when Bonnie stirred and groaned.
He shifted cautiously.
She rubbed her head against him, making him catch his breath, and his eyes rolled closed. Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position.
Her white face worried him, but he remained silent.
“My head hurts so much,” she whispered holding her temples. “Will it go away?”
“In a day or two.” He stood up, stiffly moving his body to let all the old breaks and joints settle. “Can you ride down to the house?”
As she nodded, he relaxed. “I shouldn’t have taken you up so high. For most people it wouldn’t matter as much, but you’re from Florida. You haven’t adjusted yet to being over six thousand feet up.”
She walked unsteadily to the pinto and gathered her reins. As she mounted, the pinto promptly turned her head toward the mountains.
Baya gave a dry chortle. “That horse has a one track mind. She is determined to bring them home today, isn’t she?”
Bonnie tried to smile, but could only cling to the saddle horn.
Baya paused the sorrel mare next to the paint, to stare intently into her face. “Can you make it?”
With barely a nod, she pointed the pinto down the valley.
~*~
Bonnie slept upstairs while Baya held his head in his hands and pulled his hair. At every step, his efforts to keep the ranch functioning where thwarted. He looked at the clock on the wall. He really needed to move the cattle. He really needed to cut hay. But, he was tied to the house as long as Bonnie was ill. Where was he to get help? He couldn’t even go into town to see if there were hands needing work.
Pushing from the table, he walked back up the stairs to make sure she was still sleeping. From the doorway, he watched her and was upset all over again at the discomfort he’d caused her. She’d thrown up again when they got to the barn. When he finally got her upstairs, she had dry heaves.
Sobbing over the commode, she’d kept telling him how sorry she was, as if it was her fault. She’d insisted on washing her face and brushing her teeth before getting into the bed, though.
He ran a rough hand through his hair. How could he have been so stupid? He had been so careful with the children to make sure they adjusted to the mountains. He had just ignored the same need in his wife.
Walking over to her, he reached out and tenderly pushed the heavy hair from her face. “Bonnie.” He settled uneasily on the mattress, and she opened heavy lidded eyes and tried to smile.
“Bonnie, I have to get help.” He paused, waiting to see if she understood. When she nodded he continued, “I’ll go into town and see if I can hire someone to help.”
She rolled over to her side before pushing herself into a sitting position, and he could tell she was struggling not to cry again. “I’m so sorry.”
“Bonnie, it isn’t your fault. You’ll be fine, as soon as you adjust to the altitude. You’ll be fine tomorrow or the next day. If I can get the cattle down and west of us…” His voice petered out as his face lightened. “I’m so stupid!”
He smiled down at his wife. “I’ll mow the meadow before I put the beef in it. I can hay that meadow, and then give the mountain ones time to replenish before I mow them. I can work on my own today.” Guiltily, he touched her face. “But only if you can get through the day without me.”
“I’ll sleep.” Frowning, she watched him closely. “You’ll need help with the haying.”
He shook his head. “I’ll mow it, and we’ll take the baler over it tomorrow. I’ll need help, and by then you will be feeling well enough.” He leaned over to kiss her hair. “Just rest, Bonnie. We’re on a tight budget, but I don’t want that to be at the expense of your health.”
She smiled and struggled past him to stand up.
“What are you doing?” He was alarmed she needed to throw up again.
“I’ll get you a lunch and a thermos packed. I feel a little better. The sleep helped.” She moved toward the doorway, a little unsteady, and then turned back. “Is this going to work?”
He nodded as he followed her out the door. “Yep.” The answer covered more than the situation at hand. It was meant as a promise for their life.
Holding the banister rail in a tight grip, she started down the stairs.
Baya moved to slip an arm around her. “You don’t have to make me a lunch.”
“Well, cowboy, it won’t be much. But you’re not going back out there without food.” She rummaged in the refrigerator and came up with the makings of a sandwich.
He ransacked the cupboard for snacks. Turning with a bag of chips, he caught her clutching the countertop. Guilt ran through him as he watched her draw in deep breaths and gain control.
“I can wait to do the meadow tomorrow,” he stated grimly.
“No.” Her voice sharpened.
A smile uncurled inside him. Strength! She had it is spades.
She threw meat, cheese, lettuce and tomatoes on the bread. “I’m not taking time to toast this. There’s a bunch of grapes in the fridge, too. You could eat them and I’ll send iced water in the thermos. I think you should take a snack.” She turned to look at him and saw him clutching the chips. “How did I know you were a junk food fanatic?” she smirked.
“It’s the salt. We can’t work in the heat without it.”
The smile crinkled her eyes. “That’s some excuse. How many years did it take to perfect it?”
He wanted to kiss her for her brave effort. He accepted the sandwich she handed him with a sheepish grin.
She burrowed back in the refrigerator and came up with a chunk of Swiss cheese and the grapes.
Taking his meal to the table, he settled down to eat.
She came through the door, carrying ice tea for them both and sipped hers while he wolfed down the sandwich.
“Pretty good.” He mouthed around the sandwich.
“Don’t—” She caught herself and blushed.
He chuckled. “I know—don’t talk with my mouth full.”
“Hey, I can’t seem to help myself. The words just come out automatically. It’s like serving the food. I find myself doing it without thinking about it.” She sighed and took another sip of tea. “You’ve been very understanding. I always catch myself after I have done it. But I find myself wanting to dish up your portions with the plates.”
“I don’t mind, Bonnie. I f
ind myself doing it now, too.”
Her eyes took on a faraway look. Heaving another sigh, she shrugged a little. “Do you think they’re all right?”
“Yeah.” He gave a short reply and hoped it sounded confident. Draining the ice tea, he stood and carried the rest of the grapes back to the kitchen. He threw away the paper towel before gathering the thermos and chips. “Get some rest, Bonnie. I may need you tomorrow.” Leaning over, he brushed her cheek with his lips. “Take care, wife.”
She blushed and moved away. “Bye.”
~*~
From the windows over the sink, she watched him walk to the barn, and within a few minutes the roar of the tractor filled the silence of the valley. He drove it up the hill to the wagon shed where he kept the mower. She watched until he was out of sight, and then her head drooped, the weight of it pulling on her shoulders.
She was hindrance to him on this ranch. She didn’t seem able to contribute anything to help him. Shoving away from the sink, she took a deep breath. She could get him help. She stopped long enough to make a phone call before heading for bed.
14
It took two days to gather the hay he had mowed.
With Bonnie driving the tractor and him loading from behind the baler, they made three runs a day before stopping to cool off in the creek.
When Bonnie groaned under the weight of too much sun and sitting on the uncomfortable tractor seat, Baya teased lightheartedly, offering to trade places and let her stack the hay on the wagon behind the baler.
They probably could have done the job in one day if the linkage hadn’t slipped on the temperamental tractor.
They had both hunkered under the transmission to adjust bolts and springs so it would shift back into gear.
Bonnie still felt weak and unenergetic, though she hid the discomfort as much as she could. For lunch and supper, they ate only sandwiches and soups, but breakfast was huge.
“We can fudge on the noon and evening meals as long as we’re fortified with large breakfasts,” Baya told her.
By the second day, Baya was thankful the hay was in the barn.
Bonnie manned the winch, hauling the hay to the second story, and realized she wouldn’t be able to work on the morrow. She was hanging together by sheer force of will. Her job was to unhook the bales from the winch and return it to him.
~*~
He’d thought it was safer for her to work inside the barn, out of the sun. She already had sunburn but she refused to complain and kept working.
It was taking her an awful long time to return with the winch. He wished the barn weren’t such a monstrosity and he could see inside it. He climbed the bales of hay and vaulted into the upper story of the barn. Walking through the dusty filtered light he saw that she was struggling to stack the bales as she unhooked them. He moved faster. “What do you think you’re doing?” The words exploded out of him.
She turned too abruptly and the hay bale tumbled down, making her stumble away from the stack. “What does it look like?” she snapped. “I’m unloading hay.”
“You’re not supposed to stack it. That’s my job.”
“That’s only making more work for you. Yesterday when you did this job, you stacked it as we went. So am I.”
“You’re not doing any such a thing. I just want you out of the sun. Stacking them is too hard, these bales are green enough to be more than half your weight. Just drop them, and I’ll stack them.”
Hands on her hips and her face thrust forward, she glared at him. “I can do this.” The tone sounded both stubborn and furious, and a sudden picture of Hope jumped in his mind. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
He should’ve known that if she was going to do the job, it would be done right. “You man the winch and drop them. If any break loose we can put it on the second floor. I’ll take care of stacking. They have to be done in an overlapping pattern. It makes them stable and the bales won’t fall on the kids.”
She stared at him mutinously before dragging the winch to the double loft doors and lowering it to the wagon.
With a chuckle, he threw the bale over his head to top off what he had already stacked before following her.
She dropped to the wagon and was scrambling across the shifting bales muttering to herself.
He started to argue that she should stay in the barn when he noticed a trail of dust coming down the valley road. Tightening his eyelids into slits, he made out a gray truck.
The cable jerked under his hand.
“Pull it up, cowboy.” Her sunburned face glared up at him, and when he pointed to the road, she turned to see what he was pointing at.
“Yay!” Shrieking, she started down the bales, stumbling over the uneven, soft surfaces.
Baya vaulted off his hand from the loft to the hay wagon and followed her to the ground.
The gray truck had pulled up to park at the house, and almost immediately, the passenger side opened.
Dick stepped down, stretching his back; on the other side of the truck, Todd Rainwater did the same stretching exercise before slamming the door shut. He walked around the truck to lean against the fender.
Bonnie careened into Dick, giving him a hug. She grabbed his hand and held on. “I’m so glad you came. How did you get here so fast? If you’d told me, I would have had something baked. Oh, Dick, I am so glad you’re here. I need your help.”
Stopping a few paces away, Baya crossed his arms over his chest and glowered as Bonnie hugged the man again.
Todd grinned at Baya.
Baya rationalized he should be grateful to the old coot. Dick had, after all, introduced him to Bonnie. But he’d been around the man too many years to start trusting him now.
Dick’s gaze judged him from the top of his worn straw hat to his scuffed boots. “You look like something the cat dragged in.”
“You’re not looking much better, old timer.”
“I see you’re walking on your own again.” Todd’s whiskey-burred voice interrupted.
The tall man moved between Dick and Baya. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever recover from that last trampling.”
“This is the first I’ve seen of the valley. If I’d known it was this prime, I may have considered giving up my freedom,” Todd said.
“Where’re you working?” It was all Baya could think to ask, as his mind tried to come to grips with the surprise visit and not bristle at Todd’s comment, either.
“Cheyenne. It took a little doing for Dick to spring both of us or we would have been here a day ago.”
Bonnie was pulling Dick toward the house, so Baya and Todd followed along.
Fear mingled with jealousy as Baya watched the easy camaraderie the three shared. He knew Bonnie had chosen him; he knew she responded to him. Even so, he had seen Dick wow people—especially women—before.
Only Bonnie wasn’t some easy buckle bunny hanging about the rodeo.
He glanced at the man beside him. Todd was approximately the same height as Baya, but thinner. Ironically, he still had the loose-limbed body of a teenager. Thin, sharply defined shoulders, the man carried most of his muscles bunched in his biceps and forearms. He looked like the construction foreman he was.
Dick dragged him all over the country, having him build things out of what seemed like nothing, sometimes.
Baya had seen him repair a wooden chute once, out of pieces of scraps lying around. The way he handled wood one could see that he loved the feel, the texture and shape of it. For carpentry, it had looked like a piece of art when he was done.
The foreman stopped at the porch, looking around at the newly replaced lumber. He looked over the ceiling and the house. “You have a lot of rot?”
“Some.” Baya removed his hat and combed fingers through his hair before shrugging. “I don’t really know what I’m looking for. Bonnie wants to paint the house, but I say we have to wait.”
Todd nodded. “Someone took good care of it. These fieldstone houses are few and far between anymore.” As they walke
d inside, he drew in his breath. “Wow. You have a showcase here, son.”
Bonnie turned at his words. “Would you like to see the rest?”
At his nod, she led him through the living room, still crowded with her furniture.
Todd listened to her, nodding as she told him what she wanted to do. His hand rubbed knowingly over the surface of a bureau and gripped the knob of the maple bed she wanted in Daniel’s room.
Dick stood in the hallway and watched them. Shifting his gaze to catch the openly jealous look on Baya’s face, he grinned. “You’re gonna lose her to a fifty-year-old man if you don’t watch out, rider.”
“Nonsense, old man. Why are you here?” Baya tried to shrug it off and prove he wasn’t worried as Bonnie led Todd through the dining room.
The foreman’s deep, whiskey-softened voice murmured in answer to her chatter when she showed him the stairway. They walked up it, leaving Dick and Baya still standing in the foyer.
“You gonna let her lead him right into the bedroom?”
Baya scowled and the older man shook his head
“You know as well as I do that man has women loving him from sea to shining sea, and you are letting him waltz her right out from under yer nose.” Dick started stomping up the stairs after them.
Baya trailed along behind.
As he reached the hallway, Baya glanced out the window and noticed the half empty hay wagon standing in front of the barn.
Bonnie seemed to sense his gaze and turned. Her face was flushed with excitement.
“I have to get back to the wagon,” he said. “I’m afraid we’ll get a rain, and I’ll lose what we have.”
“Oh, I forgot! I’ll come back out to help—”
“No you won’t,” Dick interrupted her. “I’ll go. You called for help, after all. We’ll decide what to do when the wagon is unloaded.”
Baya stared at him open-mouthed. “You came to help?”
“What do ya think, that I came to picnic? I told her she could call me if she got into trouble, and she called.”
