She laid it back down on the table as her eyes started to well when a voice behind her said, “I think photography will soon make painting extinct.” It was Sara Beth.
“I guess I’ll just be a dinosaur,” countered Alex.
As the rain let up they all drifted outside and Tom started the cookout. Annie and Alex hung back in the kitchen, not talking about anything in particular, avoiding any discussion of Jesse. Millie joined them for a while.
“I meant to say congratulations on your marriage,” said Alex, “though I think congratulations is not the proper word for the bride.”
“Thank you.” Millie smiled graciously. “Your turn next!” She patted Alex on the shoulder. “I saw the retreat Jesse built y’all up at Boyd. It’s lovely there, isn’t it?”
Alex didn’t say anything. She supposed people would know soon enough. Annie glanced at her. “It’ll work out.” She spoke quietly so Millie couldn’t hear. “He’s not going anywhere.”
They brought some salad bowls outside along with plates and cutlery. “Lordy, Ladilex is doing her female stuff again,” quipped Cal. “Will wonders never cease?”
“You know some ranchers would fire you, Cal, for a remark like that,” she retorted.
“Yeah,” said Garrett, “but we ain’t workin’ for some ranchers.”
Alex crossed her arms. She watched J.J. flipping through the pages of the book she had given him. The wind blew her hair and for a moment she shivered.
“Go get a jacket, Alex,” advised Annie, “it’s a cool day.”
She wandered back inside and found Garrison and Millie kissing, shook a finger at them and got Tom’s jacket off a peg. “So the honeymoon’s not over, I see,” she said to Garrison.
“No, ma’am, and no intention of it ever being over!”
Millie raised an eyebrow at her as they went back out. Alex stood for a second in the empty house, shrugged the jacket further onto her shoulders and pulled it tight, then thrust her hands into the pockets as she stepped outside. Her finger jagged in a hole.
“Tom,” she said with a smile, “you have that same tear in your pocket you had three years ago!”
“Tell the wife!”
Alex felt something in the hole and pulled it out. She looked at it, thought she was seeing things or it was some sort of joke, turned it over in her hands and kept staring down at it. She walked off toward the swing at the far end of the yard and sat down.
“You ain’t very friendly,” Cal called after her.
There was no reply. Alex ripped open the letter and read, turning the pages over slowly as she swayed on the swing.
“Oh, whatever is she doing? Jesse, go get her to come and eat,” said Annie, with not a little contrivance.
Jesse rose from the table and looked over at Alex, puzzling at what she was reading. He sauntered down to the swing. “Want a push?” he asked.
“This is from you to me,” she said looking up. “It was in Tom’s pocket. What was it doing in Tom’s pocket?” They stared at each other for a moment. “Jess?”
“I-I have no…” He stopped. “No. I gave him a letter to mail for me once, when he was going into town. Do you think he forgot?”
“He certainly wouldn’t have not posted it on purpose.” She looked back at the letter. “Well, that’s two now out of three. Huh.” She folded it up and shoved it back in its envelope. “Don’t say anything to him. He’d be devastated if he knew, if he thought—you know—that he had been the cause, been instrumental...”
“Yeah. I know.” He watched her swing for a moment. “Come on.” He extended his hand to her. “Everyone’s waitin’.”
****
Alex couldn’t figure Jesse anymore, what his intentions were, whether he was staying or going. Between the ranch and her painting and his duties as foreman, there was just no time to talk to him alone. But he was still there, still at the ranch, and that was enough for now.
From her eyrie in the former servants’ quarters, she heard shouting and tried to see what was going on from the window. Rushing down the steps and outside, she just made out Cal and then saw a wagon with someone laid out in it. A group of the punchers was gathered about the wagon in which Garrett lay, one leg draped over the side, the other flat but in a shape no leg should be.
“Oh my goodness, what’s the matter, how badly is he hurt?” Alex went to Cal.
“Broke leg. Dang bronco throwed him, then stomped on him for good measure.”
“Garrett?” Alex walked over to the wagon. “How are you doing? Mind if I take a look?”
“I’m in real pain, Lady Lex. And I can’t afford to be outta work.”
“Who said anything about losing pay? Man gets hurt on the job working here we look after him. You know that.” She pulled herself up on the wagon. “Cal, go up to the house, please, and ask Wilson for a couple of bottles of whiskey. And tell Rose we need linen sheets cut into wide strips for binding. Coates?”
“Ma’am?”
“Go find Kenny and ask him to mix up some thin plaster if we have any. And tell him we need a stretcher out here and we’re going to need some sort of hook in the ceiling above the sick bay bed. Is there a sick bay?”
Someone said, “Not anymore. Sick bay apparently became the foreman’s room. Sign’s still on the door.”
Alex looked to see who had said this. It was a young puncher with a chubby cherub face, and a shock of white-blond hair falling from beneath his hat. Alex almost laughed. She felt as if she might be looking at Jesse when he was that age. “When did you arrive?” she asked.
“Arrive? You mean, sign on, Ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“‘Bout a week ago.”
“How the hell old are you?” She was tempted to say, “son,” but stopped herself.
“Sixteen.”
“Crikey, Garrett.” Alex turned back to the patient. “I must be getting old.” She heard a laugh like croaking come from the older man. “Have you a knife? We’ve got to cut his pants.”
It was then she noticed Tom, Jesse and Annie had arrived with a stranger, and were standing off at a distance watching. She didn’t wave or acknowledge them, but saw Cal come out of the house, stop to talk with them a moment, and come on carrying the whiskey.
“Rose is on her way with the linens,” he said coming up. “How we doin’?”
“Cut him out of his pants.” Alex stood up again on the wagon and walked down its length. “We have to get his boots off, too.”
“Jeez,” Garrett moaned.
“Yes, it won’t be easy. I’m not going to lie to you—it’ll hurt like hell. Get him drunk,” she advised Cal.
“Can I join him?”
“You do and you’ll be riding for other wages.”
She looked again at the visitor with the Yosts and Jesse. He was an older man, with a neatly trimmed moustache, and well dressed, yet dressed for riding. She thought he looked weathered but handsome, fatherly in a way, yet also stern and business-like. She wondered why Annie was with them and figured it must be some relative.
Cal had a knife and was slitting Garrett’s pants leg while Garrett guzzled the whiskey, half propping himself up to swallow. Coates came out with Kenny and a stretcher.
“Crikey,” Alex said again, looking over the exposed break. “It’s swelling up. We need ice. You, kid, what’s your name?”
“Beesley.”
“Beastly...”
“Alex!” Cal admonished.
“Go up to the house, see if Rose has the linens ready and get as much ice as you can carry. Cal, you’re going to have to get this bone back into place.”
“Why me? Why do I get the doctoring jobs here?”
“Because you’re strong and I can’t do it. You can do it quickly so it won’t hurt him so much. Though I have to tell you again, Garrett, it’s going to hurt something awful.”
Cal looked at the break. He raised a questioning brow at Alex who had positioned herself opposite.
“Wait for the ice to
numb it, I guess,” she said.
“How come you know so much, Ladilex?”
“I don’t know. David broke an arm once. I guess I just took it all in.”
Tom came over. “You got everything under control?”
“I think so.” Alex got to her feet for a moment. “Who’s your guest?”
“Old friend. You’ll meet him tomorrow, if you have time.”
“Ah, here’s Beastly.” She placed the chunks of ice around Garrett’s leg and they waited a few minutes before Cal quickly pulled off Garrett’s boot, then smartly pushed the bone back into alignment. Garrett let out a roar of pain but slugged back more whiskey. Alex shuddered in sympathy, then got down from the wagon to let the men ease the patient onto the improvised stretcher.
“Jess said they should put Garrett in his room—that he’d move back to the bunkhouse for a spell,” said Cal.
Alex followed them into Jesse’s quarters and watched as they maneuvered Garrett onto the bed. “Better take his pants completely off. I have to plaster up the leg. It’s better than splinting it, and he’ll be able to hop around in a few days. Plus it’ll heal better.”
“You gonna see me undressed?” Garrett slurred.
“I have a brother if it’s any consolation.”
“You see him in the altogether?”
“No. Look, just keep drinking and forget about it. I’m only going to see your naked leg, Garrett. Anyway, as I recall, you saw me in my chemise so we’re equal.”
She faced the wall while they stripped off Garrett’s pants. That’s when she noticed the photographs. Jesse had tacked some of the old photos of the two of them to the wall. He had to have done it after Saturday since the ones she had seen then were now here. It stunned her for a moment.
“Now what, doctor?” Cal asked.
Alex turned back and noticed Rose and Kenny waiting outside. “Now we plaster him up!” She took the bucket of soft plaster, and the bundle of linens from Rose. “Roll your sleeves up, Cal, we’re going to have fun. The rest of you can get back to work please! Beastly included!”
“Alex! Y’all are gonna make that kid real unhappy. He’s already having a hard time with the punchers.”
“Yes, and I bet you’re the worst of the lot!”
She thought then of what it must have been like for Jesse at fourteen, a young boy forced to leave his family, a boy with a chip on his shoulder ordered to eat dust out at drag and all the time trying to be a man, trying to be one of “the boys.” Cal stared at her, waiting, looking as if he might be reading her mind.
She brought herself back to the present and looked again at Garrett. “I think we have to shave his leg you know.”
“What?” Garrett croaked.
“Maybe not. Maybe we put the linen on first, then the plaster on other linens and just bind. All right, let’s go.”
A few minutes later there was uncontrolled laughter between the three of them. Garrett was so drunk he could no longer speak at all, and Alex and Cal were covered in plaster mix, mostly thrown on each other.
Jesse walked in. He looked from Alex to Cal, then at Garrett. Alex tried unsuccessfully not to giggle. A thick strand of hair hung down with a lump of plaster in it, like a bauble on a cap. Jesse looked her up and down.
“What’s up?” he asked mildly. “Place smells like a durned distillery.”
Oh here it comes, Alex thought, he’s going to ask me if I’ve been drinking. She said somewhat belligerently, “I thought you were leaving.”
Their eyes locked for a moment. “Well, I figured you had kept your promise about never takin’ off the bracelet, so I better keep my promise to you.”
“About staying a month?”
“No, Alex, the promise about never leaving you.”
****
There was a positive bounce in her step as Alex came toward the group the next morning, a stack of papers in her hand. She stopped every so often to look something over, then walked on again. Glancing up at the Yosts, she quickly took in Jesse and the visitor, then went back to the papers, before the corral caught her eye.
“Garrison, cut those two paints and the two Appaloosas out for me and I’ll run them up to Wind River.”
“Oh, now, Lady Lex, you don’t want to be doing that,” he moaned. “I had my eye on that Appaloosa.”
“Cowpuncher on an Appaloosa just looks darned silly, Garr. Cut them out!”
“Lady Lex—”
“Two paints, two ’Loosas, Garrison!” she said good-naturedly.
“But...”
“But nothing. Look at that grulla. That’s a puncher’s horse for sure. What are the ’Loosas doing here anyway? They’re pretty far from home. I may send them back to the Nez Perce where they belong.”
“I only see one Appaloosa,” Garrison lied.
Alex went over and spoke to Garrison so the others couldn’t hear. She tried hard not to laugh and to be stern with her old hand but it wasn’t working. “I want those four horses, Garrison,” she said turning the pages and coming over.
“Alex,” Tom started.
“We’re going to have an American company!” She smiled looking up at him. “Oh, hello Annie,” she said as if she’d just seen her friend.
“Alex,” Tom started again, “this here’s Norris Beckett come up from Texas. He’s—”
“Goodness!” Alex took a step back. “Isn’t that… Aren’t you the… Weren’t you the boss of the trail outfit that started this ranch?”
Tom laughed and Jesse rubbed the back of his neck, trying to keep a straight face.
Beckett smiled and put out his hand. “That’s right. Only we brought up Longhorns. I see you’re moving over to Herefords.”
Alex shook his hand, noting he pronounced it “Hurfords” as Jesse did, and almost laughed. “Well,” she replied, “that was my manager here. But I think it was a good decision.”
“Oh, I can see the sense in it. Fine looking beasts too.”
“Alex, Norris is thinking about going in with an English outfit who want to back a ranch down in Texas. We all thought you might know some of the names involved?”
“Maybe we could talk over dinner tonight,” Annie put in. “Mr. Beckett is staying with us. Why don’t you come over?”
“Oh, Annie, you’re always cooking. Rackham complains she does nothing but salads and chicken for me. You all come over to me—the four of you,” she clarified, “and give Rackham a field day!”
****
It was strange to be dressing up in finery for a dinner party. Strange to be giving a dinner party, entertaining guests and using the social graces to which she had been bred. When Oliver was alive, Alex disliked intensely the rich foods the cook had prepared, and all the formality of his parties. But today, she and Rackham had settled on a meal of venison, of which they still had some hung, with a trout pâté to start. Then Rackham insisted on whipping up ice creams for dessert now that they had the milk cow. This would definitely put weight on the girl, the cook had remarked.
Jesse waited downstairs and watched Alex carefully descend, shimmering like the moon on water, yet looking as if she were trying to remember what she was supposed to do. He didn’t have a chance to say how lovely she looked. The others arrived just then, and they all started chatting at once. It was pleasantries in the drawing room with sherry for Annie and bourbon for the men. Alex told Beckett how she had heard endless stories of the trail ride up from Texas when she was young, and Beckett had become something of a mythical figure to her, the way Jesse and Cal had told it.
“Well,” said Beckett laughing a bit, “they were pretty young punchers, quite wild for a time there. But they were good boys. Fiery in Jesse’s case, angry at being stuck out there at drag, and too much fooling around on Cal’s part. But they were good.”
They went into dinner where Alex had put Tom opposite her at the other head with Beckett to her right and Jesse to her left with Annie between her husband and Jess. She withstood the usual jokes about living on a ranch a
nd not eating beef, which completely astounded Norris Beckett. He kept repeating he couldn’t believe it, that they were having him on, until the venison was brought out, and that seemed to settle the matter. Alex briefly described her plan to buy out the remaining—British—shareholders and form an American company, if they were willing. “Though of course it’ll cost a bit, and it’s money I haven’t got at the moment,” she explained, “unless I sell some paintings.”
“You do the one of Calthorpe above your fireplace?”
“Yes.”
“Well, maybe you’d like to come on down to Texas and paint a few things for me.”
“I’d love to but I think my traveling days are over, though I have to admit Texas is rather tempting.”
“I haven’t been back for, what, sixteen-odd years now.” Jesse slipped his hand gently over Alex’s. “Must’ve changed a bit.”
Annie and Tom leaned back in their seats as if some nagging worry had been lifted from them both.
Norris Beckett sat a moment, then said finally, “Well, I been meaning to ask you, Lady Alex, if you knew any of these men who are forming this company. Not personally perhaps, but I understand your family may have connections with them.”
“Yes. Who are they?” She sat back so Wilson could remove her plate.
“One is a Jamison Rowe.”
“Oh, I met him once! Father—that is Frederic, had dealings with him in London. I-I’m not sure what to say. I mean, I can’t vouch for the man’s honesty but his business acumen should be all right if Frederic dealt with him. But if you want a character reference, that I can’t do. I was too young and uninvolved to know him any better than as a brief houseguest. Good shot, though, I seem to remember,” she added with a smile.
“Well, that’s something.” Beckett sat back in his chair as the ice creams were set in front of each guest. He waited as Alex took up her spoon. “What about a Lord Hayford—John Hayford?”
Alex’s spoon clattered to the plate, splattering ice cream on her dress. “How clumsy of me,” she said quietly, taking her napkin to rub off the stains. She suddenly felt suffocated, as if the room had become airless. “Is he here? In this country, I mean,” she finally said.
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