“Okay,” I said. “She saved me, Morgan.” I could feel that I was a little disoriented, too, that perhaps I was suffering from the onset of hypothermia. “Into the house,” I said.
“Where are your boots?” she asked.
“The boy is wearing them.”
Morgan helped me up the steps and in through the back door. The house felt flat-out hot. But that was good. I knew that was good. My feet ached like mad as blood and feeling tried to creep back into them. Morgan took me into the living room and sat me in front of the stove.
“The horse,” I said.
“Okay, I’ll go out now.” She stroked my face, her hand feeling so warm. “You rest.”
“Make sure you get all the ice out of her feet. Get her legs good and warm and rub them down with liniment, put her in a closed stall, put a blanket on her, give her some grain.”
Morgan patiently listened, almost smiling. “Okay, sweetie.”
“Rub her ears a bit, the tips.”
“All right.”
I drifted off to sleep.
I awoke to voices. Zoe was lying with me on the sofa, her back to me. I stroked her fur and felt her breathing. Gus’s doctor, a fat man named Pep Clayton, was standing not far from me talking to Morgan. I sat up and Zoe moved to the floor. Clayton and Morgan turned to me.
“Pep,” I said.
“John.”
“Am I dead or do I just feel like it?”
“You just feel like it.” He put a hand on my face. “You’re fine. You no doubt saved that young man’s life.”
I tried to stand, but felt weak. I noticed that my feet didn’t ache. Someone had put thick socks on me.
The doctor put a hand on my shoulder and pressed me back into the sofa. “You need to rest.”
“How’s David?” I asked.
“He’s resting in the other room,” Morgan said.
“He could be worse,” Clayton said. “He’ll make it through this just fine.”
“What about his feet?” I looked at Clayton’s eyes.
“He’ll lose a few nails, but no toes. His fingers are all right.” Clayton sat beside me. “How’d you make it through the night?”
“I took him into a cave. He was soaked and it was closer than the house. It’s warmer in there. His belly was like ice.”
“He’s pretty weak. He’ll probably sleep for a while. I told his father and Morgan that they have to keep him warm, massage his limbs, keep the blood flowing.”
“How’s the horse?” I looked at Morgan.
She smiled at me. “The horse is fine.”
“Is David asleep now?” I asked.
Morgan nodded.
Gus came into the room. “I’m glad to see you in one piece,” he said.
“Me, too.” I looked at the window and at the bright light outside. “What time is it?”
“Nearly two,” the doctor said.
“Two,” I repeated. I was still trying to wrap my mind around all that had happened. “Where’s Howard?”
“He’s pretty shaken up,” Gus said. “He’s sitting in there with David. Pamela’s in the kitchen. She’s making soup, she says.”
I looked at the fire in the stove. It was hissing and popping with a new log. I reached down and rubbed Zoe’s head.
“Well, I’ll be going,” Clayton said. “There’s not much else for me to do around here.”
“Thanks for coming out here, Pep.”
“I’ll see you out,” Morgan said and walked away with the doctor toward the front door.
“Is Bucky here?” I asked Gus.
“No, once he saw you were both here, he left.”
“Is he okay, Gus?”
“I think so,” Gus said. “You want something to eat?”
“Not really. I’d like some tea.”
“I’ll get it.” Gus stopped and looked at me for a couple seconds. “You sure you’re all right?”
I nodded. “Why?”
He shook his head. “Warm enough?”
“I’m good.” I watched him walk away. I pushed myself to stand and made my way to David’s room. Howard was sitting on a straight-backed chair beside the bed. David was bundled in blankets, one of them electric.
Howard quickly got up when he saw me. “God, John, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“How is he?”
“Good, I think. He looks awful, but the doctor was positive about everything. His toes are the worst.”
I scratched at my head. My skin felt dry everywhere. I knew I needed to rest, but I really wanted a hot shower.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Howard said.
It was then that I realized I was angry with the man and not in a generous mood, because, without thinking, I said, “You’re sober enough now to be scared.”
Howard froze. He didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t imagine what I would have said had I been him.
“You drink like that all the time or was that just your party face?”
“John, Pamela and I—”
“Pamela and you what?”
“Pamela’s young.”
“And what’s your excuse?”
“John, I—”
I stopped him. “Why is she here? Did you think David was going to want to meet her? What was that all about?” He tried to speak again. “Listen,” I said, “I don’t want to hear it right now. Maybe never, I don’t know. I want your son to be well. I want him to see you sitting by that bed when he opens his eyes and I don’t want Pamela in this room.”
“You’re being a little harsh,” he said.
“A little harsh?” I asked. “I must be tired or you must be misreading me because I mean to be very harsh. I’m going to get some rest.” With that I turned away from him and went into the kitchen.
Pamela was stirring her soup at the stove. Gus was just pouring the hot water into the mugs. Pamela was thankfully covered in a sweater.
“You’re up,” she said.
“Yes.” I looked at her and she could see the fight still in my eyes and she shrank away slightly. “Pamela, you seem like a nice person. I don’t have anything against you and I don’t know much about you. But I’d like you to somehow find a way to leave this ranch, with or without Howard as soon as you can.”
I don’t know what I expected, but her reaction must have fallen within the range of my expectations, because I was not surprised when she ran out of the room, holding her face in her hands, weeping.
The coyote came to me and jumped up against my leg. I gave her head a pat and looked at the stump of her leg.
“You want milk?” Gus asked.
“No, thanks.”
“Morgan’s out checking on the horses.”
“That’s good.”
Morgan stepped into the shower with me. I wanted to grab her and kiss her, but I was too wiped out. She rubbed my shoulders and then began to lather up my head with shampoo.
“That feels good,” I said.
“I love your hair,” she said.
“What’s left of it,” I said.
“You’re crazy. You’ve got nothing but hair up here.”
“Very funny.”
“Gus told me what you said to Pamela.”
“I feel a little bad about that,” I said. I put my face to the spray to rinse my eyes of shampoo. “I suppose I was venting.”
“I suppose.”
“Is she still crying?”
“Probably. I don’t know. I believe that Howard is getting ready to leave with her.”
I nodded. It was not an unexpected turn. What else could he do? He was planning to marry the woman so he couldn’t very well send her alone on her way. Still, I was hoping he’d stay around for David.
“You’ve been in here long enough,” Morgan said. “Time to get out, eat something, and go to bed.”
“Yes, doctor.”
“First, I’m going down to talk to Howard.”
“First, you’re going to let me dry your body and get you d
ressed.”
“If you insist.”
The hot shower had cooled me off somewhat. I felt bad for what I’d said to Howard and Pamela, but still I thought it would be better if they left. I made my way downstairs and into the den where they were slowly packing.
“Howard, Pamela,” I said. I considered apologizing.
Pamela said nothing, but she tugged at the bottom of her shirt that barely covered her navel. She stuffed a sweater into her bag.
“We’ll be gone soon,” Howard said, coolly.
“I’m sorry things worked out this way,” I said.
“It’s not your fault,” Howard said. “It’s certainly not your fault.”
“Pamela, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” My words might have been sincere, but they weren’t true.
“Do you want your scarf in the bag or out?” she asked Howard.
“Out,” he said.
I backed away, imagining that Howard’s request was not merely a response to Pamela, but a command to me. I looked down the hall at David’s door. I walked to it, waited a few seconds, then walked in. David was asleep but awoke as I stood there. I moved to the foot of his bed.
“Warm enough?” I asked.
“Too warm,” he said.
I reached down and picked up the control for the electric blanket. It was set on ten. “Maybe Gus was planning to serve you for dinner. I think I can just turn this off now.”
“Thank you,” he said.
“You bet. How are you feeling?”
“My toes still hurt,” he said. “But not as much. I believe that’s supposed to be a good sign. Gus told me that. Gus told me everything. I’m sorry.”
I just looked at him, not sure what he was talking about. “Sorry?”
“Sorry for running out like a stupid child and causing everybody to worry.” He closed his eyes for a second. “Sorry I made you come out there and have to save me. I feel like such a jerk.”
“Hey, you would have come out after me,” I said. “You were upset. That’s understandable. And apparently, you shouldn’t drink.”
“I knew that before.”
“Your father’s packing to leave,” I told him.
“Good.”
“Well, you get some more rest. I’m going to do the same thing.”
In the kitchen, the puppy was bouncing around, roughhousing with Zoe. The little girl growled, leaned back, and lurched forward. I looked over at Gus and Morgan sitting at the table.
“Somebody please turn the puppy over,” I said.
“She’s only playing,” Morgan said.
“Gus, flip her over.”
Gus got up, walked to the coyote, kneeled down and flipped her onto her back. Emily kicked, twisted and tried to reach over his hand to bite him.
“Hold her until she doesn’t squirm,” I said.
He did. The coyote surrendered, became soft under Gus’s hand and he slowly let her up.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Are you all right?” Morgan asked, a kind of accusation.
I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, you two. I’m just tired and worried about everything too much.”
“No, you were right about Emily,” Gus said. “I’ve been lazy about the training. I need to turn her over more and take her food away like you told me.”
“Gus, you’re doing fine. Really.”
Morgan asked me if I wanted tea.
“Is there any coffee?”
“I’ll make some,” Gus said. He opened the cupboard and took down the coffee beans.
“I just looked in on David. He was awake. He appears to be in pretty good shape.”
Morgan nodded and sipped her tea. “Did you tell him that his father is leaving?” she asked.
“I did. The news didn’t seem to bother him too much. I guess that’s a good thing. Where is Howard?”
“Having a drink?” Gus said, sarcastically.
“No, actually, he’s preparing to leave,” Howard said from the doorway.
Gus turned to the counter and ran the grinder for several seconds, then a couple more seconds.
“I’m sorry all this happened,” I said. It was an expression of dismay and not an apology.
“Yeah, me, too,” Howard said, softly. Neither was he apologizing. He had settled into anger; his jaw was fixed. He tossed a glance back to Pamela who hovered at his shoulder.
“Have a good trip,” Gus said. “The roads can be slippery.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Morgan said, seeming to suck the statement back in once it was out.
Howard didn’t say anything. What could he say? I followed them to the front door where they had already placed their bags. I reached out to shake Howard’s hand and he reluctantly took it.
“We’ll talk soon,” I lied.
TWELVE
DAVID’S LIMP was still noticeable, but he claimed to feel little pain. He had stopped taking the pain medication prescribed by the doctor and after a few trips into town to have his toes examined, he was satisfied or at least convinced that he was fine, however repulsed he was by his toes’ appearance, the missing nails and the off color. He was well enough to have a few more lessons on horseback and in all seemed in good spirits. We hadn’t again talked about that night in the cave and nearly three weeks had gone by.
Gus had taken to sleeping late regularly. He’d appear at about eight-thirty, sit with Morgan, and have coffee and toast. I was glad Morgan was there for him.
I’d managed to get myself back on my training schedule. A couple of young colts and a filly had been dropped off. Felony was almost ready for pick up. After giving Duncan Camp’s daughter a couple of lessons on him, I was feeling confident about letting him go. And finally, I’d taken to riding Pest, the mule. He was a good ride, if a tad small for me, but he was stout and smart, good on the steep and liked the activity. When I rode him, he was likely to stay put in his stall or a paddock longer.
Morgan and I rode every day at midday, leaving David to muck the stalls and have lunch with Gus. One day we rode out past the cave and looked down at the desert. The weather had turned unseasonably warm, as Weather Wally liked to say, and we had taken off our jackets. Morgan, sitting on her horse Square, was slightly above me on Pest.
“I could get used to this,” Morgan said.
“Used to what?” We were crossing the high meadow on way back.
“Being above you like this.”
“Well, when you put it like that.”
“John, do you think David likes me?”
“Sure,” I said. “Why do you ask that?”
“He’s always been quiet around me, but lately, I don’t know. He’s even been different around you.”
I nodded. “That whole thing with his father must have been plenty embarrassing.”
“Yeah. And I suppose all his toes do is remind him.”
As we rode back, I thought about David. It was stupid that his kissing me while delirious should have made either of us feel strange, but of course it did. I tried to convince myself that I was not bothered by having been kissed by a man. Maybe I tried too hard, as my trying made me feel as weird as the kiss. I cared for David. I might have said like a son, but he wasn’t my son. Before the kiss, I might have admitted to someone who asked that I loved him. Now, that word, that sentiment, was muddied. The part about the kiss that bothered me was that it did not feel bad, it was an expression of affection and I could feel affection. But it also was not that, as it was offered in blindness, in the dark of the cave and in the confusion of David’s disorienting condition.
“What are you thinking about?” Morgan asked.
“Nothing,” I said. I was glad I was not sitting on Felony at that moment. I’d have been halfway to town.
“You were thinking something.”
“I was thinking that I’d be a little lost without you here,” I said, which was true, but it wasn’t what I was thinking. “I never thought I’d need anyone again, bu
t I need you. Is that okay?”
“That’s wonderful, John Hunt,” she said.
At dinner that night we discussed the goings-on near the reservation. Morgan was rightly worried and I was trying to play it down without playing it down. Gus pushed his plate of nearly untouched salad to the center and leaned back.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” he said. “I don’t blame White Buffalo for not trusting the sheriff. What’s his name? Fucky?”
“Gus,” Morgan said. “Such language. Why the hell would you say some shit like that?”
Gus roared. David laughed as well and that was good to see.
“Why don’t you trust him?” I asked.
“He’s a cop for one thing.” He looked down at the floor, scratched the coyote’s ear. “And he wears that holster with no thumb-break snap.”
“What’s that?” David asked.
“It’s a piece of leather that wraps over the trigger and keeps the pistol in the holster,” I said.
“He thinks he’s a damn cowboy riding the range looking for desperadoes. He’s gonna mess around and shoot his own foot off.”
I nodded. I’d always considered Bucky to be all right, but I trusted Gus’s instincts and I couldn’t dismiss them out of hand.
“I’ve never shot a gun,” David said.
“That’s not a bad thing,” I said. “Nothing will get somebody shot faster than a gun.”
Gus drank some water and cleared his throat. “Guns ain’t evil,” he said. “They’re bad, but they’re not evil. The problem is that guns are easy. Any idiot can use one and any idiot can feel tough with one. I suppose guns are fine for hunting.”
“I don’t think I would be able to kill an animal,” David said.
“Somebody’s got to do it,” Gus said. “Killing isn’t hard. It only takes a second. It’s what comes after that’s hard.” He paused. “Sometimes.”
We sat around in a silent stew for a bit. Then I said, “Well, I say we go into the other room and play Scrabble and exercise some of those killer instincts.”
“You bet,” Morgan said.
“Right after David and I go move a couple hundred pounds of horseshit.”
In the barn, David and I set to work in different areas. The clear night had become chilly and we wanted to get back inside. I stopped as I wheeled a cart of manure past the stall David was cleaning. I silently watched.
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