Letter to a Lonesome Cowboy

by Jackie Merritt

  She leaned against the doorjamb and watched his tall, rugged body vanish into the dining room. She loved him. She would never love anyone so much again. How had all of this happened? Why had it happened?

  Tears dribbled down her face as she listened to men’s voices without being able to make out their words. Then a door slammed and everything was quiet. They had gone.

  She stumbled back to the bed and curled into a ball of pure misery.

  It was going to be the longest day of her life.

  Rand divided the men into groups of three, except for J.D. and himself. Rand figured that he and J.D. could cover twice the ground of the other men, and do it in half the time, to boot.

  Before the groups of men and horses separated, Rand, seated on Jack, gave a little speech. “You might think that Mack deserves a swift kick in the seat of his jeans for running off like this, but I’m damned worried about the boy and so should you be. He’s been out for most of the night. We lost the chinook and the temperature got down to freezing again. We all know it was colder than that in the mountains, and if Mack made it that far, he could be suffering from frostbite or hypothermia.

  “We’re going to have some help. I called Deputy Austin and he’s going to bring out anyone he can round up to give us a hand. I want Mack found before tonight. Give it your best shot.”

  He had already issued instructions on which group would search where, so he didn’t repeat himself on that. But he did on the signals. “Again, if you find him and he’s all right, fire one round. If you find him and he’s not okay, fire three. That’s it, let’s get going.”

  Rand, J.D. and Freeway headed for Granite Mountain.

  Suzanne was stunned by the arrival of a dozen vehicles pulling horse trailers around eight that morning. Men and women piled out of their rigs and began unloading horses. One man separated himself from the crowd and trudged to the bunkhouse. Suzanne hurriedly opened the door.

  “Hello,” she said, uncertainty written all over her face.

  “Hello, ma’am. I’m Deputy Reed Austin. You must be Suzanne, Mack Paxton’s sister.”

  “Yes. What…what is everyone doing out here?”

  “These folks volunteered to help find your brother, Suzanne, and if they aren’t enough, more will show up.”

  “But…that’s wonderful,” she said in amazement. “I really must thank them.”

  “Go ahead,” Reed said. “They’d all like to meet you.”

  “They would?” More cars were arriving; the yard was beginning to look like a parking lot.

  “I’m going to unload my own horse,” Reed told her. “Just walk up to anyone you want to talk to, Suzanne. Everyone here is friendly and concerned about both you and your brother.”

  “Thank you, I will.” She hadn’t known Rand had asked for additional help in looking for Mack. It made his disappearance more ominous and at the same time increased her hope. She was a bundle of raw nerves, but passing on her gratitude to these good people was a must.

  She walked among them, shaking hands, murmuring her thanks, listening to and accepting their upbeat comments. However many times she heard, “We’ll find Mack, Suzanne, don’t you worry none,” though, however much hope these people tried to impart, she noticed a cast of worry in their own eyes that nearly negated their smiles.

  A woman rushed up and took Suzanne’s hands. She was middle-aged, had bleached blond hair and wore enormous purple earrings. She began talking before Suzanne could even say hello.

  “I’m Lily Mae Wheeler. I won’t be joining the search party, but I had to drive out here and see you for myself. My, this must be such a strain for you to bear. I heard your brother is only fourteen, and that the two of you were caught out here in the storm. There were others like you, you know. The motels and restaurants in Whitehorn did a thriving business during the blizzard. Oh my, yes, it wasn’t all bad. They went on their way once the roads were plowed, of course.

  “But you and your brother stayed, and isn’t that curious? Of course, I did hear about poor George’s accident, and that you’ve been doing the bookkeeping for the ranch in his absence. If he’s not lying in that hospital bed, worried to tears about his job, I’ll be eternally surprised. You’re much prettier than George Davenport, and how could Rand Harding not notice? Not that Rand is a womanizer, you understand. I’ve been trying real hard to remember if he’s done more than take a woman to a movie, and I can’t put him and anyone in the area together. Strange, if you ask me.

  “Goodness, you must be in shock over your brother wandering off. Why on earth would he do that? Let me tell you something, Suzanne, this country can be very dangerous. There are people who’ve been lost for weeks, and there’ve been some who’ve died in the mountains. It’s no place for a youngster, I can tell you. I would never—”

  “Lily Mae!”

  Suzanne had been almost hypnotized by the steady stream of words coming out of Lily Mae’s mouth. She’d never heard anyone talk so fast or so long without a breath. And the things she was saying! Had she no tact whatsoever?

  “Winona,” Lily Mae acknowledged with a sniff.

  “Hello, Suzanne, I’m Winona Cobb.” A round little woman, with gray hair but of an indeterminate age, disengaged Suzanne’s hands from Lily Mae’s and took them in her own. “Don’t you pay one bit of attention to anything Lily Mae said.”

  “Well, really!” Lily Mae exclaimed, obviously put out. “What did I say that was so terrible?”

  “You know what you said, and if you say it again I’m going to put a hex on you.” When Lily Mae only glared at her, Winona let go of Suzanne’s hands, closed her eyes and raised her fingertips to her temples.

  Suzanne had never met two such peculiar women in her life. Winona was older than Lily Mae, Suzanne felt, but how much older would only be a guess. Under Winona’s purple parka Suzanne spotted strange jewelry strung around the woman’s neck—silken cords and leather strips attached to smooth polished stones, crystals and feathers. Goodness, she thought, did Winona actually believe she was putting a hex on Lily Mae Wheeler?

  Apparently Lily Mae believed it, because she pursed her lips and scurried away like a mouse into its hole. Winona opened her eyes. “Is she gone?”

  Suzanne nodded. Winona patted her arm. “Don’t look so scared, honey. Lily Mae’s got a tongue that just won’t quit, but she’s harmless enough.”

  Winona’s expression sobered. “That’s enough about Lily Mae. The reason I’m here is to tell you something. Give me your hand.”

  Suzanne didn’t know whether to give Winona her hand or to run. Her eyes darted past the rotund little woman. Men and women were mounting their horses, preparing to leave. She spotted Reed, who was doing something to the saddle on his horse, and he beckoned her over.

  “Would you excuse me for a moment?” she asked Winona, relieved to have an excuse to get away from her.

  Winona smiled. “Of course. But I must tell you what I know. I’ll wait here.”

  Suzanne hurried over to Reed. “That woman…” she began nervously.

  “Is psychic,” Reed said. “Maybe you don’t believe in that sort of thing, but most of the people around here have faith in Winona’s visions.”

  “She told that other woman, Lily Mae, that she would put a hex on her if she didn’t shut up.”

  Reed laughed. “I’ve never heard of Winona putting a hex on anyone before. She was probably kidding.”

  “Lily Mae didn’t think so. Reed, Winona said she came out here to tell me something. If she tells me something about Mack, should I believe her?”

  “I wouldn’t discount it, Suzanne.” He swung up into the saddle. “I saw you talking to her and could tell you were uncomfortable. Don’t be. That’s what I called you over here to tell you.” He touched the brim of his hat. “We’ll be going now.”

  Tears suddenly sprang into Suzanne’s eyes. “I will never be able to thank all of you enough.”

  “Finding your brother will be all the thanks we need.” He rode
away to join the others on horseback.

  Suzanne waved them off, then turned to see Winona watching her. Was it possible that she was a true psychic? If so, what had she come out here to tell her? Suzanne drew in a long, uneasy breath and walked back to her.

  “Reed advised you to listen to me, didn’t he?” Winona said.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Take my hand, Suzanne.”

  Suzanne laid her hand in Winona’s, and was startled when Winona closed her eyes. Winona’s eyelids fluttered and her facial muscles went slack. Suzanne had never seen anyone go into a trance. Was she watching one now? Shivers raced up and down Suzanne’s spine. Oddly, she no longer felt like running away from this woman. There was a connection between them, something almost spiritual bonding them.

  Winona began speaking. “I see a young deer. There’s something blue on his back, a bag of some kind. He’s darting this way and that. He’s very frightened. He’s cold, and hungry. The bag on his back is getting heavy, but he dare not shake it loose.”

  “Mack’s blue backpack!” Suzanne exclaimed.

  “Hush,” Winona murmured. “My vision has broadened, as it did early this morning. There are other deer, many of them, and they have come for the young one. But they are milling, confused and sniffing the air. Two bucks enter a grove of trees.” She said no more for several minutes, then she opened her eyes and looked deeply into Suzanne’s. “Your brother will be found by two men.”

  “Today?”

  Winona shut her eyes again, and Suzanne held her breath until the stout little woman opened them again.

  “It’s all very close. I would have to say yes.”

  “Would…would you like to come in for coffee?” Suzanne asked. She hadn’t been aware of it, but even Lily Mae had gone. Other than Winona and herself, there wasn’t a person in sight. She didn’t want to let Winona go. She might come up with another vision and even pinpoint Mack’s location.

  Winona patted her hand and released it. “Thank you, but no. There’s nothing more I can tell you, Suzanne, and I must go home and feed my pets.”

  “Yes, of course,” Suzanne murmured. Her mind was focused on Winona’s vision, and she would like to ask questions about it. How she could be so positive that the young deer represented Mack, for one.

  “Come and visit me sometime,” Winona said as she began waddling to her car.

  “Thank you, but I won’t be here very much longer. As soon as they find Mack…” She suddenly ran out of energy, and her voice simply failed her. If they found Mack, she reminded herself. She wanted to believe Winona’s prediction in the worst way, and maybe some part of herself did believe it, but the pragmatic side of herself, the one that only believed what she saw with her own eyes, remained doubtful.

  To her surprise Winona chuckled. “Oh, you’ll be here, my dear. Believe me, you’ll be here. Goodbye for now, Suzanne.” She hefted herself into her car, started the engine and drove away.

  It’s your fault, all of it. Rand relentlessly beat himself up as he rode his horse, Jack, around granite boulders and into brushy copses on the mountain. That ad, that miserable damned ad, started everything, and you put it in that magazine. If Mack dies, or we find him seriously injured, it’s your doing.

  In the bunkhouse, cooking like a fiend to keep herself from complete insanity, Suzanne was doing the same thing. You pushed Mack too far. You know he loves it here, and you knew in your heart that he wouldn’t leave without some show of rebellion. Why didn’t you wait until morning and tell him the truth, rather than just saying that Rand didn’t want us here? Mack adores Rand…and J.D. He looks up to them, and he’s never looked up to any other man except Dad. How could you do what you did to your own brother? It’s your fault he ran away…your fault…your fault…

  “Rand, over here!” J.D.’s shout echoed and reverberated off the canyon walls. Rand’s heart skipped a beat. “What’ve you got?”

  “A cold, hungry young man!” J.D. yelled.

  Rand nudged Jack into a faster walk. “Is he okay?”

  Mack himself answered. “I’m okay, Rand.”

  “Thank you, God,” Rand breathed. He took his rifle from its sheath and fired one shot into the air.

  The sun was almost down, Suzanne saw with a distraught sensation. She had been on the ranch long enough to know that once it descended behind that one hill of trees, darkness would soon follow.

  And they weren’t back. No one was. The kitchen was full of food—two whole baked hams, bowls of potato and macaroni salad, an enormous platter of fried chicken, three apple pies, three pumpkin pies, three chocolate pies, two kinds of cookies—and there was no one to eat it.

  She felt drained. She had spent her highly strung energy on cooking, merely to keep from going mad, and there was none left in her limp body. The sound of a car on the driveway didn’t even cause a reaction, other than a rather disinterested curiosity. Changing windows, she watched the approach of a modest gray sedan.

  There were so many vehicles and horse trailers in the yard that the driver was unable to get close to the bunkhouse. Listlessly, Suzanne watched the car finally squeeze into a narrow opening between two pickup trucks. For a few seconds her view was cut off, but then she saw a woman rounding the back of the nearest truck and walking to the building. She was carrying a black leather bag that looked to Suzanne like a medical bag, the kind that doctors carried.

  Even that didn’t whet Suzanne’s curiosity, although she couldn’t imagine why a medical person would be dropping in, today of all days. The closer the woman got, the better Suzanne was able to see her. She was attractive in a quiet way, around thirty, Suzanne estimated, and bore a serious expression.

  Suzanne let her knock on the door before opening it. Her “Yes?” wasn’t the most hospitable thing she’d ever said to a visitor, but her spirits were so low it was all she could manage.

  “I’m Dr. Hall, Carey Hall. Are you Suzanne Paxton?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Obviously they haven’t returned yet. Suzanne, Reed Austin used his cellular phone to call the sheriff’s department. They, in turn, called me. Your brother has been found and…Suzanne!”

  She had crumpled to the floor in a dead faint.

  “Please, everyone,” Dr. Hall said firmly. “I’d like to be alone with my patient.”

  Mack’s tiny bedroom was overflowing, and he was embarrassed to be the center of so much attention. A little pleased, as well, but still embarrassed. Suzanne was sitting on his bed, holding his hand and, he could tell, trying not to cry. Rand and J.D. kept grinning at him. Dr. Hall—Mack wasn’t thrilled about a lady doctor—had been waiting to do her job, and even Freeway sat there with a grin on his homely face, obviously very proud of himself. It was his magnificent nose, after all, that had sniffed out Mack’s hiding place. He had barked at J.D., calling him to the spot, which had been a very clever thing for a dog to do.

  Carey took Suzanne’s arm and urged her up from the bed. “I feel certain he’s fine, Suzanne, but let’s make sure with an examination.”

  “You’ll find me when you’re through?” Suzanne asked anxiously.

  “Absolutely.”

  Rand watched as Dr. Hall turned Suzanne over to J.D. Dark emotions swirled within him, guilt, regret, self-incrimination. He owed Suzanne a whopping apology; she would hear it at the first opportunity. She had looked at him, of course, more than once. When they’d gotten back and brought Mack in, she had even hugged him.

  But she’d also hugged J.D.

  The three of them started downstairs. “Sounds like a party to me,” J.D. said. When Rand had seen all the food in the kitchen, he had invited everyone who had participated in the search to come in and eat. No one had refused. They had taken care of their horses, then filed into the bunkhouse.

  It did indeed sound like a party, Suzanne had to agree. Laughter, conversation, comments on the day, pride in their good works, it all drifted up the stairs to engulf her. Still a little light-headed, it seemed more th
an she could face. So many people, so much noise. She would like to sit in some quiet corner and wait for Dr. Hall’s diagnosis.

  And then give her heartfelt apologies to Rand. She would not attempt to sneak away again. Even if Mack was given a clean bill of health by Dr. Hall, Suzanne swore an oath that she would not leave this ranch until she had talked to Rand alone.

  But she could not appear ungrateful to these kind, generous and friendly people, and so she waded into the melee in the dining room and kitchen, smiled, chatted and tried to force food into her mouth despite her rebellious stomach.

  After about thirty minutes she saw Dr. Hall on the sidelines, obviously looking for her. “Excuse me,” she said to the couple with whom she’d been talking. “I see Dr. Hall. She must be through with her examination of Mack.”

  “Let us know how he’s doing,” they called after her.

  “I will.” Suzanne wound through the crowd to Dr. Hall’s side. “How is he?” she asked at once.

  “Let’s go someplace quiet,” Carey said. “I fully understand everyone’s euphoria, but this is a madhouse.”

  Suzanne took her to the office and shut the door. “Please sit down.”

  They each sat at a desk. Noticing Suzanne’s wary expression, Carey rushed to ease her concern. “Physically, he’s fine, Suzanne. I saw no sign of frostbite or hypothermia. He’s very tired, probably already asleep by now, but I’m sure he’ll be his normal self tomorrow.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ in your voice, Doctor,” Suzanne said quietly.

  “Well, he’s so…unhappy. Suzanne, I’m a pediatrician and normally work with much younger children. But any physician would sense Mack’s state of mind. Do you have any idea of what’s bothering him? Why he felt the need to run away?”

  “Yes, I know exactly why he did it. I know why he’s unhappy and I know what to do about it.”

  Dr. Hall nodded. “I’m very glad to hear that. Is there anything more you would like me to do?”

  “No. Thank you for driving out here.” She smiled. “I honestly didn’t know that doctors made house calls in Montana.”