by Lass Small
She made Ellen smile but Ellen leaked another tear.
“No more tears,” the doctor ordered. “Tears upset us.”
That made Ellen grin widely, but another tear slid out.
Blotting that casually, the doctor said, “I’ll be back to release you from that gadget. Behave. No dancing. No arguing with these stubborn people around here. Be logical and quiet. I’ll be back.”
Now...how many times had the doctor said she’d be back? What a pushover she was. She washed her hands, snapped her case together and grinned at her patient as she left.
One of the male hands sat with Ellen. Drowsily, she wondered what she’d do if she needed to go to the bathroom. She watched the slow drip of the water down the tube and she slowly slid into sleep.
Ellen woke again some two hours later. A woman was standing above her bed. She had on plastic gloves and was removing the almost empty jar that had held the dripping fluid.
Somewhat wobbly, Ellen asked, “Are you a doctor, too?”
“Naw. But don’t get scared. We all get training in helping each other out here. The doctors over at the clinic give us lessons so we can help one another if we’re out and about and they can’t get to us right away.”
“Oh.”
The woman laughed softly but with a great deal of humor. She asked, “Having a clown treat you’s a shock, huh?”
That did make Ellen smile. “Yes.”
“Don’t fret a-tall. We know what we’re doing. We have directions. We are all very careful—because somebody just might have to do the same thing to us, and we want them to be careful! What goes around, comes around. So you might need to help me some time, and I wanna be damned sure I’ve done you just right!” She laughed.
Even that made Ellen smile.
How long had it been since she’d smiled? And in this strange day now, she’d smiled several times. Would she come to the time when she could be—normal again? And just thinking that she might, another big tear of emotion slid from the side of her eye.
“Now, honey, what the hell’s the matter? Did I do something wrong? I’ve—”
“No, no. I haven’t—laughed—in some time. You see—Well—Things have been—” And she stopped.
“Never you mind. Everybody has troubles. All we gotta do is look on beyond our own selves. It ain’t easy, but if you can, you can see who all needs help. Then you know no matter what all happens, if you can breathe and eat and eject, you ain’t bad off a-tall.”
How strange such words sunk into Ellen’s understanding. She had heard variations of such many times, but it was this woman, whom she did not know, who said what Ellen needed to hear and she’d assimilated the words.
It was only then that Ellen considered herself. She was not healed, as yet, but she was on a better track than that in which she’d been trapped.
How strange.
But she lay there wondering why she was still on earth, and her baby was not.
That caused the tears to leak out again.
The woman said, “No matter what all’s happened to you, you’re okay. Praise the Lord and accept your role in life.”
That set Ellen back a notch. She was not a believer at all, and she didn’t like being told that she should accept anything! Her bitterness returned, and she was again hostile to any assistance.
The woman sighed. “I’ve probably upset you. Everybody tells me to be quiet. I just go right on and talk every damned time, and I always mess it up. I am sorry if I’ve upset you—”
“You’ve been very kind. Don’t fret.”
The woman accepted that with a big smile. “You’ll be okay. Everything has its—My God, I’m talking again and I ought to just shut up.”
“Are you married?”
“Naw, but I’m susceptible, and I got three kids. Nice kids. They’re independent and sassy and we argue most of the time.”
“I’d bet they’re darling.”
“Mostly—strange. A couple of them, I don’t know for sure who’s their daddies.”
Plural? Daddies? That woman? She must be a very willing—partner.
Ellen considered the woman. She was so open and easy. But then Ellen considered herself, and her foolish acceptance of a man who really hadn’t wanted her—permanently. He’d only wanted to taste her. No. To use her.
There was no difference between herself and this woman who was so kindly helping her. As Kipling wrote, “For the Colonel’s Lady an’ Judy O’Grady are sisters under their skins.” Women are women. There is no difference.
With a token tap on the door frame, Mrs. Keeper came into the room. She helped the other woman remove the needle in Ellen’s arm. Mina Keeper smiled and said to Ellen, “You get ice cream. Which kind do you prefer?”
“I don’t believe I care for any right now.”
The brawn-armed woman put in, “You get a spoonful You can handle that.”
Ellen discarded doing anything as she said, “I’ll see.”
The woman whose name Ellen did not know put in cheerfully to Mrs. Keeper, “That sounds like she’s considering.”
Mina Keeper told that person, “Well, Ciggie, we’ll just fool her and make her beg for what’s left after we eat what all we want.”
Mrs. Keeper had called the woman—Ciggie.
Ciggie laughed with real delight. “We get all the ice cream?”
“We can’t throw it away.”
Ellen gave up. “I’ll take—”
But Mina sighed. “We’ll just have to...”
Ellen was a tad irritated and strident, “I said—”
But Mina finished her sentence, “—eat it all.”
Ellen became pushy and somewhat annoyed, “I said I’d eat those first two spoonfuls.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Keeper was astonished. “Would you like a taste?”
“You are speaking of ice cream?”
“Why...yes.” So innocent. Good grief.
Ciggie laughed.
Mina gave the invalid a skimpy two spoonfuls on a tiny plate, while their bowls were enormous!
However, Ellen never did get to see exactly how much they’d actually had, but the two greedy ones licked their lips and made sounds that were not at all necessary!
Then Mrs. Keeper said offhandedly to Ciggie, “I suppose if we’re not going to make her ill watching us be this greedy, we really ought to go out into the hall.”
Over Ellen’s courteous protest, the two just went on out of the room. And Ellen could hear the sound of the spoons in the bowls and the almost silent chitchat and laughter of the two women.
Very irritating. Really, very irritating.
It wasn’t until later that Ellen heard why Ciggie and not a doctor had disconnected Ellen from the intravenous bottle. It seemed some man on the Place had interfered with a bull for some reason, which had annoyed the bull, and the hand’s stomach had been ripped open.
The medical team had done the adjusting of the organs and the sewing of the skin. The medics had found the surgery very interesting. The victim was not that pleased.
In just a short time, Ellen began to see and hear all the different things that happened on the ranch. No day was dull. The senior Mr. Keeper sighed with irritation and mentioned to Ellen, “You’d think people would have a little care for themselves!”
He’d said that to a woman who’d been ignoring herself? Her fragile body? Someone who hadn’t given one damn for anything?
It fascinated Ellen to hear someone like a Keeper be furious and very vocal about carelessness. John Keeper was really irritated. And as he blew off temper, he was looking at her!
Was he chiding Ellen, or was he explaining stupidity, or was he just scared that somebody he liked had been hurt?
Ellen thought of her mother. She remembered looking at her mother and seeing her fury with her stupid daughter. And her daddy was there, and he’d hushed his wife. His hand on his wife had been gentle and he’d tried to calm her.
Then he’d turned his hurting eyes to his daughter�
�
Ellen couldn’t think about that right then. She might never think of it again.
With Ellen more fragile than they’d first thought, it was the next day the two—Mina and Ciggie—came and said to Ellen, “You’re to get up now and go out onto the porch to sit in a rocker and stare at the beauty of the Place.”
“I believe I’ll sleep a while.” That was kindly said and logical.
Mrs. Keeper told her, “The doctor said you are not to sleep during the day, you are to wait for the night. You must get up and move about.”
Ellen breathed several times in revolt as she was old enough to do that, but she said, “Yes.”
Mrs. Keeper simply looked at her as she would any guest who was difficult and she said, “Ciggie will assist you in rising. She will guide you out to the porch. She will give you a layout of the house and grounds where you will walk. You’ll do that until you get used to the place, then you can ride farther.”
That wasn’t suggestion, it was direction. It had the very strong sense of her mother and father. However, Ellen was not someone these persons could direct. She was a free soul. She could do as she chose.
“Since you have all that water sloshing around inside you, Ciggie will take you to the bathroom first.”
“I can take myself.”
Mrs. Keeper smiled in a very courteous manner and said, “This time, let us help you. You need to know where to go and the layout of the house and yard. Ciggie will help you today. Call me if you need me.”
She left.
Directions. That’s what Mina Keeper was doing to Ellen. She was being structured. Their way. Now. Damn.
Having been raised as she was, Ellen did manage to smile at the abandoned Ciggie as she said, “Well, that’s clear enough. I feel very like a prisoner.”
Not at all taking that as bitterness, Ciggie giggled. “She loves you. You ought to see how gentle she gets when she’s mad. Well, she don’t get mad but she can be—uh—let’s see if I can find the word. Yeah. Annoyed.” That was enunciated just right.
Ciggie made Ellen smile.
Two
With time moving into the middle of another day, it was Ciggie who led the still fragile Ellen down the hall to the side door of the Keeper house. She was careful of the guest. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
Just the way Ellen said that made Ciggie stop and eye the guest with some squinted doubt.
As happens in romances, Mina’s son, Tom, came along right then. He hesitated and looked carefully at the women. Then he asked Ciggie, “She okay?”
Being a sentimental person, Ciggie replied, “You ought to see to her getting out on the porch for some air. Be sure she’s in the shade but be surer she’s warm.” Ciggie grinned and her eyes danced...then she turned away and damned near fled!
That left a fragile Ellen standing there by the closed door, which led onto the side porch.
Tom hadn’t actually noticed that Ciggie had left them. His eyes were on the fragile woman. He said, “Tell her I’m a Keeper.”
There was no reply, so Tom looked over and found that Ciggie had vanished. She was no where around at all! How clever.
Since the two were alone, Tom looked at the guest... whoever she was...and he realized she was seriously fragile. He asked, “Are you going out into the sun?”
She altered the word rather vacantly, “Shade.”
Tom waited, but she didn’t move, so he suggested, “Let me hold the door for you.”
She nodded but she didn’t even look at him.
He opened the door, then the screen door and stepped outside as he held it for her.
She almost didn’t move. But finally she did step forward so carefully that Tom put out a hand and clasped her elbow to stabilize her.
She murmured, “Thank you.”
She didn’t look at him or flirt or anything. But she did hesitate.
He took a firmer grip on her arm and led her over to the sun side, and he seated her under a large umbrella that was tall and wide. It was also seriously anchored in the center hole of the table and was not at all movable. Winds only ruffled the fringe around the edge of the big umbrella.
Ellen sat in the shade and again said, “Thank you,” dismissing Tom.
Being independent, Tom sat down in another chair and watched her.
He wasn’t sure if she was ill or a morning drunk, but there was no smell of liquor. She was skinny and probably had been ailing. Tom wondered who had dropped her off on the Keeper doorstep. The guest had not found the Keepers by herself.
He asked her, “Are you all right?”
She nodded once.
That was supposed to be communication? He frowned at her. If she was sick, why had Ciggie directed her to come outside into the sun on the porch?
He asked the woman, “Do you want to be outside? You don’t seem strong enough to be out here alone.”
“I’ll ring the bell if I need help.” She indicated the table bell used for refilling glasses or plates.
Tom asked with narrowed eyes, “What meal are you eating?”
“None.”
“Then...why are you out here?”
That was a logical question. Their parents were friends. They were in an extended group who commented on others. They were distantly in touch. She managed to move her eyes over and look at Mina’s son. “I’ve met you in San Antonio. You were interested in some woman there.”
“Kayla.”
“Yes. She would be worth the attention. But she remarried that lawyer.”
“Yes.”
Then Ellen looked at Tom, having been rejected herself, and she asked him, “Were you—disappointed she married another man?”
He shrugged. “It happens...one way or another. To a man or a woman.” He looked around for someone who might be monitoring this fragile female and, seeing no one, it was he who stayed to be sure she didn’t faint, all alone, out on the porch.
It was difficult to see inside the house because the glass was tinted so the sun didn’t stream in too pushily. That way, Tom did not see the two women backed away and watching the couple on the porch. The two did not speak. That was because Mrs. Keeper had told Ciggie to hush. Therefore, Mrs. Keeper could strain her ears and listen.
However, it was interesting that Mina Keeper hadn’t told Ciggie to run along and mind her own business. But while they didn’t speak, they both watched the odd couple on the porch.
The reason Mina hadn’t told Ciggie to run along was if Tom left and Ellen needed help, Mrs. Keeper could send Ciggie out—casually—and in that subtle way could give help to their guest
Ciggie knew that was exactly so, but she understood Mrs. Keeper and didn’t mind at all. Anything Mrs. Keeper did was logical and planned.
How amazing that Ciggie understood Mina Keeper. Very few others did. Most thought the senior Mrs. Keeper was nosy and intrusive.
Back on the porch, Ellen became relaxed. She actually looked around. She said to Tom, “There’s no need for you to monitor me. I’m fine.”
He looked at her in some shock. She thought she was...fine? He looked around and considered that the jump off the flat porch was not dangerous for such a stranger. But if she went up the several flights to the attic, she might do serious damage to herself jumping from one of the windows.
Then he looked up and remembered the bars that were braced sideways across the windows in a casual, perfectly spaced row. She didn’t have a chance of doing anything drastic.
He considered her. Was she in self-danger?
He finally decided slowly that, like life, even in death she wouldn’t give a damn. She didn’t care one way or the other.
But she’d remembered he had had a serious case of Kayla.
He asked gently, “That man you used to be with...Philip? He left you?”
She nodded.
“Oh.”
“—and then I lost the baby.”
Tom hadn’t known she’d been pregnant. He frowned and looked at her.
He told her kindly, “There was some reason for it. Babies sometimes can’t make it There will be another time for you.”
She slowly turned her head and just looked at Tom with ancient knowledge that he would never understand.
He asked, “Have you been ill?”
“I forget to eat.”
“Can you walk?”
She considered. “Some.”
“Let’s go around the porch to the shady side.”
She was slow in deciding. She turned her head carefully. She began to leave the chair, and he reached to help her. She said, “I can do this by myself.”
Tom rose to his feet and just anxiously watched, his hands ready to catch her fall. He wondered if moving her had been a good idea. Maybe she needed the feeling of the warm, Texas winter sun on that side of the house?
She straightened and looked around slowly. She asked, “Which way?”
He could carry her. She didn’t have to go around to the other side of—
Ellen looked at him in a dead glance and asked again, “Which way?”
Tom had never counted the steps of either way. He glanced up and quickly, mentally judged the distance one way or the other. He said, “This way.” It would be around the back.
Watching, inside the house, Mina asked Ciggie, “What the dickens is he doing?” She was huffy and appalled.
Ciggie replied, “We’ll see.”
Mina gave Ciggie a deadly look of shock. Well, she had asked the question, and Ciggie had given a logical reply. Mina breathed carefully to soothe herself and moved instantly to see where the hell Tom was taking that fragile child-woman!
The two women hurried to the various places to see...
Tom had lifted Ellen into his arms and was carrying her around the back of the house! Good gravy! If a woman was so fragile that she had to be carried then she probably should be in bed!
Tom was stopped along the wall of the porch and was indicating something to Ellen that was on beyond. It was horses. No. It was the Longhorns moving slowly and eating grass. Tom Keeper mentioned, “Their horns must be a nuisance but don’t they look elegant?”
