High Country : A Novel (15 page)

Ty’s feet were red and sore, but no blisters. Later his big toenails turned black and he lost them. Fenton said he’d probably bruised them kicking at things to get the feeling back. Fenton had lots to say about Ty’s ride out, especially that first night: waking him to drink more soup, keeping the water warm—talking all the time about warming from the inside.

“Them boys are always surprised, after they hold their hands half in the fire, that back in the cold they can’t tight a rope. Something that says to work right a body needs to warm from the inside.”

He left, coming back with more soup and a sandwich. “Food warms. He fussed around for something more to do. “Probably didn’t eat a damn thing coming out over that pass.”

He was right. Ty had some jerked elk in his saddlebags, but he’d eaten only one stick, chewing it until he decided to unhook the mules. But he didn’t tell Fenton about that. He didn’t tell him about getting lost either. That wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Don’t believe I could have made it if you hadn’t broken that trail out,” Ty said. “I was sure thankful.”
“Watch mules on a cold mornin’.” Fenton held out the sandwich. “Buck and fart, tear all over hell and gone. But I think what warms them most is that sweet-grain. Makes sense. Look what warms a bear.”
Ty wasn’t sure Fenton had heard him. He started in to thank him again but the words drifted off. Fenton put the sandwich back on the plate, put his hand in the water, checking the temperature.

“I think Fenton should have been a doctor,” Cody Jo said the next morning. Ty was surprised that Fenton’s pants almost fit him. He’d rolled up the extra length and was shuffling around in an old pair of Fenton’s slippers. His feet were red and itchy, but otherwise he felt wonderful. He loved the big breakfast Cody Jo had made.

“I don’t even remember him bringing me the blankets,” Ty said. “I must of slept deep.”
“I brought the blankets.” Cody Jo put more flapjacks on his plate. “He doctors, I comfort. He thinks the more it hurts the better it’s getting.”
“There’s somethin’ to that.” Fenton brought in firewood. “Sounds crazy but it ain’t. Take Ty’s feet. Itchy. Blood gettin’ back in there.” He poured some coffee and sat. “Bound to feel some hurt when a body corrects.”
“I just wish you wouldn’t take such pleasure in it.”
Fenton turned to Ty. “In these mountains you got to remember to set anything that’s broke, sew up anything that needs sewin’, right off the bat. Nature’s smart enough to make us plumb numb after we take a whack. When you’re numb is when to move things around. He sipped his coffee. “Set old Buck’s nose that way once.”
“You did.” Cody Jo grimaced. “Look at poor Buck’s nose now.”
“Didn’t have much time.” Fenton’s arm went around her. “Least not enough to be no Michelangelo.”
“No.” Cody Jo rubbed his hand. “But you could be a doctor. You’ve got that way. Just promise never to do anything like that to Ty’s nose.”
Fenton headed out to the barn to put away the equipment. Ty got up to go with him, but Fenton wouldn’t have it, telling him to read Cody Jo’s books—there were things to be learned. “ Yo u’ll be workin’ like a coolie in a few days. Repair first.”
It snowed off and on for a week, so there was plenty of time for helping. By the next day Ty was doing what he could, seeing what was needed and doing it without a lot of questions. He liked being there, liked the work, liked his little room off the barn, liked watching Fenton and Cody Jo.
It was a happy time for him. Cody Jo had arranged for him to go to school in Missoula, and Mary wrote that she and Will were pleased he’d have the chance. Ty liked talking with Cody Jo about classes, the books they’d be reading. In the mornings he’d oil and patch saddles, listening to Fenton’s stories, asking questions, learning even when the answer had nothing to do with the question. In the afternoons he’d fire up the woodstove and read in his room off the barn. At night Cody Jo would play the piano and they’d sing, or they’d listen to her records. She even started teaching Ty to dance, telling him it would be good for his feet, that he’d be a hit at the schoolhouse dances. She thought he might have natural rhythm, but he needed to relax before she’d know for sure.
The fourth day it cleared. Fenton saddled Easter and took two mules, opening the trail to Murphy’s so he could get supplies for Cody Jo. When he came back he brought Buck and Angie with him, and the Murphys too. They’d run out of things to do at the store and decided to come through the snow to stir up some excitement. They wanted to hear Cody Jo’s new records, which they’d brought along with her mailorder things. They wanted to see Ty too, not sure whether to believe Fenton’s story.
“There he is.” Fenton unpacked the mules at the backdoor. “His feet are scratchy, but the rest is tuned up keen.”
“Wait’ll Spec hears.” Buck passed the groceries across the snow. “He claimed you’d have to come out down Hungry Horse way.”
“And he didn’t say how much you growed.” Angie watched Ty carry the groceries in. “You could break some hearts, Ty.”
Ty took the horses to the barn and threw out feed. When he got back the women were talking about what food to have and Dan Murphy was already mixing and stirring his favorite concoction.
“I’ll make a special for you.” He looked at Ty. “Made me nervous just ridin’ here from the store. Don’t know how in hell you made it all the way from Ring’s meadows.”
“He was in a worse place than Ring’s meadows.” Fenton was watching all the mixing. “And it wasn’t luck that got him out. If he’d counted on luck we’d still be looking for him.”
“This is a Murphy special. Take a taste. People drive miles to partake.” He watched Fenton sip it. “Save some for our hero.”
Fenton rolled it around, swallowed. “I like most everything that’s got a bite. Try it, Ty.Your taster’s not so contaminated.”
“Here.” Dan Murphy handed Ty a cup. “Then tell your secret. Fenton says he don’t see how you made it.” He watched Ty take a swallow.
“Oh . . .” Ty wiped at his eyes, sucked air to cool his mouth. “No secret, but maybe not knowing what’s ahead when you saddle.” He wiped his eyes again, hearing the music start up from Cody Jo’s victrola. “This sure warms you.”
“Slop me a little more, Daniel.” Fenton held out his cup, amused by Ty. “Appears your special is right special.”
Dan Murphy mixed a big batch of it in a bowl. Rosie put out some cheese and bread and they asked Ty lots of questions about his ride through the blizzard. He did his best to answer, thinking it probably wasn’t as dangerous as they thought though there was no way to describe the wind. It was hard to believe that himself. He said no part scared him more than any other, which was true. He hadn’t had time to get scared, except for the getting lost part—which he didn’t mention. When he finally said how grateful he was that Fenton had broken out the trail, Fenton hardly listened.
“‘Bout the only luck he did have. Wind taking that snow ever’ which way. I was damn sure no one could come up from the other side.” Fenton got up and stirred the fire. “Good you got out when you did, Ty. Don’t know what you’d be feeding them mules by now.”
Ty took another sip, relieved it didn’t burn so much this time. They played some of Cody Jo’s new music and Rosie came over and got him to dance. Buck and Angie were already dancing, and Rosie was so energetic he forgot all about how awkward he must look. When they put on the next record, Angie said she wanted to dance with “Mr. Intrepid.”
“Learn these steps, Ty.” She started in to lead as soon as the record began. “No fun bein’ a wallflower.”
Cody Jo brought out a pot of chili, and they ate it with slices of elk steak and more of Rosie’s bread. Ty found himself dancing to almost every record they played. Later in the evening they got Artie Shaw’s swing band on the radio. When they played “Green Eyes,” Ty found himself dancing with Cody Jo, and after a few steps the music seemed a part of him. He hardly felt her in his arms, though he knew the music wouldn’t mean nearly so much if she weren’t. The others stopped and watched. When the song ended Angie and Rosie clapped, Angie saying Ty won the prize as best dancer.
Cody Jo went to Fenton and took his arm. “Well,” she said. “I believe he does have it. I wasn’t so sure at first.”
“What’s he got?” Rosie was winding the phonograph, putting on another swing record. “Besides a big appetite?”
“Rhythm.” Cody Jo watched Angie go over to Ty, swaying in place while she waited for the next record. “That’s what he’s got.”
“Packers don’t have a hell of a lot of time for dancin’.” Fenton started in to dance with Cody Jo as the music began. “But when he’s out of the woods, you girls can take over. Might need a dance or two by then.”
Ty danced a bit longer, but nothing seemed as right as the dance with Cody Jo. After awhile he decided to go to bed and read. He took a lantern and went out through the snow, surprised by how hard it was to stay on the packed path.
The next morning he was thirsty and dry-mouthed and couldn’t remember whether he’d read before he slept or not. He went into the barn to pee, went outside and got some snow to eat. He ate more as he got dressed, dressing fast in the cold. He ate still more as he walked up to the house, saw where he’d gone off the trail the night before.
Cody Jo was talking with Fenton in the kitchen. She smiled at Ty as she poured him a glass of juice. “You had a time last night. Told you those dancing lessons would pay off.”
“Horace’s old bunkhouse ain’t too bad.” Fenton put a mug of coffee in front of Ty. “Like your room in the barn. Better. Electrified.”
Ty drank the juice and sipped at the coffee. He wasn’t sure what Fenton was talking about. Then Fenton said something about the Adams’s chores, and it came to him that they were talking about where he’d live while he went to school.
“It’s a place to study, Ty.” Cody Jo put a plate of scrambled eggs and toasted slices of Rosie’s bread in front of him. “Etta will feed you.You’ll need to eat.” She smiled again. “Even when you feel a little funny.”

Two days later the roads opened. Spec showed up in Tommy Yellowtail’s pickup and Ty got a ride into town with him. Tommy hadn’t gotten better, and though he had faith in the medicine man, Spec wanted all the bases covered. He’d even filled out the forms for some government doctoring, much as he hated to do it.

“Papers and more papers.” He spit out into the snow as they drove. “Then they act as though you’re lucky to be allowed.” He stopped at the bar in Seeley Lake and had a beer, buying one for Ty too, the bartender looking at Ty before deciding there was too much snow to worry about laws.

“Thought you quit this.” Ty took a sip of beer, trying to keep Spec from fretting so much.
“I did. In the mountains.” Spec bought more bottles for the trip. “It ain’t worth it out here.”

“Must of took the cutoff.” Spec was sipping beer as he drove. “Stuck a log in a tree for you.”
“That saved me. I was about to ride on past it.”
“You would of found the way. Or that Smoky mare would of.You do good in the woods.”
“Well,” Ty looked out at the banks of snow. “I’m not so sure.”
Spec dropped Ty off at the department store. Cody Jo had made him promise to buy something that didn’t look so worn before he went to the Adams’s. Spec wrote down the address of a bar where Ty could find him and went off to the government offices. An agent had promised to meet with him even though it was Saturday. Ty worried about that. The beer didn’t seem to be calming Spec down.

The clerk tried to sell Ty some Levis Ty thought were too short. “Cowboys like ’em that way.” The man eyed Ty’s worn clothes. “So they don’t drag in all that cow shit.” Ty bought a pair one size up anyway, adding a shirt to that, and left, the man still telling him things he needed as he walked out the door.

He had time, so he walked along Main Street looking in store windows. When he came to an outfitter’s supply store, he went in to look at the panniers. A man in an apron came from the back and stood there, smoking and looking at Ty.

“Snow drive you out of your mountains?” The man stubbed out his cigarette. “You boys always look a little lost come winter. Or drunk. It’s a toss-up.”

Ty asked some questions about the panniers, saying they didn’t look as stout as the ones he used. The man smiled, lit another smoke.
“You work for that big bastard Pardee? He sings the same tune about them panniers.”
“I do.” Ty was pleased to be identified with Fenton. “Ours has a little more leather. They get worked awful hard.”
“To tell the truth I do too, every time Pardee stops in and tells me to cinch this up or add leather there. It’s a lot more pleasant to do business with that wife of his. She sure lights a place up.”
Ty stayed on awhile, enjoying the man’s stories about how frugal Fenton could be, how Cody Jo could get him to do what he’d just said he wouldn’t. When he left he passed a bar where the nickelodeon was playing one of Cody Jo’s favorites. He leaned against the building and listened, wishing he could see the mountains lifting on the outskirts of town. The clouds were in and he couldn’t see them at all.
He walked on, thinking of different campsites, the miles he’d covered tracking horses, the way the sun broke through the clouds and gave such color to the Missions. And he thought about how Fenton and Cody Jo had taken care of him: Fenton coming for him through the snow, Cody Jo feeding him and cutting his hair and giving him books to read. He thought about dancing with her too. She’d shown him you don’t even need to think when you dance with someone like Cody Jo. He thought maybe when things were right, you didn’t have to think about them at all. But then he thought that could be another thing you never got to know for sure.
He checked the address Spec had given him, thinking he’d rather be headed for one of his camps in the mountains. Or for one of Cody Jo’s dinners in the big log building Fenton had built for her up in the Swan.