Opal (37 page)
She watched as Rand settled his rope over one pole and, giving ten feet or so of slack, cinched the end around his saddle horn. Then she did likewise.
‘‘Slow and easy is the ticket here. Just like with the cows.’’
‘‘Yes, sir.’’ While she’d seen this done before, she’d never been the brake rider. ‘‘Easy, girl, just keep that rope tight.’’ The wagon eased down the trail, the two horses pulling against it, the team in front mincing down the hill, tails twitching and ears laid back. When they reached the bottom, she let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. One more obstacle was behind them.
‘‘Good job.’’ Rand left his noose snug on the wagon. ‘‘Take it straight across, Jacob. It might start to float, so keep a firm hand on the reins. I’ll be upriver to help keep the rear end from floating sideways.’’ He turned to Opal. ‘‘I’ll yell when we get across. Then they can bring the horses down.’’ Rand followed the wagon into the river, doing just what he’d explained. The wagon made it across without a problem. Rand yelled back, ‘‘All right, bring them down.’’
Opal repeated the order, but when she heard no response, she rode partway up the hill. ‘‘Bring them down, nice and easy.’’
‘‘We’re comin’.’’
She could hear the horses coming, so she returned to the river edge. ‘‘Joel?’’
‘‘Here.’’
Virginia led the horses into the river. With the last one in, the three young wranglers followed.
Opal’s mount had just found its feet again when a scream from downriver made her turn in her saddle. A horse whinnied in fear, thrashing and churning the water.
‘‘Help! We’re stuck. Help!’’
‘‘Rand, it’s Ada Mae!’’
‘‘Ada Mae, stay on your horse! Everyone else, out of the river.’’ Rand spurred his mount into the river. ‘‘Opal, shake out a loop and help me get her out.’’
Ada Mae’s horse whinnied, primal fear turning it to a shriek.
‘‘Hang on, Ada Mae, we’re coming.’’ Opal shook out her rope in spite of shaking hands. Quicksand. With the river up like this, they could drown before being pulled loose.
The horse screamed. Ada Mae screamed.
‘‘See if you can get a loop on Ada Mae,’’ Rand said. ‘‘I’ll try for the horse’s head.’’
‘‘Keep talking to me, Ada Mae.’’ Opal could barely see them out on the river. If only they had waited until morning or crossed earlier.
‘‘Help me.’’
‘‘Calm down now. Talk to me.’’
‘‘The water’s too deep.’’
‘‘I’m throwing a loop. Try to catch it.’’ Opal felt the rope plop in the water.
God, please!
Nudging Bay back out belly deep so she could see better, she hauled the rope in and threw it again.
‘‘I got it.’’
Opal heard the tears in the girl’s voice. ‘‘Thank you, God. Ada Mae, listen. Put the rope over your head and settle it around your waist. Kick free of the stirrups, and I’ll pull you in.’’
The horse whinnied again, frantic in its terror.
‘‘Hold still, you . . .’’ Rand tried his rope again. ‘‘Get Ada Mae out of the way so she doesn’t get hurt. Then I’ll get the horse.’’ He drove his horse farther into the river, all the while talking gently to the frightened pair.
‘‘Back, Bay. Back up.’’ Once again Opal felt a surge of gratitude that she’d voice-trained Bay, much against the laughing opinions of the cowhands. ‘‘Back.’’
Bay did as told, backing toward the riverbank so that Opal could use both hands to pull in the weeping girl.
When she could stand, Ada Mae slogged her way to the shore, clinging to Opal’s stirrup.
‘‘All right, come on up . . .’’
Virginia jumped from her horse and grabbed her little sister, both of them crying as they clung together. ‘‘I should have been watching for you,’’ Virginia choked out. ‘‘You coulda died.’’
‘‘I-I was so scared.’’ Ada Mae hiccupped, her sobs abating.
‘‘Come on. You can ride behind me on the way home.’’
It was me who should have been watching out for the younger ones
. Opal swallowed the rest of her tears. ‘‘No, Virginia, she’ll freeze in those wet clothes. Let’s get her up to the house. Give her a boost up behind me.’’ Opal leaned over and extended her hand.
‘‘I-I can’t m-make it.’’ Ada Mae’s teeth were chattering, her hands icy cold.
Opal whipped off her jacket and threw it to Ada Mae. ‘‘Take yours off and put that on.’’
Beans’ horse skidded to a stop. ‘‘Lord above, I’m sorry. I was tryin’ to get those fool cattle settled.’’ While he spoke he leaped to the ground and hoisted Ada Mae up behind Opal. ‘‘Get her on up to the house. I’ll go help Rand.’’
‘‘Hang on.’’ Opal kicked Bay into a gallop and, trailed by Virginia, headed for the house. Ada Mae clung to her, still coughing and sobbing.
‘‘What happened?’’ Ruby met them at the door. ‘‘I heard you gallop up.’’
‘‘Quicksand. Ada Mae’s horse got in it.’’
Ruby disappeared and Opal swung her right leg over the saddle horn so she could help Ada Mae down. Between her and Virginia, they got Ada Mae up the steps and inside, where Ruby met them with a quilt.
‘‘Go over by the fire, honey, and get your clothes off.’’
‘‘I-I c-can’t.’’
Virginia threw her gloves on the floor and unbuttoned her sister’s shirt, all the while murmuring comfort and love. Opal held the quilt to shield Ada Mae from drafts. Already the heat felt like hands caressing her face. As soon as the little girl was naked, they bundled the quilt around her and rubbed her arms and legs through the quilt.
Ruby dragged the tub in from off the back porch and set it beside them. ‘‘We’ll put her in this as soon as we can get warm water ready.’’ At Little Squirrel’s instructions, Joel dumped in a potful from the reservoir and returned for more. Within minutes they had additional water heating on the stove and Ada Mae folded into the tub of warm water set close enough to the fire to drive away the cold—and the fear. Opal and Virginia stood holding the quilt as a reflector.
‘‘Here, let me do that,’’ Ruby said. ‘‘You two go back and get your wet things off and set your boots back here to dry.’’ She smiled down at Ada Mae. ‘‘Sounds like your teeth quit chattering.’’ ‘‘I know. I ain’t never been so scared.’’
Rand and the men stopped outside the door. ‘‘Are men allowed in?’’
‘‘Of course. Get on in here and get warm.’’
Within minutes more boots lined the front of the fireplace and along the stove, and the men sank into the chairs around the table, hot coffee cups warming hands as the liquid warmed insides.
‘‘That was a close one.’’ Rand shook his head.
‘‘What happened?’’ Jacob asked. ‘‘Sorry, but I never heard a thing with all the clattering in the wagon. I thought we were all across.’’
‘‘And we were thinkin’ on the cattle.’’ Chaps huffed a sigh. ‘‘Sorry, Boss.’’
‘‘It was no one’s fault. Just shows that you got to be on guard every minute. Seems we all got a mite complacent that close to home.’’
Opal handed Ada Mae a pair of pants she’d outgrown and a shirt. Why had she not waited until the last to cross the river? What was she thinking of? Not watching out for the younger ones, that was for sure. ‘‘You warm enough now?’’
‘‘I’m cookin’.’’ Ada Mae grinned at her. ‘‘We better be gettin’ on home. Ma will be worried.’’
‘‘I’m thinking you might be staying here. Leastways that’s what I heard Rand say. It will be safer to go on after the sun comes up.’’
‘‘Ma knows we’ll be there as soon as we can.’’ Virginia handed her sister a cup of coffee well laced with sugar and cream. ‘‘Drink this.’’
Ada Mae took a sip and wrinkled her nose. ‘‘I don’t understand why grown-ups think this is so good.’’
‘‘Just be polite and drink it.’’
‘‘Soup’s ready.’’ Ruby set a plate of sliced bread on the table.
‘‘Everyone come on over.’’
When silence fell, Rand cleared his throat. ‘‘Lord God, we give you thanks for saving Ada Mae from the river, for giving us a good roundup, and for keeping us all safe. Thank you for the rain we needed so badly, thank you for the food we have to eat and the hands that prepared it. In your Son’s precious name we pray. Amen.’’
‘‘Eat, Pa.’’ Per banged his spoon on the table, making everyone smile and Ada Mae and Joel laugh.
The next morning the men headed out on the east side of the river to bring in whatever other stock they found. After thanking Ruby for her hospitality one more time, the Robertson girls and Jacob rode on home, Ada Mae cheering that they wouldn’t have to go to school that day.
‘‘Rand said you did mighty well,’’ Ruby said, one arm around Opal’s shoulders, waving good-bye with her other.
Opal half snorted. ‘‘I almost let her get drowned. Some good.’’ She stepped away from the comfort of Ruby’s arm. ‘‘I better get on down there and make sure the cattle we brought in don’t take off.’’
‘‘Opal, they’re in the pasture.’’
‘‘Oh, I thought . . .’’ She closed her eyes against the morning brightness. ‘‘That was too close, Ruby, just too close. That old river, I think it’s got it in for me.’’
‘‘What do you mean?’’
‘‘Well, thanks to the river and me, Atticus near to got killed. And now Ada Mae nearly drowned. I used to love that river, but now, now I’m not so sure.’’
Per tugged at his mother’s skirt. ‘‘Up, Ma.’’
Opal leaned down and swung him up on her shoulders. He dug his fingers into her hair and jerked his hands. ‘‘Ouch. Stop that.’’
Ruby reached up to untangle his hands. ‘‘Be gentle with Opal.’’ She patted Opal’s hair. ‘‘Be nice.’’
Per giggled and slapped his hands against her head. ‘‘Go, Opa, go.’’
‘‘Rand said all of you did a fine job on the roundup.’’
‘‘Yeah, we did. I was really proud of all of us.’’
‘‘You trained them well.’’
Opal jiggled and swayed to keep Per content. She nibbled the side of her lower lip. ‘‘I think I’d rather train horses than people.’’
‘‘Why?’’ Ruby reached up to Per. ‘‘Come here, you rough rider, you. Opal isn’t your horse, and since you can’t be gentle, you’ll have to get down.’’
‘‘I’ll set him down.’’ Opal took his hands and swung him to the floor with a ‘‘whee’’ and a gentle landing. ‘‘I better get to work.’’
‘‘Just a minute.’’
Opal stopped and turned to look at Ruby. ‘‘What?’’
‘‘All is well that ends well.’’
‘‘Is that another Bible verse?’’
‘‘No, just a well-used truism.’’
‘‘Just another normal event in life in the badlands?’’
‘‘I guess you could say that.’’
‘‘And I should be thankful in all things.’’
‘‘I’d like to believe you are.’’
‘‘Me too.’’ As Opal headed to the barn for the chicken feed, she thought back to what Ruby had said. Rand was proud of her. He thought she’d done her best, and her best was good enough. No one died or was even hurt, really. Not even that stupid horse that got in a hurry and slipped into the quicksand. She stopped with one hand on the barn door. Thankful. Full of thanks.
How do
I do that, God?
The rooster crowed. A cat wound its mewing way around her ankles. ‘‘Start with all this, eh? Why, it would take all morning to list everything I could be thankful for.’’ She tipped her head back to see another V of geese honking their way southward.
‘‘There’s truly no place on earth I’d rather be than here on the Double H Ranch in the badlands of Dakotah Territory. Thank you, God, that I don’t have to fly south every year. I can just stay put.’’ The barn door creaked a greeting as she stepped into the dimness and inhaled the rich aroma of hay and grain and cows and chickens, along with dust and leather and harness oil—a fragrance far better than any perfume. Something else to be thankful for.
Ruby and Opal watched the men ride toward the river to take the cattle to the Triple Seven.
Go with God. Please, Lord, keep them
safe, all the men, but you know I’m most concerned about my own. Selfish,
I know
. Ruby turned back to the welcome warmth of the house. ‘‘How about stopping by the Robertsons’ and telling Cora that I’ll come visit her tomorrow?’’
‘‘Sure.’’ Opal kept on going through the kitchen and out to the springhouse to get the milk bucket.
Ruby watched her in the dimness of the predawn day. Opal moved with grace, a pleasure to the eye. Even wearing britches, she could never be mistaken for a man. Tall, slender, her long hair fashioned in one braid, she was every inch a woman. Her whistle chimed in with the sleepy songs of the chickadees and finches that roosted in the cottonwood behind the springhouse.
The rooster crowed down at the barn.
Ruby closed the door and returned to the stove. ‘‘You want another cup of coffee, Little Squirrel?’’
‘‘That be good.’’
Ruby poured two cups and set them on the table. ‘‘I’ll have some of that corn bread. How about you?’’
At the assent she poured molasses over the two cut pieces and set the bowls by the coffee cups. ‘‘Sit down. We can finish the dishes later.’’ Ruby took a seat and propped her elbows on the table while she sipped her coffee.
‘‘I dry more pumpkin today. Pick rest of beans.’’
‘‘I’m glad we let the beans dry on the vines. We need more dried beans. The men at the line shacks always go through a lot of them.’’
‘‘Easy to fix.’’
‘‘Do you want to go to the line shack with Linc this winter?’’
‘‘If you want. Baby be born in winter.’’
‘‘I’d rather you stay here where you’ll be warm.’’
And I can
watch out for you. No matter what you think, first babies and mothers
can have problems
. Not that they had a doctor or anything yet in Medora, but there were enough women around to help one another out. Cora Robertson had been with her when Per was born.
Ruby rubbed her belly, thinking of the life growing inside her. Would that she would have a girl this time.
Not that I won’t be joyful
with another boy, Lord, you know that, but I think every woman wants a
little girl too. What would we name her?
She’d caught herself daydreaming about the baby more than once. That is, when Per let her have a moment’s peace, like this precious time in the morning before he woke up. She reached for her Bible that she’d brought to the table. It was too cold out on the porch. How she would miss the time out there, especially watching the sunrise bring Chimney Butte to life. Since their home was snugged into the eastern wall of the valley, the sun had already been up some time by the time she could actually see it, but the reflections on the far wall and peaks came alive with the sun.