Rebellion in the Valley (15 page)

She tilted her head, sticking her tongue out
playfully. Last time she found a rat out in the bin, the only
reason it scared her was because the dumb thing jumped up and ran
across her arm.

“Ya know,” Richard broke in, “a nice hot stew
simmering all day just might give this girl and me a chance to play
a few more rounds of cards out on the front porch. I'm not about to
let you walk away from this thinking you're a better card player
than me.”

She chucked a dishcloth at his head.

“I sure wish Daddy was home. And Tobias,
too,” Hailee blushed.

“Well, near as I can figure, they ought to be
home any day now. That cat couldn’t have gone too far out. They’re
probably on the way back now,” he reassured her.

She tossed her pile of carrot chunks into the
pot and grabbed a couple of potatoes.

“You know what they’re gonna want when they
get back, don’t you?” she asked over her knife.

Richard grinned.

“Yep. They’re gonna be starvin’ for steak and
taters, as Tobias puts it. And your pa is gonna be in the mind for
a big ole chocolate mess cake, I know that much,” he laughed. “You
reckon we oughtta get the pans out and ready before bedtime?”

She nodded and felt a surge of excitement at
the thought of seeing Tobias again after so many days.

“Funny,” she said out loud, “how a girl’s
life can change in just a matter of a few words.”

“Oh? How’s that?” Richard inquired.

She tilted her head and continued to peel the
potato.

“Well, I realized how I felt about Tobias a
while ago, but I didn't have anyone to talk to about all these
things going on in my head. Then in a matter of a few seconds,
really, I accidentally let the beans slip.”

“You know, you still haven’t told me how this
whole thing came to light between the two of you. Wanna spill the
beans just one more time, to catch an old man up to speed?”

She nodded and tossed her contribution of
potato pieces into the stew pot and laid the knife down so she
could concentrate better.

“I sort of told a lady he was my husband when
we were in town...and then I kind of related that conversation to
Tobias.”

Richard’s jaw dropped, and then when he
remembered who was telling the story, he let out a low chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s a Hailee thing to have done;
bet it took him by surprise, huh?”

She thought about it before shaking her
head.

“You know, it didn’t take him back as much as
I was afraid it would have. He wasn’t shocked, anyway, if that’s
what you mean,” she reflected. “He just sort of looked at me. When
he didn’t say anything right away, I'll admit it scared me. But it
was too late to take anything back, and I honestly didn’t even want
to take it back,” she gushed. “He just sat there looking at me like
he was trying to think of something to say. I thought he would
either laugh at me or give me some long speech I hadn’t prepared
myself to hear.”

Richard tapped a finger on the counter top
after she stopped for a breath of air.

“I bet you a plug nickel that boy’s insides
were churning when he heard those words come outta you, girl. I see
more than you know,” he shrugged before continuing. “And I know
that man’s been sweet on you for a year and a half now, maybe
more’n that.”

She dragged a few more vegetables toward her
cutting board. Just as she sliced through the center of a brown
potato, Richard stopped and pulled her toward the window as he
noticed dust and dirt being kicked up in the distance.

“Guess we should put on a little more stew -
looks like your Pa's home,” the cook laid his carving knife down as
he busied himself in the baking cabinets, pulling out a couple of
the cake pans he’d planned on getting out later in the day.

By the time he’d pulled them out and
rearranged the others back into their places on the shelves, Hailee
already stood at the door, eyes scrunched up tight and trying to
make out who could be riding up first when she caught sight of just
three riders, certain none of them were either her father or
Tobias; she frowned.

“Oh, snicklefritz!”

She lumbered back into the kitchen and gave
the report to Richard. “Not Daddy yet. Or Tobias.”

A few minutes later, the back door to the
kitchen slammed open and the youngest ranch hand popped his head in
the house.

“S’cuse me, I don’t mean to show no
disrespect, but there’s been an accident and we’re here just to
grab some supplies and get Doc Amerley and the sheriff. Just wanted
to let you know.”

In the young man’s face, Hailee caught his
deliberate attempt at hiding the facts. Her heart dropped to her
feet and knew in an instant by the unsaid, it must be her father
that had been injured.

With one swift motion, Hailee grabbed the
edge of the counter top and let out a low moan.

“No! Daddy!”

She felt the urge to vomit; sensing her
father's danger, she spun around for Richard’s face to have
something to gauge her own fear scale on and didn’t like what she
picked up as he stepped to her side and shook his head at the
inexperienced ranch hand. He gave the young man a questioning look,
and received the answer he silently asked for. Bruce was in a mess
of trouble.

“What can I do to help?” Richard wanted to
know right away.

“Some extra food might come in handy,
anything you got to throw in a knap sack would be nice. Not sure
how long we’ll be gone for, but I’ll be back for it in five
minutes. I gotta run out to the barn for some things.”

The kitchen door slammed behind him as he
raced for the barn without one more word to either of them.

With Hailee’s mind in a swirl of what could
have gone wrong, she began to shove apples and pears, chunks of
bread and carrots - anything within grabbing distance, into the
sack she found hanging on a nail near the door.

When the ranch hand returned with sweat
pouring off his brow, she sensed the level of emergency even more.
She gave way to the notion that his forehead had been brought into
a wrinkled state she'd only seen on the face of someone much
older.

And although she wanted to, she did not beg
to go along with him. Instead, Hailee only handed the man a filled
sack and told him, “Tell him I love him.”

He looked his boss' daughter straight in the
eye and almost opened his mouth to say something, but resisted and
just gave her a nod of his head. There was no need to say anything
with the look he gave her; the rancher’s daughter knew everything
he wanted to say, deep down in her gut.

She tried to convince herself this wouldn't
turn into anything awfully serious as her eyes watched the young
man and the door shutting behind him.

Chapter 16

H
ailee sat at the kitchen table, head held firmly in place with
both hands. She stared at the tablecloth, not blinking. Images of
her father in places and positions she would have rather leave her
imagination altogether, refused to budge.

Are his legs broken? Is he cold? Did he get
under shelter before that storm hit? When did he last get a bite to
eat? And the question that haunted her heart: what about the
cat?

She prayed her father found that thing before
it found him; Bruce had always been Hailee’s protective hand, the
one who had never shown any signs of weakness. It was unthinkable
for him to ever be anything less.

“Hailee. Eat a few bites of soup; you getting
sick ain’t gonna do your daddy no good. He’s gonna be needing you
more than ever once he gets back home. You’re gonna hafta tend to
animals, help run this ranch. Just tryin’ to live up to his
expectations is gonna leave you plum tuckered out, girl. Eat,”
Richard tried to encourage her.

She lifted her head to reveal a tear-streaked
face and bloodshot eyes. Just as Richard expected to see.

“I know you’re right. Daddy’s going to want
to get back to business as usual, and we’re going to have our hands
full just keeping him in bed. I just feel so guilty to sit here in
the home he owns and operates, eating hot stew from food he worked
hard to grow, while he is God-knows-where, probably cold and I
don’t know what else,” she explained and then muttered under her
breath, “I don’t even want to think about the ‘what else’.”

“I understand. But you hafta know that your
daddy wants you to be safe and healthy, too. Eat, Hailee.”

She nodded and downed two bowls of stew plus
a chunk of sourdough buttermilk bread with a thin layer of sweet
butter as they discussed everything they might be doing over the
following few days, weeks, even into another month ahead.
Concerning the chore of keeping Bruce Johnson in the house and out
of the barn, their joined opinion was simple: this wouldn't be an
easy haul for either one of them.

Good thing they had Tobias Logan on their
side.

P

Duffy seemed eager to get ahead of the
others. Too eager. His attitude had been one of pure arrogance,
voicing his displeasure at being left behind with the other couple
of men while Tobias took off straight ahead without anyone
else.

“He don’t need to act like he’s the boss
man’s best friend,” he spat once again, the words frothing out of
his mouth. “He’s already pretty much got the run of the house and
don’t nobody even say nothing to him about it! If someone don’t do
something about it -,” he was cut short by one of the other
men.

“Look here, Duffy! I don’t know about anyone
else, but I’ve just about had my boot full of hearing you run
Tobias into the ground, and I ain’t gonna stand for it no more!
Now, that man has stood still and never once has he ever taken a
cheap shot at you, even though none of us would have come to your
defense if’n he had of,” he stormed.

The other ranch hand chimed in at that point
with, “Yeah! Seems to me like you oughtta be more concerned with
whether or not we’re ever gonna see Bruce alive again, rather than
who gets to go inside the main house when he wants to. What is your
problem, anyhow?”

No need to say any more, the three men
exchanged looks of disgust and spent the next hour or so in
silence.

As the day moved along, the men tugged their
coats up a notch or two higher around their necks to divert the
chilly winds. Their horses began to act skittish, as if they had
long since become bored or would rather be anywhere else than where
they were at the moment.

In a sudden gesture of what he mistook as a
rebellious spirit in his horse, one of the ranch hands yanked back
on his reins to prevent it from walking crooked. His horse had
suddenly taken the notion to begin backing up and kicking its
hooves somewhat; at first thought, the ranch hands began to scout
the ground for a snake. But then when they realized it was far too
cold for snakes to be out, it was too late to think much more. The
horse had reared up just ever so much, and when the ranch hand’s
eyes lifted, he spied a long golden tail swishing back and forth in
the not-far-enough distance.

There sat the cat. On top of a large boulder,
centered in the depths of a crag no more than fifty yards away!

Even Duffy found himself taken aback in
surprise, stunned for a moment before allowing his eyes to register
what they were actually viewing right there in plain sight.

All three men froze in the middle of the
pathway and dared not even look at one another, dared not make one
more movement until at last, Duffy leaned back and instructed
someone to take a shot.

He reached into his own bootleg for a meat
saw that he’d kept back in case of an emergency.

“Hey, Duffy. You told us you lost your meat
saws a couple of days ago. You got stuff hid on us?”

“I don’t hafta answer to you or nobody else,”
he scolded. “You just keep your aim on that dang cat, will ya?”

The men kicked their horses in a gentle move,
just enough to get them moving along in a slow walk. With eyes on
the cat, they knew very well the cat was doing the same to
them.

P

The muffled plea for help coming from his
friend’s horse is what drew Tobias’ attention toward the patch of
wet grass and broken branches near the creek.

He dropped Epoenah’s reins and stood there in
the brush, ankle-deep in wet leaves and broken twigs.

“Bruce?”

No answer.

“Oh, no! Bruce,” his hoarse voice coughed out
a couple of curses as he made wide steps to his friend’s side; a
limb off a scrub oak had gone clean through his left leg on the way
down the incline – his friend had been bleeding a great deal by the
large stain covering his dungarees.

Tobias studied the leg wound cautiously.
Having never seen anything like it before, he had no idea how to
move the man without causing more harm than good, but thought he
remembered hearing somewhere in the back of his head not to remove
an object if it had gotten stuck as far as this limb had. He
crouched down just enough to hold the back of his dirty hand up to
Bruce’s forehead and frowned. He placed an open palm against his
neck and hung his head.

“Well, Boss,” he glanced toward his friend’s
horse, “this sure is a situation, don’t ya think?” He turned his
head upward to look once more at how far the owner of the Red Bone
Ranch had tumbled down the canyon wall; when his gaze fell back on
Bruce, he winced at the large bruise covering the side of his head,
already showing a stomach-turning shade of brownish-blue.

He stood again, his eyes scanning the terrain
for saddle, bedroll, or any of Bruce’s other belongings, knowing
full well what the future held out for the whinnying horse laying
only feet away. A fella’s horse became his companion over time, and
this one had served Bruce and the Red Bone faithfully since they
bought her a couple of years earlier; the thought of putting her to
rest gnawed at him to the point of feeling ill.