Authors: Dorothy Annie Schritt
Tags: #romance love children family home husband wife mother father grandparents wealthy poverty cowboy drama ranch farm farmstead horses birth death change reunion faith religion god triumph tragedy
I forgave him.
1967-1968
A Cool Head
By April I still wasn’t showing. Gosh,
where was my little baby hiding? I had only gained four and a half
pounds, which concerned Doc Sam. But, as he said, everything seemed
fine with all the blood tests.
Shay was planning to take a semi-truck
trip to the Sand Hills, with a quick jaunt to the Black Hills to
pick up a load of grain on the way back (you lost money trucking
empty, which they called deadheading, so the Westovers made sure
never to do it.)
To my amazement, Shay asked if I would
like to go along. He said we’d only be gone a couple of days, and
promised I’d be safe.
“I won’t let anything happen to you or
the baby,” he assured me.
Walking through the master suite on
his way to his desk, Shay saw all my suitcases on the floor. I had
packed a dozen pairs of jeans, over a dozen tops, tennis shoes,
flats, heels, boots, underwear, pajamas and all of my
cosmetics.
“Miss Callie, come here,” I heard Shay
say while I was brushing my teeth in the bathroom.
I went out to the main sitting area,
toothbrush in my mouth and gave him a ‘what?’ look.
“Can you tell me what all this stuff
is,” Shay asked.
“That's what I'm taking on the truck
trip," I answered with a mouthful of toothpaste.
“Honey, we may be taking a semi, but
that’s more than it will hold.” Shay shook his head in amazement.
“You only need two pairs of jeans, if that, a couple tops, a
sweatshirt or two, and your boots. We’re driving straight through.
When we do stop to sleep, it will be in the sleeper, and believe
me, you need to keep your clothes on while we sleep.”
“What? We’re sleeping in our clothes?
Why?”
“Darlin’, trust me. Just plan on
sleeping in your clothes. I didn’t say there wouldn’t be times
you’d have your clothes off, but when we sleep it will be in
clothes. The road is a tough life. Never know who you’ll meet and
when.”
I ended up taking a small overnight
case and one makeup bag.
The night before the big trip, Mom and
Dad came by and picked up the kids. We left early the next morning.
Wow. I was in a semi-truck. I’d been asking Shay to take me along
on one of his trucking trips for years! I couldn’t believe how high
up we were sitting. You could just see everything. I was scared,
truly scared. But I didn’t let Shay know. I was going to be real
good on this trip and make him proud of the way I handled
everything. Then maybe he’d take me again. We trucked that whole
day except to fuel up and eat, then back on the road.
While we were driving, Shay told me
one day he wanted to have his own trucking business.
“You don’t want to work for your dad?”
I asked him, surprised. The family business had been good to
us.
“I have my dreams, too,” he said.
I filed it away, Shay’s dream; a
little part of him I hadn’t known before.
Around 8:30 p.m. we hit the ranch. I
couldn’t wait to take a bath. Well, that bubble was soon burst.
“Callie, stay in the truck. I’m going
to drive to the barn and some of the hands will unload this feed,
then we’re taking right off.”
We unloaded and were on the road again
in about an hour and a half. Shay said if I was tired, to crawl in
the sleeper, cover up and sleep awhile. I didn’t want to leave him
alone in the cab, so I stayed up. Around 5 a.m. Shay pulled into a
truck stop and fueled up. He told me to get in the sleeper: we were
going to sleep a few hours. I tell you it was smaller than a twin
bed, two of us cuddled together. I swear it was the size of an army
cot. It wasn’t long before my clothes were off.
“Shay, I thought we had to sleep in
our clothes?”
“Who said we’re going to sleep?”
Trucker sex! We had trucker sex! There
is only room for one person in bed with trucker sex; the other
person has to have the top or bottom, that’s all the room there
is.
Afterward, we had to get dressed to go
to sleep. Seemed turned around to me. I had promised myself I was
going to be a happy trucker woman. My complaints were starting to
pile up, but I kept them to myself.
***
We were back on the road and trucking by 9
a.m. Shay said he knew a shortcut to Rapid City, but the road was
steep and it was a two lane.
“Well, don’t look at me,” I said.
Let me describe this road. It was
narrow; one side had mountains, the other had a steep drop-off, at
least a hundred feet down or more. It was overcast that time of the
morning, with random patches of snow-packed ice in spots on the
road. So far we had only met one car and I will admit, Shay was
going fairly slow. I was scared, so I was just being silent,
holding on to a handle above the passenger’s side door. I don’t
think we even had seat belts back then.
“How many more miles of this, Shay?” I
asked tentatively.
“Well, we’ve gone about five miles,
Callie, with fifty-five miles to go. So just relax.”
He kept looking out of the side
mirrors. Why did he care what was back there? He needed to be
watching the road ahead. I was trying so hard, but the scared
Callie was starting to show up. Right around then I heard a loud
noise. All of a sudden a truck came flying around us, with all this
white smoke coming out from behind.
“Shay!” I yelled. “What in hell is he
doing?!”
“Callie,” Shay said coolly. “He’s lost
his brakes. I have to go get him and help him down this
mountain.”
“
What!
How would you do
that
? We can’t help him, there’s nothing you can do!” I
cried hysterically.
“I’ve got to go get him, Callie.”
“What does that mean?”
Shay didn’t answer, just stepped on
the gas. He got as close behind the runaway truck as he could, then
started to pull out to go around him.
“Shay, no! We’ll be killed! I’m
pregnant! We have babies at home. We’ll never see them again if you
do this!”
The road was curving, still with that
steep drop off. I just knew this was where we were going to die: on
a two-lane road in the Black Hills, trying to take a shortcut to
save time. I was going ballistic.
“Get in the sleeper right now,
Callie,” Shay said coolly, “and brace yourself. He may have babies
too. I have to do this or he’s dead.”
I did as he said. At first I was
screaming and crying. Then I just shut, and started praying, asking
God to let me see my babies again. All of a sudden I got this real
peaceful feeling. I heard a terrible grinding sound, punctuated by
a large thump. The truck seemed to be bumping into something. After
about six or seven bumps, I could feel we were slowing down.
“Are we dead yet?” I yelled from the
sleeper.
“We’re okay, Callie, just stay in
there for a while,” Shay called back.
Shay must have brought him all the way
down, many miles, and finally we slowed to a stop.
“Callie,” Shay yelled from the cab.
“You need to get out, our brakes are on fire. But we’ll be okay,
princess.”
You have never seen anyone scamper out
of a truck bed faster than I did; then I threw up several times.
The other trucker was sobbing and Shay had his arm on his shoulder.
He needed to be holding me! Not giving the other guy support, I
thought.
I guess several cars had to pull off
to avoid a head-on with us. I thanked God for making it a place
where the cars could just go around us. Truly, God was watching
over us. Someone called a couple of wreckers and they came out and
got both trucks. The company the other driver worked for was so
grateful to Shay for saving their driver and their truck, that they
put us up for three nights in a motel while our brakes were being
fixed, and picked up the check. Eventually, they sent Shay a bonus
safety check for a thousand dollars.
The other trucker stayed at the same
motel while he waited for his truck repairs, and he came to our
room several times to thank Shay. Well, Shay was right, the man did
have four small children. Shay was just his hero. I wonder what
he’d have thought of me if he knew I was against helping him for my
own personal safety. But that Shay, he was something else. All man.
Always putting himself in danger for another. I can’t even describe
how proud I was of him, how much I loved that man.
***
It was a good thing we had the three nights
in the motel, because after the runaway truck incident, I got sick.
I think the stress made me ill. Shay called a doctor, and he came
by our room after his office hours. The doctor said I was okay, but
a few days in bed would do me good. Well, three days in bed with
Mr. Shay was just what the doctor ordered. Shay was so manly, yet
he could be so damn tender. He made me stay in bed and fed me.
“I still can’t believe you did that,
Shay,” I told him one time in bed while he was feeding me soup.
“And you kept so calm. Weren’t you frightened?”
“Callie,” he said. “I don’t know how
to explain this to you, but let me try. Yes, I was frightened, but
if I’m going to go down, I want to do it with a cool head. Does
that make any sense? If it’s going to happen, embrace your destiny.
I’d rather go out calm than all hysterical. You just freak out,
princess. And what good does that do?” he asked in a sweet
tone.
***
Well, I’d had just about enough trucker woman
excitement for one lifetime. It was a good feeling to be home and
safe. I just hugged my babies until they said, “Mommy, you’re
hugging to tight.”
When I told my parents about what
happened, my dad said, “Well, if anyone could pull that off, it
would be Shay.”
I still marvel at all the things that
man could do. Heck, I called him a man but the truth was, we were
both still kids. We were just twenty-five years old.
Marie
In Shay’s spare time, which wasn’t
much, he decided to build a stock car to race. He’d found an old
Chevelle sports car, and he was souping up the engine, doing the
bodywork himself so he could prime it. Silly guy, he bought his
race helmet before he even started working on the car. He’d come
in, eat supper, and go out for a few hours to work on the car.
One day I went out to the shop with a
glass of tea with orange juice in it and those same two girls from
Hudson were there, watching Shay work, talking with their little
girly giggles. I guess old habits die hard.
Shay was at the workbench putting
something together. I stomped into the shop, he turned to look at
me and I just sloshed the tea right in his face.
“Damn you, Shay,” I said, whirling
around and heading out the door. “You’re sleeping on the sofa
tonight!”
It was but one second and he had my
arm. He grabbed me and held me gently, like he was holding an
angel. Then he gave me a long, sensual kiss. "I'll see you in bed
tonight, princess," he said in a don't play-games-with-me-Callie
voice, and went back into the shop.
I just stood there, completely turned
on by that man. I couldn’t wait until he got into bed that night.
Now I wasn’t stupid. I knew Shay had discovered a way to settle me
down quickly. He knew he could gentle me in his arms. Wonder when
he discovered that little trick. I left not even giving the girls a
second thought—all I could think about was what I was going to do
to make my Shay Man extra-happy that night.
***
One afternoon I saw Shay putting his chaps on
in the mudder and fadder room.
“What are you doing, Shay, why the
chaps?” I asked.
“We got five new horses, Callie, they
haven’t been broken yet so this afternoon I’m going to start
breaking them.”
“Isn’t that dangerous Shay?”
“Can be, but it’s got to be done. You
just stay inside, and don’t be worrying about me, princess.”
I didn’t wait very long before I
grabbed my jean jacket and headed for the corral. There were lots
of guys around the fence watching. I couldn’t take my eyes off
Shay. What a rider. He could have ridden in rodeos. I’ve never seen
such maneuvering. Shay stayed with the wild young horse, kicking
and bucking, until he rode him out, never once getting bucked off.
My Shay Man was some cowboy, and what a sexy cowboy he was. It was
a side of him I hadn’t seen, a side that turned me on beyond
words.
When he walked into our bedroom that
night, I greeted him in nothing but chaps.
“Saw your moves today, cowboy,” I
said, sidling up to him. “Wondered if you’d ride this little filly
next.”
***
Shay had about eight or nine best friends
from high school, Kevin being his closest. Every year they went on
a four-day hunting trip to Cheyenne, Wyoming. I knew it was more of
a guys’ get-away-and-let-your-hair-down trip, but I didn’t ask any
questions.
One night we all met at the club and
all the guys were drinking pretty heavily. I was proud that Shay
was only having beer; he was keeping his promise to me. Somehow he
just didn’t get drunk on beer. I think there were five or six
couples. Max and his wife, Lindy (who I didn’t know very well),
were really getting plowed.
At one point Max looked at me and, out
of the blue, said, “Hell, Shd, Arial,sansay’s pussy-whipped.”
“No, he isn’t,” I retorted. “Why would
you say that?”
“Well,” he said, right there in front
of everyone, including his wife, “when we were in Cheyenne on our
hunting trip, we each had our own motel room and everyone had his
own hooker. Every guy’s dream sex. But you should have heard this
guy,” he said, pointing at Shay.
Shay just shook his head slowly.
“We all met the next morning for
breakfast,” continued Max, oblivious to the rising tension at the
table, “and everyone’s telling everyone about their night of
fantasy. So what does this guy say?” Max pointed again at Shay. “He
says, ‘When I’m with another woman, all I do is fantasize about my
wife. She’s my fantasy.’”