To Know Her by Name (9 page)

“Tell him I'm all right and will send word as soon as I'm back in Boulder.”

“All right,” Travis agreed, but then looked concerned. “Can you tell me what happened up here?”

McKay nodded and briefly filled him in. He ended by saying, “I woke up in the bedroom right there,” McKay pointed to the door. “And until last week I wasn't really aware of anything.”

“This happened on what day?”

“The Tuesday after I met you.”

Travis nodded again. “I've brought some extra supplies if you can use them. Is there anything else you need?”

“Just your prayers,” McKay said softly. “I've never been so weak before, and it's hard to be patient.”

“I think I understand. Listen, if you need to see me when you get back to Boulder, don't hesitate to stop in.”

“I'm not sure I'll have time, but I won't forget your offer,” McKay assured him.

“I'm going to head out and hopefully get home tonight,” Travis went on. “I'll go for my horse and the supplies, but I'll come back in and say goodbye.”

Travis slipped out then, returning with several food items and some wrapped bandages that he laid on the table. He then spoke to his hostess. “I'll just leave these with you, Pup.”

“All right,” she agreed. “Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need right now?” He was still talking to Pup.

“I'm in good shape for a few weeks. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Travis turned to the injured man, and McKay put out his hand. They shook and Travis said goodbye. He would have said the same to Pup, but she stopped him.

“Do you know the circle pines, Travis?”

“Yes.”

“If it were me, and I didn't hit the pines by dark, I'd stay on the mountain tonight.”

“Thanks, Pup. I'll remember that.”

“Did your wife have her baby?” she asked unexpectedly.

“Not yet. Another two months or so. She's the reason I want to get back.”

“I can understand that,” Pup told him and watched as he looked at her. She saw the pity in his eyes but was used to either that or scorn from the people in Boulder. At least with Travis she knew he meant well. A moment later he said his final goodbyes to Pup and McKay and took his leave.

Pup, who had gone on with her work, had nothing to say when he left; McKay was quiet as well. He never dreamed that Carlyle would contact Buchanan, but right now he was very thankful for both men.

8

McKay made himself get up every morning and dress as best he could in the clean clothing Pup always had ready for him. He had yet to make it past the front porch, but he could feel the progress, the slow healing of his body. It had nearly killed him not to return to Boulder with Travis, but he'd been honest when he said he would never have made it. He was walking around the cabin more, but most of his days were spent sitting or lying on the sofa. It was during this time that some light was shed on Mud's cryptic answer about his hostess.

There wasn't a time when Pup came into the cabin that she didn't trip on the threshold. She knocked pans from the stove and bowls from the table. She spilled water and food down the front of herself daily. She continued to dress his wound with tenderness and surprising skill, but when it came to the rest of the cabin, she was an accident waiting to happen. “Clumsy little pup,” must have been the phrase that started the nickname, and McKay could see why. But what most fascinated him was that Pup herself seemed completely unaware that anything was amiss.

If he lived to be a hundred, he would never forget the morning she set a kitchen towel on fire. It didn't burst into immediate flames, but did smoke and flame slightly before she noticed it. At first McKay was too stunned to react, and about the time he was ready to open his mouth and warn her, she had spotted it. He was speechless as she made a face that showed the inconvenience of it all and calmly poured some water from the pitcher to douse the fire. The room was a little smoky after that, but she only opened the front door. She didn't turn to him with any type of comment or apology but went back to the meal preparations. She wiped at the mark that it made on the stove top but never referred to it again.

It had been two weeks and four days since he'd been shot, and tonight was the first night McKay was going to join Pup at the dinner table. As he sat in his usual place on the sofa, however, the burned towel incident strongly in his mind, he wondered if this was safe.

“Are you getting hungry?” Pup interrupted his thoughts as she entered the cabin carrying a basket. She tripped but never dropped a thing.

“A little. I thought I would come to the table tonight.”

“Suit yourself,” she said mildly.

Do things really mean so little to her, Lord? Is she really so disinterested? Or is it because I'm a stranger who has moved into her home?
On the heels of these questions McKay remembered the man he shot. She hadn't had much more to say to Travis Buchanan than she did to him, but he must never forget that it was he who shot Govern Hackett. What exactly they had meant to each other McKay could only guess, but he reminded himself that she might never feel overly friendly toward him.

When he saw Pup putting plates and flatware on the table, he rose. He was acutely aware of his bare feet and uncombed hair, but his hostess took no notice. Sitting opposite of where he'd seen her sit, he saw with pleasant surprise that she'd made muffins. McKay spoke when Pup joined him at the table.

“I don't wish to be presumptuous, but would you mind if I returned grace?”

“No.”

Her tone didn't indicate any emotion, so taking her at her word, McKay bowed his head.

“Heavenly Father, I thank You for this day. I thank You for Callie's hard work on the meal and for the care she has given me. I thank You for the food she prepared. I ask You to bless us this evening and protect us through the night. Amen.”

“Amen,” Pup agreed softly, and then passed the bowl of rabbit stew to her guest.

They dished up in silence, but soon McKay commented, “My mother makes rabbit stew. It's my father's favorite.”

“It's tastier than squirrel.”

“I think so, too.”

“Do you want coffee or water?”

“I think water.”

Pup rose and brought him a glass.

“Thank you.”

She didn't reply to this, and all other attempts at conversation fell flat. She would look at him when he spoke and answer if he asked a direct question, but she offered little if anything of her own. McKay resigned himself to eating in silence just as he bit into his second muffin. With the food still in his mouth, a shudder went all through his body. Pup noticed and stopped eating.

“Are you in pain?”

McKay pulled the muffin away from his lips. Hanging from the muffin was most of an eggshell. Pup scowled at it.

“I wondered where that went,” she said blandly before passing him the basket so he could take another.

McKay shook his head no and forced himself to chew what was in his mouth. The crackle of shell was a bit hard to take, but he chased it all down with water. The drink made him feel slightly better, but another little piece in his teeth caused a second shudder.

He wondered when he would stop being surprised by Callie Jennings. While he was still laid up in bed and even resting on the sofa, she had tripped and nearly fallen on him several times. It was not at all unusual for her to stumble and empty half his water or coffee into his plate when she was bringing him a meal. She often bumped him with her arm, hitting him once in the eye and on the nose and several times on the chin: All things his mother would have begged forgiveness for. Callie Jennings never said a word.

He could honestly say he'd never met anyone like her. With this feeling came more pity. Maybe he shouldn't pity her—after all, she did have a friend in Mud, and Govern had obviously cared enough to come back to her once in a while. But her oddities, her solitude, her silence, and the whole situation wrung his heart in pity.

“I've got berries again. Are you interested?”

“That sounds good, thank you.”

She brought a small bowl of blackberries to the table and set it between them. She had sweetened them with a bit of sugar, and they were very tasty. Between the two of them they finished the bowl.

“That was delicious.”

Pup only nodded and stood to work on the dishes. Having decided to help her, McKay stood as well, but things spun a little when he was on his feet. He gripped the edge of the table for a moment and then looked up to find Pup's eyes on him.

“I can get the dishes. Do you want help to the sofa or bedroom?”

“The sofa.”

He tried not to lean too heavily on her as they moved, but he was feeling rather weak. It was a relief when he was able to sink down into the cushions.

“You want your Bible?” Pup surprised him by asking.

“Yes, please,” McKay said softly, his heart amazed. He thanked her when she handed it to him and then had a long, silent talk with the Lord. He wouldn't have believed that she even noticed. He'd been looking for an opportunity to talk to her about his faith but had given up on finding one.

I didn't ask believing, Lord. I wanted to, but didn't think there would be a way. You love Callie Jennings as much as You love all of us. If You want me to talk to her, Lord, just open the door.

Three days later, and exactly three weeks since he'd been shot, McKay turned another corner. He could still feel that ache in his shoulder and some stiffness in his limbs, but he knew by bedtime that he was well enough to ride back to Boulder. In fact, when he finally climbed into bed, he didn't immediately fall asleep. Darkness had descended, but he was not that tired. This, too, told him he was ready to go. He had ventured only to the porch and into the front yard on his own, but he knew it was time. He was prepared to take it easy, even sleep a few nights in the hills if need be, but tomorrow he would get a nice early start back to Boulder.

It was during all of these plans that McKay heard the noise. At first he thought it was in the cabin but then quickly realized it was outside. Immediate concern for Pup sprang into his mind and he reached for his pants. He ignored his shirt but swiftly pulled on his boots. The cabin was completely dark, but the moon shining into Pup's bedroom illumined it enough to tell him the bed was empty. He made his way to the door. He was no more than outside when he heard a splash.

Although McKay had never been around the back of the cabin, he swiftly circled the log structure in the direction he'd heard the noise. The moon was nearing full so he was able to move through the trees with some light for his path. He came out in a clear spot that gave him a good view of the lake and stopped. Not 30 seconds later he watched someone, presumably Pup, come from the water. He stared as she reached with one hand toward her face. With the moon at her back he couldn't make out any of her features, but the image of long limbs danced before his eyes. Just a heartbeat later he spun away.

Pup heard the popping of a twig and spoke. “Is that you, McKay?”

“Yes, it's me!” he sounded testy. “What are you doing out here with no clothes on?” he demanded.

“Taking a bath in the lake like I do every night.”

“That's ridiculous!” he told her bluntly, his back still turned, his heart pounding. “You don't even know me. I might have attacked you.”

There was silence for a moment, and when Pup spoke it was clear that she'd moved closer.

“I don't think you're the type of man to attack a woman, McKay,” she said reasonably, and then added with maddening calm, “and if you did, I'd just shoot you.”

McKay didn't hear anything after that but chanced a peek over his shoulder. Pup was moving away from him now toward the cabin. She had wrapped some sort of light-colored robe around her and sure enough, her rifle was held in one hand.