Opal (13 page)
‘‘If you’d been more careful, he might have slept longer.’’
Opal spun in place. ‘‘Why are you so crabby all the time? I can’t ever do anything right anymore.’’ She clomped down the hall, her boot heels taking the punishment for her ire.
She brought Per back into the kitchen a few minutes later, set him in his chair with a rusk, made her bread with sour cream and jelly, and left without saying another word.
Guess I won’t be telling her the good news about Per’s first steps in the
near future
.
When the time came the biscuits should be in the oven, Opal had not yet returned.
Little Squirrel set the ingredients out and cut the lard into the flour. ‘‘I do.’’
‘‘That girl . . .’’ Ruby felt her stomach roil. She started out the back door to the outhouse. Something sure hadn’t agreed with her. The smell of frying sage hen made her want to gag.
Opal met her at the door. ‘‘Sorry I’m late, I—Ruby, are you all right?’’
‘‘No.’’ Ruby pushed on by but never made it to the building out back before she had to stop and heave. Coffee tasted even more bitter coming up than it had going down.
Opal handed her a wet cloth when she finished. ‘‘I’m sorry you are sick.’’
‘‘Ja, me too. Thanks for the cloth.’’
‘‘Can I get you some water?’’
‘‘No. I’ll sit down a minute, and then I’ll be fine.’’ Ruby sank down on the edge of the porch.
‘‘Put your head between your knees. That’s what you tell me.’’
‘‘No. I’m better. Little Squirrel already started the biscuits. You go help her.’’
Opal sighed but did as ordered.
All the mess with Opal, and now I feel so sick. Lord, what is going
on?
Ruby rubbed her forehead.
Am I really crabby?
‘‘Look at that. Per is walking.’’ Opal turned to Ruby in surprise. Ruby looked up from her mending. ‘‘He has been for several days.’’
‘‘Thought it was yesterday.’’ Rand held out his hands. ‘‘Come on, little man. Come to Pa.’’
‘‘And you didn’t tell me?’’
‘‘Sorry. Guess I was so busy throwing up in the bushes I forgot.’’
How come everything I do lately makes her crabby at me?
Opal picked Per up and blew on his neck to make him laugh. ‘‘Can you say Opal?’’
‘‘Da, da. Mmm da.’’
‘‘Opal.’’ She spoke her name slowly.
‘‘Ma?’’
‘‘No, O-pal.’’
He blew a raspberry.
‘‘Now, don’t go getting him all wound up. It’s about bedtime.’’
‘‘I won’t.’’ Opal rolled her eyes.
Can’t even play with the baby
right
.
‘‘So are there games and races and such at school tomorrow?’’ Rand laid his copy of the Medora newspaper,
The Badlands Cowboy,
in his lap.
‘‘Yes, and prizes. I had perfect attendance this year.’’ She set Per back down at his father’s knee, then knelt on the floor a couple feet away. ‘‘Come on, little guy. Walk to me.’’
Per grinned at her, banged his fists on his father’s knees, did his deep knee bends, and then, arms in the air, took the four steps to Opal’s arms.
‘‘Does he always do the sort of bobbing up and down first?’’
‘‘Has to get wound up to go.’’ Rand folded his paper and, setting it aside, leaned forward. ‘‘Come to Pa. Come on, Per.’’
Per did his little dance and struck out, his steps growing more sure with each foray.
Opal glanced up in time to catch Ruby in a yawn.
She doesn’t
look good. She’s got huge circles under her eyes. Please, God, don’t let Ruby
be sick. Maybe that’s why she’s so crabby
.
Ruby closed her Bible and laid it on the table beside her chair. ‘‘I’m never this tired.’’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘‘I can’t even read my Bible without falling asleep.’’
‘‘You go on to bed. I’ll put Per down.’’ Opal clapped her hands, and Per copied her, but the effort plunked him down on his diapered rear, which made him giggle as he rolled to his hands and knees and crawled back to Opal.
‘‘Drool face.’’ She clapped her hands again while he pulled himself upright on her knee.
‘‘Thank you. I’ll feel better in the morning.’’ Ruby stood, trying to cover her yawn and failing, which made Opal yawn, and then Rand caught it too.
‘‘Good night, everyone.’’
‘‘ ’Night.’’ Opal turned and watched her sister walk down the hall to her bedroom. Ruby was usually the last one to go to bed.
Ghost crossed the room to lie beside Opal. She patted her head, watching Per walk around her knee, jabbering and drooling, and throw himself on the dog.
Ghost looked up at her. Opal chuckled. ‘‘You don’t have to put up with that, you know. You could move.’’
‘‘I never dreamed she’d be so good with a baby. But they say cow dogs will take care of any little critter. They’ve even been known to nurse kittens.’’ Rand wiggled his fingers, beckoning Per, who gave him a toothy grin and laid his head on Ghost’s side.
‘‘No.’’ Opal couldn’t believe what Rand said.
‘‘True. Happened back home. Cow dogs, sheep dogs, they have such a mothering instinct.’’
‘‘Bet those old cows don’t think so when Ghost rounds them up. They’d just as soon hook her with the tip of a horn.’’
‘‘She’s too smart to let that happen.’’
‘‘Easy.’’ Opal removed Per’s clench on Ghost’s ear. ‘‘Pet her nice.’’ At his babbling, she covered his hand with her own and gently stroked the dog’s head. ‘‘See?’’ She picked him up and sat him in her cross-legged lap. ‘‘Just think, after tomorrow, no more school.’’
‘‘Until fall.’’
‘‘I think I’ve had enough schooling.’’ There, she’d said it again. Perhaps the more it was said, the more it could become real.
‘‘Ruby wants you to go on longer.’’
‘‘I know, but what for? I don’t want to be a schoolteacher, and half the time that’s what I do, help with the little kids.’’
‘‘You could go to high school in Bismarck.’’
‘‘And leave the ranch?’’ Horror struck like a ravaging wolf.
Rand leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘‘You know Ruby wants the best for you.’’
‘‘Ruby wants what
she
thinks is the best for me.’’
‘‘Many kids your age would be jealous that you can go to school.’’
‘‘That’s not my concern.’’ She leaned her head against Per’s head as he rested against her shoulder. He was so little and sweet. ‘‘I better put you to bed, little guy.’’ She looked up at Rand. ‘‘There’s plenty of work for me here on the ranch, and I could start training horses for some of the other ranchers around here.’’
‘‘You’re right, we have plenty to do, and you could do worse than apprenticing to Linc.’’ He rubbed the bridge of his nose with one finger. ‘‘It’s just that you should take every advantage to better yourself.’’
‘‘You want I should apply to be a maid over at the big house or in town?’’
‘‘No. That’s not going to help you out.’’
‘‘I could get married, I suppose.’’ But she shuddered inside. While that might be what would happen down the road, least if Atticus had his way, she knew she wasn’t ready for that yet. Being cooped up in a house sounded worse than Indian torture. She rose without uncrossing her legs, Per in one arm.
‘‘Say good-night to your pa, little guy.’’ She held him out for a kiss and took him back to change his diaper and pull his nightshirt over his head. Sitting down in the rocker, she set it to singing and hummed a little tune while she patted his back. Moonlight painted squares on the pine flooring. A nighthawk called. Coyotes yipped far enough away to be faint as a whisper.
‘‘Oh no.’’ She laid the drowsy baby down in his bed, tucked the covers around him, and headed back to the living room and the door.
‘‘Where you going?’’
‘‘I forgot to lock the chickens in.’’
‘‘Check on the sow then too, would you? She’s going to farrow any night now.’’
‘‘Sure.’’
Opal stopped on the porch and looked up at the sky, easily finding the Big Dipper and smiling at the density of the Milky Way that arched directly overhead. An owl hooted, and she heard the rush of its flapping wings as it hunted for careless rodents. Tonight would have been perfect for lying out to watch the stars.
Moonlight drew the shadows dense black, the barn, house, even the blades of grass etched around by silver light.
She inhaled and held the breath, savoring the fragrance of pine, a hint of woodsmoke, green growing grass, and a slight tinge of horse and cow. The slightest breeze floated from the west, carrying the moo of a cow and the whisper of cottonwood leaves sharing secrets. The sounds of her feet swishing through the grass and of her own breathing glided in the air as she made her way to her charges. To ride across the plains, to run and throw herself into the river, to fly like the owl, to stride the Milky Way bridged across the heavens—anything seemed possible on this most perfect night.
Instead, she closed the door to the chicken house, hearing the flock inside rustle and peep, aware of her intrusion into their rest. The sow lay on her side, back against the fence.
‘‘You all right, girl?’’
The pig grunted in answer. One flapping ear caught an edge of moonlight. The smell of the pigpen melded with the others, all inherent elements of ranch living.
Opal headed back to the house. The rooster would crow far sooner than her eyes would want to open.
‘‘Some night, isn’t it?’’ Rand was leaning against a porch post.
‘‘Wish I could go riding.’’
‘‘Me too.’’
‘‘Maybe tomorrow night?’’
He dropped an arm across her shoulders. ‘‘We’ll see.’’
‘‘Sow’s outside, sleeping against the fence.’’
‘‘She’s not started a nest yet?’’
‘‘I threw some of the old hay in for her this evening.’’
‘‘Good girl.’’
Later Opal stared out her bedroom window.
Ruby thinks I’d
want to trade this for a visit to New York? You could hardly see the stars
there. Not like here. The sky is so huge, like a bowl with pinprick holes in
it for the stars to shine through
. Even when she crawled under her covers, she turned to see the sky. A shooting star bisected her window.
Ah. Make a wish
. She closed her eyes.
I wish . . . I wish I was the
best horse trainer in Dakotah Territory. No, in the whole West
.
She returned from milking in the morning to find Ruby puking into the bushes again. Opal set the milk pail down so fast it sloshed and went to wrap her arms around her sister’s midsection.
‘‘Ruby.’’
‘‘I-I’m fine.’’ She slumped against Opal, eyes closed, wiping her mouth with the hem of her apron.
‘‘Sit down. I’ll get you some water.’’ Opal eased her over to the porch and kept a hand on her shoulder as she sank to sitting and leaned against the post.
‘‘I thought I was better this morning, but now at least I’m sure what is wrong.’’
‘‘What?’’ Opal laid a hand against her sister’s sweaty forehead. ‘‘You don’t have a fever.’’
‘‘No, but I think I have a little brother or sister for Per.’’
Opal paused, her smile widening by the moment. ‘‘Another baby?’’
Ruby nodded. ‘‘All the signs are here.’’
‘‘When do you think it will be born?’’
‘‘Might be a Christmas baby.’’
‘‘Ohh.’’ Opal sat down beside her sister, glanced out to where she’d left the milk bucket, and leaped to her feet. ‘‘Get out of there, Cat.’’ She ran over, scooped up the bucket, and took it into the springhouse so she could run it through the strainer, a clean cloth clamped to a square frame that fit over a jug that Little Squirrel had set up.
She poured the milk slowly so as not to run it over, all the while thinking,
Baby, a new baby in our house
. She remembered when Ruby had been with child before. She’d been tired then too, and yes, she’d been crabby. Not as bad as she’d been lately, but that must be what was causing it. As soon as the milk had run through, she dipped water out of the cooling tank to scrub the bucket, rinsed out the cloth, and dumped the used water into the slop bucket. Like the whey from cheese making and milk that turned sour, all was fed to the pig and the chickens.
Whistling, she headed for the house, grateful Ruby was no longer sitting on the step. She must be feeling better.
After chores and breakfast Opal met the Robertson girls at the road, if one could call the track a real road, and they whooped and hollered their delight as they loped the horses into town.
Most everyone got to school early and were lined up to go in before the ringing of the first bell.
‘‘My goodness, you must all be excited to study today.’’ Even Mr. Finch wore a smile.
Once they were seated, he announced, ‘‘We will start with the spelling bee. There will be a prize for the two finalists. Line up on both sides of the room, please, young ones closest to the front. I will give you words according to your reading level.’’ He waved his hand, and the room whooshed into two lines like the parting of the Red Sea.
‘‘There will be no prompting.’’ He stared at them until they all agreed.
Opal and Virginia Robertson were the last two standing.
Mr. Finch nodded to them both and read the next word. ‘‘Fugacious.’’
Opal listened hard. ‘‘Would you use that in a sentence, please?’’
The teacher did so. ‘‘The fugacious boy disappeared in the woods.’’
Opal scrunched her eyes half shut. She locked her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘‘F-u-g-a . . .’’
Which one—
c
or
sh
?
‘‘F-u-g-a-c-i-o-u-s. Fugacious.’’
‘‘Correct.’’
They could most likely hear her sigh of relief clear to the ranch.
He gave the next word to Virginia, who spelled
granivorous
promptly.
‘‘Miss Harrison, leucoderma.’’
Opal smiled. She knew that one and spelled it.
‘‘Miss Robertson, nihilistic.’’
This time it was Virginia’s turn to fidget. She rolled her eyes, chewed her lip, started, stopped, started again. ‘‘N-e-h-i-l-i-s-t-i-c.’’
‘‘I’m sorry, that was incorrect. Miss Torvald.’’
Opal spelled the word correctly.
Mr. Finch’s smile didn’t look anywhere near as warm as it had to the others, but Opal collected her prize, a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets.
