Saddlebags (6 page)

“Well, Dad, when you’re going on a cattle drive, you can’t be forgetful,” Carole answered, blushing a little. “What about that toothbrush—did you remember it?”

“Are you worried about me by any odd chance?” Colonel Hanson went over and gave his daughter a hug. “Don’t be.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll stop. But only after I make sure you’ve got your poncho.”

L
ISA PULLED A
blow-dryer out of her mother’s bedroll. “Mom,” she said, “first of all, we’re going to be sleeping outside, remember? There’s no electricity. Second, there are no showers where we’re going, just a creek.”

Mrs. Atwood looked sheepish. “Oh, of course,” she said.

Lisa put the blow-dryer back in the bathroom. “Let’s leave this here.”

“I guess I’ll just bring a scarf for my hair for the second day,” said Mrs. Atwood.

“Good idea,” answered Lisa, moving to check on her father’s bedroll. Who knew what he had packed?

T
HAT AFTERNOON ALL
the cattle-drive riders assembled outside the barn. Walter and John had already tacked up their own mounts and strapped on bedrolls and equipment.

“Your horses have all been cut,” said Walter. “Time to saddle up and secure your bedrolls.”

Carole and Kate were the first to tack up. Once their horses were ready, they turned to help the parents.

John smiled at Lisa as he helped her tighten the bedroll on the back of Chocolate’s saddle. “This’ll be a fun ride,” he said.

“If my mom can learn how to do things for herself,” Lisa muttered under her breath as she watched her mother struggle to adjust her stirrups, then ask Kate for help.

Finally all riders were ready, all horses saddled up, all bedrolls fastened on.

“Let’s ride out,” said Walter.

Lisa swung herself into the saddle and led the way beside John and Tex. Mr. and Mrs. Atwood followed.

“Well, pa’dnah, looks lak wee’re finely off!” Mr. Atwood called out.

Lisa cringed. “I’m not related to the man who said that,” she murmured.

“They’re dudes—what do you expect?” John said softly.

Lisa grinned in spite of herself. “You’re right,” she said. She was glad to be riding with John—even if her parents
were
dudes. If he didn’t mind, why should she?

Stevie and Carole fell into line behind their parents, with Walter bringing up the rear behind them.

“Wait till my father launches into his favorite cowboy—” Stevie began.

“ ‘As I was out walking the streets of Laredo …,’ ” Mr. Lake started in at the top of his lungs as if on cue.

When he finished the verse, he took off his hat, waved it in the air, and said, “Go west, young man! I mean, young woman! I mean, young people!”

Colonel Hanson looked back at him and said, “Hey, what about this one, ‘Whoopee-ti-yi-yo, git along, little dogies …’ ”

“Oh, well.” Carole sighed. “At least they’re
all
making fools of themselves.”

“True,” said Stevie. There was no way she’d argue with that.

S
OON THE COWBOY
songs tapered off, and the riders grew quiet. Lisa gazed at the scene spread out in front of her. In the distance rose the jagged, snow-covered peaks of the Rockies. Before her was an enormous stretch of flat grazing fields. How could pastures get this big? Lisa wondered. Back in Virginia, meadows and grazing fields seemed tiny compared to this.

Suddenly Lisa remembered her parents, and felt glad to be sharing this scene with them. She turned around, and sure enough, her mother looked awed as she took in the incredible scenery and pointed out different things to Mr. Atwood.

As the riders reached the end of one stretch of grazing land, the trail turned slightly to the north, following the base of a small hill. John and Lisa brought their horses to a trot as they rounded the hill, and the others followed.

John and Tex slowed to a walk as the land started sloping downward. It became dry and rocky.

“We have to cross this creek bed, or arroyo, as they
call it,” John explained, “so that we can ride up on the herd at the right angle.”

Lisa followed, motioning over her shoulder for the rest of the group to come along. The ground underfoot was covered with large rocks and small stones and pebbles. “Take it slow,” she called to those behind her.

The horses carefully picked their way across the stony, dry creek bed.

At the very bottom of the arroyo, a tiny stream of water flowed through. John stopped and let Tex stretch his head down to drink the cool water. “We’ll stop here tomorrow on the way back too, to water the cattle.”

All the riders followed suit, stopping to let their horses have a drink. Then John and Lisa led the group in a trot to the far northwest grazing lands.

Lisa felt much better about her parents’ riding than she had yesterday, or even that morning. That afternoon they’d seemed impressed by the landscape and followed John’s instructions without a single problem or joke. She looked back, and gave a thumbs-up to Stevie.

Stevie returned the signal, flashing Lisa a huge grin. Obviously Stevie felt relieved too.

So far so good, Lisa thought.

J
UST AS THE
sun began lowering into the west, the group from the Bar None reached the top of a little ridge. Below them, the herd of cattle stood grazing peacefully in the late afternoon sun. The riders lined up at the edge of the hill and silently watched the scene.

Mr. Lake broke the silence, crooning, “ ‘Oh give me a home, where the holsteins roam—’ ”

“Dad,” Stevie interrupted, “you’re getting so predictable!”

“Okay,” he said, “how about this one, ‘From this valley they say you are going—’ ”

“All right, let’s start down,” John interrupted.

Riders and horses reached the campsite as the sun met the western horizon.

Everyone dismounted, unsaddled their horses, and followed John and Walter’s lead, laying the saddles out in a line.

John and Lisa took the food and equipment packs over to the open fireplace. Carole, Kate, and Stevie stayed to help Walter water and feed the horses.

Carole pulled a hoof pick out of her pocket and started checking all the horses’ hooves for stones, one by one. She looked up from her work and noticed the parents milling around near the campsite.

“It’s a good thing for these tired horses that someone knows horse care around here,” she said, digging dirt and stones out of Yellowbird’s hoof.

Stevie set down the two water buckets she was carrying. “And I’m sure all this work would go a lot faster if
everyone
helped out,” she put in with a pointed look in the parents’ direction.

When Stevie was returning from the creek with her eighth serving of water, she looked up to see her father coming their way. True to form, he was whistling a cowboy tune.

“Did you ever think of a career in country music instead of law?” she asked.

“How about as a cowpoke?” was his answer. “Whatchou pardners doin’ over heyar?”

“C’mon, Dad, every cowboy knows horse care is no joke,” answered his daughter. “No rest until these horses are completely taken care of. That’s Max’s rule too. Horse care before people care.”

“Need any help?”

“Sure,” Stevie answered, handing him two buckets. “Works better if you fill them two at a time,” she said.

“Got it, pardner,” he replied.

After the horses were watered and fed, Carole picked up a brush and handed it to Stevie’s father. “The last thing to do is brush some of this trail dust off the horses.”

“Brush with the hairline,” instructed Stevie, “and, most important, the saddle area and the legs. Here’s a sponge and scraper for the really sweaty places.”

“What about water?” asked Mr. Lake.

“There’s a bucket,” Stevie said, pointing. “And there’s the stream.”

Mr. Lake helped the girls until the last horse was watered, fed, cleaned up, and content. Then he took
Stevie’s hand and they walked over to the campsite together. She was happy he’d realized it was time for everyone to pitch in, no matter how tired the riders were. In fact, she was so pleased, she almost started whistling “The Streets of Laredo” herself.

O
VER BY THE
fireplace, which was actually a small circle of rocks on the ground, Lisa and John were hard at work.

Together they had gathered wood, laid the fire, and lit it. John pulled a folded metal grill from one of the packs. Then they moved stones around so the grill would fit securely on top of the fire.

John stood up and surveyed their handiwork. “Looks like it’ll be hot enough soon.”

“I didn’t realize how starving I was till just now,” Lisa answered. As she turned to get the food out of the pack, her mother walked up.

“How’s everything coming along?” she asked.

“The fire’s almost ready for grilling,” answered Lisa. “Would you like to help make supper?”

“Sure,” said Mrs. Atwood, “just put me to work.”

The three of them formed a cookout assembly line. Lisa took out hot dogs and prepared hamburgers for the grill, while John stood over the fire, cooking the meat.
Mrs. Atwood prepared plates with buns and rolls, then took the food when it was ready and added relish and ketchup.

“Chow time!” Mrs. Atwood called. Then she passed around the first few plates of freshly grilled supper.

Lisa was the last one to sit down and eat. Hungrily, she took a bite of hamburger. Mmm, she thought. Nothing tastes better than campfire food.

It was also nice to see that her mother had figured out there was more to ranch life than kick-and-yank riding, and always being waited on.

After she finished eating, Lisa checked the food pack again. “Save room for dessert!” she called. And she took out of the pack a box of chocolate bars, a box of graham crackers, and some rather crushed marshmallows.

“S’mores!” Stevie shouted. “Everybody get a roasting stick!”

This time even the parents moved quickly. No one wanted to miss out on the delicious campfire treats.

A
FTER S
’
MORES THE
group began telling ghost stories. Lisa watched John as he got up and silently started clearing the tin plates and cups. She wondered if he had volunteered for cleanup so he wouldn’t have to take a turn at
storytelling. But she knew he was a good storyteller—she’d heard him before. Maybe he felt a little shy around the grown-ups. She stood and began picking up the remaining dishes.

John had put the plates and cups in a bucket and taken them down to the creek. There he filled the bucket with water and soap and started washing dishes.

“I brought you a few little dogies,” said Lisa as she walked up with a stack of dirty dishes.

John smiled. “Perfect timing.” He put the dishes in the bucket and pointed to a towel hanging on the twig of a nearby tree. “You can rinse them in the stream and then dry, if you like.”

Lisa took the towel and started rinsing and drying plates and silverware. “I’ve really had fun watching you work on Tex,” she said. “I can’t believe those sliding stops. I mean, it looks as though he’s going to do a somersault, and he keeps his balance so perfectly. And so do you. You guys look great!”

John kept his eyes on the dishes. “Thanks,” he said.

“When do you get a chance to do the work?” Lisa asked.

John looked up at her. “Actually, I get up around five every morning—”

“
Five?
”

He nodded. “And I do barn chores, then work with Tex for an hour before school. Then we work again when I get home.”

“Yikes! It must be fun though.”

“It is.”

“With riding—there’s always more than enough to learn, even for an excellent rider,” Lisa said thoughtfully. “I’m not sure some people get that.”

“Like who?”

“Like our parents,” she said with a sigh.

He came over to her and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Your parents are really no different from most of the dudes who come here on vacation. They enjoy being at the Bar None, and get into it, but they don’t really get what it’s all about. At least your folks are having a good time.”

Lisa thought about what he said. John had a better perspective on her parents than she did, she realized. “Thanks,” she told him. “I guess I’m just embarrassed or something.”

John kept his arm around her shoulders. “Anyway,” he said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Lisa swallowed hard. She couldn’t think of what to say next.

They were silent for a while, listening to the sound of the horses munching on the scrub grass nearby, and the soft lowing of the cattle in the distance. In the sky over their heads, millions of stars twinkled, and the Milky Way was a wash of soft white.

As Lisa stared upward, John gently brought his hand to her face and turned her toward him. He brushed his lips against hers.

Crunch crunch crunch
.

Footsteps, coming closer. John and Lisa pulled back from each other and turned toward the sound.

Lisa couldn’t believe her eyes. It was her mother.