The Last Ranch (21 page)

At the dinner table, she announced she'd finish out the school
year before resigning her teaching position. Surprised, Matt hadn't thought that far ahead, but her decision made sense. Remaining in town, close to medical care if needed, was a sound idea. He wondered if it might be best for her to stay in Las Cruces throughout her entire pregnancy.

All of a sudden he realized that he didn't have a clue as to when the baby was due. He didn't even know if Mary had a doctor, if her pregnancy was normal, what the hospital would cost, or what they'd need to buy for the baby. He was so over the moon in love and excited about becoming a father, he hadn't done any hard thinking about the situation.

The growing awareness that he faced a brand-new reality drained the color completely from his face. Across the table a worried Consuelo asked if he felt all right. He covered it up with a cough and a swallow, fibbing that something had momentarily gotten stuck in his throat.

They finished a wonderful evening at the front door saying good night with hugs from Gus and Consuelo and promises made by all to stay in constant contact so that everything would proceed smoothly. On the drive to Mary's apartment, Matt learned that the baby was due in late September or early October, and that according to her doctor everything was normal. In addition, she had already started setting aside money to buy baby clothes and other necessities. At an appropriate time in the early summer Erma would host a baby shower. Furthermore, on one of his future trips to town, they needed to shop for a crib. She'd recently spotted several in good shape at reasonable prices in a local secondhand furniture store. She asked him to stay over through Monday. That way they could go to the county courthouse after school to apply for their marriage license. Oh, and they needed to start thinking about boy and girl names for the baby. She would
start a list. And what did he think once the baby was born about asking Jim and Millie to move from the casita to the ranch house? The casita might be a little cramped, but would afford them more privacy. And she'd already decided that since the ranch now had electrical power, she would get a new washing machine with her own money, which would make the chore of keeping the baby in clean diapers a lot easier.

After verbally tussling over who would pay for the washing machine and finally conceding to Mary's wishes, Matt realized he was no match for a woman fully engaged in nest building.

***

F
or Matt, the weeks preceding the wedding passed quickly and for the most part without a lot of demands on his time. Mary, Erma, and Consuelo took charge of all the preparations and necessary details like a trio of combat-hardened field marshals mounting a major campaign against Matt's bachelorhood. They kept him informed every step of the way, mostly after the fact because of his frequent time away at the ranch, where he spent a good deal of effort putting the casita in tip-top shape after relocating Jim and Millie to the ranch house. He didn't see the need to wait until the baby was born to move into the casita, and besides, like Mary, he wanted the privacy it afforded.

Jim and Millie were happy to oblige, and Patrick enjoyed having them closer at hand for kibitzing, company, and nightly sessions in front of the radio.

As they shopped for the crib, the washing machine, and other baby necessities, Matt happily discovered that Mary was very frugal with money—an extremely important virtue for any ranch wife. She even suggested they get married in their
military uniforms to save the cost of buying wedding outfits. The idea of a military wedding also appealed to both Erma and Jimmy Kendell, who decided to join in and wear their navy blues. When told, Patrick wanted no part of it. Tickled at the thought of becoming a grandfather, he'd gladly give Mary away in a pair of clean, pressed jeans, a fresh white shirt, and polished boots, but he damn sure wasn't wearing his moth-eaten Rough Rider uniform.

In addition to her duties as maid of honor, Erma also volunteered to serve as the official wedding photographer, enlisting Ernie Downs, an aspiring artist and newly acquired boyfriend, as her assistant. Consuelo would prepare the bridal bouquet from the spring flowers blooming in the hacienda courtyard, and as a courtesy to Gus, retired Judge Horace Van Patten—the very justice who had sent Fred Tyler to prison years ago—agreed to marry the couple for one of Gus's good Cuban cigars and a glass of the twenty-five-year-old port he kept hidden away in his library.

Given the short interlude between the engagement and wedding, the three field marshals running the campaign agreed an announcement in the paper wasn't needed. Nevertheless, rumors about the reason for the sudden marriage started to spread, which Mary ignored with an easy grace. Matt kept an eye on her in case she was hurt by the rumors and faking it, but she appeared truly happy and immune to the gossip. Besides being a knockout, the gal had grit and gumption.

At Consuelo's urging, arguing that it was only proper to do so, Mary reluctantly wrote a note to her parents informing them of her engagement but made no mention of the wedding date. A week later, she got a terse letter back from her brother, Tom, wishing her good luck, and saying that her mother had died of cancer two years ago, her father was living in a church-run rest home
because of severe, crippling arthritis, and Tom was about to sell the ranch and move his family to California.

Although it may have been unintended, her brother's message freed her from her last ties to her family and closed that painful chapter in her life. She felt a huge sense of relief. Now everything was brand-new, with a bright and exciting future with Matt ahead.

***

T
he wedding went off without a hitch. With his hair slicked down, neat and tidy in appearance, and a smile on his face, Patrick walked Mary from the hacienda to the old cottonwood tree in the center of the courtyard, where Judge Van Patten cleared his throat, asked them if they agreed to their pending union, and upon their unanimous assent, pronounced them to be married. Matt controlled his jitters, slipped the ring onto Mary's finger, and gave her a lingering kiss that the well-wishers greeted with whistles, catcalls, and applause, with Al Jennings among the loudest. After Erma's boyfriend Ernie finished taking the wedding-party pictures, Consuelo and Gus sprung surprise entertainment on the gathering by ushering in three musicians who rolled an upright piano to the patio and got the party under way with some really good dance tunes.

Matt had invited Rosella Gomez, his former landlady from the barrio. She had come alone, all dressed up and looking somewhat uneasy. Consuelo and Mary sat with her for a spell chatting in Spanish, which quickly put her at ease. Soon she was smiling and clapping her hands as the dancing couples whirled by. Matt made it a point to dance with her and she jokingly chided him for not marrying one of her nieces and moving back to the old neighborhood. She giggled with delight when Matt replied none of them
had measured up to her. He returned her to her seat and took Mrs. Lorenz for a whirl next, who remarked in his ear that he'd married a true treasure of a girl and he darn well better treat her right. Matt promised to do so.

Jimmy Kendell, handsome in his navy aviator uniform, danced repeatedly with all the women, smoothly and expertly guiding them around and around with his one arm, much to the delight of Brenda Jennings, who loved to dance and was married to a man with lead feet. Al took it with good humor and even awkwardly shuffled through a slow tune with Brenda to prove his devotion and love. Matt tried hard not to laugh at the look of painful determination on his best friend's face.

Even Jim and Millie Sawyer, whom Matt figured would stay chair-bound at a table, kicked up their heels to a tune or two.

By six o'clock, most everyone was a little tipsy from making too many toasts, stuffed from eating too much good food, weary from all the dancing, and ready to call it quits. All except for Patrick, Judge Van Patten, and Gus, who'd long ago retreated to the library and had to be herded out to say goodbye to the newlyweds. With everybody assembled, they saw Matt and Mary off at the front door as they drove away to change out of their uniforms at the apartment and drive to El Paso, where they'd spend their wedding night in a deluxe room at the Hotel Paso del Norte.

They made love at the apartment and again immediately after checking in to the hotel. Mary had splurged on some frilly undergarments that Matt took no notice of whatsoever. She teased him about it over dinner at the best steak house in town. He promised to take a longer, closer, slower look when they returned to their room. Mary rather doubted it.

The manager, told of the special occasion by the hotel clerk who had booked the table, had their waiter serve dinner with
flair. The food was delicious. Neither had had much to eat at the wedding and they cleaned their plates. The salads were fresh with a light, tangy dressing, the steaks grilled perfectly, the young asparagus crisp, the small, roasted potatoes tender, and it was all topped off by a glass of red wine each, compliments of the house. Other patrons at nearby tables, who'd been made aware of their newly married status, smiled and raised their glasses in congratulations. Mary blushed at the unexpected attention.

After dinner they ordered cordials and toasted each other privately for surviving their wedding day, which they admitted had been exhausting, fun, and no mean feat. Matt vowed to take her on a proper honeymoon someday when time and money allowed. Thinking of the baby to come, she smiled and told him the best honeymoon she could possibly ever have would be living with him on the 7-Bar-K Ranch. It was a dream come true and she was antsy for the school year to end so they could be together permanently. When he shook his head in mock dismay and said that she might quickly tire of him on a daily basis, she punched him hard on the arm and made up for it with a smooch.

They left the restaurant arm in arm and walked around the nearby old downtown plaza. Matt stopped in front of a saloon filled with Saturday-night revelers and told her that a speakeasy had once inhabited the building and charged customers a dollar for a one-day membership.

Mary peeked inside. “It just looks like an ordinary bar.”

“Ah, but in its day it was filled with gangsters, rumrunners, and molls. Not a place for a respectable married woman,” he teased.

At a corner lamplight, he kissed her and said she was beautiful. She truly believed it and it made her love him all the more. Although she'd thought she knew better, she'd started her wedding day hesitant about marrying, wondering if Matt really loved her or
was merely acting honorably. But the feeling had passed, leaving her with the crystal-clear knowledge that she'd found her perfect mate and truest friend.

Strangely, now that it was done, she still didn't feel married at all. Perhaps that would come with time. In a way she hoped not; living with a lover seemed a much more enticing and interesting prospect than having a husband. She smiled at the thought of it.

“What?” Matt asked, wanting an explanation of her dreamy smile.

Mary raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. “Nothing. Just happy, that's all.”

The promising spring of 1950 became the summer of war and the beginning of a punishing drought. By the time Mary moved to the ranch the grass was already scorched and the hottest temperatures on record had been reported in towns and villages surrounding the Tularosa Basin. On most afternoons the thermometer Patrick had tacked to a post on the veranda hovered near the hundred-degree mark and clouds in the sky were as rare as the sound of live water. Within weeks, North Korean soldiers began pouring across the border into South Korea, driving the South Korean army almost into the sea. There was speculation that the Chinese would join in the fight to ensure the entire peninsula became a communist state.

According to James Kaytennae, Pvt. Jasper Daklugie had completed his army basic training and was enrolled in an advanced infantry course with the hope of attending jump school to earn his paratrooper wings after graduation. James was sure Jasper would see combat and come home safe. Matt hoped so, and
wondered aloud to Mary if the world had become a place constantly at war. She refused to believe it.

With the loss of pastureland to the army, the scarcity of grass, and the high price of hay, Matt and Al turned to harvesting cactus, burning off the spines, and mixing it with molasses to feed to their cattle. It was backbreaking work, but it kept the cattle from starving, although it was discouraging to see the weight drop off the animals so quickly on marginal feed. Supplements helped some, but not enough.

When the wells started to dry up and the live streams stopped running, they had to keep the thirsty cows from suffocating by digging the mud out of their nostrils when they rooted for water in the few remaining stagnant pools. Finally forced to move the critters to an overgrazed high pasture with the only reliable water source on both spreads, they were obliged to dig into their dwindling cash reserves to purchase hay. Al predicted if the rains didn't come by fall works, they'd be in debt and selling underweight cattle for next to nothing. Matt didn't doubt it.

On a day that promised rain and brought only lightning from a brief, passing thunderstorm that dropped a sprinkle of spit and sparked a fire in the high pasture, they lost the last of the native grass and all the hay bales they'd hauled for the cattle. Only the frightened critters were saved.

They were licked for the year, and they knew it. They cut their losses and sold most of the mixed herd, keeping only the best mother cows, calves, and the pick of the yearlings. The proceeds barely paid the bills. It meant if the drought didn't break come spring, they'd have to sell off all of the remaining cattle, which would put them flat out of the cow business.

Matt had already taken a hard look at switching over to ponies,
and the prospect didn't look bright. Replies to letters he'd written to folks in the rodeo business that he'd sold horseflesh to before the war warned him off. The rodeo business had changed and now just a few trainers of top-flight cutting horses dominated the marketplace. Dismayed, Matt kept the news to himself.

Throughout it all, Mary's consistently high spirits offset Matt's occasional gloominess. The baby growing inside her and the joy of being with Matt on the ranch made her unshakably optimistic. She went about each day full of energy, helping Patrick with the few remaining ponies, fixing delicious meals from recipes she found in library cookbooks, sewing curtains for the living-room windows, and working diligently on a quilt for the baby, learning how to make it from an instructional pamphlet.

Matt worried that without her dear friend Erma's companionship and missing the attraction of town life, Mary would soon tire of the ranch. If she did, it was never mentioned and through back-and-forth visits with Brenda Jennings, Mary soon formed a strong friendship with her. Both were pregnant, exceedingly happy about the prospect of motherhood, and had endless things to talk about. Brenda favored a girl because she believed them to be easier to raise. Mary didn't care one way or the other as long as the baby was normal and healthy.

Mary's mood became a little less cheerful when Brenda left for Hot Springs, where she would remain until her baby's birth. Soon after Brenda's departure, Jim and Millie gave notice. Both had recently turned sixty-five and were qualified for old-age pensions under social security because of Jim's long-ago employment in a slaughterhouse and Millie's early work as a hotel housekeeper.

Although it was left unspoken, Matt figured if Mary hadn't arrived as the new lady of the house, the Sawyers would have gladly pocketed their monthly benefits and stayed on. From a monetary
standpoint, Matt wasn't sorry to see them go. It meant Patrick's Rough Rider pension could now be used to help pay ranch bills rather than their salaries. It also meant more work for Matt, but since his labor didn't cost a cent all he'd lose was a little extra sleep. The only serious drawback was that Patrick would lose their company and friendship, which had come to mean a lot to him. But he held his tongue, wished them well when they left, and didn't grumble about it.

With the household down to three, Patrick decided to take over the casita as his domicile. With the house now hers to do with as she wished, Mary immediately started fixing it up. Matt's every free minute was spent helping on one project or another, the most important being turning his old bedroom into a nursery. When they finished all of her projects, the inside of the old place actually looked like a home and not an oversize, somewhat run-down bunkhouse.

To celebrate, Matt suggested they invite Erma for a visit. The notion thrilled Mary. Erma readily agreed and came up by train for a long weekend. The two gals gabbed constantly in the cab of Matt's truck on the drive to the ranch. If he hadn't known better, he'd have thought the two of them hadn't seen each other in years. Each night he went to bed while the two women stayed up late visiting in the living room. They were so compatible and shared so many traits, Matt figured the only thing that separated them from being biological sisters was the accident of birth. Before Erma returned to town, they agreed Mary would stay with her in Las Cruces during her last month of pregnancy and Matt would join them when her due date was near.

It didn't work out that way. Restless and uncomfortable on a late September night, Mary's contractions began. She waited for a time before gently waking Matt to tell him the baby was coming.

“Are you having contractions?” he asked.

Mary nodded. “Mild ones. They started two hours ago.”

“How much time do we have?” he asked.

“I'm not sure,” Mary replied. “Everything I've read said it can take hours.”

“What can I do?”

“Heat a hot water bottle—my back is killing me.”

“Shouldn't we leave for town right away?”

She kissed him on the cheek. “There's no rush. Besides, I have to pack.”

“Lie down. I'll pack for you.”

Mary gazed at him as if he were a rather dull, impatient child. “A hot water bottle would be very nice.”

“Okay.”

In the kitchen, Matt stoked the cookstove, put water on to heat, woke Patrick up, and sent him hell-bent over the mountain to fetch Al and Brenda, who'd recently returned to the Rocking J with their new baby boy. Matt knew mama cows could take hours to deliver; others could drop a newborn calf lickety-split. He would take no chances. He needed Brenda here to lend a hand.

He returned to find Mary in the living room walking in circles, pressing her fists against the small of her back. Her overnight bag was on the floor next to Patrick's easy chair. “It hurts,” she said with a tight smile. “A warm bath would help, I think. Not too hot, though.”

He put more water on the stove, laid out fresh towels and a clean nightie in the bathroom, and returned to find Mary squatting on the floor, her head resting on the couch cushion.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Mary lifted her head. “It's nothing. The contractions are getting stronger and closer together, that's all. This helps relieve the pain.”

“We should leave now, dammit,” Matt demanded.

Mary shook her head. “It's not that bad, Matthew. The bathwater, please.”

It took a while to get two large pots of water boiling. He ran cold water in the bathtub, mixed in the hot water from the stove, and checked to make sure the bathwater was warm before helping Mary ease into the tub. There was a blood-tinged stain on Mary's discarded nightie. He looked at her in alarm.

“Don't worry; it's just from the mucus plug.” She sighed and reached for his hand. “Ah, this is nice. Thank you. Just let me soak for a while.”

He stayed with her, watching her intently. When she was ready to get out, he helped her to her feet and toweled her dry. Dressed in a fresh nightie, she padded barefoot to the living room and started walking in circles again. She seemed better, no pain showed on her face. He watched from the kitchen door as she went round and round and round.

“The walking helps,” she announced as she padded past his desk for the umpteenth time. “But I think I'd like that hot water bottle now. My back is killing me. And a big glass of water, please.”

He filled the hot water bottle, got her situated on the couch with it tucked against her back, and gave her a kiss and a big glass of water.

“You're very good to me,” she said, after draining the glass.

“I'm not sure I'm any good at all.” His hand shaking, Matt put the empty glass on the side table. “Over the years I've helped a
whole lot of mother cows deliver their babies, but this is different.”

“My water just broke,” Mary whispered, embarrassed. A murky stain appeared on the cushion. She gasped in pain.

“What is it?”

“Everything is speeding up.” She howled, gasped, howled again, and didn't speak until the pain passed. “I can feel it moving.”

He glanced at the desk clock. It had been four hours since she had shaken him awake. Where was Patrick? He should have brought Brenda by now.

He pulled her gently off the couch. “Squat, like you did before,” he told her.

Instead she got down on all fours. An intense pain in her lower back whipsawed through her. She could feel pressure in her rectum and with each contraction she could feel the baby descending. She started pushing, taking in huge gulps of air, and pushing again. Each repetition wrung an explosive gasp of pain.

“It's coming.” She pushed again. “Get the oilcloth off the kitchen table and take me into the bedroom now.”

He got the oilcloth, guided her to the bedroom, spread the oilcloth on top of the blanket, and gently lifted her onto the bed. She gasped, pushed again, and the top of the baby's head appeared.

“I see it!”

“Get it out,” Mary grunted loudly, her voice filled with pain.

“Keep pushing!” Matt yelled.

Mary pushed and the baby's shoulders appeared. Matt eased it out. The placenta discharged and Mary collapsed against a pillow, exhausted.

“It's a boy,” Matt announced shakily. He cut the umbilical cord with his pocketknife and slapped the baby on the rump. And with Matt's pronouncement, bloody, red-faced Kevin Kerney, perhaps the last child to be born on the old Tularosa, entered the world, took his first breath, and began to cry.