Wayward Wind (31 page)

Now the woman who had first been on the porch came out to the line and took the clothes from Bonnie. She was as tall as Bonnie,
but not so slender. Her light hair was not slicked back and fastened in a tight knot as most women wore it. It was puffed
and piled atop her head and the wind blew wisps of it around her face. She didn’t look old enough to be Cooper’s mother, but
she must be. After she talked to Bonnie for a few minutes, Bonnie went to the bunkhouse and the woman went back to the house.

Hours passed. A ranch hand rode in from the north, put his horse in the corral and went to the bunkhouse. Lorna hadn’t caught
a glimpse of Cooper and she began to suspect he was not there. She felt strangely empty, alone and deflated, up there on the
hillside looking down at Cooper’s home. She felt small and insignificant, an outsider. She
was
an outsider. Fool, she admonished herself. Suddenly she wanted the people on the ranch to know that she was there. She wanted
to sing, to sing loud, to let them know that she, Lorna Douglas from Light’s Mountain, was there and that Bonnie was
her
friend. Tears filled her eyes, ran down her cheeks, and on to stubbornly held lips. She had never before wanted to sing merely
to let her presence be known. What was the matter with her? Was she jealous of poor Bonnie? Did she want to be there with
Cooper’s mother taking
his
clothes off the line?

“Oh, shoot!” she muttered. “She’d not think much of me in these britches. She’d want Cooper to have a woman who could sew
and dress her hair all fancy. It sure didn’t take her long to get Bonnie all duded out in a fine dress.”

Lorna sat beneath the tree until the sun retreated behind the western mountains. She saw Cooper’s mother bring a plate of
supper to the man on the porch and carefully place it on a box beside him. She put her hand on his shoulder for a moment before
she went back into the house. Lorna saw Bonnie go once again to the bunkhouse, a covered basket on her arm. Evening light
faded rapidly and the glow of a lamp appeared in the window of the house below.

The night wind swept down the valley and chilled the forlorn figure huddled beneath the tree. Lorna got stiffly to her feet.
Her stomach growled noisily, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since morning. She made her way back through the thick grove
to where she had left Gray Wolf. He was calmly cropping the grass and looked up as she approached. Wanting comfort from some
living thing, she went to him and looped her arms about his neck and buried her face in his flowing mane.

“I’m just backwoods, Gray Wolf. Just backwoods like Brice said I was. I don’t belong here. I belong on Light’s Mountain. But,
by jinks damn, I’m not leaving until I know about Volney. I’ll slip down there tonight and talk to Bonnie and tomorrow we’ll
go home.”

The night was moonless with only the stars to brighten the sky. Lorna sped confidently through the darkness, her feet making
no sound. The thing uppermost in her mind as she approached the ranch buildings was to let the yellow dog know that she was
there. She did this by hunkering down and making soft noises in her throat. When the dog’s curiosity got the better of it
and it came hesitantly to her, she fed it a biscuit and scratched its ears. Then her problem was getting it to stay put and
not follow her. Once this was accomplished she darted into the house yard and sped across the open ground to the smokehouse.

She stood with her back to the stone building and listened. Having roamed the woods all her life, Lorna had acquired a quality
of stillness and learned to cultivate the art of listening because her life could depend upon it. Lorna’s ears were trained
to tune out the usual noises, ignoring them. It was the strange sounds she listened for or the lack of the normal sounds.

After a brief pause, she sped swiftly toward the shed where she had seen the man working on the forge, froze against the wall,
hunkered down, and waited. After each move she stopped to listen and wait patiently to see if the insects would begin their
singing again, or if something not known or understood was near them. When the contented chorus from the crickets began again,
she slipped between the poles of the corral and stood quietly between the mare and Volney’s dun horse, uttering soft sounds
and rubbing their noses with gentle, knowing fingers. After awhile she passed between the poles again and into the next enclosure.
Not a sound from the horses had betrayed her presence.

Lorna carefully inspected the corrals, the sheds and the barn. She didn’t find Cooper’s or Griffin’s horses in the stalls
where she was sure Cooper would keep the stallions. Nor did she see the black saddle Cooper used, or Griffin’s high-backed
saddle with the cavalry stirrups. A feeling of disappointment as well as anger at Cooper swamped her. She wanted to swear
aloud, but suppressed the desire and snarled, “You… horse’s patoot! I hope
you’ve
had a two-day ride to Light’s Mountain and found
me
gone.”

There were at least two men in the bunkhouse, according to the snores coming through the half-opened door. Lorna peered in.
It was darker than the bottom of a well and smelled of dirty feet and liniment. She backed out and quietly moved across the
yard to the house.

The yellow dog came to her. She placed her hand on its head, but before she could reach down and stop it, its wagging tail
began to strike a tin box that sat beside the house. Thump! Thump! The tin crinkled noisily.

“Shep, are you after the kittens again?” The voice came from inside the house. “Leave them be, Shep, or their ma’ll come back
and scratch you up good.”

Lorna held her breath and waited. The light from the lamp shone through the door and onto the porch. She watched that light
and listened, ready to dart away in the darkness.

“Shep wouldn’t hurt the kittens, would he?” It was Bonnie’s voice.

“No. He’s gentle as a lamb with them. He didn’t like cats when he was young and chased away every cat Cooper brought home.
Now they chase him.” The woman laughed softly.

“That’s what happens when ya get to be old ’n crippled up.” The voice was male and carried the sound of the far away south.

“You’re only crippled temporarily, Arnie, and you’re not
old.
Because if you’re old, I am, and I certainly don’t feel like I’m ready for the rocking chair yet.”

The man laughed. “I’m shore glad a that.”

“I’ll see ’bout Shep, Mrs. Parnell. I’d sure hate it if’n he hurt them little kittens.”

“He won’t hurt them, dear. But take that ham bone to him. It’ll give him something to do. I swan, he used to not let a thing
come onto this place without settin’ up a ruckus. Now the only thing he barks at is strangers. The other day a bighorn antelope
went through here not fifty feet from the house and Shep just laid there and watched it.”

Bonnie was coming outside.
Lorna patted the dog that was responsible.

“Here, Shep.” Bonnie came down from the porch holding out the bone as an enticement. “Here, Shep. Here, Shep.”

Lorna held her hand on the dog’s head and he stood as still as stone beside her. She waited until Bonnie came around to the
side of the house, then indicated with the touch of her fingers that he could leave her. He went to meet Bonnie, his huge
bushy tail wagging a greeting.

“There ya are. Looky what I got for ya, Shep.” Bonnie let the dog take the bone from her hand and he disappeared in the darkness.

“Psst! Bonnie. It’s me, Lorna.”

“Oh!” Bonnie jumped back in fright. “Lorna?”

“Shh… Come over here. I want to talk to you.”

“Lorna! What in tarnation are ya doin’ out here in the dark?”

“Waiting for you to come out.”

“But…” Bonnie’s head jutted out as she peered at Lorna. “Ya shoulda just come on in, Lorna. Mrs. Parnell’d make ya welcome.
She’s real nice.”

“I don’t want to come in. I came to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m doin’ all right.”

“What’s Volney’s horse doing here?”

“He’s here. Volney’s here, Lorna. Brice hurt him somethin’ awful, but Volney made it here. Mrs. Parnell’s been takin’ care
a him.”

“Then he’s not dead! Oh, I was so afraid he was. Where is he?”

“In the bunkhouse. His hand ’n foot was smashed, but they’s healin’. Me ’n Mrs. Parnell’s been atryin’ to get him to get up
’n take the air in the sun, but he won’t budge from the bed. He just says it’s no use.”

“Well, for crying out loud! What’s gotten into the old coot?”

“Mr. Henderson says it sorta takes the starch outta a man sometimes when he’s ole ’n somebody comes down hard on him like
Brice done. Mr. Henderson says—”

“Who’s he?”

“Mr. Henderson? He’s—”

“Bonnie.” Mrs. Parnell’s voice floated through the open door. “Won’t Shep come?”

“Yes, ma’am. He come. I’m… jist takin’ the air ’n lookin’ at the stars.”

“Isn’t it cold out there without a shawl?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Let the gal be, Sylvia, ’n come on over here. She’s thinkin’ ’bout her feller. It’s what you ought to be doin’.” The male
voice was low and barely audible.

“Where are Griffin and Cooper?” Lorna asked when all was quiet again.

“They went to town. They’ll be back tomorry. Lorna, Cooper was fit to be tied when he come back to where me ’n Griff was.
He never cracked a smile fer days—”

“I want to see Volney.”

“Ya can see him tomorry. Come on inside ’n meet Mrs. Parnell. Ya’ll like her. She’s the nicest woman I ever met—”

“I’m not coming in, Bonnie, and I don’t want anyone but Volney to know I’m here. Least of all Cooper or his mother. Hear?”

“I won’t tell if’n ya don’t want me to. Lorna… Griffin wants me ’n him to get married. Ya said I weren’t married to Brice.”

“You’re not, but that doesn’t mean you have to jump right up and marry someone else.”

“Ya said ya knew right off Cooper was the one ya wanted.”

“Well, I was wrong.”

“I knowed I liked Griff a lot, but I waited till he said somethin’ first. He says he’s agoin’ to kill Brice, Lorna. I hope
he don’t. It’ll get him in trouble.”

“You don’t have to worry about Brice. Pa thinks he’s halfway to California by now. He took off like a scalded cat after I
gave him a working over with the bullwhip. What did Cooper go to town for?”

“You… whopped Brice? Oh, Lorna! He’ll kill you!”

“Ha! Let him try!”

“Stay ’n talk to Cooper. He’ll be back tomorry. Lorna, I got to go in. Mrs. Parnell’ll be thinkin’ it strange me astayin’
out here so long. Stay till tomorry ’n talk to Cooper ’n Volney… ’n me. Ya been the best to me a anybody ’n I miss ya.”

“You have Mrs. Parnell now.” The little red devil of jealousy was sitting on Lorna’s shoulder and she hated herself for saying
that, so she tried to make amends. “And… I’m glad for you. She can do more for you than I can.”

The thought that Lorna was thinking she’d been deserted came to Bonnie’s mind. “If Brice be gone… maybe I ought to go back
with ya,” she said hesitantly.

“No,” Lorna said quickly. “Griffin wouldn’t want to come to Light’s Mountain. You stay with him. He’ll take care of you and
you’ll not have to suffer any more beatings from the likes of Brice.”

“We’re agoin’ back to the Blue when he ’n Cooper get thin’s set up. Ya’ll come there, won’t ya?”

“Of course, I will. But not till spring. Tell Volney to get up off his backside and onto that dun horse of his and come on
up to Light’s Mountain to winter. Tell him if he doesn’t come, I’ll be here to fetch him before the snow. I won’t have him
taking Cooper Parnell’s charity when he can have a place with me and Pa.”

“I’ll tell him.” Bonnie threw her arm across Lorna’s shoulders and hugged her, then turned and went up onto the porch. She
stood there for a moment before she went into the house.

Lorna had never felt so lonely in her life. She ran swiftly and silently back to the place where she’d left Gray Wolf. He
made a small welcoming sound when she neared. She threw her arms around his neck and gave way to the tears that had choked
her all the way from Cooper’s house.

Lorna saddled Gray Wolf as the first light of dawn streaked the sky, mounted and rode south. She came to the Thompson River,
forded it at a narrow point, and found a place among the boulders where she could build a small fire. She cooked a thick slice
of bacon by letting it hang above the flames on a pointed stick she slanted into the ground, and ate cold beans from a can
while water heated for coffee.

She’d put in a miserable night. Her busy mind had refused to be shut off so she could sleep. She wished she’d been able to
see Volney. If he was able to sit in the saddle she’d take him home with her. The thought of going back to see him played
around in her mind. She’d ride in there, big as you please, and go straight to the bunkhouse. Of course, they’d know that
she’d been there before, or else she’d not know Volney was there, but what did she care? Cooper wasn’t there.

She remembered some advice her granny gave her a long time ago: In case of a doubt, don’t. She thought about that now. After
awhile she kicked river sand on her fire to put it out and repacked her saddlebags. She backtracked across the river and drew
up on the reins when she came to the place where she would turn south. It was now or not at all. The desire to see Cooper,
even from a distance, outweighed common sense. Oh, shoot! she thought. What harm would it do if she stayed another day? Her
father wasn’t expecting her for two days and she could get home faster than she got here now that she knew the way. She turned
Gray Wolf north and they returned to the clearing where they’d spent the night.

Cooper and Griffin rode in just before noon. Lorna saw a small dust cloud and turned her glasses on it. The man sitting so
tall in the saddle and riding the handsome, prancing buckskin could be no one but Cooper. Griffin, on the sorrel, rode beside
him wearing a new black hat. They were deep in conversation because their heads turned toward each other every so often and
they were walking the horses. Lorna had no name for the sensations that poured so strongly over her as she watched this man
who had been continually in her thoughts since she’d met him. They worked inside her with majestic wonders and a craving for
his invading flesh returned to taunt her.