“You fool.” He traced the outline of the scar gently with his finger. “Does it hurt?”
“Only when I laugh,” I smiled up at his beautiful eyes, noticing how tall he was. I felt different, more feminine around him.
“You’re something else,” Rick said. “There’s no telling what that fool could have done.” He sounded just like Aunt Bess.
“I’m okay,” I said softly, unable to take my eyes off him.
The bell for the next class rang. Neither one of us moved.
“Do you want a ride home?”
I wanted to say something clever. Instead I just nodded unable to speak because of the lump in my throat.
Walking down the hall to my art class, I felt like the luckiest girl in school.
I loved art class. It felt like I was cheating because drawing and painting came so easy to me.
“Work big,” Mrs. Rutherford, my teacher, encouraged, not put off by my excuses of never having done a large painting before. “You know how to paint. The size doesn’t matter. It’s the technique that counts and you surely have that.”
Paint brush in hand, I squeezed one color onto my palette and studied the blank 16 x 20 inch canvas. I began making the outline of a horse. It felt good to use a brush again. Slowly, Shadow Dancer’s body appeared in raw umber lines. Then class was over.
“It’s coming along nicely,” Mrs. Rutherford told me seeing what I’d done. “Aren’t you glad you took a risk on a larger canvas?”
I agreed, pleased at her praise.
The next week I showed Lisa the work in progress.
“Oh, Maryann, it’s beautiful. You really did this?” She turned to me in astonishment, “If I painted like you, that’s all I’d do.”
Her praise made me uncomfortable. “It’s just a hobby.” I shrugged, putting the canvas away.
“No, it’s not just a hobby, Maryann. It’s a gift.”
Okay, maybe it was a nice painting. Still, I knew you couldn’t make a living painting pictures of Appaloosa horses.
After the last class, I waited for Rick by the door to the parking lot.
The ride home was quiet. I didn’t know what to say and I was tired from answering everyone’s questions throughout the day.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Country music played softly on the radio.
“I’m fine.” I replied.
He patted my leg then reached for my hand. I couldn’t believe I was riding beside him. Every now and then he’s look over at me and smiled. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence and I liked that.
Before I knew it we approached the ranch. Rick stopped the truck where it couldn’t be seen from the ranch and shut the engine off.
He turned to me, his hands fiddling with the steering wheel.
“Is it okay if I kiss you?”
I looked at him in surprise and nodded, too shy to speak.
He leaned over and cradled my face is his hands. I closed my eyes. His lips were soft and warm. I’d been kissed before by preppy boys at school dances. Awkward, wet kisses and wondered what the fuss was about. Then Rick kissed me and I knew.
His kiss was gentle. My heart pounded. Was I doing it right? My mouth opened and I kissed him back. It happened as natural and ordinary as that. Boy, did he know how to kiss.
Finally, he pulled back. I opened my eyes and felt dizzy.
“I knew I’d like kissing you.” He grinned.
“I haven’t had a lot of practice,” I said. Then kicked myself for admitting my lack of experience. Oh Lord, why did I just say that?
“Really?” he said. “I couldn’t tell.”
Then I remembered something Mom told me: “Either people make beautiful music together — or they don’t.”
At the time I didn’t understood what she’d said. Now I did. Those kisses from the other boys didn’t hold a candle to Rick’s. I wished I could talk to Mom about it. I couldn’t. It seemed as though I’d have to figure it all out by myself.
Chapter 12
Wednesday, May 10, 1961
Things were back to normal at the ranch. Although Freeman was jumpy and nervous, Russ got him to stand quietly as he put salve on the cuts. His chest looked much better.
“How are you holding up?” Russ asked later that week when I helped him with Freeman before supper. Shadow’s legs were healing well.
“I’m okay.” I didn’t tell him about my celebrity at school and all my sudden, new friends.
I met his eyes then looked away.
“You’re doing great with the horses. Looks like we should try another riding lesson now that you have more confidence working around them.”
I looked at the ground unable to meet his graze. “I have a confession to make,” I said.
“Oh?”
I cleared my throat and finally looked Russ in the eye. “I know how to ride.”
“You do?”
Silence stretched between us. Russ did nothing to fill it.
“Rick taught me how to ride,” I blurted out.
“Did he now?” That’s all he said. He waited for me to talk.
Slowly I explained how Rick met me in the meadow with Treasure. Then I told him how we kept meeting so I he could teach me more about riding.
“Whose idea was this?” asked Russ.
“Mine. After I saw Shadow Dancer, I wanted to know how to ride.” I hurried on. “Someday I’m gonna ride him.”
“You won’t tell Aunt Bess, will you?” I begged.
He studied me and I shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze.
“No. I won’t tell her,” said Russ.
I felt relieved. Great.
“You will.”
“I can’t.” I protested. “She’ll be so mad…”
“She’ll be more angry if you don’t tell her,” said Russ.
I knew he was right. It didn’t make me feel any better.
“Come on, let’s get supper. It will be easier to tell your aunt on a full stomach.”
I wasn’t so sure.
He put on his jacket and we walked side by side back to the house.
Even though I dreaded telling my aunt, I knew he was right.
Having trouble eating, I waited until dessert to tell her.
“I have a confession to make,” I began.
Russ watched me stumble for words.
Aunt Bess put her fork down next to the slice of pie on her plate. “Go on,” she encouraged.
“I…I know how to ride.”
Of all the things she expected, this wasn’t one of them, judging by the surprised look on her face.
“You do? How? Who taught you?” She fired questions at me like bullets. My aunt was no fool.
This wasn’t going to be easy. I plunged on. “Rick Ferguson.” I explained how we met in the meadow and he let me ride his horse.
“Then we kept meeting so Rick could teach me everything about riding.”
“I wonder what else Rick Ferguson taught you.” She mused staring at me until I blushed and turned my eyes away.
“I told you to stay away from him, young lady.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I lied when I agreed to stay away from Rick. I had tried. Oh Lord how I tried to heed her warning. It was too late. I couldn’t stay away from Rick Ferguson any more than I could stop breathing.
“Russ, did you know about this?”
He shook his head. “I just learned about it before supper.”
Aunt Bess let out a long sigh.
“Well now that you do know how to ride, you’ll be more help on the ranch,” she observed. “Russ, let’s get her up in the saddle tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” said Russ. “I think Freeman’s ready for some work. He’s recovered nicely.” He smiled at me. “So have you.”
Aunt Bess still fussed over my cheek as it healed. There was no infection. Little by little the line grew faint and it faded, along with my celebrity at school.
Meanwhile, I continued to medicate Shadow Dancer
’s legs twice a day. Doctoring him wasn’t a chore. I loved being with him in his stall. He’d put his head down and ruffle through my hair as I put the salve on his legs. When I finished I’d feed him a carrot. Working with him brought us closer together and now he nickered whenever I approached his stall.
I couldn’t shake the memory of the whip and that wild look in Grady Gibbons’ eyes. I had nightmares for weeks.
Chapter 13
Thursday, May 11, 1961
Tony Santos came to work at the ranch a week after Grady left. Russ knew him and his family. Tony had been a bronc rider in the rodeo. A leg injury ended that career. He had brown hair, hazel eyes and a gentle touch. The horses liked him. Full of energy, he rarely stood still. What a difference from Grady’s sullen attitude.
“Let’s get you up on Freeman,” said Russ one afternoon when I got home from school. Rick gave me a ride home as usual. Neither Russ or I mentioned that.
“Okay, let me change my clothes.”
A short time later I met him in the corral. With Grady gone, Freeman slowly gained confidence. He stood patiently at the fence without the restless fidgeting he used to be prone to.
“Let’s see how you sit a horse, now that you’ve had lessons,’ said Russ. He gave me a leg up.
I turned Freeman to the rail and squeezed my legs so he broke into a trot. I did a couple of circles in one direction, then turned around and went the other way. Freeman was obedient and had a smooth gait. I loved riding him. The lessons with Rick helped my confidence and my ability to ride.
After Freeman warmed up, I asked him to lope and he obliged. I relaxed into the rocking-horse gait remembering to sit tall and deep in the saddle. It was all about balance. That much I’d learned from Rick and smiled at the memory of our lessons together.
Russ watched from the fence without comment. I figured it was some kind of test. I’d watched him exercise enough horses, the green ones as well as the seasoned, to know the routine. So I put Freeman through his paces until he was breathing deep and sweating lightly. Finally, I stopped, patted his neck, and walked over to Russ. Maybe I was more relaxed because Aunt Bess wasn’t there to watch me.
“Well you know how to ride after all,” said Russ smiling. “Looks like you had a good teacher.” He held Freeman while I dismounted.
“He’s a different horse without Grady around. I think we’ll make him your horse. You’re a good match since you sit still and have quiet hands. That’s what this horse needs — someone calm and steady.”
Russ patted the horse’s neck. “He’s got a light mouth. Grady always yanked at the reins. No wonder the horse was nervous. Come on. Let’s cool him down.”
We walked back to the barn.
Since I first arrived at the ranch, I learned so much. I knew how to feed, had helped halter break some of the young colts, and groomed almost every horse in the barn. Now I was comfortable riding. It seemed like I’d been in Wyoming for a long time.
I didn’t want to think about my former life. So I blocked out memories when they came up about classmates and private school. And my parents? Their loss still felt like a dull ache that wouldn’t go away. Some days I’d be fine. Then a memory would set me off and I’d feel sad and out of sorts for the rest of the day.
After I walked Freeman around to cool him out, I rubbed him down. I liked the feel of his warm body and the pleasant odor of horses. He exhaled loudly as if he felt the same way. As Russ said, we made a good team.
Later Russ appeared at the door of the stall. “Are you all done, Maryann? It’s time for supper.”
It was dark by now. We walked back to the house in the flood lights following the elongated shadows our bodies made. The air was warmer and at night it didn’t get as cold as it had when I first arrived. I smelled spring in the mountain air.
Friday, May 12, 1961
I had no trouble keeping up in school. Lisa was in several of my classes and I enjoyed talking with her. I felt like I’d known her for years. We always ate lunch together. Her friends included me in their conversation and said hello to me in the hall. Although I wasn’t as close to them as Lisa, they were my new circle of friends.
The spring dance was coming up in a couple of weeks. The halls were covered with posters, as if anyone could forget. Rumors flew about who was taking who to the dance. I tuned them out since I knew my aunt would never let me go.
My eyes searched for Rick. He hung out with a set of older boys. Often they snuck out to smoke between classes. Even though Rick didn’t smoke, he went outside with his friends.
Giving me a ride home in his truck became an accepted routine, even if we didn’t get to talk much in school. By unspoken agreement, after school I waited for him at the door closest to the parking lot.
One afternoon we drove back to the ranch, Rick was unusually quiet.
Was something wrong? I couldn’t understand silence. Just before we got to the ranch I finally spoke.
“Are you okay?”
He stopped the truck at the top of the ranch’s drive.
“Damn, Pauline,” he muttered hitting the top of the steering wheel with both hands in frustration.
My heart froze as it always did when I heard her name.
“What . . . what happened?”
“I shouldn’t tell you this,” Rick looked at me sheepishly.
“What?” I demanded. I had to know. “What did she say?”
Rick looked straight ahead.
“She knows I give you a ride home. It’s not a secret. I guess everybody in school knows.”
“So?” I prompted.
“She threatened to tell your aunt.”
I wasn’t stupid. “Unless what?” I asked.
“Unless I take her to the spring dance.”
I was angry and hurt all at the same time. Leave it to Pauline to find my weak spot.
She didn’t like Rick. It was just her way of sticking a knife in my back.
What could I do? Tell her to go ahead and tell Aunt Bess I got a ride home every day with Rick Ferguson after I’d promised I wouldn’t have anything to do with him?
“Oh.” I sighed, defeated. I couldn’t win this fight. My crazy dream of somehow going to the dance with Rick evaporated into thin air. I reached for the door.
“Well that’s it then. Guess I better start taking the bus home.”
“Maryann.” He reached for me. I pulled my hand out of his. “Is that what you want?” he asked.
I shook my head afraid I’d cry if I said anything.
Rick pulled me toward him, leaned over and kissed me. It seemed like a long time before we drew apart.
“Wow,” Rick said.
I smiled back. He tasted of spearmint.
It didn’t matter what Pauline said or did. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t prevent the attraction that Rick and I felt for one another.
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Then the door behind me opened and I gasped.
Aunt Bess held the door.
“What are you going to do, young lady?” she echoed. “You are going to get out of this truck and you’re not going to have anything to do with this Ferguson boy.”
I turned to Rick. “It looks like Pauline didn’t wait for your invitation to the dance.”
“Maryann,” Rick called, putting out his hand trying to stop me. I was beyond his reach.
“Go on,” said Aunt Bess waving him off with her hand. “You’re not welcome here. You best be driving on. And you stay away from my niece. I’m not gonna tell you again, young man.”
She slammed the door of the truck.
“The next time I see you around Maryann,” she warned, “I’m talkin’ to your daddy.”
Then she took my arm and tugged me down the road to the house.
“Come on Maryann. There’s work to be done.”
I walked beside her, my mouth still tasting of Rick Ferguson.
Chapter 16
Sunday, May 14, 1961
I’d been in Wyoming almost a month now and was still adjusting to my new routine of school, working with the horses and church. I’d made a new friend, Lisa, and an enemy, Pauline. Rick was my boyfriend. My parents would have liked him. Too bad my aunt did not. Although Russ explained why she disliked the Fergusons, there was nothing I could do to change her mind, or win her over.
Now that I could ride, I began helping Russ school some of the horses. Once Shadow’s leg healed, Russ said we’d start exercising him, too. I couldn’t wait. Meanwhile, I continued medicating his leg twice a day and it was much better.
Public school was easier than the private one I had come from.. Art class was my favorite. Shadow Dancer’s portrait slowly came to life on the large canvas. No sooner did art class begin than it seemed like it was over. I wished I could spend all day painting.
Although Aunt Bess warned me to stay away from Rick Ferguson, I saw him five days a week at school and at church on Sunday. And there was nothing she could do about it.
Mourning my parents wasn’t a smooth road. Rather, it had peaks and valleys, sharp turns and boulders to navigate. Sometimes, my grief caught me by surprise, like it did one Sunday at church.
We’d finished Bible study and Rick walked me up the stairs. People milled around, talking before the service. I said goodbye to him and looked for my aunt. She frowned as I approached because she saw Rick behind me. Though she couldn’t prevent me seeing him in church; she didn’t like it.
“See you later,” whispered Rick. He squeezed my hand then turned to join his dad.
I slipped into the pew beside Russ and my aunt. She leaned over to say something to me, but then the service began. We stood up and began the first hymn. I never heard what she planned to say, though I suspected it had something to do with Rick.
After signing a couple of hymns and the offering was collected, Pastor Bill came down from the pulpit to the front.
“I’d like all our mothers to stand up in honor of Mother’s Day today.”
Mother’s Day? How could I forget today was Mother’s Day?
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