Maryann's Appaloosa

by Karen L. Phelps

  “Evening Mrs. Perkins, Russ, Maryann,” he said removing his hat politely

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, drying my hands.

  He grinned. “I wanted to deliver your present.”

  I stared. “My present? Rick, what are you talking about?”

  “It’s outside,” he continued. “Get your jacket.”

  I walked toward him and he helped me put it on. I felt so tired, even that seemed like too much effort.

  Aunt Bess and Russ, curious to see what he brought followed behind.

  Before he opened the door, Rick took my hand. “Now close your eyes. I want it to be a surprise.”

  I obediently closed them. He put a hand over them to make sure.

  “I’ve got you, now just follow me.”

  Rick helped me go down the steps, his hand still over my eyes.

  “Okay. That’s far enough,” said Rick. “Now open your eyes.”

  The yard was dark, the spotlight from the house illuminated Rick’s father standing beside a horse. A horse with a white blaze. The horse nickered, happy to see me.

  I stared.

  “Shadow?”

  Was this my ghost horse? Was this the animal I’d dreamt about every night and tracked for days? Was he real? Or was this another dream?

  Nostrils flared, he picked up my scent and took a step toward me. Then he nickered again.

  Running to him I threw my arms around his neck and buried my head in the crook of his shoulder, inhaling the strong horse smell of him.

  “Oh Shadow, you’re back,” I whispered.

  “Well, I’ll be,” said Russ.

  “Never thought we’d see that Appaloosa again,” said Aunt Bess.

  I began to cry.

  Rick put his arm around me. “It’s okay,” he soothed.

  Dizzy and unsteady, I leaned against him.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  I looked up through my tears.

  “I think . . .,” My head ached. Everything spun in a whirl around me.

  “Oh Rick.” That’s when sobs rippled through me like waves crashing on the shore. Salt tears ran down my cheeks as Rick held me.

  “I’ll put him away,” said Russ behind us.

  “Wait.” I turned around and hugged my horse one more time. “Welcome back, Shadow,” I said softly, stroking his face.

  I let go. Rick pulled me against his chest. “I got you, girl,” he whispered in my ear. I squeezed his arm.

  “That’s enough excitement for one night,” said Aunt Bess.

  We adjourned to the house.

  “Who wants coffee?” she asked after everyone sat down at the table.

  “Can I have tea?” I asked.

  “Sure, honey. I’ll put the kettle on.”

  As she filled the kettle and put it on the stove, Russ distributed coffee.

  I wrapped my hands around the tea she set in front of me and looked at Rick. “How did you get Treasure and Shadow back?”

  Rick grinned. “It was the darnedest thing. I kept checkin’ on the trails and whistling for Treasure. There was no sign of her. Then this afternoon just before dark, she shows up at our place with lover boy.”

  He laughed. “You shoulda seen ‘em. She was so proud, showing off her boyfriend. I opened the gate and they both came into the corral. I shut the gate and got a bucket of oats. They almost knocked me over to get to it. I got another bucket. They devoured two buckets.”

  “I can’t believe they’re back,” I said. It seemed like a dream.

  “Yeah, Treasure bought him home. I put her in the stall and called my dad. We loaded Shadow in the trailer and drove him over here.”

  “What a damned fool idea,” said Russ. “You coulda got hurt. You could have injured the horses. What were you thinking of letting your mare loose to catch Shadow? I never heard of anything so insane.”

  Rick looked him in the eye. ”It worked. We got them both back safe and sound.”

  “And eleven months from now you’ll have yourself a foal,” remarked Aunt Bess.

  “Yeah. I’ve always wanted to breed Treasure.” He grinned, “Shadow Dancer kinda made the decision for me.”

  He turned to Aunt Bess. “Of course, I’ll be happy to pay his stud fee.”

  “We’ll work something out.” she replied. “I’m just glad both of those horses are back safe and sound.” She shook her head. “Foolish.” “I think it’s time Maryann got to bed,” she announced standing up,

  Rick let go of my hand and stood up.

  She turned to him, “Thanks for bringing Shadow back. I know Maryann will finally get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Doug, you and your boy come over Sunday after church and we’ll have lunch.”

  “We’d be happy to, Bess,” Doug Ferguson said putting on his coat and hat.

  “You were right, Rick,” I said before he left.

  “What about?” he asked.

  “That Treasure would find him.” Tears filled my eyes.

  He bent over and kissed my cheek.

  “Well, I hoped she would.” He grinned. “I wasn’t sure it would work until she brought him home tonight.”

  Still feeling dizzy and weak, Aunt Bess helped me up the stairs. She got me changed and tucked into bed.

  “I’m so happy Shadow’s back,” I said settled under the covers.

  She swept my bangs aside and smiled down at me, her eyes soft. “I know.”

  “Guess God does care about Shadow Dancer and me after all.”

  “God always cares, we just don’t believe he does,” my aunt said. “Now go to sleep.”

  As she walked to the door I whispered, “I love you, Aunt Bess.”

  “Love you, too, child,” she said and closed the door.

  How could everything change so much in just a couple of hours?

  In my dreams, I rode Shadow Dancer.

  Chapter 36

  Thursday, August 17, 1961

  The next morning I woke early and dressed in a hurry. I couldn’t wait to see Shadow.

  Aunt Bess was already up when I got to the kitchen. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all and the circles were more pronounced under her eyes.

  “You’re up early,” she remarked.

  “I wanted to check on Shadow Dancer.”

  “Oh he’s still here.” She laughed. “Russ is feedin’ the horses.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked. She seemed quieter.

  “Oh it’s just one of my feelings,” she said dismissively.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been cold since I got up,” she explained. “It’s got nothing to do with the temperature.” She rubbed her arms briskly.

  “Then what is it?”

  “Ma used to call it ‘second sight.’ She had it, too. That’s where I got it from.”

  She shook her head. “I wish I didn’t have it. Been feeling like a heavy, damp blanket is weighing me down.” She shivered. “Something’s wrong, I just don’t know what it is, or how to help ”

  She stared off. “Felt that way the day Jacob died. I didn’t want him to drive to town. There was no stopping him.” She let out a deep sigh, tears in her eyes.

  She took another swallow of coffee. “When your parents died, I couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. It took two days to get the news of the plane crash. The whole time I couldn’t shake that feeling.”

  “Shadow’s back,” I said. “What could be wrong?”

  “I don’t know, child, but something sure is.”

  Now, I shivered.

  “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “Did you and Russ eat yet?” I asked

  “No. He should be back from feeding soon. Why don’t you get him, then we’ll eat.”

  ”Okay,” I got my jacket on, grabbed some carrots and headed for the stallion barn where they’d put Shadow last night.

  Shadow Dancer looked wonderful. I just stared at him like he was a ghost.

  “Welcome hom
e, Shadow,” I said softly feeding him a carrot.

  “I guess you feel pretty pleased with yourself now that you’re going to be a father twice over.”

  His soft brown eyes watched me and he nickered as if agreeing. Then he poked his nose through the stall door searching for more carrots. How did he know I had another one in my pocket? I fed it to him.

  “Well now that you’ve had your breakfast, I have to have mine,” I told him, petting the soft end of his nose. “See ya later.”

  Russ must be in the mares’ barn so I went there to get him. As I went through the door, someone grabbed me. A hard hand covered my mouth so I couldn’t scream.

  “Shut up, kid,” Grady Gibbons hissed in my ear. “You’re nothing but trouble.”

  His mustache rubbed against my cheek. He smelled of liquor, cigarette smoke and unwashed clothes. It made my stomach churn. I struggled to get away. He held me tight.

  “Stand still,” he demanded shaking me and shoving a handkerchief in my mouth. It smelled of sweat and smoke. I wanted to vomit.

  “Stop wiggling.” He shook me again, so hard my teeth rattled. “Or you’ll spoil my surprise.” His crazy laugh chilled me. Then he tied my hands behind my back and fastened the other end to the stall door.

  He took out a pistol and cocked it. “Now, let’s see where Mr. Stokes is.” His laugh echoed eerily around us.

  Helpless, I watched him walk down the aisle with his gun. I kicked the stall door behind me. I didn’t remember which horse was in the stall, it moved around, uneasy at the noise. Only a muffled thump sounded. It wasn’t loud enough to warn Russ. I screamed in frustration. With the dirty cloth in my mouth, it only came out as a growl.

  Oh Lord, I prayed silently, Please protect Russ. Keep him safe.

  I heard voices arguing. I couldn’t hear the words being said. The barn door opened and Aunt Bess stepped through with a rifle in her hands. She silenced me with a finger to her lips. I nodded. She put her rifle down and took the foul cloth out of my mouth. Then she untied me.

  “It’s Grady Gibbons,” I whispered. “He’s got a gun and he’s after Russ.”

  “You go call the Sheriff,” she said softly. “And then stay put in the house.” She pushed me out the door.

  I ran to the house. The kitchen had numbers posted on the wall by the phone, among them the Sheriff’s. With trembling fingers, I dialed the number.

  “Sheriff’s office,” a woman answered.

  “Send the Sheriff,” I gasped. “Grady Gibbons has got a gun and he’s gonna shoot Russ.”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “Table Top Ranch. Hurry.”

  “Sheriff is on his way,” she promised.

  I hung up.

  Hands shaking, I dialed Rick’s number without thinking,

  “Rick,” I cried, grateful that he answered the phone.

  “Maryann, that’s wrong?”

  “Grady Gibbons is here. He’s gonna shoot Russ. I called the Sheriff. Aunt Bess went in the barn with a rifle.”

  “I’ll be right there. You stay put in the house until I get there.” He took a breath and barked, “You promise me!”

  “Okay, okay,” I said and he hung up.

  I paced the kitchen, feeling cornered. Stay put? Are they kidding? While Aunt Bess and Russ may be killed?

  My mind made up, I went to the desk in Aunt Bess’s office, got the keys, then opened the gun cabinet. Picked up the shotgun, loaded two cartridges and snapped it shut. Walking fast, I headed back to the barn. I didn’t run because I couldn’t take a chance of falling.

  My hands shook when I opened the door of the mares’ barn and closed it softly behind me. There were voices arguing somewhere in the barn.

  Aunt Bess’s instructions came back to me from that first week. Afraid of guns, she persisted until I became a reasonable shot. Difficult though the lessons were, I felt ten feet tall once I consistently hit the target.

  “Stand with your feet apart,” she instructed. “Brace yourself. Don’t aim the gun unless you mean to use it. And when you do, don’t give anyone a second chance. You could be dead by then.”

  Standing by the door, I took the safety off. I raised the shotgun, ready for whatever happened next.

  A gun fired.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  Chapter 37

  Thursday, August 17, 1961

  Grady Gibbons ran towards me waving a pistol.

  With the shotgun against my shoulder and the barrel aimed at his chest I stepped into his path. “Stop right there or I’ll shoot.”

  I had no idea what happened to Aunt Bess or Russ. All I knew was Grady stood in front of me and I couldn’t let him pass.

  He stopped, cursing me. “You’re not gonna shoot me, are ya, kid?” he asked, confident I wouldn’t.

  “You burned our barn down,” I accused. “And you tried to kill Freeman. You wired his stall door shut.”

  “No great loss.” He spat. “That horse ain’t worth shit.” He took another step forward. “Now get outta my way.”

  “That’s far enough,” I said. “One more step and I will shoot.” I held the shotgun steady even though I shook inside.

  “Ah, ya don’t have the guts to pull the trigger,” he said moving closer, his gun pointed down.

  “Maybe not, but I do,” said Rick behind me. Then he moved forward to stand next to me.

  The seedy cowboy laughed. “Yeah, like you two kids are gonna stop me? Shit.” He spat a stream of tobacco. There was such contempt in his voice.

  Then he stepped forward — and Rick fired.

  The deafening sound bounced off the walls in the confined space. My ears rang. Grady spun and fell. The pistol clattered to the floor. His arm turned red. Rick immediately retrieved the gun.

  “Ya little shit! Ya shot me,” he ranted clutching his arm and writhing on the floor.

  A siren announced the Sheriff’s arrival. He came through the door with pistol drawn. He looked at Grady bleeding on the floor and Rick standing over him.

  “That crazy kid shot me, Sheriff,” yelled Grady. “Arrest him.”

  Aunt Bess poked her head out of the tack room.

  “We need help,” she yelled. “Grady shot Russ and I can’t stop the bleeding.”

  The Sheriff turned to the deputy behind him. “Call for the ambulance.” He looked at Rick. “Make sure Grady doesn’t go anywhere while I check on Russ.”

  “Yes sir,” Rick nodded keeping his rifle pointed at the bleeding man. “Now you know how it feels.”

  “What about me?” whined Grady. “I’m bleedin’ ta death.”

  The Sheriff gave him a cursory glance. “You’ll live,” he said and walked past him.

  I flicked the safety on, then leaned the shotgun against the wall behind Rick, well out of Grady’s reach and followed the Sheriff.

  Russ sat leaning against a sack of grain, the front of his shirt was bright red.

  “Darn fool won’t keep still,” said Aunt Bess.

  The Sheriff examined the wound. “He’s lost a lot of blood,” he said standing up. “Keep the pressure on the wound, Mrs. Perkins. The ambulance is on its way.”

  “What can I do?” I asked.

  My aunt didn’t answer. She bent over Russ, trying to keep the pressure on his wound.

  By the time the ambulance arrived, Russ had passed out. Aunt Bess was ready to get in the ambulance beside him despite the protest of the emergency folks. I put a hand on her arm.

  “Take care of him,” I said, tears on my checks.

  She hugged me quickly and got in beside Russ.

  The Sheriff shoved Grady in the back of his patrol car.

  Rick put his arm around me and walked me back to the house. Inside he took the shotgun from me. “I’ll put this away,” he said pointing the gun down. He took the shells out then left the room.

  I sat down on a chair. The room spun and I closed my eyes. The vision of Russ bleeding made me sob into my arms crossed on the table.

  T
here was a knock and Rick’s dad walked in. “What happened?” he asked. “I passed the Sheriff and the ambulance on the road.”

  I lifted my head. Before I could answer, Rick returned. “Dad.”

  “What happened?” his father repeated.

  “Sit down and I’ll fill you in.”

  First Rick poured coffee, added sugar and milk, and set it down in front of me. “Drink this, Maryann,” he instructed.

  Then he told his father what happened.

  “You shot Grady Gibbons?” his father asked in disbelief.

  Rick nodded. “Grady shot Russ.”

  “How is Russ?”

  “Bad,” answered Rick. “He lost a lot of blood. I winged Grady to stop him. I couldn’t let him leave after shooting Russ.”

  “And Bess?” he asked.

  “She went with Russ in the ambulance. He had passed out by then.”

  Doug Ferguson stared at his son. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “I didn’t want Maryann to shoot Grady,” Rick explained. “At close range, with a shotgun, she would have killed him.”

  That never occurred to me and I began to shake. I rubbed my hands over my arms. I felt chilled to the bone.

  “I’m not happy about you shooting anyone, son.” said his father. “I suppose, in this case, you did the right thing.”

  My stomach rumbled. With all the excitement, I hadn’t had eaten. It seemed like a long time ago that I had gone to the stallion barn to get Russ for breakfast.

  Rick heard the noise and turned to me. “Before we go anywhere, I’m gonna make you breakfast,” he declared, reaching for a skillet from the overhead rack. He fried bacon, cooked eggs, and made toast. He set the plate down in front of me and sat next to me while I ate.

  Ten minutes later his dad drove us all to the hospital.

  “I’m praying that Russ will be okay,” I said as we headed into town.

  I leaned my head against Rick’s shoulder and he put his arm around me.

  When we got to the hospital, Russ was in surgery. We joined Aunt Bess in the waiting room. She looked tired and smiled with relief when she saw all of us. Time dragged as we waited. We had no idea how long the surgery would take.

  Later that afternoon, the Sheriff stopped by. “How’s Russ doing?” he asked putting a hand on my aunt’s shoulder.