“He’s still in surgery,” she replied looking up.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “Grady Gibbons is booked for attempted murder. We also found some interesting stuff in his truck.”
“Oh?”
“Appears he was thinking of starting some more fires.”
“Land sakes.” She shook her head.
“I’m consulting with the insurance people, Bess. Looks like we’ll have enough evidence to convict him of burning down your barn.” He smiled at her. “Appears they are gonna have to pay for your new barn after all.”
“Well that sure is good news,” said Aunt Bess. “Now we just need Russ to recover.” She took a deep breath. “I’m praying real hard. Never saw so much blood.”
Moving to sit beside her, she clasped my hand so tightly in hers I almost cried out..
“Thank you for what you’ve all done,” she said including Rick and his father in her glance. “I hear Grady would have gotten away if it wasn’t for you two.” She gave me a hard look. “Maryann, I thought I told you to stay put in the house.”
“Yeah, like I was going to stay in the house while that maniac was running around with a gun.” I laughed.
The Sheriff moved toward the door of the waiting room. “I’ll leave you folks now. We can worry about the paperwork once Russ is recovered.”
“God willing,” mumbled Aunt Bess.
“Oh, I have faith in Russ. He’s got a lot to live for. I’ll check in tomorrow to see how he’s doing,” said the Sheriff and left.
A short time later, a doctor came into the waiting room still wearing his surgical scrubs. “Mrs. Perkins?”
Aunt Bess sat up. “Yes. How is he, doc?”
“He’s tough — and he’s lucky. The shot missed his heart. Another inch and it would have been a lot different. We got the bullet out. He’s lost a lot of blood. We gave him a transfusion and he made it through the surgery. That’s half the battle. He may need more blood tomorrow.”
“Can I see him?” she asked.
“When he’s outta recovery, we’ll call you. You can only stay a few minutes.”
Eventually a nurse came for Aunt Bess. She was gone about five minutes, and then returned.
“He’s so pale,” she said her arms tightly crossed against her chest.
Doug Ferguson stepped forward and put his arm around her. “Let’s get you home, Bess. You must be exhausted.”
“Home? Oh no, Doug. I’m staying right here tonight. I have to be here when Russ wakes up.” She turned to him. “I’d appreciate it if you could stay at the ranch and help Maryann. Call Tony Santos. He can give you a hand.”
“Sure Bess. Rick and I will stay as long as you need us.”
“Thanks, Doug.” She hugged him. “You’re a good neighbor and a good friend.” The she went over to Rick and took both his hands in hers. “You did the right thing, son. Couldn’t have lived with myself if Grady Gibbons got away after shooting Russ.”
“Glad I was there,” said Rick.
“And thank you for protecting Maryann. If she used that shotgun she woulda killed the son of a gun for sure.”
“I’ll bring you a change of clothes tomorrow,” I told her. “Say hi to Russ for me.”
She nodded.
Before I left the room, I hugged her. “Aunt Bess. If anything happened to you or Russ, I couldn’t bear it.” I started crying again.
“Oh honey,” she said hugging me. We cried in each other’s arms. Then she wiped her eyes and let me go.
“If you need anything else, you call me.” I told her sternly.
She looked exhausted. “I will, honey.”
The sun had set by the time we walked back to the truck,
Rick took my hand. His warm touch eased the chill deep inside me.
As if he could read my thoughts, he said softly, “It’s gonna be all right.”
Chapter 38
Saturday, August 19, 1961
Three days later, Russ sat up in bed complaining about the hospital food. Doug Ferguson gave me a ride in to the hospital while Rick stayed behind to do chores with Tony. We had a good visit. Mr. Ferguson updated Aunt Bess and Russ on happenings on the ranch.
“You must be getting better,” declared Aunt Bess.
“I wanta get outta here. Where’s that doctor?” he demanded.
“Never mind, You’re not going home until the doctor says you’re fit to go.”
“I’ll go nuts if I have to stay here another day,” he declared.
“Well go nuts then,” she said crossly.
Russ rolled his eyes, “Oh Lord.”
“I think the good Lord has done enough for you,” observed my aunt.
“Where are you going?” asked Russ as my aunt gathered up her things.
“You behave yourself. I’ll see ya tomorrow.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I’m gonna back to the ranch with Doug”.
“You’re leaving me?”
“You’ll be fine.”
“What am I going to do?” he fussed.
“Read some of those magazines everyone’s been bringing you.” She pointed to the stack on his night stand.
“Bess, don’t leave.”
“Honey, I need to get some sleep — and a shower. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Of course. Now behave and stop complaining.”
“Bess…”
“Remember what we talked about?” she interrupted him.
“Sure do, honey.”
“Well then you have something to look forward to tomorrow.”
He grinned. “Sure do. Come over here and kiss me proper.”
“I’ve already kissed you goodbye.”
“Well kiss me again, woman,” he demanded in a playful tone.
She returned to his bed and kissed him. The kiss lasted a lot longer than the first one.
“That ought to hold you,” he said.
She laughed. It was the first time my aunt left the hospital since the shooting.
“The first thing I’m gonna do,” she said in the car, “is take a shower. Then I’m gonna take a nap.” She looked exhausted.
When we got back to the ranch she looked around the tidy kitchen. “Appears you’ve all managed just fine.”
I went upstairs with her and changed into jeans before I went out to the barn to help Rick.
“How’s Russ?” he asked putting down the pitch fork.
“Definitely better. He wants to get out of the hospital and come home.”
“I bet.”
We finished the rest of the stalls then groomed horses for the rest of the afternoon.
Aunt Bess was still asleep by the time supper came.
“Shall I wake her up?” I asked Mr. Ferguson. He shook his head, busy preparing steaks for the grill.
“No, let her sleep, Maryann. I don’t think she got much rest at the hospital.”
Sunday, August 20, 1961
The next day, Aunt Bess was up by the time I came downstairs. Even though it was Sunday, no one mentioned going to church.
“Why didn’t someone wake me up last night?” she demanded.
“We thought you should sleep,” Rick’s dad explained.
“You should have woken me up.”
He didn’t respond. We had a big breakfast. Mr. Ferguson left to feed his horses and the two of ours still boarding there. Rick drove Aunt Bess and me to the hospital. Russ sat up in the bed which had been raised into a sitting position.
“Doc said I’m doing better and maybe I can get outta here,” he said.
“We’ll have to see about that,” replied Aunt Bess.
A nurse bustled in sending us out of the room while she ministered to Russ. We milled around in the waiting room until we could go back in. Aunt Bess went to get coffee in the cafeteria.
“Hi, Maryann,” greeted Pastor Bill. “How’s Russ?”
What was he doing here? Was Russ worse?
“I thought R…Russ was better,” I stammered
. “The nurse is in with him.” I gestured to his room.
“Where’s your aunt?” he asked.
“Went to get coffee. She’ll be right back.”
Then Lisa and her mother arrived with flowers.
“Hi, Maryann. How’s Russ? Where’s your aunt?” Mrs Barrows fired off questions without waiting for my answers.
“Getting coffee,” I repeated. “What are you doing here?”
She ignored my question. “Here, don’t crush them,” Mrs. Barrows said handing a small bouquet to Lisa.
What was going on?
Aunt Bess appeared and set her coffee down.
Lisa’s mother swept her into a big hug. “I’m so glad you’re doing this.” she said.
“Doing what?” I asked.
Aunt Bess turned to me.
“Russ and I are getting married today.”
I stared at her, speechless. My surprise must have shown on my face.
“I almost lost him,” she declared. “I’m not gonna take any more chances. It’ll take time for him to get back on his feet, and I’m not gonna have him stay in no bunk house while he does.”
“Why can’t he just stay in the house?”
“Because I’m not gonna be living in sin.”
The nurse came out to tell us we could go back in to see Russ.
“Pastor Bill, are you ready?” my aunt asked.
The pastor grinned. “Isn’t that the question I should be asking you?”
“Let’s do this,” she said stepping into Russ’s room.
He struggled to sit up straighter. Even I could see how tired he looked since we’d first arrived.
After a swift glance, Aunt Bess said to the pastor. “Let’s do the short version. I think he’s too tired for the long one.”
Russ held out his hand to my aunt. “Well, here’s my bride.”
Aunt Bess went to the other side of his bed and took his hands in hers. She reached forward and kissed him on the lips. Lisa gave the small bouquet to my aunt. Her mother put the flower arrangement on the window sill. She shook her head.
“And I was planning such a nice fall wedding for you.”
“We’ll have a reception at the church once Russ is recovered,” declared my aunt. She turned to me. “Maryann, why don’t you stand over here?”
I took my place next to her. Mr. Ferguson arrived and stood next to the pastor. Rick, Lisa, and her mother were at the foot of the bed.
“Ready?” asked Pastor Bill.
“Yep,” said Russ. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
The Pastor began reciting the ‘abbreviated’ wedding ceremony. I’d never participated in a wedding before. The ache in my chest throbbed. My father would never walk me down the aisle when I got married, and my mother wouldn’t be there to help me chose a wedding dress. Everything changed when their plane crashed. I looked over at Rick. His eyes met mine. I’d grown to count on him in a hundred different ways.
Was this how love started?
Lisa met my eyes and grinned. What a good friend she’d become.
People always cry at weddings. I used to think that was so lame. Now my own eyes filled as I listened to the vows Aunt Bess and Russ recited to each other. This was serious. Marriage was supposed to last forever. Aunt Bess lost one husband, yet she was marrying again — taking a second chance at happiness. It had almost been snatched away from her. If the bullet had landed differently, Russ wouldn’t be here. I got goose bumps at the thought.
Mr. Ferguson took the rings out of his pocket at the appropriate time. Aunt Bess and Russ put them on each other’s hands.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Pastor Bill said. “You may kiss your bride.”
Aunt Bess leaned over Russ. This time he took her face in his hands and pulled her close. The kiss went on for a lot longer than I expected. Aunt Bess was scarlet when they pulled away.
“Been waiting to make you my wife for a long time,” said Russ.
Aunt Bess was surprisingly quiet. She just held Russ’ hand as if she’d never let it go.
The doctor appeared after the champagne circulated in paper cups. Russ was only allowed a token sip.
“Come in doc, and congratulate me,” called Russ.
“Celebrate what?” asked the doctor, stepping into the room
He held up his hand clasped with my aunt’s. Their wedding bands sparkled. “We just got hitched.”
“Well congratulations,” said the doctor, turning to my aunt who blushed a deep crimson. “This must be truly the blushing bride,” he said.
He looked at his patient. “It appears you’re on the mend.”
Chapter 39
Monday, August 28, 1961
It was another week before they released Russ from the hospital.
“Feel like I’ve been sprung from jail,” he complained once we got home and he was settled on the couch by the fireplace.
Although Tony Santos was back, Rick and his dad continued to help out on the ranch.
“You don’t have to do this,” Aunt Bess protested.
“I know,” said Mr. Ferguson. “We’ll help until Russ is back on his feet.”
He spent nights at his place to take care of the horses. Then he came back and had breakfast with us. Rick slept in the bunkhouse with Tony. Seeing him every day, made my heart soar.
Aunt Bess told Russ to stay put.
“I don’t want you getting too frisky,” she told him sternly.
“Not me,” said Russ innocently. “I’m resting up for our honeymoon.”
She turned bright red. “You are the most infuriating...” She ran out of words and turned away.
He enjoyed rattling her.
“Ain’t love grand?” he sighed settling back into the cushions.
Russ continued to get better every day.
Friday, September 1, 1961
“What’s that noise?” Aunt Bess went to the window. “What in heaven’s name?”
I looked out. A large truck full of lumber pull into the yard. A slew of pickups followed.
“Russ? You know about this?” she demanded.
“It’s a barn raising, honey.” His eyes danced. “Today we’re gonna rebuild the barn.” He joined us at the window.
“Russ.” Her voice broke and she buried her face in his chest. He patted her back.
“It’s okay, Bess. Should be finished this weekend with all the help we’ve got coming.”
I recognized neighbors and many of the people who put out our barn fire.
She pulled away from him. “How did you…”
“Amazing what you can do over the telephone,” he said cutting her off.
Aunt Bess appeared speechless. That didn’t happen often. She turned to me. “Maryann, did you know about this?”
“No. It’s a total surprise to me.” I couldn’t stop smiling.
She looked out the window again, so she missed Russ winking at me.
“How are we gonna feed all these people?” I heard the tension in her voice.
“Got it covered, Bess. Woman folk coming with all sorts of fixings. You just keep the coffee coming.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Make some ice tea and lemonade. We’re gonna need plenty. The Boy Scouts will be here later.”
“The Boy Scouts?” my aunt shrieked. “What are they gonna do?”
“The Scouts are the worker bees,” explained Russ. “They’ll provide water to the men or bring them more nails. Any errand needed, the scouts will do the leg work. We’ve got them coming in shifts so they’ll be fresh and full of energy.”
“You’re thought of everything, haven’t you?” my aunt asked.
Russ smirked. “Well, I tried to, honey.”
He continued sharing his vision of the master plan. “After the walls are up, Charlie Painter and his crew are coming to do all the electric work. Then Simon Turner will do the plumbing. The barn should be finished Sunday afternoon. After that we’ll celebrate. Next week we’ll bri
ng the horses back.”
My aunt shook her head. “Must have been on the phone for days,” she muttered filling another coffee pot.
Russ came up and kissed the back of her neck. “Love it when you get riled, Bess,” he whispered loud enough for me to hear.
I giggled.
“Oh all the sneaking…” she was cut off when he turned her around and kissed her.
“Figured my wife waited long enough for her new barn,” he said.
She put her hand on the side of his face. “You should have told me.”
They were interrupted by a perfunctory knock on the door and Mr. Ferguson came in. “Morning folks. The wood’s here, Russ,” he said.
“I’ll be with you soon as I get my boots on.”
He nodded and left.
“You are not going out there to help.” My aunt’s eyes flashed.
“Just supervising darlin’. Won’t lift a finger.” He put his right hand over his heart. “I promise.”
Before she could say anything, he vanished out the door.
“He’s the most infuriating man,” she fumed.
I began boiling water for ice tea, trying to hide my grin.
“Can’t believe he pulled this off without letting me know.”
“Aunt Bess, he loves you.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s easy to live with,” she grumbled.
Another knock announced Lisa and her mom. They carried trays of food and put them down on the table.
“Haven’t had this much fun in years, Bess. When Russ called me, we got everyone in town involved.”
“Oh, Lord.” Aunt Bess seemed at a loss for words once more.
Mrs. Barrows put her arm around my aunt. “Never been to a barn raising,” she said, excitedly. “It’s going to be so much fun.”
“And a lot of work,” my aunt said.
Lisa and I grinned at each other.
Aunt Bess just shook her head.
Mrs. Barrows danced around the kitchen, her good mood contagious. Even my aunt began to smile.
Sunday, September 3, 1961
“How do you like the new barn?” asked Russ, his arm casually draped over his wife’s shoulder.
“I like it just fine,” she said, looking up at him. “Where did everything come from?” she asked. “I know the insurance check paid for the lumber…”
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