Transformation

by Rosemary Nourse

  "Why do you think that happens, what does it take to make it out here," she asked him.

  "Hard work, independence, durability, the ability to withstand solitude and stubbornness; folks too stubborn to give up. Does that sound like you?"

  "Some of it," she replied.

  "Exactly what are you looking for?" he questioned her directly.

  "I don't know."

  "I think you probably do," he disagreed.

  "Then why did you ask me?"

  "I don't know."

  "I think you probably do," she retorted.

  He backed off, he had no idea why he was asking her these personal things. It could only lead to trouble because then she would feel comfortable doing the same and he'd be inclined to answer. He didn't want to intimately know anyone right now. A wall of silence went up between them until Kate changed the subject.

  "What animals do you like working with the most?" she wondered.

  "Probably the horses. What animals do you enjoy working with most?"

  "I know you're teasing me because I really don't work with them, I just clean up after them."

  "That's working with them," he smiled.

  "That's true. Actually, I like the cows."

  "Cows?"

  "Yes, they're understated. People don't appreciate them; they're pretty, they're soft, they have beautiful eyes and they're gentle—most of the time."

  "They don't have much of a personality," he pointed out.

  "Now that's a rotten thing for a vet to say," she contradicted him.

  "I'll try to be more sensitive," he assured her.

  They finished their food and had a cup of tea to complete the experience.

  "Make any friends?" he asked her.

  "One or two—Eddie and Molly," she replied honestly.

  He laughed at her.

  "Do you have any friends?" she challenged him.

  "A few, people that I can count on."

  "That's hard to find."

  "It is," he agreed.

  Their eyes met, even though they were both guarded in conversation and how much they revealed, a connection had been established. An unspoken attraction existed that both of them wanted to deny.

  "Anyway, I'd better be going. It's getting dark and I'm not sure I can find my way back without daylight."

  "There's only two roads out of Colton," he teased her.

  "I'll ignore that remark since you bought me dinner. Thanks."

  "You're welcome. See you around."

  "See you," she said over her shoulder as she stepped out with her bags. He watched her walk to the truck, hair shining in what remained of the sun.

  When Kate got back to her cabin, there was a card on her bed and a plate of homemade brownies. It simply read, "Keep the truck, happy birthday, Burt, Marge and Molly."

  Hot tears filled her eyes; these people hardly knew her but already, they'd shown her more consideration and compassion than her mother ever had. This had been her best birthday.

  It started out as snow but turned into a pouring icy rain that Monday and mud was everywhere. The dampness made the pens and stalls smell worse than usual. Eddie had given Kate an old pair of rubber work boots, which were absolutely necessary for this type of weather. They stood together, detaching the cows from the milking apparatus.

  "So, you like the Doc?" Eddie asked her suddenly.

  "Where did that come from?"

  "Just wondering, he seems to like you."

  "Not particularly, he's okay. I don't think he likes me much, he's very serious," she responded.

  "He's like that, especially since—," he stopped himself from completing his thought.

  "Since what?"

  "Nothing. You and Molly want to go to the drive-in on Friday night? The latest Jim Carrey movie's finally gotten around to playing."

  "Sure, I could always use a good laugh."

  Kate stood up, petting the cows as they moved down the line.

  "You and those cows," he teased her.

  "Just don't tell the other guys that I named all of them."

  "I won't, 'cause you're buying all the popcorn and soda on Friday," he grinned.

  "Thanks for reminding me and that's called blackmail where I come from."

  "Whatever, as long as I get my hot-buttered popcorn," he laughed, not paying attention to where he was going.

  It was Kate's turn to laugh as he stepped right into a fresh cow pie.

  Unexpectedly, the rain continued all week. The rivers and creeks filled, swelling with rushing water. Even the animals seemed to be annoyed by the constant wetness of everything. There was more housework and laundry than usual, all the mud was tracked in no matter what precautions Marge took and everything was caked with mud. It was coming to the point where all the ranches in Mare's Creek were in danger from the excessive rain. They tried to sandbag the vulnerable low-lying areas and around the house. Every rancher in Mare's Creek had dealt with natural disasters before; floods, fires, droughts, tornadoes. But no matter how many years they'd spent enduring Mother Nature's extremes, waiting for one to end was never easy.

  Marge hurried up to the hay barn that Friday afternoon, just as Kate had finished stacking. They were going through the hay quickly since the animals were spending almost all their time inside. She had a grave expression upon her face as she greeted Kate.

  "We've got problems down by the stables in the southern pasture. You need to come back to the house now while I go with the men to help Burt," she instructed her.

  "Of course. What's going on over there?"

  "All the rain, it's flooded the main river and the creek that runs through the property. Burt has to herd the cattle back home a much longer route to avoid the water."

  Kate ran after Marge and didn't ask any more questions, she had enough on her mind. She watched Marge get into a truck with Eddie and the rest of the hands that usually worked this part of the ranch. She saw the look of concern on all of their faces. Kate went into the house where Molly greeted her with a hug. She promised to play board games with her after cooking supper. Molly stood alongside her and helped her prepare the large amounts of food.

  They were interrupted frequently by neighboring farmers and friends either calling or stopping by; those who didn't have severe flooding problems of their own went to help Burt and Marge when Kate told them where they were. Kate and Molly finished making the food and kept it warm on top of the stove and in the oven. Hour after hour passed, breeding a nervous tension in the air. Kate surmised something very bad must have been happening and that she was powerless to do anything.

  She knew Molly was uneasy and wanted to keep the child's mind off the reason both her parents were gone for so long. She led her into the family room where Kate made a fire and played games with her until she fell asleep, her head in Kate's lap. She stared into the fire, stroked Molly's hair and said quiet prayers for all of the people down in that flooded southern pasture. It was warm and soothing by the flames, the occasional cracks of thunder did not stir the sleeping girl. She felt safe in the warmth of the farmhouse and Kate's protection.

  Around two in the morning Kate had dozed off while sitting up, her back propped against the sofa, when she awoke to the sound of the kitchen door opening. She carefully got out from under Molly, gently placing her head on a pillow, before quietly walking into the kitchen. There must have been twenty people in there, all of them soaking wet and covered with mud. They were all somber and exhausted. Most of them sat down at the long farm table, some just shook hands with Burt and Marge as they departed again into the relentless downpour.

  Unnoticed, Kate went over to the stove and began filling plates with food, putting them on the table for whoever wanted to eat. There wasn't much conversation as the men ate in silence, hungry from all the physical effort. As Kate served the food, she also cooked more because there were so many of them. Marge was unusually quiet, she didn't move from her spot at the table or bustle around the kitchen. Instead, she remained by Burt in qui
et support. She got up only once to check on Molly.

  Kate wanted to ask what happened, but she didn't dare. If they wanted to tell her about it, they would. She looked over at Eddie, he was the only person she could talk to about what had transpired.

  Finally Eddie got up, put his hand on Burt's shoulder for a moment and left. Kate threw on her jacket and followed him.

  "Eddie, wait up," she called after him.

  "What is it," he asked her shortly.

  "What happened out there tonight?"

  "The cattle had to be herded to a safe spot, the way they were used to coming home was flooded out. We tried to herd them a different way, we had to go all the way around the outskirts. They were scared and confused, lightning and thunder cracking down all around us. A lot of them stopped moving and at least a hundred of them went on their way and tried to cross the creek. They drowned. Everybody was screaming, shouting, trying to do anything to get them away from the water. Tray almost killed himself, he went in the water with them trying to pull them out, but he couldn't do it, none of us could. We got off our damn horses, trying to tackle them, stop 'em any way we could. Nothing worked and after that terrible thing happened, we still had to drive the rest of the cattle back to safety in the storm. It was as close to hell as I've ever come."

  "That sounds awful, I'm so sorry," was all she could say.

  "We're all sorry, I feel for Marge and Burt, you could see their hearts breaking."

  Kate gave Eddie a hug; he embraced her back because he needed it. He pulled away from her, gave her a nod of appreciation, got into his truck and sped away.

  She was thoroughly wet as she walked back into the house to make sure Marge wouldn't have to do any housework. Marge was no longer in the kitchen, Kate found her by the fire kneeling next to Molly.

  Kate crouched alongside her, "I'm sorry about what happened, please let me know if there's anything I can do."

  "Thanks, you've done plenty. I don't know if I'll be able to sleep tonight. I know Burt'll be sitting up in that kitchen 'til dawn."

  "Why don't you stay down here by the fire, you'll slip into sleep without having to try so hard," Kate suggested.

  "Sounds like a good idea."

  "I'll bring down your nightgown and make you some tea."

  Kate did just that. Marge lay on the comfortable couch with a quilt draped over her, sipping hot tea, and looking at the sleeping face of her beautiful child. Her gaze became lost in the orange flames as she desperately hoped that at some time during the night, she'd be able to stop seeing those pathetic animals dying.

  Kate tiredly returned to the kitchen and finished cleaning up the tons of dishes left from the meal. Tray was speaking quietly to Burt as they attempted to comfort each other and make sense of the tragedy. Exhausted, she put away the last dish and plodded numbly down the muddy path to her bungalow. She suspected she'd have trouble sleeping as well.

  She was soaked to the bone as she peeled off the wet clothes that stuck to her skin and chilled her right through. She put on a long sleeved cotton nightshirt, dry socks and started a fire in her small hearth. Her damp hair hung in waves down her back and about her flushed cheeks. She planned to do the same thing Marge was, lose herself in the warmth of the fire and pray for sleep.

  Just as she sat down, there was a quiet rap at the door. She opened it to see a dripping wet vet standing there.

  "Hi, come in."

  "Hello, I'll be quick," he said, "Sorry to bother you, I know you must be tired, but I wanted to thank you for looking after Marge tonight. She seemed comfortable when I left, she's always taking care of everyone else, it's good to see her get taken care of."

  "I didn't do much, I didn't know what else to do in a situation like this."

  "We're all pretty helpless, I found that out first hand."

  He stood there not knowing what to say next, but he looked like he didn't want to leave. The teapot startled both of them as it whistled loudly.

  "Want some?"

  "Yeah, that would be great," he admitted.

  "Here," she said as she retrieved a dry shirt and an old pair of sweat pants from the cupboard, "they keep men's work clothes in these cabins."

  Tray went into the bathroom to put on the sweat pants while she stepped into the kitchen to prepare the tea. He came out with no shirt on, Kate happened to look up just as he was pulling it over his head. Her face burned red as she tried not to notice his muscular build and large arms. He yanked his boots off and placed the whole wet mess in a pile by the door. She didn't come back into the main room until he was fully dressed.

  "It's ready, here you are," she remarked as she handed him the mug.

  They sat down on the small worn couch in front of the hearth.

  "This is good," he commented, letting the steam warm his face.

  "I was chilled to the bone, I imagine you must be even colder. Between the fire and the tea, you should be warming up soon."

  He was warming up, but it had nothing to do with either of those things.

  He felt so comfortable, he could have fallen asleep right there. He wanted to lay his tired, aching head on her lap, look into her dark eyes and drift off. If only he could do just that, he wouldn't think about what he'd been through that night. He took his last sip of tea and told her he should be going.

  "Tray," Kate said as he stood up, "do you want to talk about it?"

  "No."

  "So you came over here for no reason?"

  "I came to thank you for looking after Marge, I'm very fond of her."

  "So am I," she paused, "I'm here if you need to talk," she turned away from him, gazing back into the hypnotic flames.

  "I don't talk about things much anymore," he began, trying to explain himself.

  "I understand."

  He walked back and sat down next to her, leaned forward on his knees and rested his head in his hands as he rifled through the damp dark waves.

  "When I was down at the creek trying to pull those animals out of the water, fighting to hold their heads up, kicking them, pushing them, doing anything I could think of to try and turn them around—I thought about what you'd said; that cows are gentle and have beautiful eyes. I started losing it right there in the middle of all that chaos. I watched their heads go under the water and not come back up, saw their bodies being swept away. Those eyes had terror in them, they looked at us like why did we do this to them, as if we led them to their death..."

  She put her hand on his arm in support, "I don't know what to say, but I know you did everything you could. I'm sure all of you tried your best."

  "We did and it's humbling when your best effort isn't good enough. We humans are so used to getting results when we give it everything we've got. We're used to success through hard work, we expect it. But Montana never lets you control her like that, she is the ultimate successor; her natural forces, her wilderness will always beat man."

  She listened intently as he spoke and then he turned towards her, feeling so drawn to her that it squelched his defenses. He leaned over slowly and kissed her softly. She didn't move, he'd caught her completely off guard. His kiss was sweet and nonthreatening, she wasn't afraid. He kissed her again but did not touch her and she did not touch him either, though it was long and passionate. Then without warning, he stood up, touched her cheek and left.

  Kate sat in front of the fire another few minutes, wondering what had just happened and then laid her head down, drifting into sleep. She pretended nothing did occur between them, for she was fighting her emotions as much as he was.

  Tray was up early to meet the governmental agencies that would deal with the contamination of the water from the numerous dead animal carcasses; his headache never did go away. The bodies would have to be hauled to the dump and that dubious task would take all day.

  That morning, Kate felt like she'd been run over by a truck. She only dragged herself out of bed for Marge's sake.

  Everyone was shuffling into the farmhouse and plopped down in their us
ual spots at the table for breakfast. It appeared to be a typical morning except for one thing; there was no conversation. Kate stood alongside Marge in the spacious kitchen as they prepared the eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes and toast.

  It seemed as if people were afraid to speak until given the signal by Burt or Marge. The only sound to be heard was that of utensils clinking against plates. Marge took her place beside her husband.

  "All right, that's enough. We've all been thru hard times before and we've always survived. We mourned our cattle yesterday and all through the night. Now it's time to pick up and start again, the morning brought the new day and yesterday is now the past. We are still blessed and we must always remember, no man controls Montana, we are on her land temporarily as a privilege," Marge stated strongly.

  A period of stillness followed her commanding words.

  "To Montana," Burt spoke up as he raised his mug of coffee and put an arm about his wife's shoulders.

  All the hands did the same. From then on, chatter once again filled the air. Burt and the men exchanged ideas on how they could slowly build up the herd and the possibilities of building another barn on high ground closer to the area that flooded, should it happen again.

  After almost two hours of work, the sun rose just before six and the sky was a brilliant blue. The air was clean and crisp with no hint of moisture. The birds were singing and the animals frolicking like nothing terrible had occurred. The only sign of tragedy was debris that needed to be cleared away and of course, far down the river, the bloated bodies of washed up cattle.

  Tray had remained at the emergency site all day as Burt and some of the other hands came down later to help load the bodies. It was extremely hard work, mentally and physically.

  It was near evening when Kate labored behind the house, clearing debris from the yard and garden area designated to be planted soon, as she tried to repair the damage done by the excessive rain. Home from school, Molly had come out to help her. She chatted to Kate cheerfully about her school day and took Kate's mind off the tediousness of her work.

  A shadow fell over her, shielding her back and arms from the bright spring sun. Kate stood up slowly, strands of golden auburn hair blowing about her face, her skin glistening with perspiration.