Megan’s legs trembled, and unconsciously she leaned against Dani, who put her arm around her. The minister explained, “This is that part of our service when we pray for those who are in need. Some of you may need physical healing; some of you may need to find peace through the gospel of Jesus Christ. Will you come as we begin to pray?”
Dani felt the tremor run through Megan’s body, and Dani hesitated. It was always a hard decision for her—to choose just how direct her actions should be at such times—but she whispered quietly, “Would you like me to pray for you, Megan?”
Megan’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she was swept with an anguish of spirit such as she had never known. For years she had closed up her emotions in a tight little box, nailing the lid down securely. But now they were rising powerfully, so strongly that she could only stand clutching the pew in front of her with all her strength. She hated displays of emotion and struggled in vain to staunch the tears that rose to her eyes, blinding her; she tried to keep the sobs that rose in her breast from issuing forth.
Then Dani spoke again, “Megan, I think it’s your time to let Jesus Christ take over. He loves you so much! Won’t you just let him have your life and do with it whatever it takes to give you peace in your heart?”
A war raged inside Megan. Terrible memories of her childhood came, memories of abuse that she had buried deeply, so that they only came in dreadful nightmares. Voices, or thoughts like voices, seemed to whisper to her: Don’t do it! Don’t let anyone control your life! You’ll have to give up so much!
Megan seemed caught in a fierce storm, with violent winds pulling and shoving her. She could only stand there, trying to hang on to something. The sound of people praying reached her ears, but she could not make out the words. Yet she sensed that there were others going through the same torment of doubt that was sweeping over her. She heard someone singing about Jesus—and every time the name Jesus came to her ears, it felt like a knife slicing into her heart.
The agony did not lessen, and suddenly she could not stand. Dropping to her knees, she laid her forehead on the hard edge of the pew, smelling the furniture polish and the fragrance of old wood. She pressed harder, needing the physical pain to draw her thoughts away from what was happening inside—but the emotional chaos swirled still, and finally she began to weep freely, as she had not done since she was a girl.
As she wept, she was conscious of Dani’s arms around her, of her voice as she prayed fervently. How long this went on Megan never knew, but there came a time when she cried out in desperation, “O God! O God! Help me!”
Dani’s voice came strong and quiet and joyful, “Just tell God you’re tired of your life, Megan, and ask him to make you a new woman. Ask in the name of Jesus!”
Megan at once gave up on herself. She saw the long empty years that lay behind—and, knowing that the same lay ahead, began to call on God. Almost at once, as she breathed the name of Jesus, the storm within her spirit began to abate. A sense of utter trust and dependency came to her, like nothing she had ever known. With great, shuddering sobs she relaxed and would have fallen to the floor, if Dani had not held her.
For a long time the two women knelt there, both weeping. Luke Sixkiller stood, not knowing which way to look. The service had impacted him, but he could see that Megan was going through something foreign to him. The pastor had been walking around, stopping to whisper a word to one here and there, and he glanced down at the two women, then gave Sixkiller a keen look. Luke braced himself, expecting a sermon. The pastor said nothing, only fixing his blue eyes on those of the other man. The policeman who had intimidated killers and rapists with a look from his own black eyes, could not hold the minister’s steady gaze. He dropped his eyes, then turned and walked quickly out of the church.
Outside, he was amazed so see a slight trembling in his hands. He stared at them, murmuring in shock, “I didn’t think anything could make me do that!” He walked around nervously, while the two women tarried. Finally they emerged, and Sixkiller looked closely at Megan’s face. It was swollen with weeping, and tears had made a trail through her makeup, but there was something different. He had admired her greatly, for he had seen a toughness in her that he himself possessed. But now that had somehow been transformed. A new aura of vulnerability wreathed Megan’s face, and there was a softness on her lips that had been missing.
“Ready to go?” he asked awkwardly, trying to appear nonchalant.
“All ready, Luke.” Dani smiled.
The three of them got in the car, Sixkiller in the back, watching the two women carefully. Dani spoke easily about the service: “He’s a fine preacher, isn’t he?”
Megan nodded, sitting there possessing a thoughtful silence. But Sixkiller answered slowly, “He’s got a pair of eyes on him. Reminds me of an old boss of mine. Only different.” He didn’t speak about his own reaction to the scene, but when they got out at the motel he went away at once, anxious to get out of the presence of the two women.
“I think Luke’s in shock.” Megan smiled, watching him leave hurriedly. Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. “I know I am.”
Dani gave her a sudden hug, exclaiming, “I’m so happy for you, Megan! You’re going to be a great Christian!”
Megan looked at Dani with an odd expression. “Is that all there is to it, Dani?”
“All there is to being a Christian?” Dani echoed and shook her head so violently her auburn hair swirled in the sun, sending off golden glints. “Of course not! It’s the beginning, Megan! You’re a baby, that’s all. Now you’ll begin to learn how good it is to have a friend. Not only the Friend, but other friends. Like me.”
Megan said slowly, “I feel so peaceful, Dani. But will it last? What will happen when trouble comes?”
“Jesus will be right there, Megan!” Dani encouraged her, with a glad light in her glowing eyes. “He’ll never leave you nor forsake you.” She laughed, adding, “Come on, let’s get something to eat. Then we can talk about it!”
The two women disappeared into the motel, and the sun threw its rays down on the trees and on the large calico cat that dozed in the shade of the roof.
10
Dani Gets a Call
* * *
Dani awoke early Monday morning feeling some degree of agitation. Several times she had seen people make professions of faith that did not seem to last. Would Megan turn out to be one of these? She lay in bed, stewing over the thought that the pressures she knew would come to bear on Megan might be too great. For a while she prayed earnestly; then finding herself wide awake, Dani got up and dressed, putting on faded jeans and a denim shirt with large buttons. Quickly she went to the restaurant.
The waitress had just brought her a short stack with bacon when Ruth walked in. Dani waved at her, motioning her to the table. As soon as the other woman sat down, Dani asked, “How’s everything going?”
Ruth’s short black hair was not brushed as neatly as usual, and a worried expression drew a pair of vertical lines between her eyes. Shaking her head in an abrupt gesture, she answered, “All right, I guess, Dani. I didn’t sleep much.” A short, heavy-set waitress with a mop of blond hair came up for her order—toast, juice, and coffee—and when the girl was gone, Ruth said briefly, “Well, to tell the truth, I’m worried about Clint.”
“He still grieving over his horse?”
“Sure, but it’s more than that. He’s not riding well, for one thing.” She leaned her head down, taking her chin in one hand; a dark brooding appeared in her eyes as she added sourly, “Well, neither am I, for that matter. My concentration is off, and you know what that means.”
The waitress returned with juice and coffee, and Ruth drank the juice at once, making a face. “They must trample the oranges with their feet!” she complained. Then, taking a sip of scalding black coffee, she stared across the room. “Clint’s the same way. Maybe all of us are alike in this crazy business. We don’t get paid unless we win, and when we don’t win, the bills start climb
ing. And that makes us more tense—which means we get a little more uptight.”
“But Clint’s made a hundred thousand dollars this year,” Dani exclaimed. She took a morsel of pancake, put it in her mouth, and chewed it slowly. It was not as good as her mother’s, but not bad for restaurant fare. “And he’s still number one in the rankings.”
“It sounds good.” Ruth nodded. “But you don’t know how fast he can go through money. He’s fighting the IRS, and nobody wins much off those people!” She took another swallow of coffee. “He gambles, too, and even though he won’t say, I think he’s lost quite a bit.”
“He’s still number one, Ruth.”
“He’s thirty-eight years old, Dani. That’s an old man in this business. You ever look at the faces of the guys who ride the rough stock? Most of them in their early twenties—some of them even younger! A man can only take so much of getting snapped like a whip on the back of a bronc. Even if he doesn’t get a serious injury, that daily pounding will get to him.”
“I’ve seen that.” Dani shook her head. “When I asked Tom Leathers if he’d ever been badly hurt, he told me, ‘Why, no, not serious. I had my head tromped on. Had my nose broke, and my legs been cracked a couple of times. All my vertebrae except two have been knocked out of place. Had a couple of teeth knocked out. One time a horse stepped on my mouth, cracking all my back teeth, and I had to have ten fillings. Nothing really serious though. If I ever get hurt real bad I might quit.’”
“Sure, that’s the way they all are,” Ruth commented. “And when a man’s thirty-eight he can’t shake it off like he did when he was eighteen.” The waitress brought her toast, and she sat there, nibbling at it, talking mostly about Clint. Finally she said, “He’s worried about the future, Dani, for the first time in his life. He sees Bake edging closer to the number-one slot, and he knows he can’t do anything else. He’s got no money saved, so it makes him edgy. Losing Tarzan was hard, and he swears he’ll kill the man who did it.”
Dani looked up, and seeing Megan enter, motioned her to come over, comforting Ruth, “He won’t do that, I guess. Whoever it is, he’s going to be hard to catch up with.”
Dani smiled at Megan. “You look chipper this morning.”
Megan returned her smile. “I slept like a baby all night. Haven’t done that in a long time. I guess there’s something to this business of being a Christian.” She caught the surprised look that swept Ruth’s face and laughed. “That’s right, I’ve hit the glory trail, Ruth. Next thing you know, I’ll be toting a Bible around and getting rid of my makeup.”
The waitress returned, and Megan ordered eggs and bacon, then sat back in her chair, looking refreshed and content. Ruth examined her carefully, before admitting, “I didn’t know about that, Megan.”
“All Dani’s fault.” Megan grinned. “She hauled Luke Sixkiller and me off to church yesterday, and I got converted. Better watch out for this girl, Ruth; she’s not a Bible thumper, but she’s got her wiles.”
“Oh, Megan . . . !” Dani protested, but Megan laughed at her, excused herself, then said, “Don’t mind anything I say, Dani. I’m just so—so peaceful!” There was, both women saw, a new quality in Megan. She had been outgoing enough, but there had always been a wall between herself and others. Now it was gone. While the journalist sat there smiling and talking rapidly as she ate her breakfast, Dani saw that Ruth was shocked by the change in Megan. Dani herself felt relieved; obviously Megan was overflowing with a new assurance.
They ate breakfast, Megan telling the story of her conversion with no trace of reticence. When Ruth asked her tentatively if she thought it would last, Megan replied, “It’s lasted all day and all night, Ruth. I guess I’ll have a few down times—but no matter what comes from now on, something happened to me in that church. It was always hard for me to ask anyone for something. Too much pride, I guess. But when I cried out and asked God to help me—why, he did!” A look of wonder crossed her heart-shaped face, touching her blue eyes, and she quietly continued, “Nothing’s the same this morning. Lots of old problems, sure—but something inside me now that makes them all look small.”
“That’s the peace of God.” Dani smiled. “The presence of Jesus Christ inside.”
Ruth sat there silently as the other two women spoke, and when they got up to leave, she was so subdued that Dani noted it. “I know you’re worried, Ruth,” Dani acknowledged. “But God cares for you. Don’t forget that.”
“It just looks so—so hopeless!” Ruth cried out.
Megan gave Dani a quick look, then put her arm around Ruth. “Don’t give in. I’ve got an idea that this thing won’t last too much longer.”
Dani shot a glance at her, demanding, “Have you got something, Megan?”
Megan only shook her head. “Nothing I can talk about. Not yet. But I’ve got my tape recorder running and the old video, so watch out!” Then she smiled cheerfully. “Just give me a little time, girls!”
She refused to say more, and as she left the restaurant, Ruth observed, “She’s so different, Dani! She’s always had a lot of confidence, but she’s sort of bubbling over now. Is that the way getting converted makes you?”
“Sometimes it does.” Dani nodded, but her thoughts were on other things. “It bothers me, Ruth—what Megan just said. If she’s got something, I’d like to know it.”
“Maybe you ought to tell her the truth.”
They were walking to the parking lot, and Dani waited until they were in the car and on the way to the Dome before she admitted, “I can’t decide. Maybe I will tell her. She’s a sharp lady, Ruth. And we could work together on this thing.”
She spent two hours with Biscuit, practicing her runs, then grooming him carefully. As she brushed his tail, she thought suddenly of how her life had been linked with the rust-colored horse. She had always loved the sturdy quarter horse, but her duties had prevented her from spending much time with him. Now every day she was with him for long periods, and she slapped him fondly on the neck, dodging as he nipped at her, playfully. “You ornery critter!” She smiled and gave him three cubes of sugar. His velvet-soft lips tickled the palm of her hand, and he nudged her side, begging for more. She gave him all the cubes she had, then said brusquely, “Now, that’s all there is, you panhandler. And if you knock a barrel down this afternoon, I’ll sell you to the soap factory!”
As usual, the barrel-racing event came late in the program, so Dani went behind the chutes to watch the other events. In the saddle-bronc competition, Bake won first place, with a score of 78, on a hammerheaded bay; Clint came in a hair behind him, with a 77. Dani noticed that when Bake jibed, “Hey, old man, you’ve got to do better than that if you want to hang on to that All-Around Championship this year!” Thomas gave him a glowering scowl and walked away without an answer.
“You shouldn’t rub it in when you win, Bake,” Dani warned.
Bake gave her a look of surprise. “Why, we all ride each other, Dani,” he said at once. Then he frowned. “I reckon Clint thinks he’s beyond a little kidding. But his head won’t be so swelled when I take the number-one spot this year.”
Dani suddenly realized that Bake, for all his amiable ways was a predator. He stared after Thomas with a hard look in his dark blue eyes, and his wide mouth was drawn into a mere slit, all humor gone. Dani thought, Bake’s nice enough—but the rodeo is his life. And the only way to make it in this world is to win. That means putting your body and your life on the line day after day—and it means that all the other contestants are in some ways the enemy. Bake could have enough desire to do anything he had to for the championship, she decided. He could even have been the one who knocked Clint out and broke Tarzan’s legs.
But the hard, angry look in Bake’s eyes was gone, and she put the idea out of her mind. She watched the team roping event, admiring the skill of the horses as much as that of the riders. The bull riding was next, and as she moved across the packed earth, she found Sixkiller and Wash Foster helping a young cowboy named Pete Duboi
s settle down on a gray bull. Dubois was a tall fellow with a shock of yellow hair and a pair of light blue eyes. He was pounding his rosin-soaked glove into place around the handhold, his face serious.
“Fit a ride on him, Pete,” Foster said. Dubois nodded, and the gate swung open. The bull came out bucking in a stiff-legged, jolting way that snapped the rider’s body like a piece of rope. They were going down the fence line right in front of the first row of the grandstand, when suddenly the bull kinked his back, sending Dubois off between him and the fence. The cowboy was up at once, but the big bull swung his huge horns in a scything motion right and left. Clearly Dani heard a whump! whump! sound that made her stomach grip tightly.
Hank Lowe and Rocky James were there instantly, waving their hands in the bull’s face, but as they lured the huge animal away, Dubois staggered backward, then fell in a deathly limp way.
“Get him!” Clyde Lockyear was the first man there. He took one look at the boy, then shouted, “You guys—let’s get him out of here!” He directed four cowboys to pick up the limp form, and even as they carried Dubois out of the arena, the announcer cried, “We need the ambulance in the arena. Hurry, please. Clear those gates! We have a man hurt!”
Dani could not move, and when the four men, led by Lockyear, came right by where she was standing, one glance showed her that Dubois was writhing, with blood flowing from his nose and his mouth. He clutched his chest, and Bake muttered, “He caught a good one, I think.”
The rodeo went on, the announcer droning out the names of the contestants as the chute gates flew open and the bulls came charging into the arena. Dani saw Sixkiller moving toward one and despite herself she caught his arm, saving “Luke! Don’t do it!”
He paused and looked down at her. She saw that his mouth was in a hard straight line. But he only said, “I’ll see you after the ride.”
Revenge at the Rodeo Page 14