Liberty Ranch

by Temperance Johnson

  Finally, the screaming came to cease and so did the fight. Clarissa went limp in Katrina’s arms like she had passed out or fallen asleep. Katrina laid her on the bed but didn't move. She just sat there watching her new daughter while she prayed and thought. What caused this? Would she ever know what made Clarissa tick? At least the other girls remained calm during this one.

  CHECKING ON THE GIRLS’ room, Andrew and Katrina noticed that chaos must be normal for them because they slept peacefully through Clarissa’s screams. Francesca slept in her new nightgown with her arm lying over Sara’s arm, while Sara slept in her undergarments again. It was the heart of the winter, Sara would need to dress warmer. She could catch a cold that could get the rest of the family sick. Katrina remembered when Jesse’s twin, Pedro, came back sick and no one but Ellen was allowed in the room. Katrina never wanted to face anything like that again.

  Andrew took Katrina’s hand and they walked away from the girls’ room. In the kitchen, they felt like they could talk. Andrew spoke first, "You're right." He shook his head. "That was strange."

  "You thought I was lyin’?" Katrina snapped.

  "Of course not," Andrew told her. "But I never thought a child could scream and act like that. How did you know what to do?"

  Katrina shrugged. "I don't, I just did what I could." She unloaded the groceries Andrew had bought in town.

  Still in shock, Andrew didn't know how to take this all in. Was he willing to put Katrina through this? Was it worth it when she had been through so much already?

  Katrina slammed a bag of sugar on the counter. "Don't even go there, Andrew. I can handle this and I plan to do it, so don't change your mind because of me."

  "But what if they physically hurt you?"

  Katrina shrugged. "I love them and I will fight for them."

  Andrew nodded. "This will be rough."

  "God sends us challenges," Katrina told him. "He did it in the image of three little children."

  Andrew took her hands. "God sent us these children."

  "I agree, love." She looked at him with a flirty look. "Are you going to let my hands go so I can put away the food?"

  He did and winked at her. "We can do things like this."

  "You need to go to bed. You have work."

  "What, do you think I am an old man?" he teased her.

  Katrina pulled away and went to the other end of the kitchen. He enjoyed watching the way she moved her hips. "Well, Andrew Starry, you ain't any younger. And let's just say you ain’t as strong as you used to be."

  Andrew caught onto it and chased her around the kitchen until he caught her. "Let me show you who’s weak, woman." The food didn't get put away for some minutes.

  "FRANCESCA, I WANT YOU to do this right now," Katrina told her, keeping her voice even.

  "No." Francesca crossed her arms firmly.

  "Then you will have to be disciplined." Katrina shook her head, her mind running on how to do this. "What chore do you like to do, because work is a part of life."

  "What am I good at?" Francesca threw her arms in the air. "Come on, you don't know? I am good at entertaining men. That is what I learned since I was a young girl. It's all I know! It's all I will ever know."

  Shocked, Katrina's mouth dropped open. She didn't know what to say to Francesca. She couldn't believe how Francesca viewed herself and felt like crying for Francesca, for what this child had suffered at a young age. She was glad the two other girls were outside.

  Francesca shook her head at Katrina’s shock. "Oh, you are so ignorant to the world around you." She swore. "I wish I were that lucky in life."

  Though Francesca’s words hurt, in some ways Katrina agreed. She was naïve to what Francesca had suffered. She knew Clara, her first friend, suffered, but as a child Katrina couldn't help her. Nightmares of the way Clara died still haunted Katrina. For a moment, she recalled seeing Clara lay in her own blood from what men caused, but she quickly blinked against the memory. Besides Clara, Katrina was still innocent to the life Francesca and Sara lived. Could she be a good mother to them? The mother they needed. She opened up her mouth, then shut it when she didn't know what to say. She saw Francesca's gaze go behind her. Expecting to see Carlissa, Katrina turned around, but instead she was surprised to see Izzy standing in the door. “Hi, Izzy, this is Francesca.” She looked back at Francesca. “Fran, this is my friend, Izzy Donavon.”

  Izzy nodded to her. Then laid her eyes on Francesca, her face expressed love and open honesty. "You just need to learn a different trade."

  Francesca's eyes turned from Katrina to Izzy.

  Izzy walked in like she knew her way around the place. She nodded to Francesca and looked at Katrina, "You don't mind if I take Francesca with me, do you?"

  Katrina shook her head. "Francesca, we will talk about this later."

  Francesca glared at her.

  As they walked out, Carlissa strolled in carrying the milk pail. Katrina assumed that Andrew would bring in the rest of it.

  Carlissa set it on the counter, her face angry. Unable to assist Carlissa in time, Katrina watched Carlissa dump the milk all over herself and the clean floor.

  "Carlissa, why did you just do that?" Katrina asked.

  Carlissa ignored her question. "Who is that Spanish lady? I don't like her. She was signing with Andrew."

  Katrina wouldn't let her change the subject, "Carlissa, answer my question. Why did you spill it?"

  She looked up with an innocent expression. "I didn't! You bumped me."

  "Carlissa, you know that is a lie." Katrina sighed. "Well, I'll get you a bucket and you can clean up the mess."

  Carlissa screamed at Katrina, but with Katrina's help she cleaned up the spilled milk.

  Chapter 7

  Izzy walked to the paddock where they kept the horses. Francesca walked beside her with her arms crossed. In those beautiful brown eyes was anger and fear.

  They came to the fence and looked out at the most beautiful animal God had ever made. "Francesca, pick one of them. You can keep it forever."

  Francesca didn't believe her. "I don't like horses."

  "A person without a horse is like a person with one leg," she exclaimed. "This is a workin’ ranch. Everyone needs a horse, so go out and pick one."

  Francesca looked out at the horses, trying to act bored and indifferent. But Izzy saw the light in her eyes and the softness that came to her face. Izzy was seeing a glimpse of the child in her. She just stood there silently, waiting. Finally, Francesca opened up the gate and walked in.

  Entering the paddock, Francesca's back went straight, and her hands balled into fists. Izzy wasn't surprised that she was afraid of horses. "Come on, Francesca." Walking closer to them, Francesca followed. "Any one horse can be yours, to care for, ride, or train. These horses are green."

  Still gazing at the horses, Francesca asked, "What is green?"

  "They are still in training," Izzy explains. "But none of them should buck you off, though. Donovans know how to raise good stock." She was proud of her horses and her hard work to get the Donovan name back after her dad had destroyed it.

  Francesca pointed. "What about the black and white one?"

  Izzy smiled. The little gelding was a feisty little spitfire. "Well, he doesn't like to listen to anyone. I have far to go with him."

  Francesca frowned; her shoulders sagged. "You said I could have any horse out of this pen."

  Izzy nodded as she took a rope off the fence. "All right, just don't expect a miracle." She heard Francesca’s gasps, as she pulled the rope to find that the feisty horse wasn't having it. She walked up to the horse and placed a halter on him. She stood watching him run around the pen, near his pasture mates. "He is a paint; When we got him as a yearlin,’ he was pure wild and ran the range up in Texas. He's about four years old now and as grumpy as a turd, but he'll show you what to do."

  "Is he a mustang?" Francesca inquired in awe. She seemed a little nervous at first, but the fear left as she continued watching him. “So
you're from Texas?"

  "Yup."

  "What made you come here from that barren, hopeless state?" Francesca asked bitterly.

  Izzy didn't have to look at Francesca to see the evidence of the broken girl. She could hear it. Her brokenness came out at the oddest times. Izzy figured that many of Francesca's abusers were from Texas. Francesca probably missed the loveliness of Texas. She shrugged and was honest. "To get away from my pa, who beat me." Keeping her eyes on the paint, her voice still light, she said, "I found out I liked it here, near the mountains, rivers, valleys, and even the winters." She paused. "So where're you from?"

  "You wouldn't believe me if I tell ya," Francesca said in a hard voice.

  "You won't know until you tell me," Izzy spoke in Spanish.

  "Yeah, right!"

  Izzy handed the rope to Francesca as she gave her directions to repeat the same actions she had seen Izzy performing. Francesca obeyed, but the horse sensed her fear and tested her control. He started bucking a little.

  "He didn't do that for you!" Francesca cried.

  "He is only testing you. Now show him who’s the boss. He needs to know you will protect him by making him have rules. You're doing fine. Keep at it."

  Francesca did and Izzy walked to the paddock boards next to Sara, telling her what to do. "Now get him going faster."

  As Francesca did, Izzy talked to her. "With a horse, you can do anything. It feels as if you are truly flying. It will take your breath away every time. When you have a relationship with a horse there has to be a leader. Work through your problems together. Sometimes you will fail, but ultimately you are gaining trust. Once a horse's trust is gained, it is hard to lose it. If you lose their trust, you can always gain it back. It is never hopeless when you have the love of a horse."

  Izzy noticed Katrina and Sara had walked up and were standing by the fence. Sharing a smile with them, she turned back to face Francesca. "Now stop in the middle, Fran. Turn your back to him." Francesca's back was straight with fear again. Izzy encouraged her, "Just relax. He won't hurt, he is learning to trust you."

  "Really?" Francesca asked. She seemed to relax her body a little as the horse walked behind her. Francesca touched his nose with her hand. The smile on her face showed it all.

  "Yup, he is bonding with you. Now walk away."

  Francesca obeyed and the horse followed her. The horse moved with her as if they were one.

  "With a mustang it is easier because they normally have never been abused by a person. While a horse that has been abused may be angry and very fearful." Izzy paused. "I have worked with both. Based on the ones I worked with, I realized that it has to be the horse's choice. They can choose to obey and live a healthy life by doing a job they love. On the other hand, they can choose to fight me every time, and live an unhappy life. It's all about choice and change. They always have an option to change their ways with help from a loving owner."

  Izzy spoke up, "So Franny, what do you want to name him?"

  She looked up at her. "You mean I get to choose?"

  Izzy nodded.

  Francesca turned and looked up into the horse's eyes, and then said, "Your name will be Poder. It means power.”

  Izzy smiled at the pair. Hopefully, Francesca would see the healing power in this horse. And so much more to come.

  I HATED MUCKING STALLS. Francesca thought as she shoved another pitch fork of horse poop into the wheelbarrow. All they want to do is work. When they know I am so bad at working, then they won’t want me to do more. I could just stop working and they would kick my butt in this place. They really don’t like me. Katrina wants me for work and Andrew doesn’t know how to treat a girl. My daddies never treated me like Andrew. What is wrong with him? My daddies never made me...

  Suddenly she saw a boy walk into the barn. His face had a scar or birthmark right down his face, it was hard to miss. His broad boyish smile made her heart feel light.

  "Howdy, Francesca. I am your closest neighbor, Timmy, next door," he stuttered.

  "I ain't livin' here." She frowned. "I am just passing through."

  "Well then, I will be next door as long as you stay," he told her. "You are about a thirty-minute ride or hundred steps from my house."

  "Why in the world would you count your steps?" She looked at him like he was crazy.

  "My brothers are blind and our friends used to live here."

  She leaned on the pitchfork. "Why do you talk so funny?"

  "Some people say it’s because my brain didn't develop right. My mom says cuz I’m special." He grinned. "But most moms are supposed to say that, right?"

  Francesca blinked.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Picking up horse poop with a knitting needle," Francesca said, then swore.

  Timmy laughed. "My favorite chore in the barn is mucking stalls. It gives me time to think. I talk to my horse and God."

  "Who answers?"

  "My horse does when he’s not mad at me, and God always responds."

  Francesca smiled. "You're different. Most people would freak when I swear."

  "I just figured it was between the good Lord and your parents." He held up his hands. "Okay, the people you live with."

  Again Francesca smiled at him. She couldn't help it because he was so boyish.

  "My brothers will probably tell you to stop, though."

  "Why? They want me to change, too."

  "No, they've just been where you are."

  Glaring at him, Francesca said, "You are a..."

  "Good looking, kind gentlemen." He grinned. "You don't have to say it."

  Francesca rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

  “Want some help, Fran?” He said her name like a song almost, smooth.

  Francesca didn’t like how he was treated like a child. Or maybe it was something else. “I would never turn down help even if it’s from a stuttering, ugly boy.”

  Timmy just smiled and got another pitchfork off the wall. “If you plan to offend me, Fran, you will have to come up with something better. I have heard it all.” He shrugged. "You’ll like it here Francesca, and one day you will feel like this is home.”

  THE KITCHEN WAS TOASTY and warm as Katrina baked a cake. Too bad her mind wasn't entirely on the cake. The girls still didn't know she was half deaf and it was bothering her. They would talk and turn their head away or mutter, but it was difficult for Katrina to read their lips or overhear them. She was tired of hiding it from them but didn’t know how to tell them. In the past, people had just known she was deaf.

  When Katrina Francesca to bring her the flour, Francesca dropped the full bowl of flour on the floor. Unsure if it was an accident, Katrina asked, "Francesca, why did you do that?" Glass and flour covered the floor. "That is wasteful."

  Francesca glared at her. "You don't care a wit what I say. Why do you ignore what I have to say?" She looked hurt before she covered it with anger. "Why?"

  Katrina realized her mistake. She should have told them sooner. "It's not that I ignore you, dear. It's..." She stopped. How did she tell them she was deaf?

  Just then Sara walked in, giving Francesca a smug look. "She's deaf as a post."

  Katrina saw Francesca look shocked and hurt.

  Carlissa walked in, looking confused.

  Katrina sighed. "No, I am not. I am half deaf." She bit her lip. "I was born not hearing in most of my right ear and then lost some of it in my left ear. I can still hear." She sighed. "That's why I miss what you say sometimes, Fran. I can't read your lips when you look away or mutter." She paused. "I should have told you sooner, I'm sorry about that, my sweeties."

  Francesca just gave her a shrug. "I just didn't know. I thought you didn't like me or something."

  Katrina took her in her arms. "No, it’s not that at all. I like you a lot, my dear." She looked at both of them. "I like all of you." This was the first time she had held Francesca.

  Francesca pulled away to look up at her. "That is why you sign, right?"

  She nodde
d and looked at Sara. "How did you know I was deaf?"

  Sara muttered, "I heard you and Izzy talking."

  "Back home, the deaf people didn't know how to get out of the way of the matrons and men. They would get hit more often because of it." Carlissa stated like it was the truth. "They were dummies, so they got beat more."

  Katrina bent down to her level and took a chance to take the small child in her arms. "No one will hit you here, ever. Deaf people are not dumb, they are just different. No one deserves to get hit. Ever. Will you forgive me for not telling you, Carly?"

  She nodded. She didn't relax in her arms, but she stayed there. Katrina picked her up, settling her on the counter. She was still too thin. "Well, at least there is no real secret between us."

  Francesca nodded. "Will you teach us sign language?"

  Katrina wasn't sure she wanted to. She signed with Andrew alone. "Sure. Can you read and write, Fran?"

  Francesca nodded. "Not well, but I had a friend in the daytime learn me."

  Katrina flinched. She knew what that meant. She covered it, or she hoped she did. "Good, then it shouldn't be too hard to pick up," she told her. She looked to Sara, "Can you read?"

  Sara shook her head.

  "Well, we can work on both together, how about that?" she said cheerfully.

  Carlissa tugged on Katrina's sleeve. "I can read."

  Katrina didn't believe her for a second but smiled, "Oh, can you now? We can work on it then."

  Carlissa nodded.

  As they were cleaning up the mess, Katrina told the girls how they could get her attention when she didn't hear them. They all came up with their own ideas. She didn't mind that her daughters were aware now. It was a relief, but would they tell the entire town?

  Chapter 8