The Perfect Gift

by Mark Stewart

  THE ASCENT of the almost vertical wall of the Oasis took fifteen minutes. At the top, the riders dismounted. They grouped together for a hot coffee while the horses and the dogs took a well-earned rest.

  “The coffee smells nice,” chirped Naomi, holding her mug out.

  Trent immediately filled it.

  The temperature felt as though it had dropped causing Naomi to shiver. For warmth, she wrapped her fingers tight around the mug of hot brew.

  “It’s the coldest before the dawn. As yet the temperature has failed to increase,” explained Trent. Lifting his gaze skywards, he quickly added. “It’ll be raining soon.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “We call Trent the walking weatherman,” declared Earl.

  “Is he ever wrong?”

  “Let me think,” moaned Stanton. “He probably has been a couple of times. When I can’t remember.”

  “Out here the temperature can plummet up to seven degrees in minutes,” advised Mitch.

  Naomi shivered again. Lifting the mug to her lips, she swallowed a mouthful of coffee. For a few seconds, she relished in the warmth of the liquid sliding down her throat.

  Trent stared closely at the horizon. His gaze seemed fixed on a group of small clouds floating towards them.

  “Don’t tell me, the clouds talk to you,” giggled Naomi, digging Trent in the ribs.

  “No, they don’t talk. I have to stress it is going to rain real soon.”

  Naomi tilted her head to study the sky. “They look like harmless fluffy white clouds to me.”

  “Don’t be fooled. I predict it’s going to rain in two hours, the same as yesterday.”

  Earl stood. “Boys, mount up. It’s time to go.”

  Stanton’s family packed everything, mounting their horses inside two minutes.

  A small derelict cottage came into view after thirty minutes of riding. Beyond the cottage, Naomi saw five hundred skinny head of cattle grazing on what they could find growing in the dust. She immediately felt sorry for the beasts.

  “We came for them,” confessed Trent, pointing to the cattle.

  A man and a woman, both about Trent’s age, stepped out of the cottage. The young man held a .22 rifle in his right hand. When he recognized the faces in the group, he pointed the rifle at the ground.

  Earl dismounted his horse and strolled towards the house.

  “Trent, what’s the meaning of the posse?” questioned the woman, placing her fists on her hips. “Earl Stanton, stop right where you are, you know you’re not welcome here.”

  “Dad, let me handle this,” called Trent.

  His father nodded before walking back to his horse.

  “Mary-Lou, we need to have a short talk. The clock’s ticking.”

  “You betcha it’s ticking,” snarled Mary-Lou.

  “I’ll make the explanation short. The storm is on her way.”

  “You have five seconds to tell me the reason for your visit. If you don’t, there’s going to be a bullet in your head.”

  “Are you still holding a grudge? It’s been years.”

  “Sure am.”

  Naomi frowned. “This woman is your ex-girlfriend?”

  Trent slowly nodded.

  Mary-Lou sniffed the air, pointing a long slender finger at Naomi. The wind suddenly blew up, ruffling the countrywoman’s long blonde hair. She brushed it to one side letting the wind take charge.

  “You smell like a city chic. Take my advice, turn around go back where you came from. You don’t belong out here.”

  “How can you be so sure I’m from the city?”

  “You have the word ‘city’ written on your pretty little face.” She gave a sarcastic smirk. “City girls can’t cut it out here.”

  “Mary-Lou, enough,” growled Trent. “Where’s Roy? We’ve come for the cows.”

  “Over my dead body,” she hissed.

  “I hope it won’t come to that.”

  “Always the gentleman, Eh, Trent?” taunted Mary-Lou spitting on the ground. “Pop, get your ass out here.”

  Roy came staggering out of the cottage, leaning his drunken frame against a wooden verandah post. “Mary-Lou, shut up and get in the house. These fine people are here for the cows.”

  “You got a copy of the legal papers?”

  “There aren’t any. It’s a gentlemen’s agreement,” boasted Roy.

  “A what?” Mary-Lou snorted.

  “It’s been agreed the Stanton’s will take the cows, the house and the land for a dollar.”

  “Never,” Mary-Lou screamed. “I won’t allow it.” She snatched the rifle from Henry and pointed it at Trent.

  “Put the rifle down,” yelled Roy. “They have to take the cows before it’s too late. The trucks the bank has hired will be here tomorrow morning. They’re going to sell this place from under me for whatever they can unless everything is settled between us right now. I’d rather sell to the Stanton’s than have the bank take everything.”

  Sobbing, Mary-Lou sank to her knees. “Where are we to go?”

  “We’ve received a couple of good offers for work,” confessed Roy.

  Naomi walked over, placing her arm around Mary-Lou. She stood, giving her a mighty push. Trent scooped Naomi up in his arms before she hit the dirt.

  “Nice catch,” jeered Mary-Lou. “I remember you doing the same thing for me once.” She turned her back on the group and sprinted into the house.

  “Thanks,” said Naomi.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” replied Trent.

  “You should go talk to Mary-Lou.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I trust you,” replied Naomi.

  Trent gave her a gentle pat on the arm before marching inside the house.

  “Mary-Lou, where are you?”

  He searched the house, stopping at a closed bedroom door. He knocked like a gentleman should.

  “Enter,” whimpered a sobbing voice.

  Trent opened the door. Leaning casually against the door frame, he appeared to be refusing to enter the room.

  “Do you love the city girl?” questioned Mary-Lou.

  “Her name’s Naomi. Yes, I do.”

  “Does this mean there’s no, us?”

  Trent rolled his eyes. “There has never been anything between us. Not since you called our relationship off when we were both sixteen.”

  “Do you call it nothing when you came from the Oasis to see me for breakfast before my father made us move to this place?”

  “I have to admit I did love you more than life.”

  Mary-Lou stood square to Trent. She held her arms open. “Come here. Give me a kiss.”

  “I don’t think so,” jeered Trent, shaking his head.

  “I’ve regretted not running after you from the moment you left.”

  “It’s been a long time. I’ve grown up.”

  “I won’t give up on us until you say I do at the altar. You have to make a choice. It’s the city girl or me?”

  Trent turned his back on Mary-Lou. Marching out of the house he never looked back.

  Naomi noticed his deliberate walk. His speed didn’t falter from the door of the house to his horse.

  Mary-Lou leaned out of her window, yelling. “Trent, darling, make your mind up. It’s me or her?”

  “Dad, it’s time to go. The storm has almost arrived. Let’s get these cows home before the downpour.”

  Before whistling for the dogs to follow, Trent smiled lovingly at Naomi, tipping his wide-brimmed hat. The group turned their backs on the house, trotting off towards the herd.

  Naomi copied what the group did and brought up the rear.

  The dogs ran around barking at the cattle, helping to gather the herd in close. The cows mooed, the dogs barked, Trent, his brothers, and their father waved their wide-brimmed hats in the air, shouting. Naomi heard the occasional whip crack. Trent grinned at the new Jillaroo as she took up her position on the left flank.

  Naomi glanced at the sky. She saw the black c
louds bearing down on the group. She looked for Trent who returned a sharp nod. She faked a grin, amazed at his calmness. She saw him wave a hand in the air. Then she heard another whip crack.

  The cows were on the move.

  For a few minutes, Naomi looked lost in the fantasy world of a western movie. Boasting a grin, she felt a sudden power over the half-starved beasts.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN