by JL Curtis
Jesse slumped in the wheelchair. “Guess it’s a good thing I was raised on a ranch. By the time this is over, I won’t have any modesty left, or anything to be modest about,” she said with a sigh.
Amber laughed. “Wait until you have a baby. That is embarrassing. Trust me, I know. Everybody and their brother is looking up there and commenting.”
Jesse mumbled to herself, “Oh joy.”
Pushing Jesse into a treatment cube, Amber helped her onto the table and helped her get the sweat pants off, then started sawing the cast off in pieces. As the last piece came off, Doc Fischer came in and Jesse reflexively covered her crotch, even though she was wearing panties.
Fischer noticed and laughed. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type. You’re thirty years too young and married. Now, let’s get you fitted and down to PT.”
With Hawthorne’s help, Jesse was fitted with the removable cast, marking the Velcro straps for tension that he wanted maintained. When they finished, Fischer said, “Okay, you can only take this off to sleep or bathe. No –and I repeat— no walking without it on, not even to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Do you understand?”
Cowed, Jesse said quietly, “Yes, sir.”
“And stop scratching. You look like you had a damn cat inside the cast.”
“But it itches!” Jesse responded.
“I don’t care. Get some skin cream and use that once a day, but stop scratching!”
“Yes, sir.”
Grabbing the wheelchair, doc dropped the case file in her lap and pushed her out of the treatment cube as he said to the corpsman, “Good job, Hawthorne. Now go do something productive.”
Hawthorne smiled as she said, “Yes, sir! Good luck, Mrs. Miller.”
Jesse smiled back. “Thank you, Amber.”
Doc Fischer pushed Jesse down another hallway and into a physical therapy room that looked more like a gym, filled with Marines in various stages of rehab. Looking around, he finally spotted the person he needed in an office off to the side. Pushing Jesse over to the open office door, he picked up the case file and slapped it down on the desk, startling the hulking figure in khakis hunched over his computer. “Chief, got another one for ya. Chief, meet Mrs. Miller. Y’all have fun.” With that, Fisher spun on his heel and left.
The man turned around and Jesse didn’t know what to do or say. He was bald, scarred and big, maybe as big as Trey, she thought. “Well, who do we have here?” he asked in a surprisingly soft voice. “By the way, I’m Chief Holt. For my sins I have to work with the doc and I think he’s finally lost it. You should be in regular PT, not here.” He picked up her chart, flipped efficiently through it, noting the doc’s orders and suggestions. He looked up a couple of times, as if measuring Jesse. “Or maybe not. Shot five times? Damn, who did you piss off?”
Jesse looked at him. “Chief, I was the target of a home invasion, our ranch hand and ranch foreman’s wife were both killed. It was a cartel kill team after my grandpa along with all of us.”
“Sumbitch!”
“Between the three of us, we got three of them, but that’s really neither here nor there. I need to get better for my hubby, who is getting ready for deployment. I don’t know shit about the military, and I’m not in a real good mood right now, so I’m sorry if I insult you. I don’t mean to do it, okay?” Jesse said.
The chief’s scar tissue pulled into what Jesse finally realized was a grin, as a chuckle escaped him. “Maybe the doc was right, you do belong here. Looks like they had you on a pretty aggressive rehab plan, but I want to check you out for myself.” Getting up, he towered over her as he casually pushed her out into the main rehab area. “Miller, Miller- Sergeant Aaron Miller your hubby?”
Jesse craned her head and looked up at the Chief. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
The chief laughed out loud. “Oh, I’ve heard all about you. Miller couldn’t do anything but talk about you while he was here. Where is he? Afraid to come back in here?”
Jesse smiled at that. “He had some training to do this morning, he dropped me off, and is supposed to be back at ten to get me.”
The chief picked up what looked like a football helmet, minus the face guard, and Jesse groaned, “Not again.”
The chief replied, “Yep, again. I don’t want you hitting your head while we’re doing the assessment. Now let’s get you up after you put the headgear on.”
With a sigh, Jesse strapped the hated helmet on, and with the chief’s help, got up and stood between the parallel bars.
After watching her walk and making notes, he ran her though balance exercises, grip strength, and finally measurements on her shoulder for range of motion and rotation. He loosened the cast and had Jesse try to bend the knee, but she couldn’t. By the time he was done, Jesse was leaking tears and cursing under her breath. Finally, the chief put her back in the wheelchair and pushed her back to his office. After making more notes, he finally looked up. “Oh, sorry. You can take the helmet off now. Okay, what is your schedule out here, Mrs. Miller?”
“Schedule?”
“What’s your availability to come in for rehab? How many days a week and what times?” he asked.
“Oh, whenever you can fit me in. Other than letting the dog out, I have no schedule. I can’t drive. Well, with this one maybe I can, but I’m dependent on others to get me around,” Jesse replied.
Chief Holt leaned back. “How about eight Monday, Wednesday and Friday? That way you can get a ride in with your hubby and we can get you back home if you don’t live too far.”
Jesse shrugged. “I guess that will work. We live just off base.”
Glancing at his watch, the chief said, “Okay, Miller should be showing up pretty quick, so let’s get you back out front. You can actually take baths now, but make sure somebody can help you in and out of the tub.”
Jesse replied, “Oh I will, trust me. I don’t want to fall and break something else!”
Punching Cows
The old man heard a truck and trailer pull into the yard behind the house. He peered out the kitchen window, gun in hand, seeing Eddie Guilfoile’s pickup and trailer he relaxed, holstered his pistol and poured another cup of coffee. Taking it out the back, Yogi at his heels, he met Eddie at the back of the trailer. “Morning, Eddie. I appreciate your coming up to help out today, but you might want to go back home. The cartels made another try at me two days ago.”
Eddie took the cup of coffee gratefully. “Thanks, Mr. Cronin, but I really need to work Buck with some big cows and get him acclimatized to working beeves, ‘stead of just chasing a heifer around the pen at home. I’ll stick around if you don’t mind. It ain’t like we haven’t been through this before, right?”
The old man chuckled. “Okay, I appreciate it Eddie. Buck will get a workout today. We’ve gotta move fifty head about three miles to another pasture. We’ve got a bell cow, but some of these longhorns get a tad ornery about moving.”
Eddie opened the back of the trailer and eased a sixteen-hand buckskin out of the trailer, led him to the corner of the barn and tied him off there. Felix pulled into the yard and Ricky came out of the bunkhouse sticking his gloves in his back pocket. “Morning Senor John, Mister Eddie.” He looked over at his dad. “Daddy, which horse do you want today?”
Felix nodded to the old man and Eddie. “I think the mare, she hasn’t been ridden in a while Ricky.”
The old man said, “Okay, coffee’s on. Let’s get this planned out and we’ll saddle up and get to it. Yogi, come!”
Yogi appeared from around the corner of the house and went to Felix then Ricky and Eddie for some petting and followed the men into the house. The old man poured coffee for everyone, gave Eddie a refill and pointed to the map on the table. “Okay, here’s the plan. Ricky checked the fence on the old Smith place the last couple of days, and it’s good, right Ricky?”
Ricky nodded and the old man continued, “We’re going to do a gather here,” he said, pointing at the north forty. “Drive them out this gate, t
hen south between the pastures till we cross the creek.” Tapping the map, he said, “Once we cross the creek, we’ll swing them west, and it’s about a mile to the new pasture. Ricky, do you think you can ride point today?”
Ricky beamed with pride. “Si Senor. I am ready!”
He looked at Eddie and Felix. “Okay, we’ll alternate swings and drag.” Pulling radios out of the charger, he handed one to each man. “We’ll use channel five. Everybody will go armed rifles and pistols both. Eddie, you want a pistol to carry?”
Eddie shook his head. “No, sir. I’ll stick with my little twenty-two. I got my ax too, so I’m good to go.”
Felix snapped his fingers. “Almost forgot, Olivia packed us lunches. Remind me to get them out of the truck.”
The old man finished saddling Diablo and tied him to the corral fence as Felix packed the lunches into a saddlebag Ricky had brought him. Ricky asked, “Senor, do you want a pair of bags?”
The old man nodded. “Yep, we’ll load one with water, and I want everybody carrying one bottle minimum with them.” Ricky ran back to the barn as the old man looked for Yogi. This was going to be Yogi’s first time really in the field with more than one cow, and the old man was just a bit nervous. Yogi was still a young dog, and he wasn’t sure how Yogi would hold up or how he would react to that many cows all together. Shit, I should have thought of that before. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Yogi will either work out, or I’ll have to bring him home.
As the sun peeked over the horizon the old man said, “Okay, mount up and let’s get this show on the road.” He untied Diablo and taking a good grip, got quickly into the saddle. Diablo humped his back and thought about maybe bucking, but the old man held him on a tight rein as he guided him out of the yard. Ricky led the way, a Glock strapped on his hip, followed by Felix with his 686 on his hip. Eddie rode with his little .22 sitting across the saddle bow, and the old man made sure his 1911 was seated in the thumb break holster and the retention was snapped.
A half hour later, they got to the pasture and the old man said, “Okay, Ricky, how do you want to do this?”
Ricky looked startled, thought for a second and said, “Why don’t Daddy and I maintain here at the gate. Daddy can take the off side, I’ll take the gate side and you and Mister Eddie can pop them out to us.”
The old man nodded. “Works. Eddie, remember we’re looking for a dun with a white face, she’s the bell cow. If you get on her, drive her up here first.”
Eddie replied, “Will do.” Turning Buck, he headed up the east side of the creek. The old man put Diablo through the creek and headed up the fence line, intending to go all the way north before he cut back and started pushing the cows south.
Three hours later, the old man finally popped the last brindle steer out of the creek bottom and got him up to the gate area. Cussing the brindle, he brought Diablo to a halt, dismounted and rubbed his butt thinking, Damn, I’m getting to old for this shit. Either that or I need to spend more time in the saddle. Trailing the reins, he told Yogi to stay, pulled bottles of water out of the saddlebag and walked over to Eddie and Felix, “Got a count?” he asked as he handed them water.
Felix nodded. “I got forty-nine and that brindle makes fifty, that should be all the cows in this pasture.”
The old man said, “Yep that should be it. I swear, I’m never going to keep another damn brindle anything! That sumbitch got himself backed in between the bushes and I couldn’t get a loop on him. Yogi got in there and nipped at his back legs, but the steer couldn’t kick him, and couldn’t hook him the way he was backed in there. The pup nipped him a couple of more times, and that old brindle came out a little bit each time. I thought that old steer was going to get Yogi a couple of times, before I finally got a loop on him and drug him out of the bottoms. Yogi earned himself a chew today.”
Eddie laughed. “Yeah, trial by fire for him isn’t it?”
The old man replied, “Oh yeah. How’d Buck do?”
Eddie shrugged. “I’m here, he’s here, and we’re both in one piece. But it was a bit touchy for a while. He got a little too close on one that was hunkered down in the brush, and almost got hooked. But I think ol’ Buck learned that lesson pretty quickly.”
Looking around the old man yelled over to Ricky, “You ready?”
Ricky waved. “When you are, Senor!”
The old man muttered, “Damn kids. All energy and no brains.”
Felix and Eddie both laughed and Felix said, “You let him decide, so he took the easy part. At least his horse is gonna be fresh.”
The old man groaned. “Okay, let’s get this done. Lemme get back on Diablo and we’ll start moving them.” Back in the saddle, he yelled to Ricky, “Open the gate and make sure the bell cow goes out first!”
Ricky waved and unlatched the gate, swinging it open and letting the dun lead them out, while Felix, Eddie and the old man popped the occasional steer that tried to turn back with a loop of the lasso. Yogi even got into the act, barking at the occasional drifting steer and keeping them moving through the gate.
Everything went pretty well until they got to the creek, and the cows wanted to graze. Ricky dropped a loop over the bell cow and dragged her out of the creek and popped her on the flank to get her started down the next lane as Felix turned them and Eddie and the old man brought up the drag. The brindle steer tried to turn back, but Diablo took it as a personal insult and went into cutting horse mode, almost unseating the old man. The steer finally gave up and followed the rest of the cows through the creek and down the lane.
Three hours later, the old man finally closed and locked the gate behind the last steer as it trotted into the new pasture. Yogi was sprawled in the dirt panting, and even Diablo was showing some fatigue.
They walked their horses slowly back to the creek, letting them drink a little bit, and stretching and cussing while the horses cropped a little of the fresh grass. The sun was setting when they finally made it back to the corral, with Yogi riding in the old man’s arms the last mile. They stripped off the tack and let the horses into the corral watching them carefully so they didn’t drink too much. Ricky went into the barn and came back with brushes and everyone brushed their horses down. Yogi just sat by the back steps and panted, watching but not moving very much at all.
When the horses had been brushed, their feed bags filled and Buck loaded back into the trailer, they trooped into the kitchen and the old man made a pot of coffee. Passing cups around, the old man said, “Thank God, that’s over. We won’t have to do that for another three months! I need to get my ass on a horse a little more regularly.”
Felix ruefully rubbed his backside, saying, “You and me both!”
Ricky and Eddie laughed and they moved over to the table. Looking at the map, the old man said, “That went pretty well, Ricky I think you did a good job today, but did you see anything you would have done differently?”
Ricky looked at the three of them and said, “I should have taken a turn at swing and drag. That really wasn’t fair of me to just ride point. I could have changed off and still done the turn and the new pasture.”
After twenty minutes of discussions, the old man wrapped it up by saying, “For the next fandango, that damn brindle is going to be the centerpiece. Felix, when you see the Ramos brothers would you give them a head’s up that I’ll need them to butcher it?”
Felix nodded. “I can do that. ‘Bout three months?”
The old man replied, “Yeah, that’s about right. Eddie can we talk for a couple of minutes about the colts?”
Felix and Ricky said their goodbyes and left to get Ricky a home-cooked meal. Eddie leaned on the center island, then started laughing. The old man looked where Eddie was pointing and he started laughing, too. Yogi was sound asleep, his head on his paws and his nose against the feed bowl. They spent another half hour going over plans for at least two colts with Eddie to break them and work them up. Eddie turned down another cup of coffee, saying he wanted to head home and Iris woul
d be waiting supper on him. The old man walked out back, shook Eddie’s hand. As Eddie drove off, the old man made a quick sweep before returning to the house.
The old man ate a quick bowl of chili and cornbread, and then eased back to the bedroom. Using the boot tree to get his boots off, he slowly stripped and got as hot a shower as he could stand. Damn, I’m wore slap out. Next quarter, I think we’ll hire in some help. Jesse’d run it- That snapped the old man back to reality, Jesse wasn’t here and wouldn’t be for who knew how long. She had a husband and a life now. Dammit.
Wives and Other Issues
Darlene picked Jesse up at 6:00PM, grumbling about trying to get schedules worked out with the Pacific Views Event Center for their meetings. On the drive over Darlene asked, “So you are an accountant?”
Jesse sighed. “Yeah, for my sins, I are one. Why?”
“Well, we don’t actually have a treasurer right now, and we could use some help with the books.”
Jesse said, “And I suppose this is an unpaid position, right?”
Darlene shrugged. “Yeah, but if you want to get paid, Marl and I could use some help too.”
“Doing what? I mean other than accounting, ranching and being a deputy sheriff-”
Darlene replied, “Marl and I have a little jewelry business that we’ve been doing for about fifteen years now. We sell stuff on-line, and in a couple of jewelry stores. We keep our own books, but I’d really like to get somebody that knows what they’re doing to look them over. We could even pay you.”
Jesse said, “Okay, anything to stave off boredom.” Darlene wheeled into the front drive of the club, dropped Jesse off and went to find parking. Coming back, she escorted Jesse to one of the smaller conference rooms and introduced her to the few other wives that were already there.
Marlene came in with what Jesse took to be a deputy sheriff, until she saw the collar devices and then figured he was a captain. Two other men in different police uniforms followed him and Marlene brought them over to the table. “Sheriff, chiefs, meet deputy sheriff. Y’all have fun with that cop talk,” she said, laughed and walked off.