Midnight Lady

by Jenny Oldfield

  “Which leaves the three broncs!” Lisa dashed to the door to intercept her mom. They still had no firm plan.

  “Lisa!” There was a knock, a couple of seconds’ pause, then the door opened. Bonnie peered into the room, a dish towel tucked into the waistband of her jeans, bringing with her from the diner the smell of bacon cooking and coffee percolating. “There’s a problem at Donna Rose’s place. The horses got out in the middle of the night. TJ and Jesse are asking for help for a search party. I said I was sure you and Kirstie would be willing …” She stopped short and stared at Kirstie. “Say, how did you get that bruise on your face?”

  Kirstie’s hand shot up to her cheek.

  Then, puzzled and suspicious, Bonnie bent to pick up Lisa’s blue padded jacket from the floor. She rubbed at a black mark, sniffed it, and frowned. “And where did this creosote paint stain come from?”

  There was dead silence. Down in the parking lot, a car pulled up and new customers entered the diner.

  Bonnie gazed in horror from one to the other. “Oh my gosh!” she whispered. Then her mouth snapped shut. She turned, went right down to the phone, and called Sandy Scott.

  “And the worst of it is, you planned to lie!” Kirstie’s mom was white with anger. She’d driven over to San Luis to collect her daughter and taken her home in silence.

  Kirstie slumped into a seat at the kitchen table. Outside, the sun was shining, the sky was blue as usual. But everything else had changed utterly.

  “And before you say it, Kirstie, keeping quiet, letting Donna think her horses had escaped by accident is the same as telling a lie!”

  “I know.” She was brokenhearted. The look she’d dreaded, the one that said, “You let me down big time!” was etched into her mom’s face. “I’m sorry!”

  “It’s not enough!”

  “I know.”

  “How could you do it? To me, to all of us!” Sandy didn’t go into detail.

  “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted to stop Midnight Lady ending up as dog meat!”

  “And this is what comes of letting your heart rule your head, Kirstie!” Sandy flung her hat onto the table and turned her back. “What happens? It gets out of hand and leaves Donna with no working horses on her entire ranch. So how is she gonna work her cattle and keep her business going? She has wages to pay and three men who can’t get on and do the work she’s hiring them for!”

  “Mom, I’m sorry!” Kirstie dragged herself to her feet without caring about the tears that were running down her cheeks. “Can’t we lend Donna some of our horses until they track hers down?”

  Sandy looked over her shoulder. “Say that again.”

  “We could trailer three horses over to Circle R for them to use. That way Donna gets to keep her ranch running. And I could say sorry face to face!”

  Whatever it cost, that was what she needed to do right now, more than anything else in the world.

  “This doesn’t mean you’re not still grounded for the rest of the vacation!” Sandy warned.

  She’d said the plan was a fair one, that it went some way toward making amends for what Kirstie and Lisa had done. So they’d loaded Johnny Mohawk, Silver Flash, and Yukon into the trailer, left Hadley and Charlie in charge of the guests for the morning, and by ten thirty they were driving to Renegade.

  “I know.” Kirstie’s reply was flat and monosyllabic. With every bend and dip in the road, she felt she would be sick.

  “And Donna could still call the sheriff and press charges,” her mom pointed out. “She could throw the book at you if she wanted!” And it would be no more than they deserved, she implied. There was no point turning to her, Sandy, for sympathy or help. Kirstie and Lisa would just have to take the consequences for their own crazy, half-baked plan.

  Lisa, too, was grounded. Bonnie had yelled a lot and called her a “foolish girl!” She’d gotten on the phone with her own father, Lennie Goodman, to arrange for Lisa to stay with him for a few days. Sending Lisa up to her grandfather’s at Lone Elm Trailer Park was meant to keep her out of trouble until the Circle R horses had been tracked down and recaptured.

  “Meanwhile, we’re minus three of our best horses at Half Moon Ranch and Hadley’s having to reorganize mounts for some of the guests, and all because …” Sandy broke off and sat tight-lipped, her hands gripping the steering wheel.

  Across the lights from them, pulling out of the abattoir gates in an empty pickup, was Leon Franks. He didn’t notice them, but the sight of his thin, bony face was enough to remind Kirstie what all this had been about. And why had he been to Arnie Ash’s place? Had Midnight Lady been found and taken there to be destroyed as planned? Her blood ran cold at the thought and she shrank back into her seat.

  Sandy eased across the road and soon turned off for Circle R. Kirstie recognized the sudden expanse of flat prairie land, the tiny ranch at the end of the straight track, growing bigger as they approached. She scanned the landscape for signs of the runaway horses, saw only black-and-white cattle raising their heads and looking blankly after the trailer as it trundled by.

  They were at the ranch house before she had time to gather her thoughts and get over the idea that the battle to save poor Midnight Lady might already be lost. The door was closed, the porch empty except for the chilies and the antlers. The whole place had a sad and slightly run-down air, she noticed for the first time.

  Sandy hadn’t said a word since breaking off her sentence at the Renegade traffic lights. Now she left the cab and slammed the door, taking a deep breath before she made her way onto the porch to knock at the door.

  Kirstie attempted to swallow. Her mouth and throat hurt with the effort of trying not to cry.

  No answer. Sandy tried again.

  This time the door opened. Donna had obviously looked through a window, recognized her visitors, and been unable to understand why they and the trailer were here. She held the door half-closed, peering suspiciously around the edge. Kirstie watched her mom’s explanation, the shrugs, the apologetic gestures, the earnest conversation. Gradually Donna opened the door wider and she came out onto the porch.

  “No, really!” the ranch owner was saying, shaking her head, glancing at Kirstie still sitting in the passenger seat. “There’s no need. It’s a great gesture on your part, but I couldn’t accept … It really isn’t necessary!”

  Slowly Kirstie slid out of the passenger seat. The ten feet of dusty ground she had to cross to the porch felt like miles. Her feet were lead weights on the end of weak, trembling stalks.

  “One of the horses has already come back of her own free will,” Donna was telling Sandy.

  Which one? Not Midnight Lady, please!

  “Wildflower, one of the ranch horses,” Donna went on.

  Kirstie breathed again. Leon Franks hadn’t taken Midnight Lady to the abattoir after all.

  “She just came back nice and gentle in her own good time,” Donna said. “Leon expects some of the others to do the same before the day’s out.”

  “Use our horses anyway!” Sandy insisted. “Even if the others do come back, they’ll need resting. Johnny Mohawk, Yukon, and Silver Flash are all fresh and ready to do some work.” Behind her back, Sandy gestured for Kirstie to hurry and join her. “Anyhow, Kirstie has something she wants to say,” she told Donna.

  Kirstie dragged her gaze from the step where she’d planted her feet, across the worn boards of the old porch, until it made contact with Donna’s fancy brown and cream boots, her blue jeans, her silver buckle, all the way up to her face. Then she blinked in surprise. The face wore no makeup, the streaked blonde hair was uncombed. It was Donna Rose without the mask; tired, middle-aged lady with a lost look in her red-rimmed eyes.

  “I’m real sorry!” Kirstie whispered.

  Donna studied her face. “Yes.” She nodded, then looked even more lost than before, murmuring, “I just wish I understood!”

  “I’ll help find the horses!” Kirstie promised, desperate to make things right. “I know which wa
y they headed. I can tell TJ and Jesse where they should look!’

  “That would be good.” Donna nodded vaguely, gazing out across the plain as if expecting to see the lost horses trotting obediently toward home. Then she turned to Sandy and gave her a weak smile. “Don’t feel too bad. Your girl evidently had a reason for doing what she did.”

  This got worse and worse. Kirstie hadn’t expected the sad resignation in Donna’s manner; anger would have been easier to deal with. “I didn’t mean to let all the horses escape!” she tried to explain. “Only Midnight Lady!”

  “Ah yes, the gray mare.” With a shake of her head and another sad smile, the old lady turned back to Sandy. “I appreciate your wanting to help me with the loan of these horses,” she told her. “But it may not make any difference in the long run.”

  “How come?” A determined Sandy went to the trailer to begin unloading Silver Flash.

  Donna followed and helped to lower the ramp. Inside the trailer, the horses whinnied and moved restlessly about the confined space. “What I mean is, this latest—incident—” Donna glanced at Kirstie, “is only the last in a long line of problems. Ever since Don died I’ve had to struggle to keep things going. He went suddenly, see, and no way was I prepared for running the ranch single-handed. It had always been the two of us; Don and Donna Rose of Circle R. Him working the cows and running that side of things, me keeping house. Old-fashioned maybe, but that’s the way we liked it.”

  “It’s tough doing things single-handed,” Sandy agreed. She went into the trailer and led Silver Flash down the ramp. “You have to give it everything you’ve got.”

  “It’s kinda late in life for me to learn how to do that.” Donna stood to one side. “My answer was to hire a manager, which I couldn’t really afford, but it seemed the only way to stay on here.”

  Sandy handed over the big sorrel with the white blaze to Kirstie and went back inside. “But then, good hired help is hard to find.”

  “I’ve had three managers in as many years,” Donna admitted. “This time, I had to go out of the state as far as Wyoming to find Leon. And the problems don’t end there. Money for feed; that’s my biggest headache. And the ranch is pretty run-down; there’s more money needed to put the fences in order, for instance. Not to mention work on the house and barn.” She turned to Kirstie, who had tethered Silver Flash and come back to collect Yukon from her mom. “So in a way, your crazy little plan of last night helped me come to a decision.”

  Kirstie frowned. “It did?”

  “Yeah. It made me realize it may all be too much for me to handle. Like, one last straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  Sandy came out of the trailer with Johnny Mohawk, a pretty black half-Arabian and the final horse that she wanted to lend to Donna. She stopped on the ramp, sensing an important announcement.

  The lady ranch owner looked away into the distance once more. “Too many problems, not enough money…and then, suddenly, out of the blue just before you arrived, an offer to buy the place! Add it all up and what do you get?”

  “Someone wants to buy Circle R from you?” Kirstie repeated. Just when lending Donna the three horses was helping to salve her guilty conscience, she was hearing the news that she planned to give up. Now Kirstie felt really, really terrible again.

  “What are you saying?” Before Donna could answer Kirstie’s worried question, Sandy came down the ramp, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “I’ve had an offer!” Donna repeated, her lips quivering, her eyes filling with tears. “Not a great offer, it’s true. But it’s a cash deal; money on the nail.”

  “Have you accepted?” Sandy asked gently.

  “Not yet. I told them I’ll think about it.”

  “Told who?” Kirstie demanded, looking Donna Rose full in the face for the first time that visit. “Who made the offer? Who put in the bid to buy Circle R?”

  7

  “Arnie Ash called me. I just got off the phone five minutes before you pulled into my yard.” Donna seemed to be trying hard to get her muddled thoughts in order. “Well, I knew he was loaded; the slaughterhouse does good business. But I never knew he had that kind of dough. A cash offer!” she repeated.

  Kirstie frowned suspiciously. “Why does he want to buy the ranch?”

  “Why not?” Sandy seemed to think it was a reasonable idea. “It would be a good thing for him if he went into cattle ranching, raised his own cows and so on. There could be a lot of extra profit in it for him.”

  “Especially if he modernizes,” Donna conceded. “He’d keep a manager in place who would bring everything up to date.”

  “Manager?” Kirstie echoed. Her brain ticked over faster than before.

  “Sure. He said he hoped Leon would stay on after I sold up. I haven’t had the chance to talk to Leon yet …”

  “That figures!” Tick-tick-tick. Leon Franks had been driving out of the abattoir as they went past. He’d been looking pretty smug. So that was what he’d been up to, running to Arnie Ash to tell him about Donna’s problems, encouraging the slaughterhouse owner to move in on the widow with a cheap offer. Yeah, of course!

  “Kirstie, don’t interrupt!” Sandy said sharply.

  “Sorry.” She frowned down at her feet. Now was not the time to explain her theory. But she thought it through. “Hit the old lady while she’s down!” Leon must have told Arnie Ash. “She can’t handle this latest crisis of her horses running off. Right now she’d listen to any offer, even if it was peanuts!” Arnie Ash would get the best deal of his life. He’d be grateful to Leon for the inside information. Leon would probably be rewarded with a good raise in pay.

  Bad news. Terrible news, in fact. Made all the more real by the fact that Leon’s pickup was approaching the ranch house right now. He sped over the bumpy track and swung into the yard with a squeal of brakes, slamming the door and giving Sandy and Kirstie a long, hard look.

  “Why the trailer?” he demanded.

  “We loaned Donna some horses until she gets hers back.” Sandy’s voice sounded defensive.

  “Who asked you to do that?” Glancing angrily at Johnny Mohawk, Silver Flash, and Yukon, Leon lifted his leather chaps out of the back of the truck and began to tie them on.

  “No one asked us. We thought it was the least we could do.” Realizing that they’d outstayed their welcome, Sandy headed for the trailer. “Keep them as long as you need to,” she told Donna.

  “You gotta realize these aren’t real ranch horses,” Leon cut across Sandy and Kirstie’s path to warn his boss. “They’re used to dude ranch work, carrying amateur riders out on the trail, not professional cowboys cutting out and roping cattle.”

  Kirstie stopped in her tracks. “Hey. Johnny Mohawk is as good as any cutter or roper on Circle R!”

  Leon sneered at her. “In your dreams!” He went across to the dainty black horse, who backed away at his sudden approach. He laughed outright at Johnny’s slim build. “Are you saying this weakling can hold his ground against a fifteen-hundred-pound steer, or work up enough speed to rope a calf?”

  “Sure!” Kirstie refused to back down. “Arabians are pretty fast, and they’re known for having a lot more stamina than a quarter horse.” Her heart was thumping with a mixture of anger and anxiety. It didn’t take much imagination to guess how Leon Franks would treat the Half Moon Ranch horses while they were here. She saw the cowboy’s spurs glint in the sun and watched Johnny Mohawk pull back to the limit of his halter rope.

  “C’mon, Kirstie,” her mom said, looking worried herself. She said good-bye to Donna, who had stood nervously on the porch since Leon’s arrival, as if working up enough courage to break the news of Arnie Ash’s recent offer to him.

  For another few moments, Kirstie hesitated. “How long have you got before you have to give Arnie an answer?” she murmured quietly to the elderly ranch owner. She noticed Leon Franks hovering rudely on the edge of their private conversation.

  Donna sighed and shook her head. “Not long. He said t
he offer was only good for a short while, otherwise he would put in a bid on another ranch he’s been looking at lately.”

  “But how long exactly?” Kirstie knew that an awful lot hung on Donna’s answer.

  There was the dim, distant look in her eyes, a catch in her throat as she replied. “Twenty-four hours,” she whispered. “Arnie wants a decision from me by this time tomorrow morning!”

  “TJ and Jesse just found two more of their horses!” Hadley greeted Sandy and Kirstie with good news.

  It was midday when they finally got back home, having driven the trailer along the back roads around Renegade and San Luis, searching for the missing animals. They’d looked along the banks of Horseshoe Creek, in meadows hidden behind copses of willow and aspen. Once, they’d spotted movement: a reddish brown creature stumbling through marshy ground. They’d left the trailer and tracked the animal on foot, coming across it as it drank from the creek.

  “Bovine!” Sandy had said quietly, using the jokey cowboy term.

  The cow had raised her white head, water still dripping from her blunt pink nose. The brand on her rump showed a capital R inside a circle.

  “She’s Donna’s cow, but she must have wandered off ranch property,” Sandy had decided. “C’mon, girl; yip, yip!”

  They’d spent the best part of an hour driving her out of the culvert and back onto Circle R land.

  Arriving home to Hadley’s news, Kirstie was the first out of the trailer. She followed him into the barn. “Any idea which two horses?”

  The wrangler tossed alfalfa hay into wooden feed troughs, then watched as three foals scrambled across the pen behind the barn. Their sticklike legs and heavy heads made their progress ungainly. But soon they were tucking into a good feed. “Two more ranch horses,” he reported. “A sorrel named Foxy and an appaloosa named Pilgrim.”

  “Where did they find them?” For a few seconds, the cute foals had taken Kirstie’s mind off the problem. The biggest, a black-and-white paint, was head-butting the palomino and the bay to get at the best of the hay. But then the other two ganged up to cut the paint out. In the end, they all seemed to agree there was enough for everyone and settled down to munch contentedly from the manger.