Hazard Ranch

by Joan Johnston

  Nathan hadn’t been as unaware of Harry-et as he’d wanted her to think. The outline of her hips appeared in those baggy overalls every time she stretched to reach another part of the dam. He’d even caught a glimpse of her breasts once when she’d bent over to help him free a log. There was nothing the least bit attractive about what she had on. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  Suddenly, as though they’d opened a lever, the water began to rush past them into the main irrigation ditch and outward along each of the ragged channels that crisscrossed Harry’s fields.

  “It’s clear! We did it,” Harry shouted, exuberantly throwing her arms into the air and leaping up and down.

  Nathan saw the moment she started to fall. One of her galoshes was stuck in the mud, and when Harry-et started to jump, one foot was held firmly to the ground while the other left it.

  Nathan was never quite sure later how it all happened. He made a leap over some debris in an attempt to catch Harry-et before she fell, but tripped as he took off. Thus, when he caught her, they were both on their way down. He twisted his body to take the brunt of the fall, only his boot was caught on something and his ankle twisted instead of coming free. They both hit the ground with a resounding “Ooomph!”

  Neither moved for several seconds.

  Then Harry untangled herself from the pile of arms and legs and came up on her knees beside Nathan, who still hadn’t moved. “Nathan? Are you all right? Say something.”

  Nathan said a four-letter word.

  “Are you hurt?”

  Nathan said another four-letter word.

  “You are hurt,” Harry deduced. “Don’t move. Let me see if anything’s broken.”

  “My shoulder landed on a rock,” he said between clenched teeth as he tried to rise. “Probably just bruised. And my ankle got twisted.”

  “Don’t move,” Harry ordered. “Let me check.”

  “Harry-et, I—” He sucked in a breath of air as he sat up. His right shoulder was more than bruised. Something was broken. “Help me up.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “Help…me…up,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Harry reached an arm around him and tried lifting his right arm to her shoulder. He grunted.

  “Try the other side,” he told her.

  She slipped his other arm over her shoulder and used the strength in her legs to maneuver them both upright.

  Nathan tried putting weight on his left leg. It crumpled under him. “Help me get to that boulder over there.”

  Harry supported Nathan as best she could, and with a sort of hopping, hobbling movement that left him gasping, they made it. She settled Nathan on the knee-high stone and stood back, facing him with her hands on her hips. “I’ll go get the pickup. You need a doctor.”

  “I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute to rest.” A moment later he tried to stand on his own. The pain forced him back down.

  “Are you going to admit you need some help? Or do I have to leave you sitting here for the next few weeks until somebody notices you’re missing?”

  “Go get the pickup,” he snarled.

  “Why thank you, Mr. Hazard, for that most brilliant suggestion. I wish I’d thought of it myself.” She sashayed away, hips swaying. Her attempt at nonchalance was a sham. As soon as she was out of sight, she started running and sprinted all the way to her cabin. She tore through the kitchen, hunting for the truck keys, then remembered she’d left them in the ignition. She headed the pickup straight back across the fields, skidding the last ten feet to a stop in front of Nathan.

  “You just took out half a field of hay,” Nathan said.

  “I’m afraid I was in too much of a hurry to notice,” she retorted. She forced herself to slow down and be gentle with Nathan as she helped him into the truck, but even so, the tightness of his jaw and his silence attested to his pain.

  “Where’s the closest hospital?” she demanded as she scooted behind the wheel.

  “Take me home.”

  “Nathan, you need—”

  “Take me home. Or let me out and I’ll walk there myself.”

  “You need a doctor.”

  “I’ll call Doc Witley when I get home.”

  It didn’t occur to her to ask whether Doc Witley practiced on humans. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he turned out to be the local vet.

  Several hired hands came running when Harry drove into Nathan’s yard, honking her horn like crazy. They helped her get Nathan upstairs to the loft bedroom of his A-frame home. Harry’s mouth kept dropping open as she took in her surroundings. She had never suspected Nathan’s home would be so beautiful.

  The pine logs of which the house was constructed had been left as natural as the day they were cut. The spacious living room was decorated in pale earth tones, accented with navy. A tan corduroy couch and chair faced a central copper-hooded fireplace. Nearby stood an ancient wooden rocker. The living room had a cathedral ceiling, with large windows all around, so that no matter where you looked there was a breathtaking view: the sparkling Boulder River bounded by cottonwoods to the east; the Crazy Mountains to the north; the snowcapped Absarokas to the south; and to the east, pasture land dotted with ewes and their twin lambs.

  If this was an example of how Nathan Hazard designed homes, the world had truly lost someone special when he’d given up his dream.

  If she’d had any doubt at all about his eye for beauty, the art and artifacts on display in his home laid them fully to rest. Bronze sculptures and oil and watercolor paintings by famous western artists graced his living room. Harry indulged her curiosity by carefully examining each and every one during the time Doc Witley spent with Nathan.

  When the vet finally came downstairs, he found Harry waiting for him.

  “How is he?”

  “Nothing’s broke.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Dislocated his shoulder, though. Put that to rights. Couldn’t do much with his ankle. Bad sprain. May have cracked the bone. Can’t tell without an X-ray and don’t think he’ll hold still for one. Best medicine for that boy is rest. Keep him off his feet and don’t let him use that shoulder for a few weeks. I’ll be going now. Have a prize heifer calving over at the Truman place. You mind my words now. Keep that boy down.” He gave her a bottle of pills. “Give him a couple of these every four hours if he’s in pain.”

  Harry looked down to find the vet had handed her a bottle of aspirin. She showed him out the door and turned to stare up toward the loft bedroom that could be seen from the living room. Nathan must have heard what the doctor had said. It shouldn’t be too hard to get him to cooperate.

  Harry looked around and realized Nathan’s housekeeper hadn’t made an appearance. Maybe Katoya was out shopping. If so, Harry would have to stick around until she got back. Nathan was in no shape to be left alone.

  Nathan’s bedroom was done in darker colors—rust, burnt sienna and black. The four-poster bed was huge and flanked by a tall, equally old-fashioned piece of furniture that Harry assumed must hold his clothes. The other side of the room was taken up by a rolltop desk. The oak floor was mantled with a bearskin rug. Of course there were windows, wide, clear windows that brought the sky and the mountains inside.

  Nathan had pillows piled behind his shoulders and an equally large number under his left foot.

  She took a step into his bedroom. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Just leave me alone. I’ll manage fine.”

  “Your home is lovely. You show a lot of promise as an architect,” she said with a halting smile.

  “It turned out all right,” he said. “As soon as it was built, I thought of a dozen things I could have done better.”

  She didn’t feel comfortable encroaching farther into his bedroom, so she leaned back against the doorway. “You’ll make all those improvements next time.”

  “A sheepman doesn’t have the leisure time to be designing houses,” he said brusquely.
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  “Actually, you’re going to have quite a bit of free time over the next couple of weeks,” she replied. “The vet gave orders for you to stay in bed. By the way, I haven’t seen your housekeeper. Do you expect her back soon?”

  “In about a month,” Nathan said. “She left right after I got home to visit her granddaughter, Sage Littlewolf, on the Blackfoot reservation up near Great Falls.”

  “Do you suppose she’d come back if she knew—”

  “Yes, she would. Which is why I have no intention of contacting her. There’s some problem with her granddaughter that needs settling. She’s gone there to settle it. I’ll manage.”

  Harry marched over to stand at Nathan’s bedside. “How do you intend to get along without any help?”

  “It’s not your problem.”

  “I’m making it my problem.”

  “Look, Harry-et, I don’t need your help—”

  “You need help,” she interrupted. “You can’t walk.”

  “I’ll use crutches.”

  “With your right arm in a sling?”

  “I’ll hop.”

  “What if you fall?”

  “I won’t.”

  “But if you do—”

  “I’ll get back up. I don’t need you here, Harry-et. I don’t want you here. I don’t think I can say it any plainer than that.”

  “I’m staying. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Hazard.” Harry turned and headed for the door.

  “Harry-et, come back here! Harry-et!”

  She kept on marching all the way downstairs until she stood in his immaculate, perfectly antiquated kitchen, trying to decide what she should make for his supper.

  Nathan spent the first few minutes after Harry left the room, proving he could get to the bathroom on his own. With his father’s cane in his left hand he was able to hobble a little. But it was an awkward and painful trip, to say the least. He couldn’t imagine trying to get up and down the stairs to feed himself. Of course, he could sleep downstairs on the couch, but that would put the closest bathroom too far away for comfort.

  By the time Harry showed up with a bowl of chicken noodle soup on a wicker lap tray, Nathan was willing to concede that he needed someone to bring his meals. But only for a day or so until he could get up and and down stairs more easily.

  “All right, Harry-et,” he said, “you win. I’ll send a man to take care of your place for the next couple of days so you can play nursemaid.”

  “Thank you for admitting you need help. I, on the other hand, can manage just fine on my own.”

  “Look, Harry-et, be reasonable. There’s no sense exhausting yourself trying to handle two things at once.”

  “I like exhausting myself,” Harry said contrarily. “I feel like I’ve accomplished something. And I’m quite good at managing three or four things at once, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Stop being stubborn and let me help.”

  “That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” she retorted.

  “Have it your way, then,” he said sullenly.

  “Thank you. I will. I’ll be back in a little while to collect your soup bowl. Be sure it’s empty.” She stopped on her way out the door and added, “I’ll be sleeping on the couch downstairs. That way you can call if you need me during the night.”

  Nathan was lying back with his eyes closed when Harry returned for the dinner tray he’d set aside. She sat down carefully beside him on the bed, so as not to wake him. He was breathing evenly, and since she believed him to be asleep, she risked checking his forehead to see if he had a fever. Just as she was brushing a lock of blond hair out of the way, his eyes blinked open. She saw the pain before he thought to hide it from her.

  She finished her motion, letting it be the caress it had started out as when she’d thought he was asleep. “I was checking to see if you have a fever.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You do.”

  He didn’t argue. Which was all the proof she needed that he wasn’t a hundred percent. “Doc Witley left some aspirin. He said you might need it for the pain. Do you?”

  “No.”

  She sighed. “I’ll leave two on the bedside table with a glass of water, just in case.”

  He grabbed her wrist as she was rising from the bed to keep her from leaving. “Harry-et.”

  “What is it, Nathan?”

  The words stuck in his throat, but at last he got them out. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Nathan. I—”

  Harry was interrupted by a commotion downstairs. “What on earth—” Someone was coming up, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “Hey, Nathan,” a masculine voice shouted, “heard you slipped and landed flat on your ass—” Luke stopped abruptly when he saw Harry Alistair standing beside Nathan. “Sorry about the language, ma’am.” He tipped his hat in apology. “Didn’t know there was a lady present.”

  “How on earth did you find out what happened?” Harry asked. “I swear I haven’t been near a phone—”

  “No phone is as fast as gossip in the West,” Luke said with a grin. “I’m here to see if there’s anything I can do to help out.”

  Nathan opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again, staring pointedly at Harry.

  “I was just taking this downstairs,” she said, grabbing Nathan’s dinner tray. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She hurried from Nathan’s bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  Luke turned back to Nathan and waggled his eyebrows. “Should have known you wouldn’t spend your time in bed all alone.”

  “Watch what you say, Luke,” Nathan warned. “You’re talking about a lady.”

  “So that’s the way the wind blows.”

  “Harry-et is only here as a nurse.”

  “One of the hired hands could nurse you,” Luke pointed out.

  “She refuses to leave, so she might as well do some good while she’s here,” Nathan said defensively.

  “Who’s going to take care of her place while she’s taking care of you?”

  Nathan grimaced. “I offered to have one of my hands help her out. She insists on doing everything herself. Look, Luke, I’d appreciate it if you’d look in on her over the next couple of days. Make sure she doesn’t overdo it.”

  “Sure, Nathan. I’d be glad to.”

  “I’d really appreciate it. You see, Harry-et just doesn’t know when to quit.”

  “Sounds a lot like my Abby.”

  “Your Abby?”

  “Abigail Dayton and I got engaged yesterday.”

  “I thought you hadn’t seen her since she caught that renegade wolf and headed back home to Helena.”

  “Well, I hadn’t. Until yesterday. I figured life is too short to live it without the woman you love. I was already headed over here to give you the big news when I heard about your accident.”

  Nathan reached out and grasped Luke’s hand. “I really envy you. When’s the wedding?”

  Luke grinned wryly. “As soon as my best man is back on his feet again. You’d better make it quick, because Abby’s pregnant.”

  Harry heard Nathan’s whoop at the same time she heard the front door knocker. She didn’t know which one to check out first. Since the door was closer, she hurried to open it.

  “Hi! I’m Hattie Mumford. You must be Harry Alistair. I’m pleased to meet you. I brought one of my apple spice cakes for Nathan. Thought it might cheer him up. Can I see him?”

  The door knocker rattled again.

  “Oh, you get the door, dear,” Hattie said. “I know the way upstairs.”

  Harry just barely resisted the urge to race up ahead of Hattie to warn Nathan what was coming. The knocker rapped again. She waited to answer it because Luke was skipping down the stairs.

  “Is he all right?” Harry asked anxiously. “I heard him holler.”

  Luke grinned. “Nathan was just celebrating the news of my engagement and forthcoming marriage to Abigail Dayton.”

  “You and Abigail?�
�� Harry smiled. “How wonderful. Congratulations!”

  “You’d better get that door,” Luke said. “I’ll just let myself out the back way.”

  Harry opened the door to a middle-aged couple.

  “I’m Babs Sinclair and this is my husband, Harve. We just heard the bad news about Nathan. Thought he might enjoy my macaroni-and-cheese casserole. I’ll just take this into the kitchen. Harve, why don’t you go up and check on Nathan.”

  For want of something better to do, Harry followed Babs Sinclair into the kitchen. The woman slipped the casserole into the oven and turned on the heat. Harry didn’t have the heart to tell her Nathan had already eaten his supper.

  “You better get some coffee on the stove, young’un,” Babs said. “If I know my Harve, he’ll—”

  “Babs,” a voice shouted down from the loft, “send some coffee up here, will you?”

  The door knocker rapped.

  “You better get that, young’un. I’ll take care of making the coffee.”

  For the next three hours neighbors dropped by to leave tokens of their concern for Nathan Hazard. Besides the apple spice cake and the macaroni-and-cheese casserole, Nathan had been gifted with a loaf of homemade bread and a crock of newly made butter, magazines, and a deck of cards. The game of checkers was only on loan and had to be returned once Nathan was well. Harry met more people that evening than in the nearly four months since she’d moved to the Boulder River Valley.

  What she hadn’t realized until Hattie Mumford mentioned it was that her neighbors had been waiting for her to indicate that she was ready for company. They would never have thought to intrude on her solitude without an invitation. Now that Harry was acquainted with her neighbors, Hattie assured her they would all make it a point to come calling.

  Over the next few weeks as she nursed Nathan, Harry was blessed with innumerable visits from the sheepmen of Sweet Grass County and their wives. They always turned up when she was busy with chores and managed to stay long enough to see them finished. She found herself the recipient of one of Hattie’s apple spice cakes. And she thoroughly enjoyed Babs Sinclair’s macaroni-and-cheese casserole.