Stephen Bly's Horse Dreams Trilogy: Memories of a Dirt Road, the Mustang Breaker, Wish I'd Known You Tears Ago

by Stephen A. Bly

  “You said your brother's in the Persian Gulf aboard a ship. What does that have to do with riding horses?”

  “I don't know. I wish I could call him right now.”

  “Let's go ride and talk about it.”

  Develyn staggered into the tiny bathroom. She emerged, wearing jeans and a red T-shirt with yellow scrolled words, “Genuine Cowboy girl,” across the front.

  “Cute. Where did you get that?”

  “Lily found it in Greencastle and mailed it to me. She was afraid I'd be dressed in thrift store clothing after the fire.”

  “Did she marry that lawyer yet?”

  “She promised to wait for my approval. I think she's in Wisconsin with her grandkids now. What's the hurry about a ride?”

  “We haven't been on a ride for a while.”

  “I went out with Coop.”

  “Yes, and I went out with Jackson two days ago. That's my point, you and I haven't gone out for a while.”

  Dev tugged on her tennies and shoved her straw hat down on partially combed blonde hair. “Why so early?”

  “Because Jackson will be here at eight to help run the store, remember?”

  “Oh, yes. Poor Mrs. Tagley.”

  When they stepped out on the porch, the dust in the wind swirled like miniature confetti. “This isn't a good day for riding,” Develyn said.

  “There's no such thing as a bad day for riding. I've got them saddled. Come on.”

  Uncle Henry sauntered up to Develyn, and she scratched his ears. “I know it's early, honey, but the bronze bombshell has something spinning in her mind.” The burro plodded along beside her toward the paint mare. “Does anything ever spin in your mind? Besides Aunt Jenny? Casey, why are you dragging us around so early?”

  Cree-Ryder pulled herself into the saddle and clutched My Maria's reins while Develyn mounted. “This is going to be a crazy day. I want to get focused before it gets out of control.”

  Develyn rode up beside Casey. “Ms. Cree-Ryder wants her life focused?”

  “You see, you are rubbing off on me.”

  “I don't know, you are still the bronze bombshell.”

  “I don't mean that pathetic white skin. Actually, you are so tan now you could pass for a…a…Nevadan.”

  “Is that good?”

  “As long as you stay out of Vegas and Reno.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “It doesn't matter.”

  “You want to see the springs where Coop is going to build?”

  “Sure.”

  Develyn buttoned her long-sleeved denim shirt like a coat and tugged down her new hat. She led the way when the trail dropped down to the tiny creek, then back up on the sage and brown grass prairie. Uncle Henry shuffled along about twenty feet behind.

  “Now, will you tell me what this is all about?” Develyn asked.

  “You and I need a private talk. I figured this would be a good excuse.”

  “What's the subject.”

  “First, me.”

  “You? Could this be about you and Mr. Jackson Hill?”

  Casey's thick lips broke into a wide grin. “Yeah. He asked me to marry him.”

  Develyn spun My Maria around to face Casey. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

  “You and Dee were asleep when I came home. I mean, I don't have a ring yet. We just sort of agreed to get engaged.”

  Dev turned back for the cedar ridge to the north, and the ladies rode side by side. “How did that come about?”

  “Well, we were parked in front of the cabin last night, making out, and Jackson's hand slipped into…”

  “I don't want to know this. That's too much information. What I want to know was how did he propose?”

  “That's what I'm getting to. His hand…”

  “Casey, I don't want to know where his hand was or your hands were, your lips or…”

  “Relax, Ms. Worrell. His hand slipped into his pocket, and he pulled out a poem he had written and read it to me.”

  “A poem?”

  “Yes, Mother, a poem about a search for someone to share a life with and a future with children, horses, and a ’65 blue Mustang convertible.”

  “Jackson has a ’65 Mustang?”

  “No, but he doesn't have a wife and kids either. It's what he wants. Then he asked if I'd be the one to help all those dreams come true.”

  “That's sweet.”

  “He's wonderful, Dev.”

  “So what did you tell him?”

  “I said, ‘Heck yeah, I'll marry you.’”

  “But you didn't say it that way.” Develyn paused. “You did say it that way?”

  “Heck yeah, I did.”

  “OK, but you know what I am going to tell you.”

  “That we've only known each other a couple of weeks? That's why we want to get engaged. We figure it will accelerate our relationship, and we'll find out what we are really like.”

  “So you aren't getting married right away?”

  “Of course not. We want to wait until the fifteenth.”

  “Of what month?”

  “August.”

  Develyn choked. “That's ten days from now!”

  “You see, I said we were willing to wait. I'm just teasing you, Mama. I told him I would not marry him until ten months after he gives me a ring. That makes it next June.”

  “Why ten months?”

  “Because I don't want anyone thinking he's marrying me because I'm…” Casey's hand went to her mouth. “Sorry, Dev.”

  “That's OK. Delaney has her trail to hike. You have yours.”

  “Anyway, Jackson wanted us to focus on really getting to know each other for a while.”

  “How's that going to work out with him working up at Glacier Park?”

  “He's moving to Casper.”

  “When?”

  “He's going to call his boss today.”

  “But he doesn't have a job.”

  “He said he'll find one. He loves me, Dev. He wants to be with me all the time. You and Jackson are the only two people I've ever known that like to be with me, day after day. Not even my mother could stand it every day.”

  “I'm very happy for you.”

  “Good. Will you talk to Jackson?”

  “Why?”

  “I told him I could not agree to marry him until he talked to Mama.”

  “But, I'm not… ”

  “Please, Dev.”

  “What do you want me to say to him?”

  “Pretend that you really are my mother. What would you want to ask him? I need to know that someone smarter than me asked all the right questions.”

  “What makes you think I'm smarter than… ”

  “Please talk to him.”

  “OK, Casey. I'll visit with your man. I want to find out if he is worthy of the sweetest, kindest, most tenacious half-breed on the planet.”

  “You forgot the bronze bombshell part.”

  “That goes without saying.”

  “Go ahead and say it.”

  “The most tenacious bronze bombshell on the planet.”

  “Thank you.”

  “When am I going to have this visit with Mr. Jackson Hill?”

  “Today. When I go to Riverton with Delaney, you and Jackson can talk.” Casey stared at the landscape. “Where is Cooper going to build his house?”

  “Up in those cedars. You want to race?”

  “Remember the first race we had this summer?”

  “I remember I sailed right over My Maria's head and landed in the dirt.”

  “How many times have you been bucked off this summer?”

  “Six or seven,” Dev replied. “Who's counting?”

  “You've toughened up on the outside. How about on the inside?”

  “Now you are getting personal. Are we going to race or
not?”

  Casey slapped Popcorn and shouted as she galloped toward the distant mountain range.

  My Maria bolted after the Appaloosa, and within a couple of minutes had pulled into the lead. Develyn's backside pounded leather until she found the paint mare's stride. Then she transferred most of the jolt into her knees and legs. The strong crosswind cooled the left side of her face and brought early morning chills to her arms.

  This is what I will miss most of all, Lord. Oh, how I love to gallop like the wind. Why is that? It's on the verge of being reckless. On the edge of danger. One step away from being slammed to the dirt. It's like my life had become so routine, so safe, so predictable I could go through every day, every week, every year without a thought. I existed in such a rut, it takes so little of my mind or body or soul. I shoved myself out into a mental swamp and coasted for years. Finally, this summer, it's as if I came to a dead stop and learned how to paddle all over again.

  I like it, Lord.

  I like feeling alive. Maybe I was right. Maybe that day when Dee was a baby was the day I stopped really living and just tried to survive.

  No more.

  Develyn reached the creek at the bottom of the cedar ridge and turned My Maria north along the bank. She slowed the mare to a canter, then to a trot, and waited for Casey Cree-Ryder to catch up.

  “You two are getting faster every week.” Casey reined up beside Develyn.

  They dismounted and let the horses drink the gurgling water.

  “I like running the prairie, but I still get nervous winding through the trees,” Develyn admitted.

  “You think we should turn back?”

  “Let me show you our… ”

  “Our?”

  “I don't know where that came from.”

  “Your heart?”

  “This has been a strange summer, Casey. For years I have not given any man more than two glances, and now… ”

  “You have them waiting in line.”

  They mounted and rode up the creek.

  “No, they aren't waiting in line, but I've learned a lot about myself from each of them.”

  “It's been a good summer for me too.”

  “Well, it was the Lord's leading that brought four special men into my life.”

  Develyn heard a familiar bray from far behind them.

  “Five,” Casey laughed.

  “Poor dear.” Develyn watched as the burro approached. “Those short legs get tired so fast.”

  “So where are you and Coop going to build your house?”

  “Coop's house. But I get to decorate it. It will be fun.”

  “So you do plan on coming back?”

  “Are you kidding? I was promised that I get to be matron of honor.”

  “Only if you keep that tan.”

  “I promise to visit the tanning salon every week until the wedding.”

  They trotted up to the clearing. “This will make a good place for a house, don't you think?”

  “It's wonderful,” Casey said. “You'll love it.”

  “Countess, I told you I'm an Indiana schoolteacher through and through. I'm not leaving Crawfordsville until it's time to retire.”

  “You can spend your summers in your Wyoming house and your winters in your Indiana house. Other married people do things like that.”

  “If I'm married, I intend to spend my winters in my husband's arms. Not a thousand miles away.”

  “You don't think any of them would want to move to Indiana with a cute, perky forty-five-year-old?”

  Develyn laughed and led My Maria across the clearing. “Think about it: could you see Quint Burdett living in a white-brick ranchette-style home in central Indiana where the neighbor kid works on motorcycles until two in the morning and the biggest event of the year is the Covered Bridge Festival?”

  “Probably not.”

  “How about Renny? You think that mustang breaker would be satisfied to lead llamas around the school petting zoo at the annual fall carnival? And the only cowboy hats he'd see have pink-dyed duck feathers for a hatband?”

  “No, I don't think Renny could survive that,” Casey concurred. “How about Coop?”

  “Honey, Coop thinks Argenta is a town. He won't build where the cabins are because it's too crowded.”

  “Are you saying you are going to reject all three of them?”

  Develyn frowned. “I just want to take care of my Dee this summer and let everything else fall into place. I might daydream but not too much. Reality keeps tugging me back.”

  “What is reality?”

  “Are you going to get philosophical on me?”

  “I promise not to quote Jean Paul Sarte or Rene Decartes, but sometimes it seems the thing we call reality is the fence we construct to guard our world. Self-imposed limits, so to speak. What if we tore down those walls and just said, “‘Lord, you can do anything you want with me.’ What do you think might happen?”

  Develyn dropped the reins around the saddle horn, raised her arms in the air, and shouted, “Here I am, Lord! You can do anything you want with me!”

  At the sound of her shout, My Maria lunged forward. Develyn tumbled off the back of the horse, landing on her hands and knees in the dirt.

  “Oh, that's what would happen?” Casey laughed. “In that case, I don't think I'll do it.”

  “How can that happen again?” Develyn staggered to her feet and looked at her hands. “I used to have nice-looking fingernails. I haven't had this much dirt crammed in them since Mari Clennen broke her ant farm in the girls' bathroom during the talent show.”

  Develyn swung back into the saddle. “You know, I will not miss being bucked off.”

  “You weren't bucked off. You just fell off. My Maria didn't buck at all.”

  “Did you say that to make me feel better?”

  Casey laughed. “No, I just want the story to come out right in the teachers' lounge back in Crawfordsville.”

  “I have no intention of confessing each time I was bucked or fell off a horse.”

  “I'm going to tell them. Remember, I'm going to come visit you between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

  “You intend to go tattle about everything that happened this summer?”

  “I'm going to title my report, ‘Ms. Worrell's Summer Vacation.’”

  “Hmmm, well, I'm going to try not to fall off again before I go.”

  “Are you running out of gas?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There's a gas can chained to the tree over there.”

  Develyn looked around. “Oh, that belongs to Hunter Burke. He asked if he could leave it there. It seemed a little strange, but Coop didn't mind.”

  “It's strange to me.”

  “That's what I thought. If he needed more fuel, why not carry it on the back of his ATV?”

  “The strange part is that gas can has a seam in the middle.”

  “What does that mean?”

  They rode over to the red Jeep can that was chained to an eight-foot cedar.

  Casey pointed to the can. “There's a hinge on this side. It opens up in the middle.”

  “Like some kind of secret compartment?”

  “It's not too secret. I spotted it across the clearing.”

  Develyn swung down out of the saddle and handed the reins up to Casey.

  “Can I open it without unlocking the chain?”

  “Give it a try.”

  Develyn unhooked the latch and lifted up the top of the can. “The top's heavy. I think it has gas.” She peeked inside. “Oh, my!”

  “What's in there?”

  Develyn slammed the top back on the gas can. “Bullets.”

  “What?”

  She opened the gas can again. “There are six boxes of .38-special bullets.”

  “That's for a handgun. Is there a gun too?”

&n
bsp; “No, just bullets.” Develyn stared across the clearing. “But he did say he was sizing up hunting grounds for later this year. Maybe he wanted to store up some bullets too.”

  “He's not going to hunt elk with a .38-special handgun. Besides, no one is such a bad shot they need a hundred bullets for hunting.”

  Develyn mounted up. “What are you saying?”

  “You stash bullets where you think you'll need them.”

  “You think we should tell someone?”

  “Tell your Coop. He'll know what to do.”

  “My Coop. First it was my Quint, then my Renny, and now it's my Coop?”

  “You have a possessive nature.”

  “I've been told that.”

  “By your other daughter, I suppose?”

  “Yes.”

  “That's the other reason we needed an early morning ride. She wants me to go with her to the doctor. What kind of advice do you want me to give her? Dev, I'm not smart enough to figure out my own life, let alone someone else's.”

  “Casey, I know Dee's made some mistakes. I just don't want her to compound them.”

  “You mean like get an abortion?”

  “She said she didn't want that, but I don't know what kind of doctor she'll be seeing. I don't want her talked into something she'll regret. If she's pregnant, I'd like for her to find some direction, make some plans to take care of herself and her baby.”

  “You want me to tell her all that?” Casey asked.

  Develyn mounted the paint mare. “No, sweet Casey. Just be yourself and be her friend. No girl needs two mothers.”

  Develyn showered, pulled on clean jeans and a yellow blouse, and was putting on her makeup when Delaney crawled out of bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “I'm OK. Did we get in another argument, or was that a dream?”

  “I believe we had a difference of opinion about your dating Hunter Burke.”

  “Yeah, that's what I thought.” Delaney studied her mother. “Mom, do you have any idea what it's like going through life with a cute mother?”

  “Thanks, Sweetie. I never thought about it much.”

  “I can't remember how many people have said, 'Delaney Upton? Are you the one with the cute mother?’”

  “Who said that?”

  “Or the one I like best: ‘So, you're Develyn's daughter. You look just like your father.’”

  Develyn studied the oval mirror and used her fingertips to rub cream into the lines around her eyes. “Dee, people always say dumb things. I was always ask, ‘Why can't you be more like your mother?’”