First Street Church: Love's Blessing (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Clear Creek Legacy Book 1)

by Linda K. Hubalek

  The worst part of moving the cattle was that his left foot had to support him getting out and into the ATV to open and close the gates. His foot sometimes felt as if it would "catch" for lack of better term to describe it and he had to be careful he didn't fall flat on his face.

  And where was the problem steer now? Riel's eyes searched the pasture because the steer wasn't where he was a minute ago.

  Great. The steer had run and jumped across another fence. Now the animal was three gates away regarding where he should be.

  Riel took his time driving, opening gates to get in the same paddock as the lone steer. The animal was alertly watching him, ready to run again. Riel would have to get the steer back into the alley heading in the right direction but then get around him to open the gate where the other steers were now standing at the said gate watching his little roundup instead of eating in the opposite end of the paddock.

  Riel knew he should go back to get Jenna or Grandpa to help him with the gate, but he wanted to handle it himself. He was capable, growing up with livestock, to know what they'd do.

  The steer stood stock still as the ATV slowly angled around it. The animal took three steps in the direction it should go before it pivoted and bolted in the opposite direction, bound and determined to jump another fence.

  "You ugly hunk of meat!" Riel yelled as his temper rose and he pushed the gas pedal down to the floorboard. Riel was not going to let the steer get the best of him!

  Riel pushed to race the ATV between the fence on his right and the flat-out running steer on his left to maneuver the animal back in the right direction. The race continued for several seconds until the steer lunged ahead and turned sharply in front of the ATV, determined to jump the fence.

  The steer didn't make the leap complete before the ATV plowed into the side of it, knocking the thousand-pound animal down and flipping the light-weight ATV on its side.

  Riel lay on the ground, stunned. He'd been thrown from the vehicle since he didn't have the seat belt fastened around him. Geeze, that was a hard hit on his left side. Did he break any bones, dislocate his shoulder? Riel slowly sat up and wondered how bad the steer was injured.

  The steer stood by the fence, and as soon as it realized Riel was watching him, the steer jumped the fence, trotting across the paddock toward the rest of the group. There was one more fence between the steer and the group, and dang if the steer didn't jump the last fence and join his buddies in the fresh grass.

  That steer was going in the meat freezer sooner than later.

  And he couldn't drive the ATV back to the ranch yard, so he was going to have to call for help. Before he tried to stand up, he reached into his back pocket for his cell phone. Crap. It wasn't there. Did it fall out when he crashed or was it lying near one of the many gates he'd opened and closed this afternoon?

  Riel crawled back to the ATV to give him support to get back on his feet, all the while looking around in the tall grass for his phone. Holding onto a tire of the overturned vehicle, he pulled himself upright and leaned on the tire for the minute to slow his heart down and check his booted prosthesis. Luckily his ankle stump was still firmly in place.

  "Phone's got to be around here." Riel slowly walked around the area but didn't find it. Maybe it was at the last gate he'd closed?

  Riel spent fifteen minutes looking around two gates and decided he just better give up the hunt and walk back to the house. Then they could come back out here to upright the ATV and hunt for his phone. Jenna could use her phone to call his phone and maybe—just maybe—they'd hear it ring.

  He hadn't walked twenty feet before something caught his left boot and his nose violently hit the ground before he had time to brace his fall. He twisted his body to get up, but the action pulled his left stump of his boot, solidly held in the ground. Pain radiated around his ankle. Shoot! He'd stepped in a badger hole. Riel sat up and gingerly pulled the sock off his stump. It was already turning purple.

  Rile scrubbed his face with his hands, trying not to give into the panic and pain he was feeling. How bad had he hurt his stump? Would it require surgery? Hopefully, the prosthesis wasn’t damaged too. Now he’d be back on crutches again, losing his independence until he healed again.

  *

  "Why didn't you call?" Jenna yelled slamming the pickup door an hour later. "We've been waiting forty-five minutes for you to come in for supper."

  Wait. No... we were worried, or are you hurt?

  Was she mad at him for causing this inconvenience?

  "I had a heck of a time finding you since you were lying down." Jenna continued as she walked toward him.

  "Sorry! I decided to take a nap and didn't think to cancel my dinner reservations!" Riel snapped back. The throbbing pain in his stump, and now also his left shoulder, made him want to swear at the heavens and Jenna.

  "Where's the ATV?" Her question had a hint of irritation in it.

  "Down over the hill."

  "Why are you−−"

  Jenna stopped mid-sentence as she stared at his swollen stump. He winced as he jerked his left knee to hide the stump under his right jean-covered leg. She'd never seen his injury before.

  "What happened?" Jenna gasped.

  "Steer ear-tagged number nine."

  "The jumper." She shook her head apparently knowing the antics of that steer. "I told Russ more than once we needed to get rid of that steer. I'm tired of fixing the fences he knocks down."

  "So why is number nine still here?"

  "Not quite big enough to butcher yet," Jenna called back as she walked back to the pickup. Riel watched as she started the pickup and drove it close to where he sat on the ground.

  Riel pulled himself upright by grabbing on to the running board, then reaching for the passenger door handle. He was not going to have Jenna help him into the pickup if he could help it. Riel opened the door and hopped around until he could lean against the seat, grab the overhead bar and pull himself onto the seat.

  Jenna watched but didn't say anything. She looked like she could ask a hundred questions, but his sullen mood was keeping her from asking them.

  "Need my boot," Riel growled, mostly at himself for forgetting it.

  Jenna turned, looked around, then picked his boot, and his forgotten hat, and carried them back to the pickup.

  "Where to, soldier? Hospital to check your injuries?"

  "No, not yet. Let me ice my stump first and check my prosthesis." Riel's words deflated him. He'd made good progress since the accident, and now such a simple thing of stepping in a badger hole had put him back on the injured list.

  When Jenna didn't start the pickup, Riel turned to look at her. "Chin up, Riel. You'll be back on your feet soon, and number nine will be in the freezer."

  Riel sighed, knowing she was right. This was a very small setback compared to the months of healing and therapy he'd endured, but it just grated on him he'd messed up by not watching his step. Just like those months ago when he didn't notice the hidden IED.

  "Crutches in your room?" Jenna asked him as she opened the pickup door when they arrived home.

  "Yeah, in the closet."

  "You have problems with the ATV, Gabriel?" Grandpa asked as he opened the passenger door. Riel didn't bother getting out yet because he needed the crutches to balance his body to get inside the house.

  "Sorry, Grandpa, but I flipped your ATV when I hit a steer."

  "Did you hurt Chuck?"

  "Chuck?" Who was Chuck? His grandpa wasn't making sense.

  "Number nine's name is Chuck."

  Riel gritted his teeth, hating the steer who apparently, was one of Grandpa's favorites.

  "How did you know that was the steer I hit?"

  "Chuck—short for chuck roast—has been a problem since day one, but I want at least a hundred more pounds on him before he goes to the processor."

  Riel bit his tongue and watched Jenna run out the front door carrying his crutches.

  "Oh, gosh? Did you hurt your foot, Gabriel?"

>   "No foot to hurt, Grandpa," Riel muttered.

  "I'm so sorry; I should have gotten rid of Chuck the first time he jumped a fence." Riel hated his grandpa looked so upset, but the fact was, ranchers knew to get rid of dangerous livestock. And because his grandfather hadn't, Riel was paying the price now. But then Riel hadn't acted responsibly with the ATV either and caused the wreck himself.

  "It's all right, Grandpa. I should have come back for help instead of racing the riled steer like a greenhorn cowboy."

  Grandpa nodded, probably understanding how Riel felt.

  "The saying goes, 'when you work with livestock, it's not if you get hurt, but when.'"

  "I heard that from Dad every time I had a close call with a horse or cow on our ranch. Made me always pay attention to their body movements. It looked like I forgot this time."

  Riel felt better about himself as Jenna handed him his crutches. Even though he was hurt, it was a normal ranching accident, and Grandpa and Jenna hadn’t coddled him…too much…about his war injury.

  Maybe he was making progress in his recovery after all.

  Chapter 6

  It had been three weeks since Riel's arrival, but it seemed longer since the three of them had gotten into a routine.

  During breakfast, they'd talk about what needed to be done for the day, besides daily livestock chores. Riel suggested he paint the corral fences since he could reach them without a ladder and move at his own pace. His stump was still healing from his ATV accident.

  Jenna brought out a five-gallon bucket that had a plastic seat lid on it, so he could sit down part of the time to paint the lower rungs. She knew Riel's foot had to be throbbing at times the way he shifted his feet around, but he kept at his job. At least with the fall weather, it wasn't too hot to be outside during the middle of the day.

  "Missed a spot." Jenna couldn't help teasing Riel as she brought a big plastic bottle of lemonade for his afternoon drink.

  "Where?" Riel leaned down to peer up at the bottom of the bars, where it was easy to miss painting.

  "Just teasing. Brought some refreshments out for you. Lemonade and chocolate chip cookies. Want to take them to the barn so we can sit with the pups?"

  "Sure," Riel said as he slowly rose from his makeshift stool. "Let me put the lid on the paint can and the brush in the plastic bag to keep it from drying out."

  Jenna liked that Riel always took care of his tools. He was always polite and thoughtful too. Her mind went back to her early-married days when she and Tug bought their first home—a fixer-upper—and spent time together remodeling and painting each room. Each room brought a new challenge and memory; from finding an electrical, plug-in that didn't work to abandoning a project to make love on the floor. They were so young and so in love. Why did everything have to fall apart?

  "Jenna?" Riel called to her since he'd started walking to the barn and she'd stayed rooted in one spot with the memories.

  "Oh, sorry. My mind went elsewhere for a minute." Jenna didn't look up to meet Riel's eyes because he’d see her unshed tears.

  "Not a problem, unless you're scared to know where it went to," Riel added as he stepped into the barn. They waited for a second to get used to the dim light before walking down the aisle to where the puppies were yapping for attention.

  "I can't believe the puppies will be leaving us soon. Seems like they were just little sticks of butter last week." Jenna stepped over the barrier and sat down in a clean spot of hay.

  "Stick of butter?" Riel pulled up the campstool and set the bottle of lemonade and container of cookies on it before sinking down beside Jenna.

  "Yes, when the pups were born they were the same shape and size of a stick of butter. I kid you not. But they filled out by the next day and rapidly grew every day since."

  Riel's pup made a beeline for Riel's lap before the other puppies charged into her and Riel. It was a mayhem of little barks and licking tongues until the pups settled into their laps.

  "Now that they're settled, you might be able to drink your lemonade." Jenna had a hand on the top of two little heads, trying to pet them to calm them down.

  "Think so? And if I open the cookie container I'll have all five puppies leaning against my chest trying to take a bite."

  Jenna laughed as the puppies ran between her and Riel when he reached for the lemonade.

  "I think I'll have to wait to eat and drink after we play with the puppies," Riel said as he gave up and put the bottle back on the stool.

  "Being an only child, I always wanted to have several children. I think these puppies give me an idea of what life would have been like with a bunch of little kids." Jenna wishfully commented as a puppy tried to tug on her long braid.

  Riel studied her then asked, "So why didn't you and your husband have children if you don't mind my asking?"

  Jenna shrugged her shoulders but looked at Riel to answer his question. "We were never blessed with children. We talked about adopting, but then Tug had one injury, then another, so we kept putting it off. I thought maybe after he retired we'd start the process, but..." Jenna pressed a puppy up against her chest. She always dreamed of having a family, but that was one dream of many crushed with Tug's death.

  "What about you? Do you want to marry and have kids someday?" Jenna decided to ask since Riel had asked her.

  Instead of answering Jenna, Riel continued to stroke his puppy’s head. Did he not hear her question and choose not to answer?

  "I couldn't protect the boy, so I can't have a child." Jenna leaned over since he spoke so quietly. What did he mean, and dare she ask him to clarify it? Did this have something to do with his final deployment?

  Jenna eased her hand over to Riel's knee. "Want to tell me about it?" She wanted to help Riel heal mentally as well as physically while he was in Texas.

  His arms tightened around the puppy, but it didn't whimper in distress.

  "I was carrying a child through an area we thought had been swept for IED’s. He wanted down, so I let go...and he ran across an IED."

  Oh, Lord! What a thing to witness! Jenna squeezed her eyes tightly, trying to keep the image out of her head.

  "I'm so sorry, Riel." Jenna pushed the puppies off her lap and turned to wrap her arms around Riel. He sat still and stiff a second, then pulled away.

  ***

  "You don’t need to feel sorry for me," Riel stated as he pulled away and set his back against the stall wall. He reached for Lucy and pulled her to his chest.

  Was he using the dog as a barrier between him and Jenna? Maybe. Possibly. Yes, because he felt confused by his stirring emotions.

  "Oh, course I feel sorry for your loss. For the boy who died. For what you had to see on your tours of duty. For the love of others, you're missing out on."

  "Well, gee, that makes me feel so much better."

  "But it was also a hug to release the pain, maybe more for me than for you." Jenna looked away, but her blushing face told him she was now embarrassed.

  "For you? Why?"

  "I miss the companionship of a man my age, the closeness of a couple. Hugs…and more. Reading the newspaper together after eating breakfast. Even passionately arguing whether it was about wallpaper or politics. The goodnight kiss and the 'I love you' before going to sleep."

  "Guess I hadn't thought of all that since I've never been in a long-term relationship."

  "Why haven't you?"

  "My military career came first, and I didn't want a wife and family left behind while I served my country, knowing I might not come back someday."

  "I'm guessing you were close to retirement though?"

  "Had only two more years to make my twenty years of service, then I was going to start my civilian life. I'd be thirty-eight then but still young enough to join my family's ranching community and start my own family."

  "Well, at age thirty-six, you start your plan two years earlier then." Jenna gave an exasperated huff.

  She didn't get it. Him seeing the child blown to bloody parts killed his
dreams of being a father. He couldn't fathom holding a child again, let alone being a parent in charge of its well-being.

  "No. No. It's not in the cards for me.”

  "That's what I thought too after Tug died, but time has a way of healing, especially if I concentrate on the good times and forgive the bad."

  "Well, I'm a far way from healing, if ever."

  "So, what do you plan to do for the next sixty years then? You have almost two-thirds of your life left to live," Jenna challenged him.

  "What do you plan to do? What are you thirty, thirty-two?"

  "Thirty-five. I was nineteen when I married."

  "Okay, you're in the same situation as me. You plan to live in my grandfather's bunkhouse until you're ninety?"

  "No, although I do like how I've decorated it." Jenna cocked her head and raised her chin.

  Riel relaxed. The tension mellowed with their banter.

  "Okay, lay out your cards. I bet you have a plan in that pretty brain of yours. Spill it."

  The blush crept up to her hairline again. Riel loved when he made it happen. Why? Probably because she was aware of him? Possibly.

  "I’ve been saving nearly every penny your grandfather has been paying me for my work. I spent my last dime on a bus ticket home," Jenna's voice softened as she talked about returning home.

  "My goal is to raise and train dogs. Take them to competitions; sell them to people who need trained dogs to help herd cattle and sheep."

  "And where are you going to do this?"

  "For now, here. I've already talked to your grandfather about it. Most of his land is rented to the neighbor, but he kept the eighty acres around the homestead. There’s pasture for the horses, and the rest divided into rotating paddocks for the stocker steers he buys in the spring and sells in the fall.

  "Next year he's going to cut back on the steer numbers, so he'll need less acreage. I'm going to use that acreage to pasture some lambs."

  "Because the dogs need to work with sheep."

  "Exactly." Jenna smiled at him that he'd caught on with her plan.