“I found her weeping out by her tree a day or so ago. I didn’t even let her know I was there. It about broke my heart.”
Leaning her forehead against the wall, Opal thought to her tree, an ancient oak with one branch as big as some other trees running parallel to the ground before curving upward. Opal often lay along that branch and stared into the leaves and branches above her. Bits of blue sky, the sun gilding the leaves, the breeze forming and reforming the patterns of light and shadow. One afternoon she’d fallen asleep there and awoke as she hit the ground. The branch wasn’t that wide.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw rotting carcasses, many now stripped of hide and flesh, ribs arcing white, silent testimonials to the animals that lived and breathed and wandered the wide prairie in search of the perfect grazing spot.
Rand’s entire herd numbered eighty-five with only fourteen calves, six of them heifers. Several of their twenty cows had lost their calves. They had twenty head of heifers of breeding age, so next year they might have forty calves. If they all made it through the winter. If the winter were not so severe. If, if, if. None of which had to do with how hard they worked, other than having put enough hay by and planted oats and wheat, as Rand had done, so they would have grain to eat and feed.
Her mind sorted through the numbers like the Chinese man she’d once seen using an abacus, the beads clicking faster than the ear could hear.
And not only the cattle dead. Little Squirrel and the baby too. Linc gone, his absence at the table a continual reminder—they’d become like family in the time they’d been with them. There’d been another funeral when they found what was left of a woman who had wandered off. If she had to say one more good-bye, Opal was sure she’d cry herself into a puddle to be sucked up by the thirsty ground.
What concerned her the most? Rand and Ruby acted as if nothing was wrong. They said God would provide. Like He’d provided fodder for the cattle this winter? Sometimes she wasn’t sure who she was angrier at, them or God. And Jacob—standing up there talking about how God loved them and ordered that they love one another.
This was home, but what if they couldn’t stay here? So many others had left. Empty soddies, empty ranch houses, empty buildings in Medora, empty prairies. But for the bones. Rand said they would go out and pick up the bones after the sun and the weather, along with the critters and birds, finished cleaning the carcasses. Someone was foolish enough to pay for the bones to be ground up for fertilizer.
Rand was grateful. For the privilege of picking up bones? Another one of those incomprehensible things. Life was incomprehensible. Sleeping seemed the only antidote, but when she slept so much, how come she never woke up rested?
Soon the all-day haying would start, and the women would work from before dawn cooking for the crew and into the night canning if something was ready. Most of the garden would be ready in August, but the Juneberries, strawberries, and chokecherries were ready in July. She wandered down to the barn and let Sprout out of his stall. Rand wanted her to let him run with the herd, but she knew something would get him. He had no fierce longhorn mother to protect him. She let him through the gate and into the pasture, where she sat down and let him graze around her.
His horns showed a couple of inches now, so if he rubbed his head against her, which he loved to do, sometimes it hurt. Like now. “Ouch, you can’t do that.” She pushed him away. He thought she was playing and pushed back.
“You need another young steer to battle with. Not me.” Instead, she scratched under his chin and along his throat, which was guaranteed to make his long eyelashes droop and to make him stretch his muzzle out even more.
Roundup had consisted of castrating and branding their far-toofew calves, including ten for the Robertsons. They’d moved steers that wore other brands to their rightful places, and she assumed other ranchers did the same. Some steers no longer had owners in the area. Rand kept a tally of those he kept so that he could pay the owners if he could find them.
She pulled a long stem of grass and chewed the tender end. Sprout lay down beside her. “If you’re done grazing, better come on back to the corral. I hear Ruby calling.” She got to her feet, and when she walked off, Sprout hoisted his hindquarters, then the front, stretched, tail twisting above his back, and trotted after her, bawling as if she’d forsaken him.
Beans leaned on the top rail of the gate, shaking his head. “You spoiled him so bad he don’t know he’s a steer. Acts more like a dog.”
Opal shrugged. “One of these days he’ll figure it out.”
“Ruby wants you up to the house.”
“Yeah.” She lowered the top two bars of the gate, and Sprout hopped over the lowest. “Back to the corral for you, Sprout.”
Beans replaced the bars and slapped the calf on the rump. He kicked up his heels and galloped after Opal, who rarely even smiled at his antics.
“Mr. Chandler is coming to supper, so I thought you might want to change.”
Opal looked down at her britches. She’d put them on clean this morning. She looked to Ruby. “Why?”
Ruby rolled her eyes. “Because we are having company, and I want you to dress like the female you are.”
Opal shrugged, but her jaw tightened. “He’s seen me in britches before and didn’t seem to mind.”
“Opal, for once just do as I ask.”
“You act like I never do what you want.” Opal tried to keep her voice from rising, but it had a mind of its own.
“Be quiet. You’ll wake Mary.”
A cry from the bedroom said that already happened.
Ruby threw her dishcloth down on the table. “Now see what you did. I just got her to sleep and thought I’d have a few moments of peace and quiet.” She turned so fast her skirt swirled, and she stomped down the hall.
Opal slammed the door on her way out. Wear a dress. Put up your hair. Be quiet. Be more lively. There was no way pleasing Ruby. Most likely she was pregnant again, cranky as she was. As if they needed another baby around.
“Opa!” Per banged at the screen door. “Opa, out!”
“Go away.”
“Opa, out!” He banged harder and started to whimper.
And if he started crying, then that would be all her fault too.
I should have gone with Atticus whether he wanted me along or not. It wasn’t the first time this thought had crossed her mind. What would life be like if…? Sometimes, when she was just about asleep, her mind would float back to before the day she left school and went swimming in the river, before the drifter came. Life had been perfect then. But evil came by and perfect died. She let Per out on the porch, sat back down, and wrapped her arms around her knees. The spot darkened by her tears spread.
“Opa?” Per leaned against her shoulder. When she didn’t respond, he walked around her knee and patted her cheek with his soft baby hand. Opal took him in her arms, settled him in her lap, and used his head where he lay against her chest to dry her tears. How can I be cruel even to you, who is so loving? God, I don’t understand what is going on.
After a while Ghost came and sat beside them, begging for attention. Per leaned over and dug his fingers into her fur. “Opa, see Go.”
“I know. Ghost is here too. We could have a party.”
“Pawty?”
“Close—party.” She kept one arm around Per and laid the other over the cow dog, who quickly dried Opal’s tears with her tongue and then made sure Per got his share of attention. The little boy giggled, the dog wriggled, and Opal let herself smile. I want to be happy again. I want to be me again. I don’t like this person I’ve become— not at all. I should at least be grateful Per is finally well.
“Pa?”
“Gone.”
The men were taking turns riding the range and helping finish the house out at McHenry’s. Today Rand and Joe had gone to the building. Joe had been stringing fence around the seeded fields to keep out the cattle, not that there were that many to keep out.
“I better go help too, I
guess.” Opal stood and picked up Per.
“Ride horse?”
“Nope, not today.” Opal shut the gate behind herself, leaving Per on the porch.
Opal did put on a skirt before Jacob rode up to the house. Rand and Joe arrived at the same time, and Chaps took their horses down to the barn to take off the saddles and let them into the pasture. Beans came up from milking and stopped to strain the milk in the springhouse.
Opal finished setting the table as the men came in together.
“Sure smells good in here.” Rand hung his hat on the tree by the door and combed his hair back with the palms of his hands. “Jacob, make yourself at home.”
Opal turned to greet him and stopped, caught by the funny feeling in her middle and the look in his eyes, which might have been the cause of the strange sensation. She’d felt it around him before, before he started ignoring her. But he’d said he wouldn’t do that again, that they were friends.
“Miss Torvald.” He nodded.
“Mr. Chandler.” Call me Opal, for pity’s sake. But that might upset Rand, and it was bad enough having Ruby unhappy with her so much of the time, let alone both of them.
“If you men would get washed up, we can go ahead and eat,” Ruby said. “Opal, please wash Per’s hands and get him in his chair.”
Opal nodded. Anything to get over this feeling that something was alive and fluttering in her middle. “Come on, Per.”
As soon as they were all seated, Rand bowed his head for grace. “Heavenly Father, we thank you for all you have provided for us, for home, health, food on our table, and friends and family to enjoy it. All this reminds us of how much you love us. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
“ ’Men,” said Per.
Opal glanced up to catch Mr. Chandler grinning at Per. When he smiled at her that feeling returned. She picked up the platter and passed the meat around. If she didn’t look at him, perhaps it would go away.
He seemed to be watching her all through the meal. She watched Per, answered Rand’s question about Sprout, and mopped up where Per spilled his gravy. While he tried to feed himself, some times were messier than others. Ruby had just sat down to finally eat when Mary left off cooing and decided it was time to be fed.
“Opal, would you please make sure everyone has what they need?” Ruby said under her breath. At Opal’s nod, she continued, “If you will excuse me…” Ever gracious, she stood and smiled at those around the table. “Duty calls.”
Rand shook his head. “I think babies have a sense of whenever their mother tries to eat. They always demand to be fed then, company or not.”
Opal grabbed Per’s hand before he dumped his spoonful of food down for Ghost, who always sat right by his chair. “You eat that.”
He looked over the chair arm. “Go.”
“No, it’s not for Ghost.” Opal looked up at the sound of Mr. Chandler chuckling.
He grinned at her. “Keeps you busy, doesn’t he?”
“Me and three or four others. Ghost grabbed the back of his shift and kept him from a tumble down the stairs yesterday. He gets to running and can’t stop. How come Joel didn’t come with you?”
“He and Ada Mae are working on something.”
“Speaking of school, did you hear that Mr. Finch is not planning to return in August?”
“Yes. I’ve sent in my application to take over.”
Opal stared at him. “You’d teach school here?”
“If they hire me. I don’t have a teaching certificate, but I have sufficient schooling and have applied. Mrs. Hegland said there should be no problem.”
“Who’ll help out at the Robertsons?”
“I will. That way Joel and I can continue to live there. Although, with the exodus around here, there are houses available in town now.”
When did all this come about? He talked as if it were public knowledge. Mr. Chandler as the teacher. “So, will you…I mean…” She caught the plate that Per was sliding over the edge. How did Ruby manage to talk and watch him at the same time? “Oh, would all of you care for coffee?”
Opal scooped Per out of his chair and took him over to the washbasin, then fetched the coffeepot. As she refilled the men’s cups she wondered if he would be both teacher and minister, along with working at Robertsons’. He was going to be one busy man. What would it be like to have your pa be the teacher? She felt a bit sad for Joel. Now he wouldn’t dare put critters in the teacher’s desk.
After supper Rand and Mr. Chandler moved out to the front porch. Ruby returned to the kitchen after putting Mary down and picked up the dishcloth to wipe the table.
“You go on out. I’ll finish in here,” Opal said.
“You sure?” Ruby asked and at Opal’s nod, she smiled. “Thank you.”
A while later Opal pushed open the screen door. “I was wondering if you would like coffee out here.” She noted the empty chairs. “Where did they go?”
“For a bit of a walk. I’ll let you know when they come back.” Ruby sat rocking Per. “We’ll eat the pie then.”
Opal nodded. Well, obviously he didn’t come to see me. So why did I have to dress up? Now, why did that thought bother her?
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Rand asked.
Jacob puffed out a sigh. “I’m worried about Opal.”
“We all are. She’s so grown up on one hand and so young on another.” Rand stopped to stare across the now placid summer river to the buttes with Pinnacle Peak glowing red in the last throes of the sunset. “All she can see is the death.” His arm arced to include the land around him. “She can’t see the life coming back, can’t trust that God always brings life back.”
“You have to live through death first before you can believe life will return.”
“I know. You’ve been there.”
Jacob nodded, his hands shoved in his back pockets. “Rand, I don’t know what to do.” The words nearly snagged on the rock in his throat, but he pushed them on by. Was it sheer desperation or the force of love?
He could feel Rand studying him as he sighed, and he wished he were on that butte across the river.
“About what?”
“Opal.” A silence allowed for the croak of a bullfrog down in the cattails. “I…I did what I promised but…I don’t know how to say this.”
“Take your time. There is no hurry.”
“Well, after you told me to wait until she’s sixteen, I did what I’ve done before. I ran away. Running away didn’t help. She thought I didn’t want to be her friend any longer. That isn’t what I meant. But it’s hard to trust my actions when I failed so terribly before.” Jacob stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “When I see the sadness in her eyes…”
Rand sighed, a quiet sound, gentle like the breeze that brought the scent of growing grass and evening. “I know. Life sure isn’t easy. So what do you think now?”
“I think I need to let Opal know that I am her friend and will always be her friend. And pray that God will give me wisdom and strength.”
“I’d say that makes good sense.” Rand cleared his throat and paused. “I’ve even wondered if letting her know that you care for her might help her out of this.”
“Really?” Jacob could feel his heart leap. “Let me know what you decide. I promise, no matter what, to take it slow and easy.” He half chuckled. “After all, the thought of becoming a pastor’s wife might scare her out of the sadness and into pure terror.”
Rand took a turn at chuckling. “You’re a good man, Jacob. Can you stay for another cup of coffee?”
“I better say good night and head on home. Where are we cutting first?”
“The lower section here, then the field at Robertsons’, then the buttes. McHenry is going to help too, and we might do his before the buttes, depends on the weather.”
“And you want me to do the mowing?”
“You’re better at it than the rest of us. I’m always amazed at the way God brings the right people t
o a place at the right time.” Rand stared upward where the first stars pricked holes in the deepening blue. “Nights like this, there is nowhere else I’d rather live on this earth.”
“I wondered during the winter. I heard this was the worst ever, but that wind…” Jacob shook his head. “I understand folks leaving, but it sure seems a shame to walk away from all the hard work they put in.”
“Yep.” Rand turned back toward the house where a lamp glowed in the window. “See that light?”
“Sure.”
“Ruby always makes sure there is a lamp in the window to guide us travelers home. I see that light, and I know she’s waitin’ for me. Nothin’ better in this life, unless it is maybe holding your new baby for the first time.”
Jacob closed his eyes. Lord, let this be part of my life. To you be the glory. The two men strolled back up to the house, the night a gentle lover kissing their shoulders.
“Can you stay for pie and coffee?” Ruby asked when they reached the front of the house.
“Thank you, but I better be on my way. Is Opal still up?”
“She’s out on the back porch.”
Jacob thought a second. “I’ll go say good night, and I’ll be here ready to cut as soon as the dew leaves.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Ruby kept her rocking chair in motion, the child at her shoulder soundly sleeping.
“Yes.” Jacob untied his horse and led him around the end of the house. If he hadn’t known she was there, he’d not have seen her. But something inside him knew even before his eyes.
“Opal—er, Miss Torvald.”
“Here.” He could hear a smile in her voice. “Miss Torvald? Hmm. That sounds so formal, Mr. Chandler. Or should I call you Reverend Chandler?”
Was that a mocking tone he heard now? It would be easier to tell if he could see her face. But all he could see was the white glow of her waist.
“My friends call me Jacob.”
The rocking chair squeaked a private song.
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