“Funny, my friends call me Opal.”
“Good night, Opal.” He swung aboard his horse and turned to leave. “See you tomorrow.”
“Good night, Jacob.”
The sound of his name from her lips lent wings to his heart as he let his horse slow-jog home. He knew the horse could see better than he could. There was that trust thing again. He thought about his sermon for Sunday. Perhaps trust was a good topic for all of them—to know that perfect love from the heavenly Father and to trust Him to live up to His promises. Did one ever learn those lessons perfectly? Cutting hay would give him plenty of time for thinking.
It was perfect haying weather. Jacob pushed the lever on the cycle mower to lower the cutting bar, hupped the team, and started out, the clacking cutting blades laying the thick grass back over the bar in a steady stream. The team plodded around the field, now rounding the corners as the cut swath broadened. Midmorning Ada Mae and Joel came running across the field to bring him a jug of water and two slices of bread with meat in between.
Jacob stopped the team, raised the sickle bar, and motioned for them to come around on the offside. “Thank you. I’m about as dry as thistledown.” Looping the reins over one of the handles, he stepped from the machine, stretching muscles already weary from staying in one position.
“Mrs. Harrison said you would be,” Ada Mae said, holding out the water jug.
Joel eyed the rows. “Real straight, huh, Pa?”
“I try to be. The grass is looking real good. So what have you been doing?” He took the jug from Ada Mae and drank, the cold water easing his throat.
Joel rolled his eyes. “Stacking wood. Everywhere I go, I stack wood.”
“You could be splitting wood by now.” Jacob took a longer glug of water, letting some dribble down his chin. While the sun felt good in the earlier morning, by now, as it climbed higher, he’d call it hot. As he’d said, it was perfect haying weather as long as the rain stayed away. They needed lots of dry weather to let it dry, rake and turn it, and then haul it to the barns and stacks. After this last winter he didn’t think one could ever put up too much. The sandwich disappeared in four bites.
“We’re going to pick strawberries after dinner, Pa. Opal knows where a patch is ripe.”
“Good for you.”
When he finished eating, Jacob fetched the oil can from behind the metal seat and squirted drops of oil into the gearbox and along the cycle. “Watch what I’m doing, and next time you can do it.” With Joel watching carefully, he finished the job. “The oil helps keep the parts that move against each other from wearing out so quickly.”
“How much oil?”
“A couple of squirts. You don’t want to waste it, but machinery always needs oil to run well. Like horses need feed and water. One thing machinery doesn’t need is to rest like horses do. This afternoon I’ll take out a different team.” He set the can back in its place and looked at his son and Ada Mae. “So Opal is taking you two out strawberry picking?”
“Yep. Mrs. Harrison said we can have strawberry shortcake if we find enough.”
He’d not asked about Opal, just gone about his business but hoped he would see her. Dinnertime couldn’t come soon enough. He drained the water jug and handed it back. “Thanks again and tell Mrs. Harrison thank you too.” He watched the children run back across the field before he climbed back aboard the mower and let down the sickle bar again. Good thing he had an extra set of blades all sharpened and ready to go.
With everything running smoothly again, he let his thoughts play. Every time Joel called him Pa, his heart chuckled. What a difference this year from last. Back then Joel was surly, and he wasn’t much better himself. He’d been no more prepared to be a father than Joel had been ready to accept him as such. It hadn’t helped when Joel took to riding and roping like he was born to it, and his pa had two left hands and a rope that twisted out of sheer spite. Some sight that must have been. As Opal said, it was all in the wrist.
When the sun hit straight up, he drove the team back to the barn, let them loose in the corral, and joined the others at the washing bench.
“Watching you mow is like watching an artist at work.” Rand dried his face with one of the towels.
“Thank you. That grass is near to perfect. Thicker than last year.”
“I spread manure from the barn out there and on the garden. We’ll see how the grain field does.”
“Looks good so far. I read about a ride-on plow too. You got a lot done for using a hand plow.”
“Yes, and to think that some have farmed with no horses, just one man pulling the plow and another man or woman on the handles keeping that plowshare digging in.” Rand shook his head. “I’d much rather ride a horse than dig behind one.”
“You read about the Bonanza farms in the Red River Valley?” McHenry asked.
“Where’s the Red River Valley?” Jacob asked.
“Eastern edge of Dakotah Territory. I got the mower from a place in Fargo. That’s part of the Red River Valley.” Rand flipped the towel over one of the nails pounded into the springhouse wall for that purpose.
McHenry shook his head. “We should have talked about this sooner. You got the mower, so I’ll get the plow. All I could think on was getting that house going.”
“You want to do that, I won’t argue.” The three walked together up to the house. “Might be good if one of the rest of us took lessons from Jacob here on the mower, the upkeep and all. I tried sharpening those blades. It’s downright easy to put a nick in them on the grinding wheel. Sure wish Linc was here. He was a good one on the repairs. Had an eye for that kind of thing.”
Jacob automatically searched for Opal as soon as he walked in the house.
She turned from serving the meat onto a platter and sent him a smile, not quite the old Opal kind but better than being ignored.
“Pa!” Per banged his spoon on the table, his face lighting with a smile that made Jacob grin back.
One day. Someday.
“So how’s the house coming?” Ruby asked McHenry after all the food was on the table and grace said.
“I’m still splitting shakes. Got more than half the roof on.” McHenry buttered his slice of bread and raised it in appreciation. “You’ll have to teach me how to make bread. I do biscuits all right but not bread.”
“I’d be glad to.”
“I was lucky. I had Beans to do the cooking.” Rand passed the bowl of dandelion greens to McHenry.
“You know, Joel could learn to split shakes. I did it when I was his age.” Jacob smiled at his son.
“What about me?” Ada Mae sat up straighter.
“You sure your mother doesn’t need you at home?”
Ada Mae made a face. “She’s got Emily and Virginia. Joel and I picked all the dandelion greens and stacked wood. We’ll do the same at our house tomorrow, most likely.”
Jacob watched Opal taking care of Per while she ate, not taking part in the conversation. Not like his Opal at all. What can I do? Lord, what? How can I help her?
Per chattered away, only some of his noises real words, but he seemed to think they should all understand him. Opal made sure he ate, didn’t throw half his food down for Ghost, and kept him from flying out of his chair.
The next morning Jacob woke earlier than ever, dressed, and left the soddy where he and Joel lived. He saddled a horse and rode up the road and followed a cut up to the eastern butte to watch the sunrise. Breaking over the lip of the butte just as the sun creased the horizon, he stopped and dismounted, letting his horse graze while he admired the heavenly artist at work. “Lord, such magnificence. I will exalt your name and sing your praises throughout the earth. You are my God, and I praise you.” He sank to the ground, resting his arms on his raised knees, hearing the horse crunching the grass, the bit clanking, a snort.
Dew glittered as the sunbeams struck each drop of water, meadowlarks sang their morning arias, and Jacob breathed in new life. Did Opal ever see this, living in the valley
? He glanced over his shoulder to the treetops sticking above the butte lip, the greens of the grasses and prairie plants so many shades of green he couldn’t believe his eyes. Off across the prairie, the grass bent before the slight wind in shimmering grass waves. All around him, low to the ground, were blue blossoms, a field of reflected sky in miniature.
He mounted his horse, saluted the sun now fully climbing the sky bridge, and rode back down to the Robertson ranch. Time to get Joel up so he could milk the cow, unless Ada Mae had already done so.
Tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow I will bring Opal up there. “Thank you, Father. You answered my prayer.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“You want me to do what?” Opal stood on the back porch looking down at Jacob.
“Ride up to the butte for the sunrise. I’ve already asked Ada Mae and Joel if they want to come.” Jacob tipped his hat back on his head.
She shrugged. “I guess so. But I need to be back to help get breakfast on the table.” Her heart giggled for the joy of riding somewhere, anywhere, early in the morning.
“Good. Be at Robertsons’ early enough to get up there. You know where we held the cattle last year before that branch took me off the horse? That’s where I was this morning.”
“Should I bring anything?”
“No, we’ll come right down so I can eat and get started mowing again. I figure I should be done with the field here by today, if all goes well. I’ll take the mower over home tonight.”
“Where are Ada Mae and Joel?”
“Out with McHenry. He’s teaching them to split shakes for the roof of his house and barn. Mrs. Robertson sent along a dinner basket for all of them.”
“I need to go get Per out of trouble again.” She’d heard Ruby scolding him. Maybe it wasn’t just her. Per seemed to get his share of scolding too. Looked like she’d been right. Ruby must be in the family way again. She turned to watch Jacob stride down to the barn where he would check over the mower, fix any broken blades, oil it well, harness up the alternate team, and head on out. The other men were out raking and turning the first day’s cutting. By the day after tomorrow they’d be making haystacks.
She returned to the kitchen, where Ruby was washing dishes and Per was sitting in the rocking chair, whimpering. “So what did you do now, little guy?”
“He tried to pull the tablecloth off the table and got bopped on the head with a cup and saucer.” Ruby shook her head, then stretched her neck from one side to the other. She sighed when they heard Mary set up a squall. Mary went from placid to shrieking in two seconds, as if once she woke up and realized she was hungry, her mother better be there immediately. At least she’d slept through dinner today.
Opal picked Per up and took him to the rocker outside so that Ruby could nurse Mary sitting in the other rocker. “Come on, let’s rock.”
“ ’Ock?”
So you can fall asleep and take a nap, and we can all have some peace. Earlier he’d pulled Ghost’s ears until she yipped, and he’d been scolded for that. “Poor Per.”
“Po Pa.” He’d yet to learn how to say Per, although he had Pa down well. Rs were hard for him to pronounce. As soon as they sat down, he leaned against Opal and stuck his thumb and first finger into his mouth. She pushed the rocker with one foot and relaxed with the rhythm.
“Opa?”
She stroked the hair back from his forehead. “What?” She laid her cheek against the top of his head.
“Opa.” His voice slurred as he mumbled a few other syllables.
It took so little to help him go to sleep. She rocked a few minutes more, then slid her other arm under his bottom and stood. She paused a moment to watch his face, but he was sound asleep. After putting him in his bed, she left the room, closing the door behind her. Returning to the kitchen, which included the whole west side of the house, kitchen and parlor all in one big room, she saw that Ruby and Mary were sound asleep in the inside rocker.
Gently taking Mary from Ruby’s arms, Opal nodded at Ruby’s start. “I’m going to put her to bed, and you are going to put you to bed.”
“But I…”
The circles under Ruby’s eyes made Opal shake her head. “You nothing. I can do what needs to be done.” Even though I’d rather go weed the garden than bake for the crew.
Later that evening she looked up from the book she was reading. “Mr. Chandler invited me to go along with him and Joel and Ada Mae for a ride up to the butte to watch the sunrise in the morning.”
“Should be beautiful.” Ruby rubbed her forehead. “I think I’ll go on to bed.”
“I’ll be along soon.” Rand looked up from the leather bridle he was braiding. He had three long strips of tanned cowhide nailed to one end of a board and laid one over the other just like Ruby used to braid her sister’s hair.
“What are you making?”
“A new headstall. We need a couple new bridles. Think I’ll do this as a hackamore.”
“I noticed the harness is getting pretty worn in a couple of places.”
“You’d have thought I’d get all that kind of thing caught up in the winter, especially as housebound as we were this year.”
“Yes, but we spent half our time hauling wood and melting water.”
“True.”
Ask him. No, don’t be nosy. She marked her place with her finger. “Rand, is Ruby in the family way again?”
He looked up from his braiding. “If she is, she hasn’t told me.”
“She’s so crabby. Both times she was that way before, she was like this.”
“Might just be tired from having Mary and nursing her.” He paused to think. “She’s worried about you.”
“Me? Why?”
“The two of you wear matching circles under your eyes. You’ve been sad for so long now.”
Opal swallowed hard. This wasn’t the way she wanted the conversation to go. What’s there to be happy about? But she didn’t say it. “Think I’ll go on to bed if I’m going to go sunrise-seeing.”
“Good night.”
Wouldn’t Ruby know if she was pregnant again? She thought about that as she undressed and crawled under the sheet. The summer quilt now lay folded at the end of her bed, and her coyote quilt lay across the chest Rand had made for her to replace the trunks destroyed when Dove House burned. The lace curtains at her windows fluttered in the night breeze. She lay on her back and locked her hands behind her head. The feel of her braid reminded her that she’d not done her one hundred brush strokes for her hair every night for quite some time. Tonight she’d not even taken time to unbraid it and rebraid it loose for the night. She’d not read her Bible for some time either. Too tired. Just too tired. If Ruby felt as tired as she did, no wonder she was crabby.
Which brought up another thought. Was she crabby too? Is that what Rand meant?
How come Jacob was suddenly being so friendly again? Especially after acting like a stranger and not a friend. And Atticus. Where was he, and what was he doing? She rolled over on her side and sucked in a deep breath, then let it all out. There was more to life that was confusing than that made sense.
Night still reigned when she woke. What would Bay think of being whistled to in the darkness like this? She slid into her clothes, unbraided, brushed, and rebraided her hair. She didn’t need light to do any of that. Carrying her boots, she tiptoed down the hall to the kitchen. She needed to hurry. The eastern sky was beginning to lighten.
Within moments she was loping Bay up the road, not even bothering with a saddle. The cool wind in her hair, the cloppityclop of hooves, Bay snorting, pulling against the reins—it all felt good.
“I think you’ve missed being ridden as much as I’ve missed riding.” She patted her horse’s shoulder, wanting to hug it and the trees now coming alive from the shadows. The others met her at the road.
“Good morning.” She pulled the snorting Bay down to a walk.
“We better hurry, or we’ll miss it.” Jacob grinned at her, touching the brim of hi
s hat.
“Our cat had kittens last night,” Ada Mae announced, “in Virginia’s bed. She was some upset.”
Opal glanced over her shoulder. Ada Mae rode behind her, with Joel bringing up the rear. Jacob led the way up the cut. Strange for him to be leading the way. She was always the leader on horseback. But now he looked at home in the saddle, no longer a beginning rider. She smiled to herself. All three of them rode like the wranglers they’d become.
Bay dug in as the cut steepened, and Opal leaned forward to help her. She probably should have saddled up, but feeling the warmth of the horse’s hide through her pants, the ripple of muscles, the wonderful fragrance of horse still made her want to laugh out loud. Why had she waited so long?
Because Rand had told her not to ride out and see all the dead cattle.
So why didn’t I at least ride around the pasture? Because. Because. Because if I couldn’t ride where I wanted to, I didn’t want to ride at all. The thought burst on her brain as Bay crested the butte. Talk about dumb. What was the matter with me?
The other two came right behind her, and they lined up facing east as Jacob was. The horses were breathing hard, and one coughed, making Ada Mae giggle.
Opal breathed in the splendor of the rising day. Moment by moment the clouds brightened from purple gray to fire flung with abandon across the skies. The glowing brass rim emerged above the line where land met sky, and then rose in the daytime arc of warmth and life.
“Ohh.” Opal looked to Jacob, then back to the spectacle. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“No, but you brought me here.”
“God flung out this gift for us to enjoy.”
“True.” And He keeps on doing it. The thought made her lay back against Bay’s warm back. Even if I don’t appreciate it.
“Pa, can Ada Mae and me ride over to that tree?”
“If you want.” Jacob dismounted.
Opal swung her left leg over Bay’s rump and slid to the ground, sending tingles up her feet. She rested her cheek against Bay’s neck. “Thanks, old girl,” she whispered. I think I might want to live again.
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