I gasped for air, I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but the only words that came out of my mouth were, “Dear God." But Sam kept on talking, not noticing how the expression on my face had morphed from a smile into a scowl.
"My daughter, God bless her soul, has tried her best all these years, but it takes a strong young man like you to work beside me and keep this ranch going,” Sam said. Then he chuckled and continued. “I’m not a chauvinist, but Rachel has a small frame and working as a ranch hand is too hard on her. And besides, she has always dreamed of going off to the big city. Now it’s my turn to let her reach for her dreams.”
I felt like Sam had punched me in the gut. Since Rachel and I were getting along so well, I hadn't been so happy since I was in high school. I had come full circle with Rachel, and we were beginning to build a new relationship. But after what Sam just told me, I felt I was back to square one again. After taking a deep breath, I realized I loved Rachel and always had, so I wanted her to have the chance at her dream. After all, she had so unselfishly put aside her desires for the love of her father and their financial survival. Who was I to stand in her way?
"Well, what do you think?" Sam asked peering down at me.
“Thank you for the opportunity, Sam. I will be happy to take you up on your offer.” Then I gulped. “I enjoyed working with your daughter but now look forward to working with you!”
Sam uncrossed his arms and stood up straight. There was a sly grin on his face when he shook my hand. "It's a deal then."
I needed some fresh air to process my new situation, so I turned and started walking toward the front door, headed for my truck. "Oh, and I heard you've been working with Licorice, Sam said, causing me to stop and turn back to him. “Maybe in six months or so, we'll see how you do here at the Cody Stampede before we sign you up for Greeley.”
I felt my eyes get wide at the chance of getting back into rodeoing, and I turned around to face Sam. But before I could speak, Rachel came running toward us, wide-eyed and breathless. She first glanced over at her father and then at me. “Fancy’s down…she’s in labor and struggling.”
I grabbed Sam by the arm to help him walk as fast as he could, and when we got to the kitchen, Sally was preparing dinner. Sam hollered over his shoulder, keeping in step with me. “Sally, call Dr. Rogers and let him know, Fancy’s having a dystocia birth! We need him right away!”
When we arrived and opened the stall, poor Fancy was laying on her side with her hindquarter surrounded by a pool of bright, red blood. Rachel had her hand on Fancy’s flank, and she was squatted down beside her, assessing the situation. Rachel’s voice quivered when she said, “Daddy, the placenta is coming first. It’s bulging out of her vulva.”
Sam let go of my arm. “Let me have a look!” He said. I was right behind him. We could see the foal was stuck inside the placenta which appeared to be thick and tougher than I had seen before. Something had to be done immediately! There was no question, Fancy and her baby was in grave danger.
Sam looked over at Rachel, and said, “Sally’s called the vet; he’ll be here soon. I’ve been breeding horses for years and this happens occasionally, but usually, we can tell ahead of time the mare will have trouble, so the vet is usually here by this time.” Then he patted Fancy on her side and shook his head.
Rachel put her hands on her hips for a moment then turned and grabbed Sam’s arm. “We have to cut the sack and pull the baby out or we’ll lose both of them. I was just starting to read about complications with birthing today.”
Sam nodded and turned to me. “Kent go into the feed room and bring out the shears — the ones we use to cut the rope off the hay bales.”
“Yes, sir,” I said and ran to complete my errand. When I got back, Rachel had positioned herself on her knees behind the mare. When I handed her the shears, she looked up at me with wide eyes, but she was surrounded by an air of confidence.
Sam leaned over so he could see. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his Swiss Army knife. He opened out the smallest blade and handed it to Rachel. “Now, poke a hole in the sack. Gently very gently…All you need is a hole large enough to work the shears in.”
Rachel did as she was told. Water and blood gushed out, and the mare began to struggle to stand up. I rushed to her head and held it down. When I began patting her neck, she relaxed a bit. Then Fancy's ears perked up to listen when I said, “Hang on, mama. Rachel’s been studying, and she knows what to do.”
Sam took hold of Fancy’s tail and pulled it aside so Rachel could see what she was doing. Just after she opened a long slit in the sack with the shears, Sam looked down at his daughter, and said “Pull open the sack…Can you see the feet?”
“Only one.” Rachel scowled.
I could see Fancy was having another contraction as the sides of her abdomen stiffened and it seemed like she was trying to bear down. She was starting to sweat and took several deep breaths — the mare was almost exhausted. Fancy raised her head and looked toward Rachel and Sam then her big brown eyes peered at me. I could tell Fancy was asking for my help. So I stood up and looked at Rachel. “Look out! Let me in there.”
Rachel and Sam stepped back, giving me room as I sat on my butt and put my feet against Fancy’s hindquarters, one on each side of her tail. I rolled up my sleeve and pushed my hand inside, almost up to my elbow, and grabbed hold of a tiny hoof. I could see it was white, just like Fancy’s. I waited for a sign that another contraction was starting, and when I felt the pressure I said, “Okay, Fancy, my lady, we’re going to have this baby.”
I heard Rachel start and Sam join in as they yelled with each contraction. “Come on girl…push…push…push!”
Rachel and Sam stroked the mare’s flank while I pulled first on one leg, then when the second appeared, I grasped it, too. By that time my legs were straight as my feet pressed against Fancy’s rump. All of a sudden there was a swishing sound and out plopped a beautiful pinto colt. Rachel ran to get a feedbag and started wiping the colt off — massaging it, making sure it was breathing. Sam went around in front and encouraged Fancy to rise to her feet. As soon as she stood, we could tell Fancy hadn’t injured her hips during the delivery. That’s when I said, “Oh, look; it’s a little filly.”
Moments later Fancy was nuzzling at her baby, and we heard a voice holler, “Sam…where are you?” It was Doctor Rogers coming through the stable door.
All three of us watched in wonder as the vet examined the foal, still curled out on top of the wood chips, and then he turned his attention to Fancy. We were all high-fived each other when the doctor congratulated us. “If Fancy had gone unattended much longer, I’m sure you would have been facing a tragedy instead of a celebration. The placenta was abnormal.”
I stayed around an hour or so celebrating with Rachel and Sam. Even Sally came out to the stable and brought us some sandwiches and a few bottles of beer. Then Rachel snapped a few pictures on her iPhone that Sam wanted to put up on their website. But neither Rachel or I mentioned our previous plans since it was already late in the evening. After she hugged me goodnight right in front of everyone, I got in my truck and headed toward Meeteetse.
I felt conflicted yet proud of my decision to stay and help Sam, even though I wondered why that each time I believed I had a future with Rachel something unexpected drove us apart. I let out a sigh and slammed my hand on the steering. “It must be our destiny,” I said to myself. “No need to fight it any longer.”
Chapter 15
Rachel
I closed my laptop and placed it inside my carry-on bag, then coiled the cord around the palm of my hand. I checked my closet one last time, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, and my eyes began to sting. I squinted them together and scrunched up my nose, trying to chase the tears away, shaking my head in disbelieve. After all these years I was finally going to live my dream, but now I was having second thoughts. I walked over and flopped down on my bed. It had been two weeks since the night Fancy had her baby — and thirt
een days since Daddy had given me the good news at the breakfast table that morning.
****
"Good morning, Daddy. Have you been out to check on Fancy yet?" I had asked before glanced up at the kitchen clock, noting Kent would be arrived in about thirty minutes. As I poured myself a cup of coffee, my cheeks felt flushed at the thought of rescheduling our date.
"Good morning, sweetie. How about you refill my cup while I go get a letter that I want you to read," Daddy said, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. When he came back, he laid the letter upside down, making sure I couldn't see the return address. Then he pulled up his chair and waited for my undivided attention.
I felt my heart skip a beat. I couldn't imagine what Daddy's surprise was. If I had to guess, though, it was more good news about his test results. He reached across the table and took my hands. As he spoke, his eyes got wet. "Rachel, I'm so proud of you on so many levels. You have put your life on hold to tend to me — without a whimper." He paused a moment and cleared his throat before he continued. "You've worked your fingers to the bone to keep bread on our table. But God has seen fit to put my illness in remission — I'm getting stronger and stronger each day. I’ve decided to hire Kent as head ranch hand. I believe soon I’ll be able to take over the rest of the business.”
I squeezed his hands, and said, "I'm so happy that you’re better and can enjoy life again. I've been so worried about you. I can see now how well you're feeling. I love you, Daddy and —”
He let go of my hands and pulled his white handkerchief out of his pocket. "Wait a minute I'm not done yet," he said. After he wiped his nose, he reached down, turned over the letter and held it out to me. “This is from Barnard College in New York City.” He paused as I took it from his hand, but all I could do was peer down in shock, wondering what Daddy was up to. Then he leaned closer with a big grin, and said, "Well, go ahead and open it!"
I gasped and put one hand over my mouth. As I read the new acceptance letter, my heart was beating like crazy, and my head felt light and dizzy. I ran over to Daddy and threw my arm around him, and whispered into his ear, "You have made my dream come true — how did you do it?"
I sat down beside him as he explained that after seeing what a great job Kent was doing he wrote the dean of admissions at the college and explained my situation. He believed the new medication was helping him regain his strength and endurance. "I'm anxious to get back in the saddle — literally and figuratively!"
I was bubbling with joy and enthusiasm, and for a moment dying to share the good news with Kent. Then like I had pricked my finger, I jerked. Something told me to be careful; Kent may see my new opportunity as history repeating itself and revert to his brooding dark mood.
When I had asked Daddy, he assured me that Kent knew all about it and was grateful for his promotion. Of course, Kent would put on a brave face in front of his boss — a man! But his reaction to me when we were alone may be entirely different.
That morning after Daddy and I had finished our breakfast I waited out front for Kent. It wasn't long, like any other day, before I saw Kent's red truck turn into the driveway. But I could tell by the scowl on his face even before he got out of the truck that he wasn't the happy-go-lucky Kent I was used to seeing.
He glanced up at me and gave me a weak smile before slamming the door. "Good morning, Rachel," he said like I was just his co-worker and he was reporting for work. Instead of waiting for me to step off the porch and walk toward the stable with him — our morning ritual — he went on without me. His face was expressionless when I called out, "Kent, can we talk for a moment?"
“I have work to do. I have to clean up Fancy's stall,” Kent said and rushed toward the stable.
I followed, and with desperation in my voice, I said, "Kent, I know you know. Daddy told me." Kent nodded his head but didn’t turn to face me. After all, our relationship had blossomed, and I was falling deeply in love with him. So I ran up and tugged on his arm, desperate to break through his darkness so we could talk things out together.
"Okay, that's great. Best of luck to you," Kent said and pulled his arm away.
I reached for his hand, but he yanked it away, too. "Can we talk about this, please? Don’t let history repeat itself! Stop acting like you did at graduation,” I pleaded.
At the mention of our graduation, Kent stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me. At first, his green eyes burned into mine, and then he looked away. He paused for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s nothing to discuss here. You’re going to New York. You’re going to college. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”
“Yes, it was, but things have changed over the years,” I said in a softer voice, trying not to cry.
He arched his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips. “How have things changed, Rachel? You don’t want to go to college anymore?” he asked, his voice harsh and rude. I cowered and pulled away.
“No, I’ve always dreamed of this, but now…”
Kent clenched his jaws and jammed his hands into his jean’s pockets. “Good, then best of luck in New York, and I hope you achieve everything you’ve ever hoped for." Then he paused and cleared his throat and made an effort to sound a bit kinder. "Look, Rachel, it’s our destiny. You need to go on. I wish you well."
****
I was zipping my suitcase shut when I heard Daddy hollering from the foot of the stairs. “You ready? We need to leave for the airport in about fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, I’ll be right down,” I said, as I buckled the strap of my carry-on bag so it could piggy-back on top of my large suitcase. Last week I had shipped most of my winter clothing to the dormitory. The dean assured me my packages would be waiting when I arrived for orientation.
When I got downstairs, Sally and Daddy helped me with my bags. I was glad she had decided to stay on to cook and clean. Even though Daddy no longer needed a nurse, they seemed to have become close friends. After I double-checked that I had everything — bags, purse, phone, and of course, my the receipt for my e-ticket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kent standing in the shadow inside the stable. I hurriedly said, "Oh, wait I want to tell Georgie-B goodbye and check one last time on the others.” I wanted a goodbye kiss from Kent. I needed to touch him — give him another chance to beg me to stay.
As I entered the stable Kent stepped out of the shadows and tipped his hat. "Best of luck Rachel." Then he turned and opened the door to Licorice's stall and closed it behind him.
Inside the car, I felt like a first grader getting on the school bus for the very first time. Pressing my face close to the window, I watched Pitchfork Ranch disappear behind us. I swallowed hard and wondered what adventure lay ahead. But for some reason, I didn't feel as excited as I would have if I had been eighteen. Life had washed away the naïveté of my youth.
I heard Daddy and Sally chatting away, telling me how they looked forward to visiting in a month or two, but all I could think about was Kent. I felt we had blown our second chance to be together. And I wondered if Kent was secretly happy I was leaving. Perhaps all he really wanted was to get me to sleep with him in the first place. Tears started running down my cheeks, and I accidentally whispered, "He wouldn't even kiss me goodbye."
Daddy looked up into the rearview mirror. "Are you all right back there,” He asked. “I know it's sad leaving home for the first time. I’ll miss you! But you'll be fine in a few days." I wasn't sure who Daddy was trying to convince, him or me.
Chapter 16
Kent
It had been three long weeks since Rachel had come to tell me goodbye. After I was sure she couldn't see me, I watched Sam's van disappear over the hill going toward Cody. I had totally been fucked over. Every time I thought about Rachel, I came up with the same questions. Did she put her dreams ahead of our relationship? Or was it our destiny not to be together?
My pity party was in full swing when two days later Sam moseyed up and asked what I thought about moving my fifth- wheeler permanently to the
ranch. At first, I wondered why, out of the blue, Sam would make such an offer, but moments later he answered my question. "I've been watching you for several weeks now and see you have a God-given gift for training horses." Then he took off his Stetson and scratched his head. "Maybe you're one of those horse whisperers like in the movies?”
We both laughed and my angry mood lifted. There was something about Sam that reminded me of Rachel. When I was around him, I felt less angry, and my PTSD seemed to melt away. After considering for a moment, I decided it was his smile, and I realized how feeling bitter wasn’t the answer.
So I nodded my head, and said, "Sounds like a plan to me."
Within two days Sam had a cement truck backed up between two Hawthorne trees at the far side of the stable, pouring a slab for my trailer. Three days later I was a permanent resident of Pitchfork Ranch, with my own water and electrical hook-ups. I even had satellite TV.
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