Fateful Waters

by Jackie Anton

  He was at a loss. How was he supposed to deal with her? She was obviously still upset. As he approached her, she lifted mistrustful, tearstained eyes in his direction. “Are you ready for our morning ride, Lex?”

  “I really don’t feel up to it this morning.”

  “Well, I reckon we can find something else to do this morning. I’m kind of beat myself. We could take a long nap or whatever, instead.”

  She jumped up like someone had scalded her, mumbling about going in to put her boots on.

  “I’ll take Skip with me, and saddle up the horses while you get ready.”

  She didn’t even acknowledge him; like a wraith, she just faded into the house. He saddled Blue for her then brought Rowdy out. Both horses were tacked up, and ready to begin their day when she finally showed up. Dressed much like the day before with a navy ball cap as head protection, jeans, a print western shirt, and rough-out boots, this morning she’d also added a denim jacket. The addition of the jacket seemed out of place; it was cooler yesterday morning, and neither of the women had bothered with a jacket. She took up Blue’s reins and looked around.

  “Where’s Skip, Cutter?”

  “He’s spending the day with Sam. It wouldn’t be a good idea to take him where we are going.”

  She didn’t argue or even question where they were going. He figured she didn’t care as long as she had some space to maneuver should he get aggressive. She lagged a good horse length behind Rowdy, and whenever he slowed his stallion for her to catch up, she slowed Blue keeping the distance between them.

  The next two hours passed in a like manner. To say his wife was avoiding him would have been an extreme understatement.

  He’d intended to prepare her for the sight of the emaciated herd being quarantined on the eastern border of the ranch, but her refusal to even get near enough for a conversation made that courtesy impossible.

  Lexie was making the best of a painful ride. Her right wrist and arm were on fire. Fortunately, Blue guided well from leg and seat cues, and all he had to do was follow the horse in front of him. It was awkward attempting support her right arm with her left while trying to guide her horse with that lone functioning hand. Her future looked as bleak as the sepia landscape that stretched as far as the eye could see. Ink spots appeared before her eyes. At first she thought the spotty vision was due to gazing into the rising sun, or the full force of pain working on her. The ibuprofen she’d taken before leaving was well worn off, but the spots grew larger. Soon they took on the forms of cattle and a couple of horsemen.

  Her already queasy insides pitched, and bile rose as the pathetic cows came in to view. Every bone was visible on many, while others looked a little better, but hipbones, shoulders, and spinal columns were still prominent. A Rocking R stock truck pulled up as they approached. Three men she didn’t know lowered a ramp, and began to push, pull, and prod five more skeletons covered in cowhide down the ramp to join the rest of the herd. Lexie didn’t know any more about beef cattle now than she did in June when she almost ran over one of them on the road, but these looked a lot different to her. It was more than their sad condition. To her they looked like a different breed.

  The reason for this morning’s torture became apparent to her when they rode close enough to see the Lazy K brand on their hips. Her sadist husband must think the shock value of the scene would loosen her tongue about what she knew of the status of their nearest neighbor to the east, but it wasn’t her story to tell.

  19

  The endless tears were eroding her naïve optimism regarding the longevity of marital bliss, and were bound to leave deep grooves in her face. She really thought they had something special, and that their love could withstand life’s roadblocks. Pathetic starving cattle weren’t enough for Cutter. Oh, no. He had a point to make, so they rode on to the Lazy K.

  Lexie had seen the photos of the dead and nearly dead cattle taken at the dry riverbed, but seeing them for real was more than she could handle. The bleached bones of the small calves were the worst. Before she could lose whatever was left in her stomach, she wheeled Blue one hundred and eighty degrees, taking off the way they had come. Cutter tried to explain to her about how he came on the river of bones, but she’d already reached well beyond her threshold for abuse, both mental and physical. Her ears were deaf to his excuses for the latest assault on her. Jim and Pete delivering a pickup load of hay to the emaciated herd delayed Cutter; she kept on going. Lexie made excellent use of her head start and Blue’s ground-eating gallop. Every stride shot pain up her right arm and penetrated every fiber of her being.

  Lexie dismounted; more aptly, she nearly fell from her horse. She avoided disaster by latching on to the saddle horn with her left hand, and managed to wrench that wrist in the process. After her less than graceful decent to the ground, she walked her horse the last half-mile. Lexie didn’t have the strength to loosen Blue’s girth. Still, he was breathing normally, and was cool when she traded him with Sam for her dog.

  By the time Cutter arrived in the wake of the bane of his once peaceful existence, Lexie was gone again. He questioned Maria. “Did my wife tell you where she was going?”

  “No, Cutter, she came in, gathered her purse and her dog, then left. She doesn’t talk to me—ever.”

  Cutter was aggravated that Lexie had managed to make another escape before he could fully explain about the morning ride and the disclosure of the rescued Lazy K stock. “Well, Maria, it appears Lexie can hold a grudge, and is unlikely to forget insults or bad behavior from anyone.”

  He figured that she went to town to get away from him or to have lunch there again. But when he returned to the barn to take care of his stallion, Sam asked him if his wife had been thrown or had sustained an accident with Blue.

  “Not as far as I know, but she kept going when I got waylaid by Jim and Pete. Why?”

  “She led him back and left him with me. I noticed she was holding her arm at a strange angle and limping. Mrs. Ross said she hadn’t had any problem with the horse. Then she told me, ‘I am just tired, and out of my mind for returning to this God forsaken place.’ I swear, Cutter, those were her exact words. I took care of Blue, but I heard her vehicle roar out of the drive a short time later.”

  Cutter was concerned about Sam’s description of his wife’s condition, but was relieved when he checked to find she hadn’t packed her laptop or any of her clothing. He hoped she was just avoiding him and cooling off her explosive temper. He intended to tear Lubbock apart looking for her if she wasn’t back by dinner.

  He wished once again that he could get his hands on Sophie’s grandson. Decker’s blatant disregard for the consequences of his actions, were spilling over onto the Rocking R and into Cutter’s rocky new marriage. He hoped that Booker came through with the legal owners of the cattle now recuperating on the eastern border of the ranch. He was worried about the legalities of removing someone else’s cattle from their property, even if it was to keep them from starving to death. It could easily be construed as rustling.

  Lexie used her maiden name when she signed in at the walk in-clinic, but it was barely legible even though she printed. Unable to use her right hand, she tried her less-damaged left, and was amazed at how difficult it was to accomplish the small task. Fortunately, all of her identification was still in her own name. She thought about the relief she felt at using the Parker name, am I ready to call it quits after only four days?

  She was mortified. The x-rays and the procedure that involved placing the cast on her right arm weren’t bad, but the female doctor insisted on a complete examination when she saw the obvious finger-shaped marks on her wrists. The discovery of bruises in some intimate places caused the doctor to check her internally. Then, the doctor wanted to know if she wanted to press charges. She was in such a hurry to shower and talk to her departing mother that she hadn’t bothered to take inventory of the nagging aches and pains. Lexie was more shocked than the doctor at her condition. She’d been ouchy for days following their b
rief honeymoon, so, like then she chalked it up to her inexperience and their size disparity. She wondered if she should just keep on going until she got to Ohio. How many times had she urged friends to get out of an abusive relationship? Was she now in one of them? Had he purposely tried to hurt her?

  The pros and cons of returning to the ranch bounced around in her mind while she and Skip shared lunch at a table set outside a burger joint. She placed a call to Mel while she was waiting for the doctor to read the x-rays, but her phone went unanswered and just rolled over to voice mail. Mel returned the call while they munched on their burgers and fries.

  “Hi, Lexie! Sorry I didn’t get back to you quicker. Dad and I went to the airport to pick up Booker and your mom. My phone was almost dead, so I left it on the charger. How is married life out on the open range?”

  “Things aren’t going well at all. Cutter is really worked up about the fire at Decker’s old place. The reason he came back here so fast was that one of his hands had been arrested on suspicion of arson, and because of the potential of the fire spreading to his ranch. Mom blurted out that I had contacted Booker while he was here, and the fact that we had lunch with him while she and I were in town. He has been pissed because I won’t tell him what is going on. He was drinking last night and we got into a huge battle of wills. I punched him and fractured my damned arm, so I came to town to get it set. I called you while I was at the clinic.”

  “Is Cutter there with you?”

  “No. Just me and Skip.”

  “You mean he let you drive yourself with a broken arm?”

  “Not exactly. He doesn’t know about it, and I don’t think he really cares about that anyway. All he cares about is exercising his marital rights, and interrogating me about the goings on at the other ranch. To say the least, if I had any idea what life here was going to be like, I would still be in Ohio.”

  “That doesn’t sound like him, Lexie.”

  “Oh, he is Sir Galahad as long as he has things his way.”

  “Has he reneged on any of his pre-nup agreements with you?”

  “No. Not yet, but I have only been back here four days.”

  “God, Lexie, just tell him what is going on. Don’t mess up your chances at happiness because I made a stupid choice.”

  “I may not have any choice in the matter for the moment. I don’t think that I can make the trip home in my current condition. But you better believe that I am going to keep Skip close from now on.”

  Cutter was beginning to pace the confines of the ranch office. Where the hell is she? Maybe she already left my sorry ass, and is halfway back to Ohio. His thoughts were running rampant; each time he tried to reach her by phone it rolled over to voice mail. Dinner hour was quickly approaching, and he didn’t have a clue where his wife was. A minor mishap with Pete’s beater truck distracted him for a couple of hours. By the time he finished helping with repairs on the old beater, her Suburban was back in its usual spot near the house parked next to his Yukon.

  She wasn’t in their room, but he decided to take a shower to calm his frayed nerves before he sought her out. He hadn’t realized how tense he was until it flowed from his body along with a deep sigh of relief at her return. Now, if he could just wash the rest of his frustration and residual anger down the drain.

  Daniel’s trepidation on bearding the lion was trivial compared to the knots in his stomach. The lock on the hall door of the adjoining room her mother had just vacated that morning was engaged. Skip sat up, alert, tracking his approach through the connecting bath. His elusive wife was sprawled across the bed with her grandmother’s quilt covering her petite form. He spoke her name softly. She was so deep in sleep, she didn’t respond. He sat on the side of the bed, but was distracted by a prescription on the nightstand. Vicodin? No wonder she was unresponsive; an unfamiliar doctor had issued the order for the drug. He gently shook her shoulder.

  “Lex, come on, wake up.”

  She thought she heard his voice, but was having trouble leaving the peaceful void she was experiencing. Someone was shaking her and demanding she wake. When it finally penetrated her snug little cocoon that Cutter had his hands on her, she bolted upright. The protective insulation of the quilt and dreamless sleep vanished to be replaced with harsh reality.

  Cutter felt like an ogre when he saw the panic in her blue eyes. She tried to scoot away from him, but was hampered not only by the quilt now around her legs but a cast from wrist to elbow on her right arm. He didn’t want to upset her more so he tabled the discussion he really intended to have with her.

  “It is dinner time.”

  “I’m not hungry, Cutter.”

  “You didn’t have breakfast. Did you eat lunch?”

  “Skip and I had a burger in town.”

  “Ten minutes, Lex. If you aren’t at the dining table, I will come back and carry you to the dining room. Do you need help getting out of that bed?”

  No response. She just shook her head indicating she didn’t need his assistance. It was obvious to him that she wasn’t going to make a move until he vacated the room. She used every minute of the ten he had given her before she appeared at the dinner table.

  Lexie didn’t know how she was going to accomplish a meal; the finger food at lunch had proved to be an ordeal. Now what was he up to? Like some kind of a Galahad he pulled out her chair and seated her at the table. Just her luck! Here she thought she found the love of her life, and the man was either bipolar or plagued by a multiple personality disorder. She decided there was a lot to be said in favor of long engagements. She managed to take a few swallows of tea manipulating the large glass with her left hand. It was a relief when he left the table to enter the cook’s sanctuary; he’d been watching her like he expected her to dump the glass in her lap, or all over the table.

  The truth was Cutter had no idea how badly his wife was incapacitated, or how she had gotten that way. He had to subdue her last night in self-defense, but he was relatively sure he hadn’t hurt her. Cutter found what he was looking for, and left instructions for Maria in serving the dinner.

  He was back. Before regaining his seat at the table, he placed a flex straw in her glass. It looked very much like the kind of straw she’d used when she woke up in the hospital. Dinner turned out to be more of a quandary for her than just the battle of manipulating a knife and fork essentially one-handed. As usual, Maria served Cutter first, but that was where the usual went south of the border. He cut his steak into small bite size pieces, peeled his baked potato, buttered a hard roll, and then set the plate in front of her. She thought she had his number, and now he was messing with her mind. Good manners required she acknowledge him.

  “Thank you.”

  Jim had joined them, and looked horrified at her condition. “Sam told me he thought you were thrown this morning, and got hurt. I got tossed once, and was laid up for months. So, you got off lucky. Maybe you should ride old Blaze next time?”

  It looked like poor Blue was getting the blame for her injuries. Rather than manufacturing a complete fabrication, or admitting the facts she let his comments pass. “I’ll give it some thought, Jim, but I don’t think I’ll be riding anything for a while.”

  She absently gave her dog some of the huge steak, and had the pleasure of hearing Maria growl under her breath, so she threw him two more bites and glared back at her. The Vicodin was wearing off, and the returning pain was not helping her disposition. She excused herself and began to rise, only to be assisted by the considerate man she had married. However, she now knew the other dominate aggressor was in there too.

  Skip followed her down the hall, and by the time she was able to fill her glass at the bathroom sink Cutter was there too. She gave him a wide berth and picked up the prescription bottle, but the child-safe cap was thwarting her. He took the pill container from her grip and twisted it open, shaking one of the wondrous pills into her palm.

  “Let’s have our desert in the office where we can have some privacy.”

  Lexi
e figured she didn’t have much choice. She knew when she’d made the decision to return that afternoon an interrogation was inevitable, but she was keeping Skip with her. When she entered her former workspace, she saw a fresh glass of tea complete with straw on the modest-sized table, flanked by a new a pair of upholstered armchairs in a light tan fabric. She chose the seat near the glass of tea. She was beginning to feel somewhat better.

  “Did Blue dump you after you left me in the dust?”

  “No. He was a sweetheart. I was barely able to hold on to the reins, and only had the use of leg aids to guide him. The longer we rode the worse my arm got.”

  “So, your arm was already injured?”

  “Gee, Cutter, you’re really quick on the uptake.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

  “I did when you first suggested the ride.”

  “The hell you did! You just said you weren’t feeling up to it, and I thought you were just trying to avoid me.”

  “Well…there was that, too.”

  “Look, Lex, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to keep you from punching my lights out.”

  “You didn’t fracture my arm; if you had, I would be well on my way home by now, regardless of the difficulty of driving in this condition. I was off balance when I struck out at you, and my arm took the brunt of it. The sprain in my left wrist resulted when I slipped dismounting and reached for the horn to steady myself.”