Soiled Dove

by Brenda Adcock

  “Don’t matter,” Clare said as they climbed onto the corral railing. “I figure you and me can do two of them and leave the other two for whichever hand loses the draw after they get in from watching the herd. That way we all get an equal butt-bustin’.”

  “You and me gettin’ too old for breakin’ horses, Clare. Leave it to the hands.”

  “Speak for yourself, old man.” Clare turned her head and winked at him. “Besides, if you’re still man enough to handle a frisky young filly like Mavis, I reckon you can handle one of these ponies.”

  “But Miss Mavis is a much smoother ride,” Ino said with a grin.

  “Well, talkin’ ain’t gettin’ it done,” Clare said with a sigh and slid off the fence. She strolled casually toward the sorrel, speaking softly as she approached. Ino held the bridle while Clare took the reins in her hand and moved to the horse’s left side.

  She placed her left hand on the saddle horn and tested the cinch on the saddle before placing her left foot in the stirrup. She pulled her body up and held her weight in the stirrup for a moment before swinging her right leg over the horse’s back and settling in the saddle. “Let him go,” she said in an even voice and prepared for the horse’s reaction. Initially nothing happened, but then she moved the reins and gripped them tightly, pulling back slightly and clamping her thighs firmly against the saddle. Ino backed away, anticipating the horse’s response. Within seconds the horse launched itself into a twisting, bucking attempt to dislodge the rider on his back. When the action began, Ino scurried back to the fence and jumped on it to watch. Clare was a good rider, but he knew eventually she would wind up on her back in the dirt.

  She hung on and stayed in the saddle until the animal bucked close to the corral fence, jamming her right leg and side into a cross beam and post. Stunned, she hit the ground, landing on her face. She caught her breath and shook her head as she started to stand.

  “Look out!” Ino hollered.

  Before she could make another move, the sorrel was rearing up over her. It brought its front hooves down, striking her with a glancing yet powerful blow as she tried to roll away. Ino raced across the corral and waved the animal off. Once the horse moved away Ino knelt down beside Clare.

  “Clare! Clare!”

  The only response he received was a sharp grunt.

  He tried to pull her up, but she fell back to the ground with a loud groan.

  “You okay?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  Clare’s eyes finally blinked open and she squinted up at her foreman. “Help me up,” she rasped.

  She gritted her teeth as Ino helped her to a sitting position. She pressed her hand against her abdomen just below her right breast. She tried to take a deeper breath, but couldn’t. She saw blood on her hand as she pulled it away. “Broke ribs, I think,” she managed between shallow breaths.

  “I’ll get the buckboard ready and take you to the doc.” Ino placed his hands under Clare’s arms and lifted her to her feet. “You’re bleedin’. Let’s get you out of the corral.”

  Clare struggled to drape her left arm over Ino’s shoulder as he half-dragged, half-carried her toward the gate.

  LORETTA WAS SETTING a plate in front of a lunch customer near the front window of Rosario’s café when she noticed a buckboard being drawn to a fast halt in front of the doctor’s office a block down on the main road of Trinidad, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process. Loretta made sure her customer had everything he needed before she moved closer to the window and watched a cowboy jump from the buckboard seat and run into the doctor’s office.

  Moments later Ino and the doctor dashed from the office toward the back of the buckboard and began helping someone out. A breeze had carried away the dust cloud temporarily and Loretta recognized the grimacing face of Clare McIlhenney. She moved with difficulty and had to be lifted onto the walkway by the two men.

  Nearly an hour later business at the café dwindled down to only one customer. Rosario handed Loretta a covered tray to take to Willis and the girls in the saloon. When Loretta appeared at the bar of the saloon she was descended upon by people who acted as if they hadn’t eaten in a week. They began devouring Rosario’s cooking, which Loretta had to admit was wonderful, emitting sounds of pleasure as they chewed.

  The doors to the saloon swung open and Ino strode into the bar. He slapped his hand on the polished wood and held up two fingers. Willis wiped his mouth and poured the drink, setting it in front of the vaquero.

  “Didn’t expect to see you in town again so soon,”

  Willis said.

  “Didn’t expect to be,” Ino answered before he threw the drink back and swallowed. “Clare’s hurt,”

  he added.

  Immediately Mavis and Peg joined Ino, carrying their plates with them. “What happened, sugar?”

  Mavis said as she shoved the plate in front of him.

  Ino shoveled a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

  “We was breakin’ some horses and one of ‘em got her pretty good.” He chewed and washed his food down with a mug of beer Willis set in front of him. “Got a deep cut on her stomach and doc said she’s got some broke ribs. He wants to keep her in town until tomorrow.”

  “I’ll bet she ain’t takin’ that gracefully,” Peg said with a laugh.

  “Did he have to tie her down?” Mavis asked.

  “Damn near. She’s too bruised up to put up much of a fight right now though. He gave her something for the pain and it knocked her right out…for now.”

  “You staying in town until you can get her home?”

  Mavis continued.

  “Doc says maybe she can go back to the ranch tomorrow, but can’t do nothing for a while.”

  “Better you than me, amigo. You know she’ll ignore what the doc says unless she’s half-dead,”

  Willis said. He turned around and saw Loretta waiting to take their plates back to Rosario. “Tell Rosario she’ll need to fix up a plate to take to the doc’s this evening, will ya?”

  THE SUN FELL behind the roofs of the taller buildings in town, leaving a reddish-orange haze still filtering through the dust along Main Street. Loretta stepped out of the café and pulled the door closed behind her. A white cloth covered the tray in her hands and she placed a hand over it to prevent it from being blown by a light breeze. She crossed the street quickly toward the doctor’s office. The hand-painted sign hanging next to the front door read: Samuel Wayne, M.D.

  Loretta stepped inside and closed the door quietly. A low desk sat inside the door and four high-backed chairs lined the walls. Other than that meager furniture, the room was Spartan, but appeared clean.

  “Hello?” she called. “Is anyone here?”

  A moment later a tall man with a beard cut close to his face entered from a back room, drying his hands on a white towel. He smiled when he saw Loretta and the look on his face was friendly. He wore brown pants with a faint stripe running the length of his legs and a brocade vest over a cream shirt, tied at the neck with a loose, loopy bow.

  “Can I help you, miss?”

  “I’ve brought food from the café for your patient and a bowl for you as well,” she answered. When he looked at her curiously, she added, “It’s stew. Rosario said it would cure anyone.”

  “I’ve had it before and she’s right. It’s very nourishing as well as tasty.” He reached to take the tray, but Loretta continued to hold it.

  “Why don’t you enjoy your meal while it’s still hot? I can assist your patient,” Loretta said.

  “That’s very kind of you. However, I can assure you my patient may be a little disagreeable.”

  “Pain can cause one to be that way,” Loretta said as she set a bowl, bread, utensils, and a napkin on the desk.

  Wayne shook his head and smiled. “Disagreeable is more of a natural condition for Clare.”

  While the doctor sat to eat, Loretta carried the remaining meal into the back room. The room was semi-dark with only a small lamp burning next to a bed in t
he far corner. The curtains were pulled shut.

  Loretta walked quietly toward the bed and set the tray on a small table next to it. The woman lying under the cover looked pale and fragile, nothing like the woman Loretta had last seen nearly a month before. A sheet was tucked neatly under her arms.

  Her hair was brushed away from her face and rested on the pillow beneath her head. She appeared to be resting and Loretta was torn as to whether to awaken her.“What do you want?” a voice asked as Loretta prepared to leave.

  Dark eyes met hers when she turned around. “I’ve brought you something to eat. Rosario sent some stew,” Loretta whispered in the semi-darkness.

  “I’m not hungry. Take it away,” Clare said, turning her head to face the wall. “And there ain’t no need to whisper.”

  “If you don’t eat and rebuild your strength the doctor may not let you return home tomorrow,”

  Loretta said. “I can’t imagine you’d enjoy staying here longer. I can feed you if you’d like.”

  “I don’t need anyone’s help. I can take care of myself. Just leave it if you insist.”

  “Let me at least help you sit up a little so you don’t drown from the broth.”

  Clare glared at Loretta as if the look would frighten the younger woman away.

  Loretta lowered her voice and leaned down. “No one will ever know you needed help. It will be our secret. I will simply hold the spoon and let you do the hard work, like chewing and swallowing. Or I can go get your man and let him feed you.”

  Clare fought to stop the smile which threatened her lips. “My man? I ain’t got, or need, no man.” She cleared her throat. Before she could speak again Loretta slid an arm under her shoulders and pulled Clare’s upper body up. She grabbed a pillow and slid it behind Clare’s back before lowering her carefully onto it, leaving her propped up enough to eat. She tucked a napkin under Clare’s chin and held the bowl close to the patient’s mouth, dipping a spoon into the broth of the stew. Clare opened her mouth and felt the hot liquid flow into her mouth.

  After several spoonfuls of broth, Loretta asked,

  “Would you like something more solid now?” Too curious to keep her mouth shut, Loretta said, “The storekeeper at the dry goods store seems to think you’re married to Mr. Valdez.”

  Loretta captured a chunk of potato in the spoon and offered it to Clare. Halfway through the bowl Loretta held Clare’s head up a little farther and gave her a drink of water before continuing. The two women sat quietly through the remainder of the meal.

  “Ino Valdez is my foreman, not my husband,”

  Clare mumbled. “He saved my life a long time ago.”

  Loretta wasn’t sure why, but was happy to learn Clare wasn’t married. “Perhaps you should straighten the storekeeper out.”

  “I don’t give a good goddamn what that jackass or anyone else says or thinks about me.”

  “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?” Loretta asked as she gathered up the bowl and utensils.

  “No,” Clare said softly. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ve always thought hunger was stronger than stubborn,” Loretta said with a smile.

  “Rosario said she would send breakfast over early.”

  “Could you…help me up?” Clare asked. Her face flushed slightly and she looked down at her hands.

  “I…uh…I need…”

  Realization rushed through Loretta and she set the tray back down. “Of course. I should have thought about that. Where…”

  “That door,” Clare said with a nod of her head.

  Loretta opened the door across the room before returning to ease Clare from the bed. Clare gripped Loretta’s shoulders until she steadied her legs beneath her. Slowly the women shuffled across the small room. When Clare was settled Loretta closed the door and waited to assist her back to the bed.

  Loretta’s own ribs were mostly mended and she knew movement was probably excruciating for Clare.

  By the time Clare was settled once again she looked exhausted. “Would you like me to come back later and help you get ready to sleep?” Loretta asked.

  “No, thank you. I’ll be fine until morning.”

  “Sleep well then.”

  THE SUN PEEKED over the tops of the buildings on Main Street as Loretta once again carried a covered tray toward the doctor’s office. She had volunteered to come in early any time the doctor had a patient who had to stay. She rather enjoyed helping someone who couldn’t help themselves. Or at least she had enjoyed spending time with Clare the evening before, even though conversation had been somewhat lacking.

  “I’ve brought breakfast for your patient,” she announced to a woman sitting at the front desk.

  “She’ll be leaving soon,” the woman replied.

  “Good luck.”

  Loretta smiled and nodded, then walked to the door of the room used to house patients. She tapped lightly at the door and walked in. Glaring dark eyes met her as she entered. “How are you feeling this morning?” she asked cheerfully.

  “Like shit,” Clare growled. “How soon can I get out of here?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not your doctor.” Loretta set the tray on the table and began tucking a napkin under Clare’s chin.

  Clare shoved Loretta’s hand away. “And I’m not a fuckin’ cripple. Set the tray on my lap and get out.”

  Taken aback, Loretta said, “I’ll wait for the tray.

  You obviously don’t require my assistance.”

  “I don’t require anyone’s assistance!”

  “Everyone needs help from time to time, Miss McIlhenney. It’s not a personal failing. But I’m glad you’re feeling better. I’ll come back for the tray.”

  Loretta’s hazel eyes turned darker as she spoke.

  When she was gone Clare tried to identify what she had seen. Anger? Hurt? Disappointment? The waitress from the café was a pretty young woman, but she didn’t know anything about Clare and Clare wasn’t about to invite anyone into her personal life.

  She had survived all these years without friends and didn’t need one now. Slowly she brought a mug full of coffee to her lips and tasted it. Then she dug into the plate full of eggs and ham and downed a glass of orange juice and the rest of her coffee. After some painful movement she managed to get the tray back on the table before throwing the covers off and standing while holding on to the edge of the bed. It took her nearly an hour to dress herself. When Ino showed up with the buckboard she would be ready to return to the ranch.

  TWO WEEKS LATER Ino arrived in town with the buckboard. Horace Barlow had finally sent word the remainder of Clare’s wire had arrived. As usual his first stop was at the Cattleman’s Saloon. After several drinks he invited Mavis to join him for dinner at the café next door. When they were seated at a table, he took a deep breath and sighed, mumbling under his breath.

  “What’s wrong, sugar?” Mavis asked, Brushing hair away from his forehead. “You look exhausted.”

  “I ain’t no nursemaid, Mavis,” he said. “It’s hard takin’ care of the stock, the hands, and Clare. She’s meaner than the worst steer we got.”

  “How’s Miss McIlhenney feeling these days?”

  Loretta asked as she set menus on the table.

  “She’s drivin’ me loco,” Ino answered. “She’s usin’ a cane to walk now, but won’t stop helpin’ long enough to let her ribs heal. I been with that woman almost twenty years now and she still don’t trust me.

  We had a fight today and she told me to get out. Can you believe that? That damn ranch is half mine…sort of.”“She’s just frustrated because she can’t do much,”

  Loretta said, then walked away to help another customer.

  Ino looked at Mavis and sighed. “I know she’s frustrated, but so are me and the boys. She never could cook worth a damn and we’re gettin’ pretty damn tired of jerky and beans. I don’t know about her, but I need help.”

  “Why don’t you hire someone to go out there to cook and clean?
At least until she can get back on her feet.”

  “That’s what we argued about! But she don’t want no stranger poking around in her business,” he said with a fake laugh. “She needs someone to take care of the house so even when she gets back to ranching she won’t have to do it. Spread’s getting’ too big.”

  Ino watched as Loretta scurried around the restaurant taking orders, delivering plates, and refilling drinks. “How much you think that girl makes workin’ here?”

  “I don’t know,” Mavis answered with a shrug. “I wouldn’t think it was much. Maybe ten a month, but she gets some extra from tips, I guess.”

  “Is that good?”

  “It’s not terrible. What’re you thinking?”

  “Clare needs a housekeeper. When it was just me and her mostly we were okay. Now we got five more hands that gotta be fed and the house is much bigger than the original cabin. If she’s serious about makin’ a drive to Pueblo, we’ll have even more hands to feed.”

  “Where you gonna find a woman who’ll put up with living at the ass-end of nowhere and be willing to cook for your hands and put up with Clare’s bad temper? That’s a tall order, baby.”

  “How much you reckon we’d have to pay for that?”

  “At least twenty a month. Maybe more.”

  “How about twenty-five and a place to live?”

  “You thinking about stealing Rosario’s help away?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then you’d better talk to her brother-in-law, the preacher. He’s responsible for her.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, after loading the barbed wire, Ino trudged up the steps to the home of Reverend Cyrus Langford and knocked on the door.

  When the door opened, a fresh-faced young girl smiled up at him. He pulled his hat off and nodded.

  “Senorita. Is Reverend Langford at home?”

  “Yes, he is.” Stepping back, she invited Ino inside.

  “Please have a seat in the parlor and I’ll tell Cyrus he has a visitor.”

  “Gracias.”

  Ino looked around the modest home, finally looking at the pictures hanging on the walls.