Cowgirl

by Nance Sparks

  “That sounds more than fair. I appreciate your kindness, Aren. I sincerely do.” Carol returned the smile.

  “So, do you want me to run down and get that phone book for you?”

  “Phone book? No, thank you. It’s really not necessary. I can just search for anything I need on my phone, although it’s almost out of battery. Could you take me into town so I can buy a new charger for my phone?”

  “Sure thing, I’ll go and hitch up Wyatt to the wagon.” Aren got up.

  “Wouldn’t it be quicker if we just took my car? It has a full tank of gas,” Carol said.

  “What does the timeframe have to do with anything? You got a hot date or something?” Aren said. “Besides, how are you going to drive with that leg?”

  Carol looked down at her cast. There was no way she could push in the clutch with that bulky thing. “You could drive my car. Do you know how to drive a stick?”

  “Noooo, not me.” Aren laughed, holding up her hands. “I don’t drive anything but the tractor. On these acres, life’s a bit different than most anywhere else.” Aren paused and seemed to consider her words. “I don’t have a driver’s license, just a state issued ID so I can vote.”

  “Do you not know how? I could teach you!” Carol liked the idea of giving something back to Aren after how kind she’d been.

  A deep breath broke the momentary silence. “I’m blind in my left eye and don’t see too well out of the right eye. I used to drive a car, use technology, but ever since this,” Aren took off her sunglasses, pointing at the scars and the cloudy pupil, “well, I can’t trust my depth perception or that I’ll see something quickly enough that may run onto the road. I trust Wyatt though, who lends me his eyes when we’re on the road.”

  “Shit, Aren, I’m sorry. It’s a damned good thing I’m wearing a cast for all the times I’ve put my foot in my mouth the past twenty-four hours!” Carol stared down at the table, mortified. She recalled seeing the scars by the firelight that night and she’d chatted with Aren the night before but hadn’t really paid attention to the scars on her face, nor the damage to her eyes. She’d just seen kindness and enjoyed the sound of Aren’s laughter.

  Aren smiled again. “Hey, like I said, life’s a bit different on these acres. You’ll get used to it. Do you still want to go into town? I can hitch up the wagon. Or I could just run over and see if I can find the charger.”

  “I’d really rather you not risk entering that house again. We’ll just go on an adventure into town,” Carol said, pushing herself up to her feet. Balancing on one crutch and her good leg, she hopped in front of Aren, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Aren, for all that you’re doing to help.”

  Aren stiffened slightly and returned the hug lightly. “No problem.” She shifted away and headed downstairs. “I’ll be back to get you in a second!”

  Carol sat down and rested her head in her hands. Only a few days ago, Aunt Suzie had asked what her plans were now that she’d graduated. Now Aunt Suzie was gone, and Carol was planning funerals. She let the fresh tears fall but pulled herself together when she heard Aren coming back in. She had to be strong so she could do what had to be done. There’d be time for grief later.

  Chapter Ten

  Aren looked over at Carol sitting beside her on the bench seat. Her eyes were closed and her head leaned back. She seemed to be enjoying the soft breeze and sunshine on her skin. The rhythm of Wyatt’s hooves on the hard-packed road was musical, like the steady beat of a handcrafted drum.

  “I’m surprised how comfortable the wagon rides. I guess I expected it to be rough like it appears in western movies.”

  “There’s a big difference between rolling across an ungroomed field full of pits and rocks with steel rim wheels verses rolling down a well-maintained road on inflated car tires. I’ll take this ride any day over what the settlers had to endure.”

  “I never thought about it that way. No wonder things bounced out of the wagons when the horses ran.”

  Carol’s arm shot up, pointing at something off in the distance. Aren turned her head in time to see a deer emerge from the woods on its way to a small pond for a cool drink.

  “This is so fun. It’s like going on a hay ride to get pumpkins in the fall. How long does it take to get back and forth to town?” Carol asked.

  “Round trip, it’s about three hours.” Aren stared ahead, her hands loose on the reins.

  “Wow, that long. No wonder they invented cars. That would be some commute to work every day.” Carol shifted in her seat and adjusted her leg. “Aunt Suzie said you came back from Tennessee or Kentucky or somewhere around there. What did you used to do there?”

  “Seems like a lifetime ago.” Aren frowned slightly. “I was a veterinarian. I’d decided long ago to work with animals. I started out as a vet tech and worked my way through veterinary school down at Michigan State University. After I earned my degree, I was recruited by an equine facility down in Kentucky to manage their breeding program. Looking back, I sold myself to the highest bidder. My work became about money and not about the animals, though I didn’t realize that until years after I’d left.” Aren squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn’t meant to share that much.

  “What brought you back here?” Carol asked. “Aunt Suzie said something about your sister taking ill.”

  “Your aunt Suzie said quite a bit, I guess,” Aren replied a bit more curtly than she’d meant to. Her grip tightened up on the reins.

  She watched Carol recoil, shift her focus to her fingernail, and look away. Aren felt bad for snapping at her. How could she have known what happened back then? But she wasn’t used to people asking questions about her life, either. Still, it didn’t mean she needed to be grumpy about it.

  “She wasn’t exactly my sister. We were each assigned to the same foster home when we were kids. Her name was Jennifer, and she died four years ago, cancer.” Aren let the words out, words she hadn’t said in years. A chill ran down her spine causing her to shudder.

  “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. I shouldn’t have pried.” Carol lightly touched her leg.

  Looking into Carol’s innocent eyes made Aren smile a little. She was so sincere in everything she said. Aren hadn’t experienced that since she’d lost Jennifer. The walls surrounding her heart softened a bit and the demons edged from her mind. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I close my eyes and it seems like it was yesterday.”

  “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Carol asked, turning in her seat a bit to face her.

  “How far back do you want to go?” Aren asked and then added, “Hey now, why aren’t we talking about you? How did all of the questions get turned to me?”

  Now it was Carol’s turn to chuckle. “Because I already know about me. I would like to know more about you. Besides, you’re keeping my mind occupied. If I remember right, it’s how I dealt with my parents’ death. Distraction is useful.”

  “You dealt with your parents’ death by seeking out a complete stranger and asking incessant questions about her life? Who was the poor soul you interrogated last? Do you still talk to her?” Aren looked over to catch Carol’s expression.

  Carol rolled her eyes. “No, nothing like that. I kept my mind busy, that’s how I dealt with my parents’ death, by staying busy. At the time, I was just starting the master’s program at school, so I dove headfirst into my studies.” Carol ran her fingers through her hair, and the sight of it stirred something in Aren’s heart.

  “What…” Aren cleared her throat. “What was your major?”

  “You’ll laugh,” Carol said, color showing on her cheeks.

  “No, I won’t laugh, come on, you’re asking me all these personal questions and you won’t even tell me what your major was at school?” Aren pretended to look hurt.

  “I have earned a master’s degree in library science,” she said proudly, puffing out her chest and holding her hand over her heart. Then she started to giggle.

  “What does
one do with a master’s degree in library science?” Aren asked, trying not to let Carol’s giggles cause her to laugh.

  “Someday, I aspire to be a librarian, perhaps even the director of a library, or maybe run a network of libraries!” She said it as though she’d be running for a political office.

  Aren could no longer hold back the laughter. It wasn’t Carol’s area of study that caused her to laugh, but her over-the-top descriptions.

  Carol looked up at Aren. “Seriously, I love books, love reading, love research. I want to know everything about everything. The work that goes into creating a book is mind-boggling.”

  “I never thought of it that way. I just pick up a book and read it, but I bet you’re right about the work that has to go into creating one. So, why library science and not publishing?”

  “It’s the library that I love. It’s a place for anyone and everyone to find something that intrigues them, regardless of their interests, situation, or income level. It was one of my favorite places to go as a child. I’d go home with an armload of books. I could go on great adventures in a castle, fight dragons dressed as a knight, or attempt to learn sign language, even study every breed of horse. Anything is possible with a library card.”

  Aren kept the conversation light the rest of the way into town, eager to avoid delving into Jennifer’s death. She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about anything from that time in her life. She realized that Carol was as much of a distraction for her from her losses, her sadness, as she was for Carol. She was grateful for the temporary reprieve from her demons.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Thank you for calling the Church of Our Lord, I’m sorry no one is available to take your call. Please leave a message and we’ll return your call as quickly as possible.”

  Carol rolled her eyes and shook her head. It was the third church in a row with an answering machine. She waited for the beep.

  “Yes, hello, my name is Carol Matthews. Susan and Frank Cordes were my aunt and uncle. I’m wondering if they were members of your church. My number is—”

  “Hello, this is Reverend Todd. Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m still here,” Carol said.

  “I apologize for the machine. Sometimes it takes me a minute or two to get back to the office.”

  “Hello, Reverend. My name is Carol Matthews. As I was saying, Susan and Frank Cordes were my aunt and uncle. I was wondering if they were members of your church. I’m trying to make arrangements.”

  “Hello, Ms. Matthews, yes, Suzie and Frank were members, both highly regarded. I’m sorry to hear of their untimely passing. It’s a profound loss for all of us. I’m glad you called.”

  Carol squeezed her eyes shut and allowed herself to exhale. She’d finally found the church and was talking with an actual person and not a machine. But now she had to dive into the hard stuff.

  “Thank you for your kind words, Reverend. I was wondering if you ever spoke with my aunt and uncle about their wishes should something happen to them? I’m embarrassed to admit that I’m ill-prepared for this and I’m trying to figure out where to begin so I can honor them.” Carol caught herself staring across the road at the home splintered beneath the tree. She turned away and forced herself to focus on the phone call.

  “It’s a difficult time I’m sure, no one expects anything like this. Actually, yes, I have had conversations with Suzie and Frank about their final wishes. I understand that you were visiting when this tragedy struck and that you were injured. How are you doing?”

  “Yes, I was in the house when the tree fell. My only injury was a broken leg, and it will heal with time. Now, as far as arrangements I—”

  “Ms. Matthews, you needn’t worry about any of that. They left me with detailed instructions on what to do should they both perish at the same time. I can take care of the funeral arrangements, unless you’d prefer to do so on your own. Actually, I’ve been trying to locate you, as I have some information for you and a sealed letter addressed to you. I tried to catch you at the hospital, but you’d already been discharged. I tried to call, but the number I had from the instructions was no longer in service. Are you still in town?”

  “Yes, I’m still in town. They left me a letter? When did they arrange all of this?”

  “Shortly after Suzie lost her sister. I believe Sara was your mother? Helping you throughout that process made them realize that they needed to be more prepared in the event of an accident. They didn’t want to burden you with making difficult decisions should something like that happen to them. Suzie and Frank purchased a funeral insurance policy that should cover everything. The funeral home will need a copy of the death certificate once you receive it, and a claim will need to be filed. I took the liberty of talking with Kevin, the funeral director, to get things started. I hope you don’t mind, but we ended up at a standstill until we could collect some contact information for you. Where should we have the death certificates mailed?”

  Carol once again felt ill-prepared. She hadn’t expected this much progress. She tried to remember the house number, but all she could recall was that she was on Thompson Road. She tapped her pencil on the tablet of paper in front of her trying to figure out a solution.

  “Hello, Ms. Matthews, are you still there?” the reverend asked.

  “Yes, I’m sorry, I’m still here. I don’t have an address to give you. I’m staying with a friend who lived across the street from my aunt and uncle. Thompson Road is all I know. The house number isn’t coming up on my phone. Would you mind mailing them to my aunt and uncle’s house, by chance?”

  “The farm across the street from Suzie and Frank is the Harris place. You’re not staying at the ol’ Harris farm, are you?” The reverend asked.

  “I don’t know the name of the farm. I’m staying with Aren. My leg was broken when the tree fell, and she pulled me out. She saved my life and offered to let me stay here while I make arrangements for the funeral, and until I figure out what to do next,” Carol explained, somewhat confused by his response. Surely a preacher would be beyond believing rumors?

  “How long have you known this friend? Perhaps you’re not familiar with the history? I’m sure you could stay with a family from the church until after the services.”

  “Really, Reverend, I’m fine right here. Aren’s been very hospitable.” First the weird responses from Aren the day before, and now this. “What’s the matter with me staying here?”

  “I really wish you’d reconsider. You’re not safe there. That place drives people insane.”

  “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. I’m fine right here.”

  “Very well, it’s your life. I’ll be sure to let you know when the service will be, and if you need anything at all, you just call. Bye now,” he said before hanging up.

  Carol got up from the table, confused by the change in the reverend’s disposition once he’d realized where she was staying. Nothing she’d experienced from Aren so far caused her any concern. She was kind, courteous, and generous. She was also funny and calm. In fact, she was really pretty great. She grabbed her crutches and made her way over to the screen-covered loft door. Standing in front of it, she could see Aren working in the garden. She watched Aren pick tomatoes from the last two rows, carefully setting them into wooden crates. Every few minutes, she’d take a full crate and slide it into the back of the wagon they’d taken into town. The wagon was now overflowing with produce. Carol could hear Aren whistling an upbeat little tune though she couldn’t identify it. For someone treated so poorly by the townspeople, she was wonderfully relaxed, and Carol wondered what part of Aren’s story she was missing.

  After ten minutes or so, Aren had finished picking the vegetables and was climbing aboard the wagon. She heard Aren tell Wyatt to go to the back of the barn and she giggled, thinking of Mr. Ed responding. Carol carefully made her way through the main aisle of the loft. She hadn’t tried the stairs alone yet. Carol used the railing for support as she lowered herself to the floor.
She skootched her way to the top step, holding her cast up while using both hands and her good leg to work her way down the steps, seated, one step at a time. About midway down the stairs, she’d grown tired of trying to hold on to the crutches while working her way down. She tossed them to the bottom of the stairs. It was quite the effort, but she wanted to talk to Aren. She wanted to understand. She knew that Aren’s past really wasn’t any of her business, but she’d always been one to ask questions and look for answers, and Aren was turning out to be a puzzle she wanted to solve.

  The whistling grew louder as Carol hobbled down the main aisle of the barn. The bay doors in the back were swung wide open and a soft breeze wisped through, lifting her hair from her face. Carol inhaled deeply. She loved the smell of a farm, the smell of the animals and fresh hay.

  Carol could hear water running when she reached the back of the barn. Hobbling through the large open doorway, she watched for a moment as Aren scrubbed the dirt off the fresh vegetables before letting them dry in clean crates.

  “Don’t you ever stop working?” Carol asked from inside the doorway.

  Aren shook her head. “There’s too much to do to stop working. If I don’t get all of this washed and canned up, then I won’t have any veggies for the winter months. The animals have to be fed when they have to be fed, and the fields have to be tended almost constantly. When you do it yourself, you can’t waste a minute of daylight.”

  “Can I help?” Carol offered, wishing there was something she could do aside from just sit with her leg elevated. She missed being active already and it had only been a few days. Six to eight weeks would surely make her crazy if she couldn’t find something to do.

  “I have a stool if you want to wash these up. Then, I could start blanching and peeling these for canning.” Aren held a big tomato.

  “Sure, I’d love to help!” Carol was glad Aren didn’t send her away. It must be strange to have someone in her space all the time. “Why do you do all of this work when they have canned vegetables at the store? Wouldn’t it save you time to just buy tomatoes?”