by Floyd, Susan
Clem found immense comfort in the rhythm and the safety of the kitchen. Unless one of the ovens blew up, she knew her chances for survival were better in the kitchen than on the trail.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Clem said as her mother handed her the corn bread batter to spread into the pans. Cowchip hovered beside her, looking for a morsel or two to drop to the ground. Now that Claire was back, Cowchip followed her everywhere.
“I certainly didn’t expect to be put to work so quickly,” Claire laughed. “But it reminds me of old times. It’s good for your father, too. He likes being around the young men. Good thing there are two of us. It makes the cooking that much easier.”
They worked together in companionable silence.
“I like your young man.”
“My young man?” Clem looked at her mother in surprise.
“Dexter.”
Clem flushed. “He’s not my young man.”
“He sure watches over you as if he is.”
“I’m not ready for anything like that. I already made one mistake, I’m not eager to make another one.” Clem wiped the edges of the pans, then popped them in the oven before taking the bowl to the sink. Clem hadn’t seen much of Dexter since her accident, though he did drop in every evening, at first with reports on their progress. The news wasn’t as encouraging as she wanted, but for the past few nights, his visits had been purely social. Even when she asked about the cows, he only gave her the briefest amount of information. It was as if the roundup had nothing to do with her.
“The carrots need to be stripped.”
Clem nodded and rummaged through the refrigerator to find the ten-pound bag of carrots. “I appreciate your going shopping.”
“What else were we going to feed everyone?” Claire asked.
Clem started peeling and slicing the carrots. She liked cooking. She was good at it. It didn’t really bother her that she’d been left out of the men’s work. What in the world made her think she should be out riding with them, anyway?
“Dexter isn’t like Nick,” Claire said suddenly, picking up their earlier conversational thread.
Clem nodded, only half listening. She peeled more carrots. “But he doesn’t talk.”
“Still waters run deep,” her mother quoted. “He seems to say plenty to you.”
“I suppose.”
“He seems to understand your needs, too.”
“Maybe.”
“So when are you going to go out with them again?” Claire asked gently. “I hear Archie’s getting mighty restless being left behind all the time.”
Clem kept on peeling carrots. She didn’t want to look up. “My ribs still ache pretty badly.”
“Really?” Her mother cocked her head to the side.
Clem flushed. Her mother could always see right through her.
“Well, they’re better than they were.”
“I would think you’d want to participate. It seems as if the hard stuff’s been taken care of. Now it’s just the herding.”
Clem laughed. “With these cows, it’s the herding that’s hard.”
“Still, you don’t want to miss out on the fun.”
Clem brought half the carrots over to the stove. “You need help here.”
“Heavens, I’ve cooked for twice as many with less notice,” Claire said. “I’ll just start earlier.”
Clem didn’t say anything. “I’ve got paperwork I should get done.”
Her mother clicked her tongue. “Clem, you can do the paperwork anytime. It’s not every day that you get to learn from cowboys who have this much experience. I would’ve thought you’d be itching to get out there. Count your booty.”
“I’ll count them when they get in our pasture.”
Claire stopped what she was doing. “Clem, I didn’t raise a quitter.”
“You also didn’t raise a fool,” Clem retorted.
“And how would going out and getting your cows make you a fool?”
Clem wasn’t sure how to explain what she felt to her mother. Finally, in frustration, she said, “I can’t keep up!”
“What does that mean?”
“Mom, you should see how good they are. They seem very casual about it, but they’re truly the best in the world. I just slow them down.”
Claire frowned. She pushed her silver hair off her forehead. “It doesn’t seem to me that any of those boys hold the impression you slowed them down even one iota.”
“We lost cows and time the day I fell.”
“Any other person could have fallen. That much they made clear to me. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” her mother countered.
Clem shook her head. “They’ve got plenty of help with Dad out there. There really isn’t much to miss. It’s a lot safer here.” Clem couldn’t understand why tears were welling up in her eyes.
“Safe isn’t always better, honey,” Claire said.
“I know, Mom.” Clem sniffed back her tears and started to rip up lettuce for salad. “But I think that’s the only way I can handle things.”
“No!” Her mother was vehement. “You’re bigger than that. Clem, there’s only one life. And when it’s done and over, will you be someone who played it safe and got nothing or someone who risked it all and got everything?”
Clem couldn’t answer.
Her mother took the head of lettuce out of Clem’s hands and wrapped her in a tight hug.
“It’s been a hard year, but you’re stronger. Just look at what you’ve done.”
Clem allowed herself to feel the comfort of her mother’s hug before she pulled away. “Thanks, but there are plenty of other risks I can take. I don’t need this one.”
Her mother sighed. “If you think staying here is for the best, I won’t argue anymore.”
Clem nodded. “Yes. I think it is.”
THE MEN CAME BACK HOME tired. The day hadn’t gone as smoothly as planned.
“I thought that we’d be done by now,” Ryan muttered.
“It’s just slow work. We’ll have them in before the end of the week,” Jim Wells said encouragingly. “Look, we’ve already got three hundred fifty. You boys do good work.”
“It’s not the same without Clem,” Randy said suddenly. He gave her a friendly smile as she offered him a plate of spiced carrots. “When are you going to help us?”
“It’s only been a couple of days since she’s really been back on her feet,” Dexter objected.
“But she’s a toughie,” Randy remarked. “Aren’t you, Clem?”
Jim cleared his throat. “Clem took quite a tumble. We can hardly blame her if she wants to sit out a few innings to catch her breath.”
“As long as it’s just a few innings.” Randy stared at her pointedly. “We could use the extra hand.”
“I thought Dad was filling my shoes just fine,” Clem joked.
“And then some,” Jim Wells agreed as he patted his stomach. “Claire, the food is delicious.”
“Thank Clem,” her mother said smoothly. “She did half the cooking.”
“She can cook,” Ryan agreed. “Almost as good as she can ride.”
Clem laughed. “That’s very nice of you, but I think I should stick with the cooking rather than the riding.”
“You can’t,” Randy persisted. “You’re too damn good to be stuck at home cooking.” He glanced in Claire’s direction. “No offense, Mrs. Wells.”
“None taken,” Claire said. “I agree with you.”
“Clem’s a sane adult,” Dexter said again. “If she wants to go, she’ll go. If she doesn’t, we should respect that.”
“You would say that, Scott.” The bitterness and impatience in Randy’s voice surprised Clem.
“And what would you mean by that, Miller?” Dexter dropped his fork and stared at his friend.
“You want her to take the safe route, just like Joanna.”
“Randy.” Ryan put his hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say t
hat,” Dexter said through clenched teeth, then started eating again.
“The way you want to pretend that Clem would be better off at home? Man, that’s a bunch of bull. You know that Clem was born for this life.”
“But if she doesn’t want it,” Dexter said, keeping his voice even, but the death grip he had on his fork belied his calm, “then she should be allowed to make up her own mind.”
“She’s scared, damn it. Everybody gets scared. But she’s got to get past it.”
“Stop it!” Clem stood up and slammed her hands down on the table, making her ribs throb in protest. The blood was rushing through her head so loudly she couldn’t hear herself think. “Would you stop talking about me as if I’m not here? I can make my own decisions. And if I want to go, I’ll go. But right now, my ribs hurt and I don’t want to. Okay?”
She sat down again and the table fell into stunned silence.
After a beat, Jim Wells ventured, “So anybody been following the 49ers?”
Ryan picked up Clem’s father’s cue and the talk turned to football and the great season that the 49ers were having.
A few moments later Clem started to clear the table.
She was running water into the sink when Randy came up with a pile of dishes.
“I’m sorry, Clem,” he said as he put the dishes in the sink.
She watched the suds separate and rise.
“Don’t be, you’re entitled to your opinion.”
“It’s not just my opinion,” Randy said. “It’s something that I know in my gut. You need to be out there with us. You need to be watching what we’re doing.”
“If it was just watching, that’d be okay. But I know I’d end up doing and that’s when I get hurt.”
“Got hurt. Once.”
“And what if it happens again?” She was going to cry again.
“Then it happens again. But you can’t do what Dex did and just close up because you’re afraid of the pain. You’ll never live a full life that way.”
“How can you say that after what happened to Joanna?”
Randy’s eyes were more serious than she’d ever seen them before. “I can say that because of Joanna. You’d have really liked her. She wasn’t like Dex at all. She was happy, she talked a mile a minute, and she was full of life. I loved her.”
“But she died.”
He nodded. “I think about Joanna every day. Every time I pass a family, I wonder how many kids we’d have by now. We both wanted a bunch. Joanna really did live every day like it was the last. She squeezed every moment of joy and excitement out of life she could. It was exhausting just keeping up with her.”
Clem inhaled. “She was a braver soul than I am.”
Randy shook his head. “I don’t think so. She had a lot of fear. But what was beautiful about Joanna was that she didn’t let the fear keep her from doing what she wanted to do. She just shoved it aside and walked forward.”
It’s all about moving forward.
Jim Wells’s words echoed in Clem’s mind.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to beat a dead horse. But I want you back on Archie by the end of the week. You’re really that good.” His lecture ended, Randy left the kitchen.
Clem finished the dishes by herself.
DEXTER FOUND IT HARD to concentrate on the short debriefing session. He wondered what Randy and Clem had talked about. He’d warned Randy about pushing her too hard. Clem wasn’t Joanna. She didn’t have the streak of recklessness that had led to Joanna’s demise. He was glad when Ryan yawned and rolled up his maps.
“Man, I am exhausted,” Ryan commented. “I can’t wait to get the rest of those cows out. Then I can look for the others.” Ryan nodded to Clem. “’Night, Clem.”
Randy joined him, settling his hat on his head. “Come on out with us tomorrow, Clem. No hard work, just to watch.”
Clem didn’t reply, instead she tugged on Dexter’s sleeve as he started to follow the Millers out the door.
“Can I talk to you?” she asked.
Dexter studied her face. It had begun to heal, but he wasn’t so certain that she should go out tomorrow, even to watch. They were doing a fine job of getting the cows from the canyon. Even though it was going a lot slower than anyone had expected, the four hundred cows would be safely on their way to market in a matter of days. Then they’d concentrate on the missing two hundred. Like a dog on a trail, Ryan wasn’t about to be defeated. He was going to find them.
Ryan and Jim Wells had seemed to hit it off right at the beginning, and Dexter noticed the two often rode together. Dexter wasn’t certain Jim Wells was up to the physicality of the work, but he supposed that the rancher wouldn’t push past his limits. He wasn’t so sure about Clem, though, which was why he’d feel much better if Clem just sat out these last few rounds.
“Sure.”
He followed Clem to the staircase and watched as she sat down at the bottom step. She gazed out the window at the pitch-black valley that surrounded the house. Dexter leaned up against the railing of the stairs and waited for her to say what she wanted to say.
“No matter what Randy says, I’m not going with you,” she finally admitted.
Relief coursed through Dexter. Now he didn’t have to persuade her otherwise.
Unexpectedly he found himself asking, “What made you come to that decision?”
Clem didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, she cleared her throat and gave a small shrug with her slim shoulders. “I just can’t do it.”
Dexter looked out the window as his relief at her decision evaporated. Any answer would have been better than that. She didn’t like the life. She hated ranching. She hated horses. But not I just can’t do it.
“I just can’t do it, Dex.” Joanna stared at him, her eyes filling up with tears. “And you’re mean for making me. You know how scared I am.”
“All riders fall off their horses.” Dexter’s patience was at its end. “We don’t have any choice, Jo. I need you if we’re going to get these cows in. You’re our fourth man.”
“I’m not a man. I’m a girl.”
Dexter snorted. “You’re fourteen. If you’re big enough to have your own horse, you’re big enough to work for its keep.”
“I hate you!”
“Shut up and get on the damn horse! Or I’m going to sell it. I swear, I’ll sell him in a heartbeat. Old man Hodges said he thought he’d make mighty fine dog meat.”
“I hate you!” Joanna repeated, but Dexter noticed that even though she was screaming and crying, she was getting back on the horse. Before long she was riding. Then, she was smiling.
“Surely there’s got to be a better reason than that,” Dexter probed.
Clem’s lips tightened. She looked up at him, her chin resting on her knee, then stared out at the darkness. She shook her head. “No. There’s not. I know my limit. I’ve reached it. You guys enjoy that thrill. I hate it.”
“Do you hate all of it?” Dexter knew he should leave things alone. He should accept her answer and then walk away, rather than trying to find out what had caused her change of mind. The spill had been a bad one, true, but nothing more than a few bruised ribs.
“I hated the hospital. I hated the fact you had to call my parents.”
So that was it.
“I thought they needed to know. I’m not blind. They adore you.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” The bitterness in her voice surprised him.
“What’s the problem?”
“I’ve had a good life. And I should be grateful for it and not try and push the boundaries.”
Dexter sat down next to her.
“I might have let you go on believing that if I didn’t know you’re good at what you do.”
“Falling off horses?” Clem’s lips twisted into a smile.
“Riding.”
Clem was silent.
“I think Randy’s right,” Dex admitted against his will. “I think you should go.”
“But you won’t thi
nk less of me if I decided not to?”
Dexter thought for a long time. Finally, he said, “Of course not. There’s very little that you could do that would make me think less of you.”
CLEM FELT RELIEF FLOOD through her. “I thought you might feel like Randy does.”
“Well.” Dexter seemed to be measuring his words. “You’d want to get back there eventually. Don’t you think?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so. I think this whole fiasco has taught me I’m just not cut out for this kind of life. When this is over, I’ll join my parents in Arizona. I can got back to college, pick up the courses I need to get my degree. There are plenty of jobs that I can do.”
Dexter was silent. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Is that what you really want?”
Clem bit her lip. “I’m not sure what I want.”
The silence extended into two minutes.
Finally, Dexter cleared his throat. “Can I say something?”
“Okay.” Clem wasn’t sure she wanted him to, though.
“I think,” he started slowly. “I think, you’re feeling sorry for yourself. I think instead of digging in, you’re giving up.”
Clem’s face grew hot.
“I thought you of all people would understand,” she retorted.
“Me?” he asked. His eyes glittered, as if he was bracing himself for what she had to say to him. “Why do you say that?”
“What makes you think I’m feeling sorry for myself? Can’t everyone just understand that I don’t want to go out?”
“Everyone gets frightened sometimes.”
“I’m not scared. I simply don’t want to go. Can’t you understand that?” Clem stood up. “Do you ever think about the fact that Joanna would be alive if on that one day she’d decided not to go out?”
Clem regretted her words when she saw his face. All the color had drained from it.