Buffalo Summer

by Nadia Nichols

  “I’ve known Pete all my life. He was Steven’s best friend. When he got out of school, Pete managed the tribal bison herd, and I was one of four other students who earned some college money working for him one summer.” She drew a sharp breath and turned her eyes away from Jessie’s face. “Near the end of the summer one of the other students invited all of us to a party in a town north of the reservation. Pete didn’t want to go, but I did, so he drove me. There were a lot of college kids there. I drank too much. Pete wanted to leave but I didn’t. Another girl said she’d give me a ride, so Pete finally left after I told him that I didn’t need a baby-sitter. But after a while the other girl disappeared, so when some guy who was going my way offered me a ride, I took it. He seemed nice, and I…I wanted to get home.”

  Pony paused to gather her thoughts. She had never spoken aloud of this to anyone before. She felt Jessie reach out and take her hands in her own. “It’s all right,” Jessie said. Pony turned her head to look at her. Jessie was so strong. She had been through some fires herself and had emerged all the stronger.

  “He didn’t take me home,” Pony said. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “He…” She swallowed and drew a shallow breath. “I finally got away from him. I had some change in my pocket. I walked through the night until I found a gas station with a pay phone, and I called Pete. He came and got me. He wanted to take me to the hospital, but I told him to bring me home. I only wanted to go home. I didn’t want anyone to know what had happened.”

  Jessie’s hands tightened on hers. “You were raped.”

  Pony nodded. “I wasn’t strong enough. I tried to fight him off but…” She bent her head and stared at the earth beneath her feet. “And then I missed my period. One of the other students said she knew of a doctor…. She gave me a phone number and I…I went and…” She paused. The words sounded so unreal to her, and yet she had lived all of it over and over, a thousand, a million times, and kept the dark secret and terrible guilt hidden within herself for all these years. “Afterward, I drove myself home. When I didn’t show up at work the following Monday, Pete came looking for me. He found me bleeding on the kitchen floor and he took me to the real hospital. I made him promise not to tell anyone.” She looked at Jessie. “It was the doctors at the real hospital who told me I wouldn’t be able to have any more children.”

  “Oh, Pony.” Jessie’s eyes shimmered with tears. “I’m so sorry. You’ve kept this inside of you all this time.”

  “It should never have happened. I shouldn’t have gone to the party. I shouldn’t have had those drinks. I should have listened to Pete when he told me it was time to go. I should have gone home with him. But I didn’t. It’s my fault.”

  Jessie shook her head. “Of course it isn’t. Oh God, I can’t imagine what I would have done in your shoes. Maybe the very same thing. It wasn’t your fault. Do you hear me? It wasn’t your fault!” Jessie released her hands and sprang to her feet, pacing a few steps before swinging around. “Pony, if you could have children, would you still feel the same way toward Mr. McCutcheon? Would you want to have his children?”

  The lump in her throat prevented her from speaking. She could only nod.

  “Listen, there are people, professionals, who can counsel you, get you beyond this destructive guilt you’re feeling. You need to get help.”

  Pony shook her head. “Seven years is a lot of time. I’m already well beyond it.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re letting it block your way to happiness. You’re letting it prevent you from realizing the life you could have, the life you deserve!”

  “I deserve nothing. Mr. McCutcheon deserves much more than I can ever give him. And Pete’s a good man, but I can’t be around him without remembering, and so…” Pony drew a shaky breath and let it out slowly. She looked at Jessie. “So now you understand why I must take the boys and leave this place.”

  “I understand nothing of the kind. What I do understand is that what you’re doing with the boys is a wonderful thing. There are so many children out there who need a loving home, and you’ve found a way to give five boys a promising future. Pony, I think you’re a very special person. Your belief that not being able to have children exempts you from being a loving mother is wrong. It’s wrong! I think you should tell Mr. McCutcheon everything, the way you just told me. I think you deserve the happiness you could find here with him.”

  “I can’t tell him.” Pony stated this simply, guilelessly. “And please, Jessie, you must promise me that you won’t.”

  CALEB WAS SITTING on his cabin porch after supper, watching the last of the daylight fade from the sky, a book in his lap, when he heard a light step on the path and Jessie’s voice calling his name.

  “Mr. McCutcheon?” She climbed the porch steps and shoved her hands deep in her jeans pockets. “I was hoping we could have a private talk.”

  “The name’s Caleb, in case you forgot all the important stuff while you were off at school learning to be a veterinarian,” he said, laying the unread book aside. “And of course you can. Anything I can do to help with your wedding plans, all you have to do is ask. If you’d rather have the wedding here instead of at Guthrie’s place, I’m all for it. I’ve offered you that option before, if you’ll recall.”

  “Actually, this isn’t about my wedding,” Jessie said. “And I do recall. Thank you.”

  Caleb gazed up at her quizzically. “You don’t like how things are going at the ranch. You don’t like the buffalo.”

  “I love how things are here and I think the buffalo are wonderful. Mr. McCutcheon…”

  “Caleb.”

  “Pony thinks that you’re angry with her,” Jessie said.

  Caleb felt an anxious kick in the pit of his stomach. He stood and paced to the rail, quarter turned and faced the dark wall of mountains. “That’s ridiculous,” he said. “Why would I be angry with her?”

  “She thinks you’re not satisfied with the job she’s doing.”

  He spun around. “She’s doing a great job. A fantastic job!”

  “Maybe you should tell her that.”

  “I will.” He paced down the length of the porch and back. “Tonight. I’ll tell her tonight.” He leaned over the porch rail, watching the river rushing past. “The truth is, even though she only hired on for the summer, I wish she’d stay here permanently. She and the boys.”

  “Maybe you should tell her that, too.”

  He shook his head in despair. “It wouldn’t matter. She can’t stay because she…she needs to be with her own kind. What I mean is, she wants to have babies that are not of mixed blood. She wants to keep the Crow blood pure. The thing is, you see… Oh, hell!” he exclaimed, smacking the palm of his hand on the rail and then whirling to face Jessie. “I’m not mad at Pony, I’m in love with her. And it’s killing me!”

  “Mr. McCutcheon, that truth is patently evident to everyone here. Why don’t you tell her exactly how you feel. Lay your cards on the table. I have a strong hunch that she’s just as crazy about you as you are about her.”

  He shook his head again. “I’m afraid if I do what you suggest, she’ll take the boys and leave. And if she leaves here, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

  “Mr. McCutcheon,” Jessie began.

  “Caleb!”

  “At the end of the summer, she’s planning to leave here anyway. Tell her how you feel! What do you have to lose?”

  PONY SAT at the computer and stared at the screen, mentally composing the resignation she intended to give Mr. McCutcheon in the morning. She would make it brief and honest. She would tell him that she was taking the boys and returning to the reservation. She would tell him what she had intended to tell him on their very first night here. She would tell him that she and the boys did not belong here, and the only way to remedy that was to leave.

  Jessie had been kind to try and help, but the situation was clearly hopeless and there was little point in prolonging it. She had made the huge mistake of falling in love with a man who deserv
ed so much better than what she had to offer. Caleb was not to blame, nor should he be made to suffer needlessly for her failings.

  Pony heard someone climbing the ranch-house steps and glanced out the window, startled to see that it was Caleb himself. She smoothed her hair from her face and straightened her shoulders. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. This had been a long, hard day, and she would not be sorry to see it end. She heard the screen door bang shut and started toward the kitchen. Her steps were swift and purposeful, propelling her into the room before she could lose courage and change her mind. “Mr. McCutcheon, I need to speak with you, please,” she blurted out as she entered the kitchen.

  He stopped just inside the door and removed his hat. His sandy hair was tousled and his expression was grave. “Yes,” he said. “I think we need to talk.”

  At that moment the wall phone rang. He picked it up, and when it became evident that the call was not going to be a brief one, Pony fled the kitchen and returned to the sanctuary of the living room. She sat back down at the computer and printed out the graphs she had made, as well as all the bookkeeping entries for the past four months. She collated the work swiftly and was putting the sheets into a three-ring binder when she heard his footsteps behind her. Closing the binder, she rose from the desk, holding the logbook in her hands. It was painful to be in the same room with him. But she had to tell him before she lost the courage to do so.

  Tell him goodbye.

  He paused just inside the doorway. “That call was from a man down in Wyoming,” he said. “He’s selling his ranch outside of Jeffords, and the new buyer doesn’t want the herd of buffalo he’s running on it. Four bulls, ten cows, six calves. Healthy and certified brucellosis free. He wanted to know if we were interested. He’s also selling his buffalo hauler, a fancy beefed-up aluminum stock trailer.”

  Pony gripped the three-ring binder to her. “What did you tell him?”

  “I said we’d be down to have a look. I figured if we left here at 4:00 a.m. tomorrow morning we’d be in Jeffords by dark. It’s about forty miles south of the park boundary.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Do you have other plans? I could call him back.”

  Pony’s heart rate trebled. “No, it’s just that…”

  “If you don’t want to go, I understand. But I’d appreciate your input. You’re the expert, and you said we needed more bulls. That’s four more.”

  She nodded and hesitated. “How much is he asking?”

  “The trailer’s a big Featherlite thirty-footer, practically new. For the trailer and the buffalo, sixty grand.”

  “That seems a fair price.”

  Caleb nodded. “I say we go down there tomorrow, and if the buffalo aren’t all infested with mange and riddled with disease, we bring them back and introduce them to the prettiest mountain valley on this planet. We can take the boys with us and do the scenic tour of the park on the way down. That’s the beauty of the Suburban. What do you say?”

  “I’ve never been to Wyoming.”

  “We’d be driving right through Yellowstone, coming and going. We could stop at Old Faithful and some of the other geysers and let the boys have a look.”

  “How long would we be gone?”

  “Two days.” His eyes held hers. “I told him we’d come. At that price, those buffalo won’t last long.”

  She nodded and her heart gave a painful thump. “All right.”

  His relief was visible. “Good. And just in case I haven’t said it lately, I think you’re doing a great job. I want to be sure you know how much you’re appreciated. Now, what was it you wanted to speak with me about?”

  She drew a shallow breath. “I…” Her eyes focused on the binder. She lifted it and held it out toward him. “I’ve finished the bookkeeping project,” she said. “I thought you might want to look it over.”

  He reached the report out of her hands. “Thanks.” He turned to go and paused at the door. “Four a.m.,” he said.

  She nodded. “We’ll be ready.”

  “HOW DO YOU FEEL about having kids?” Jessie murmured on the edge of sleep, wrapping herself around him like a warm, living blanket.

  “What’s that?” Guthrie roused himself and drew her closer.

  “I said, how do you feel about babies?”

  “Babies.” Guthrie reached a hand to rub his face in the darkness. “Well, babies are something I don’t have much experience with. I mean, I have plenty of experience with baby cows and baby horses….”

  “I’m talking children. Human ones.”

  On his guard now. Wide-awake. “How many?”

  “How many do you think you might want?”

  “I hadn’t given it much thought. Just us gettin’ married…well, I guess that’s grabbed most of my attention. First things first, and all that.” He heard her give an impatient sigh and hastened to add, “But I guess however many you decide you want to have is okay with me. I mean, you’re the one who has to do all the work, carryin’ ’em and birthin’ ’em and all. I mean, I can help once they’re on the ground, if you know what I mean. I could learn to change diapers and stuff like that.”

  There followed a silence so long that he thought she’d drifted off to sleep, but all of a sudden she said, “Guthrie, what if I couldn’t have kids? What if I told you I couldn’t bear you a son or a daughter?”

  “I dunno. I guess I never thought about not having kids, either.”

  He felt the sharp prod of her elbow. “Well, think about it now!”

  “Okay. I’m thinking.” He fidgeted and rubbed his foot against hers beneath the covers. “Well, I guess I’d have to throw you over for some fertile, wide-hipped, big-breasted wench who could pump out a dozen brats in ten years’ time.”

  “Guthrie. I’m serious about this.”

  His hands had already discovered the truth of her words. She was as tensed as a fiddle string. “Okay, then. Seriously. It wouldn’t matter to me. I mean, what’s a baby? It’s this little red-faced, wrinkled thing that squalls and squirms and eats and poops pretty near constant until it gets bigger, and then it gets into everything pretty constant until it gets even bigger, and then it gets into trouble pretty constant until finally it cuts loose and leaves home. So what’s to like about babies, anyhow?”

  “Guthrie!”

  He sighed tolerantly. “Jess, the bottom line is, raising a bunch of kids with you would be the very best part of my life, but if for some reason it turns out you can’t have a baby, we’ll find another way. We’ll adopt a whole passel of ’em.”

  “But it wouldn’t be the same, would it?”

  “What do you mean? Those lucky babies would have you and me both. What more could any baby want?”

  “But what about your genes and mine?”

  Guthrie pulled her close, kissed her hard and said, “Levi’s, baby. They’re the only way to go.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  AT 4:00 A.M. the stars were blazing in the velvety sky. The boys were quiet, climbing into the Suburban and buckling their seat belts without being reminded. Roon was the only one absent, opting to stay behind to tend the buffalo calf and the injured mustang. Pony rode in the passenger seat, Caleb climbed behind the wheel, and Guthrie limped up to Pony’s side carrying a two big paper sacks. “Trail snacks,” he said, handing them to her. “Ramalda didn’t want you gettin’ hungry on the road.” Guthrie glanced at the boys in the back seat. “When you get back, you might want to come over to my place. Blue had her pups last night.”

  “No kidding?” Caleb said. “Did she have a little female for me?”

  “She had three females and three males, so I guess everyone’s going to be happy, with two to spare.”

  Caleb started the Suburban and grinned. “That’s good news,” he said. He felt better this morning than he’d felt in a long while, and hearing about the pups was an added boost. “Hold the fort while we’re gone. We’ll be back tomorrow, and if things go well, we’ll be hauling a fancy aluminum trailer full of
buffalo.”

  Within two hours they were crossing the northern boundary of Yellowstone National Park. Sunrise found them at Mammoth Hot Springs, where they hiked as a group to view the massive thermal spring. Elk grazed nearby among clumps of sage, calmly wary of their presence. They watched the steam rise from the spring into the cool air while Caleb read the various informative plaques aloud, then walked back to the Suburban, where Pony brought out a flask of coffee for Caleb and poured paper cups of juice for herself and the boys. As Caleb drove farther into the park, they drank, ate oranges and admired the scenery and wildlife. A pleasurable and meandering six hours later found them at Old Faithful, sitting on one of the many benches that ringed the hot spring and eating thick beef sandwiches that Ramalda had packed. Already they had seen countless elk and bison, a black bear and the most exciting sighting of all, a mother grizzly with two cubs rooting in the sod beside a small stream.

  Caleb ate his sandwich with the first real hunger he had felt in days. It was good being with Pony and the boys. He tried not to think about anything but this hour, this moment. He concentrated on enjoying the present and not worrying about a future he couldn’t possibly share with the woman he’d fallen in love with.

  ALTHOUGH HE’D SEEN pictures and videos of Old Faithful erupting, when it did Caleb leaped to his feet, amazed, along with all the other spectators, and when it was over he grinned at Pony and the boys. “That was a real treat,” he said. “Even if we don’t buy those buffalo, just seeing all we’ve seen today has made the trip worthwhile.”

  Six p.m., and they were cooling off in Jenny Lake. Caleb wished they’d brought camping gear. Pony didn’t swim, but she rolled her jeans up and waded along the shore while the boys swam and played in the cool clear lake water.

  Eight p.m., and they were in Jeffords, registering for three rooms at a local motel. The clerk directed them to a nearby eatery. “It’s a wild-and-woolly place after ten o’clock, but the food’s real good, and if you like to dance, there’s a live band.”