Betrayal at the Buffalo Ranch

by Sara Sue Hoklotubbe

  things to do in the kitchen right now.”

  She moved forward with confidence, hoping he would withdraw

  from the doorway and allow her to pass, but he didn’t move a muscle.

  She turned and looked out the window. There were no other vehicles in

  sight. Where was his wife? Who would hear her if she screamed?

  “How about you try it on right now . . . while I wait.”

  “I’ve got another errand to run first,” she lied. “I just realized I for-

  got something at the grocery store.”

  “It can wait,” he said, as he closed the door behind him and flipped

  the deadbolt.

  Becky began to retreat, knowing there was nowhere to go in the

  small apartment. Angus unbuckled his belt and began to unzip his pants.

  She looked around for a weapon, anything she could use to protect

  116

  herself, but the bare apartment yielded nothing useful. Becky’s knees almost buckled.

  “No,” she begged. “I’ll do anything you want,” she said. “But not

  this.”

  Suddenly he pushed her on the bed and pinned her arms above

  her head. His hairy chest and arms felt like oily rubber. He wiped his

  sweaty nose against her cheek, and she tried to pull away. His foul body

  odor and kerosene- smelling breath made her gag. “No!” She screamed

  as loud as she could. Kicking and clawing with all of her strength, she

  struck a blow to his crotch with her knee and bit hard on his forearm.

  “Ouch,” he yelled. “You bit me.”

  He picked her up and slammed her head against the headboard.

  Then everything faded to black.

  ★

  When Becky came to, it took her a minute to remember where she was

  in the dark room. Her head hurt. She touched the back of her head and

  discovered a tender bump and then remembered being thrown against

  the headboard. Her body hurt all over and her mind raced. Then the

  sudden memory of what had happened and the realization that she’d

  been raped rushed over her like a tsunami, sucking the air out of her

  lungs and crashing down on her heart and soul.

  She moved as quickly as she could, throwing the maid’s outfit on

  the floor in disgust. She caught a glimpse of herself in a small mirror

  hanging on the wall, and turned away as silent tears blurred her vision

  and streamed down her face.

  Angus. Where was he? How long had she been out? She could see

  the lights on in the main house, but it was too dark to see any vehicles.

  She quickly pulled on her jeans and torn tee shirt. She had to get away

  from this place as fast as she could before he came back.

  Blindly, she grabbed her purse and fled the tiny apartment, unwill-

  ing to stop and think who might be nearby to stand in her way. She

  jumped into the safety of her car and locked the doors. Thankfully, the

  engine roared to life when she turned the key in the ignition. Gravel

  scattered against the side of the bunkhouse as the tires spun and she flew toward the main road. She glanced in her rearview mirror, and seeing

  117

  no lights behind her, she breezed out the entrance to the Buffalo Ranch and into the night.

  Her headlights illuminated the road, but her path blurred as tears

  continued to spill onto her face. What was it with her? How could she

  put herself in such a vulnerable situation again? Her father had warned

  her about Angus, but she’d ignored him. Her bullheadedness could have

  gotten her killed.

  A deer standing next to the road caused Becky to slam on her

  brakes. Her car skidded sideways and came to a stop before sliding into

  the ditch. She burst into tears. Where was she going? She couldn’t go

  home; she could never tell her father what had happened. He didn’t even

  know about the horrible incident in California, how a drug- crazed crim-

  inal had violently raped her at knifepoint as revenge for the discovery of her husband’s undercover job. Now it had happened again. How could

  she tell her father and bring dishonor to him and the Chuculate name?

  Her life was falling apart.

  She sat in silence for several minutes, assessing her situation. Angus

  obviously wasn’t pursuing her or he would have already overtaken her

  and her old jalopy. She involuntarily glanced in the rearview mirror. He

  was so arrogant he had probably already written her off. In fact, he most likely thought she was still there in the bunkhouse cooking up fake buffalo chili.

  She lifted her foot from the brake pedal and coaxed the car forward.

  Before long, a red mailbox with no name appeared on the left side of the

  road. She punched the accelerator and drove a short distance to the next

  mailbox— S Walela.

  Sadie’s words from the grocery store came to her . . . white house . . .

  north side of the road . . . stop by anytime.

  She stopped and stared at the well- lit farmhouse and barn that sat

  off the road to the left, with a paint horse and a goat standing in the

  pasture. Then she nosed her car onto the lane that led to Sadie’s house.

  As she approached the house, Becky’s car slowed to a creep. She

  recognized Sadie’s car, and assumed the old blue farm truck sitting in

  knee- high weeds probably belonged to Sadie, too. She let her car roll to a stop behind Sadie’s Explorer and, as was the custom, sat and waited,

  exposed by the illumination of a strategically placed pole light.

  118

  The back door opened and the biggest dog she’d ever seen came near her car, sat on his haunches, and silently stared at her. She could see Sadie standing in the doorway.

  Becky lowered her window. “Sadie, it’s Becky Chuculate. Please

  help me.”

  The dog disappeared and Becky opened the car door. As she tried

  to stand, a pain as sharp as a knife buried itself inside her. She could see Sadie rushing toward her as once again blackness enveloped her.

  ★

  Sadie saw pain cross Becky’s face and watched her legs move restlessly

  under the white hospital sheets as if she were trying to escape a bad

  dream. When Becky finally opened her eyes, Sadie could see confusion

  on her face. She stood where Becky could see her more easily.

  “It’s okay,” Sadie said.

  When Becky raised her arm and saw the IV attached to the top of

  her hand, the confusion in her eyes transformed into fear. “Where am I?”

  “Sycamore Springs General Hospital. They got your appendix just

  in time. It was about to burst.”

  “My appendix?” Becky looked around the room and blinked her

  eyes as if trying to bring everything into focus. “Thanks, Sadie. I don’t even know how I found you,” she said. “It’s like your mailbox came out

  of the night and beckoned. I didn’t know what to do.”

  Lance walked into the room. “How’d you get in here, Sadie?” he

  said.

  Sadie smiled. “I lied and told them I was her sister.”

  Lance chuckled and stood beside Sadie.

  “What happened to you, Becky?” Sadie said. “The doctors say you

  might’ve been roughed up. They have to report that kind of thing, you

  know.”

  Becky raised her eyes and stared at Lance, as if afraid to speak.

  “It’s okay,” Sadie said. “This is Lance Smith. He’s a good friend. He

  can help yo
u. He’s the deputy sheriff.”

  “No,” Becky said, sounding alarmed. “I don’t want the police

  involved.”

  119

  “It’s okay,” Lance spoke up. “We just want to help you. Who did this to you?”

  Becky fingered the plastic spoon in the Styrofoam cup of ice chips

  on her bedside stand. She raised her hand to her face and felt a bandage

  above her eye, and touched the bump on the back of her head again. She

  was afraid to think how bad she must look.

  “I need to find someplace to stay,” Becky said.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Sadie said. “We’ll either find you a place

  or you can stay with me until you’ve healed.”

  Lance spoke again. “Who did this to you?”

  “I don’t want to file any charges. I just want it to go away. I’ve been

  raped before.”

  “Raped?” Sadie exclaimed. “Is that why you told me not to call your

  father on the way to the hospital? Did your father rape you?”

  “No, no, no. My father knows nothing about what happened. But I

  can’t let him see me like this and I can’t go back to California. My home there is gone. I have nowhere to go.”

  “I thought you were staying at the Buffalo— ” Sadie stopped mid-

  sentence and let out a long breath. “Damn it,” she said. “That buzzard

  Angus Clyborn did this to you, didn’t he?”

  Becky covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

  A young woman doctor walked into the room with a clipboard

  in her hand. She acknowledged Sadie and Lance with a nod and ap-

  proached Becky. “Are you in pain?” she asked as she felt Becky’s wrist

  for her pulse.

  “I’m okay,” she said, wiping her face with the edge of the sheet.

  “When can I get out of here?”

  “Probably tomorrow,” she said, “if you promise to take it easy and

  not lift anything that weighs more than a couple of pounds.” The doctor

  nodded toward Sadie with knowing eyes, “And your sister will promise

  to take care of you.”

  Sadie glanced down when she realized her lie had been found out.

  Lance stepped forward. “Doctor, can you perform an examination

  to confirm if she’s been raped or not?”

  The doctor looked toward Becky with concern, as a tear fell off

  Becky’s cheek. “Yes, but she will have to sign a consent form.” The

  120

  doctor looked sympathetically at Becky and rubbed her arm. “Do you want to do that, honey?”

  Becky pulled her arm away. “What’s the point?” she said. “It won’t

  make any difference.”

  “Yes, it will.” Lance spoke in a soft, comforting tone. “If you don’t

  take the rape test, there will be no evidence in case you want to file

  charges later. Everything will be kept confidential. No one will know

  except the doctor and us.”

  “I was married to a cop,” Becky blurted. “I know how word gets out.”

  “No, Becky, that won’t happen here.” Sadie stepped closer and

  touched her arm. “You can trust Lance. I promise.”

  “I don’t know what happened before,” Lance said. “But I can guar-

  antee you one thing— nothing will be exposed about this incident until

  you decide what you want to do. However, we need this test to ensure

  that you’re okay and that the person who did this to you didn’t give you

  anything that could cause problems for you later. Let the doctor take

  care of you. You can trust her and her staff, and you can trust Sadie and me.” Lance touched Sadie’s elbow. “We’ll leave you here with the doctor

  to make your decision. I hope you’ll let her help you.”

  Becky cried and nodded at the doctor as Lance and Sadie left the

  room.

  121

  Chapter 21

  Angus parked in front of the Party Barn Bar, grasped an unlit stogy with

  the corner of his mouth, and marched into the place like he owned it.

  The dimly lit bar looked like it had been standing at least a century; the smell of greasy food and stale cigarette smoke permeated the wooden

  walls and floor. Rosy, a robust woman mixing drinks behind the bar, let

  out a laugh that echoed around the room and out the front door.

  “Love you, baby.” She boomed her trademark answer to everything

  and everyone.

  Angus straddled an empty stool right in front of her and gave her a

  wink. “How’s my favorite barmaid today?”

  “That’s bar owner to you, baby face,” she said, her low- cut knit blouse straining to cover her breasts as she wiped the counter. “Ain’t

  been no maids around here in a long time.” She exaggerated the word

  “long” and then belted out another laugh. “You come for your regular?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “And bring me some lemonade.”

  “Drinking heavy, I see.” Rosy scooped ice into a glass and filled it

  with lemonade.

  Angus pulled out his lighter, lit his half- smoked cigar, and waited

  for her to slide the drink to him. When she did, he grabbed her hand.

  “That’s okay, Rosy. I don’t need a barmaid, because I’ve got my own

  gen- u- ine Indian maid. She’s a looker and says she can cook. We’ll be

  finding out if that is true when the next round of hunters show up in a

  week or so.”

  “Find out what?” Rosy razzed him as she pulled her hand away.

  “Whether she’s a looker or whether she can cook?” Her laugh echoed

  throughout the bar before she disappeared into the kitchen. The men in

  the bar let out a room full of belly laughs.

  122

  A voice rose above the laughter. “Angus, you’re so old and stove up, you wouldn’t know a looker if one strolled in here and sat on your lap.”

  Laughter erupted again as Rosy reappeared through the swinging

  kitchen doors, dropped a plate piled high with fried catfish, French fries, and coleslaw in front of Angus, and then moved on to wait on two elderly Indian men who had settled quietly at a corner table.

  Angus rested his cigar in a nearby ashtray and popped a cornmeal

  hushpuppy into his mouth with his fingers. The bar had a regular group

  of lunch customers, and although Angus sat among them every Monday

  and Friday for the weekly catfish special, he didn’t relate to any of them.

  Sure, they would give him a hard time and act like they were his best

  drinking buddies, but they were, in his opinion, nothing but a bunch of

  local drunks, and if he had to guess, they probably lived off welfare. His tax dollars at work, he thought. He liked to have a drink from time to

  time, even though he wasn’t supposed to, but unlike him, these men were

  nothing but a drain on society.

  The man sitting two seats down from Angus piped up. “Tell us more

  about that Indian maid you’ve got, Angus.”

  Angus grinned and talked with a full mouth. “Oh, she’s nice. Real

  nice.”

  “That’s all you’ve got,” the man shot back at Angus. “She’s real

  nice?”

  Angus stood up, pulled his elbows back, and thrust out his pelvis

  twice. When he sat back down, he noticed the two Indian men in the

  corner and gave them a half- hearted smile before turning his attention to one of three television screens strategically mounted on the wall behind

  the bar. He resumed eating.

  Rosy slapped a ticket on the bar in
front of Angus. “I’ll take care of

  that when you’re ready, sweetie.”

  Angus grinned and gave a nod to Rosy. She shouldn’t be calling

  everyone sweetie, Angus thought. She might end up with more than she

  could handle.

  When he’d finished eating, he dropped several bills on his ticket,

  swung around, and slid off his stool. He stood, adjusted his pants, and

  strode out of the bar past the empty corner table.

  “See you Friday, Angus Baby,” Rosy called out behind him.

  123

  ★

  After spending the night at Sycamore Springs General Hospital, the doc-

  tor announced to Becky she could go home. Home? Where was that,

  Becky wondered. She didn’t plan on returning to the Buffalo Ranch as

  long as she lived, even for the few belongings she’d left behind, and se-

  cretly, she wished the whole place would be struck by lightning and go

  up in flames. That, or maybe a tornado could come along and wipe the

  entire ranch off the face of the earth, leaving nothing but barren dirt, as if Angus Clyborn and anything he owned had never existed. She knew

  it wasn’t right to wish anyone harm, but right now she hated that man

  with every inch of her mind, body, and soul.

  The closest thing to “home” was her father’s place, but she couldn’t

  let him see her until the cut above her brow had healed. She had ignored

  his warning, thinking she knew more than he did. If he saw her, she

  was afraid he’d immediately know what had happened, and she couldn’t

  allow that. She’d lied to him on the phone, told him she’d had a little

  episode with her appendix, but that everything was fine, and promised

  to come see him when she felt better. She hoped he wouldn’t detect the

  deceit in her voice like he always had when she was a teenager. She had

  changed since she escaped Delaware County and fled to California, but

  she wasn’t sure she could ever change enough to fool her father.

  Sadie burst through the hospital room door. “I’m here to spring

  you,” she said. Her cheerful voice lit up the room as she placed a brown

  paper sack on the end of Becky’s bed. “I brought you some clothes, too,”

  she said.

  “I don’t know how to thank you, Sadie.” She could feel tears pool-

  ing in her eyes.

  “I thought we might wear about the same size, so I took the liberty