by Al Lacy
Jody would rather be at the barn doing chores with her father, but since Betty had been invited for the meal, she graciously stayed inside so she would be there when Betty arrived.
The Claiborne kitchen was redolent with the enticing aromas of pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, and hot coffee.
While Jody was setting the table, Emma dried her hands on a dish towel. She draped the towel on its rack and stepped up behind her daughter, placing a hand on each shoulder. “Honey …”
Jody put the last piece of silverware at her father’s plate. “Yes, Mommy?”
Emma looked in her bright eyes. “Honey, I don’t mean to be a nag about your racing with Betty, but I’m asking you to be careful. I wouldn’t be so concerned if you were just riding. It’s the speed you ride when you’re racing that worries me. If Queenie would step in a prairie dog hole—”
“Mommy, I’m always careful. Betty and I know that prairie out there like the back of our hand. We don’t ride where we know the prairie dogs live. Please remember I’ve been riding since I was old enough to sit in a saddle.” She grinned, trying to reassure her mother and dispel the frown on her brow. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can handle a horse.”
Emma kissed her cheek. “All right, dear. I’ll try not to be a worrywart.”
Jody kissed her mother’s cheek and gave her a quick hug. “I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, honey.”
“Hello-o-o-o!” came Betty’s voice from the just outside the back window of the kitchen. “Sure smells good from out here! Breakfast ready?”
“Just about!” called Jody, moving up to the window. “Come on in!”
As she spoke, Jody saw her father coming from the barn. She opened the door. “Where’s Millie?”
“I have her tied out by the front porch. Just figured I’d save you coming all the way to the front door to let me in.”
Emma greeted Betty as Sam came up the steps and entered the kitchen.
He and Betty exchanged good mornings, and as soon as Sam had washed his hands, they sat down at the table. Sam led in prayer, thanking the Lord for the food, and as they began to eat, Sam said, “Well, girls, where’s your race going to take you today?”
Betty was drinking milk from a tin cup, so Jody decided to answer the question. “We’ve agreed to race each other for the seven-mile stretch from here to that rock formation due north. You know, they call it Eagle Rock.”
Sam nodded. “You’ve raced to that spot before.”
“Mm-hmm, but it’s been a while.”
Betty giggled as she set her cup down. “And poor Jody and Queenie are going to get beat again.”
Jody shook her head, putting on a mock scowl. “No way, blondie. Since you and Millie beat us the last time we raced to Eagle Rock, I snuck over to your corral last night, and had a heart-to-heart talk with Millie. She told me that she and Queenie had agreed that it was our turn to win the Eagle Rock race.”
They all had a good laugh and then talked about last Sunday morning’s service when little Susie gave her testimony at the close of the invitation, and her baptism on Sunday evening.
Sam wiped his mouth with a napkin. “While you girls are helping Emma clean up the kitchen and the dishes, I’ll go to the barn and saddle up Queenie for you, Jody.”
Jody thanked him, and the ladies went to work on the dishes.
By the time Sam came from the barn leading the magnificent bay mare, the dishes were done and the kitchen was clean. Emma and the girls were waiting for him on the front porch.
When Millie caught sight of Queenie, she lifted her head high and whistled. Queenie bobbed her head and whistled back. Her whistle was shrill, clear, and strong.
Jody laughed. “Did you hear that? In horse language, Millie just said that she and Betty are going to win today. But Queenie told her in no uncertain terms that she is wrong. She and I are going to win the race!”
Everybody had a good laugh again.
Jody and Betty mounted up.
As she settled in the saddle, Jody looked at her parents. “We’ll be back before noon.”
“If you girls aren’t something else,” said Sam. “Have fun.”
Queenie reared up, whistling shrilly, ready for the race. Millie nickered and began to prance.
Jody looked at her best friend. “Betty, we’ll have to warm the horses up before we put them to a gallop.”
Betty nodded. “We’ll trot them for a couple of miles, then start the race.”
“All right. Let’s go.”
As the girls trotted away toward the north, Sam set admiring eyes on his daughter and put his arm around Emma. “You know, honey, that slip of a girl was born to ride a horse. She’s as strong and lithe as an Indian, and as I’ve said before, she rides like a burr sticking in a horse’s mane.”
Emma chuckled. “You sound just like a father.”
Sam and Emma watched the trotting horses until they faded from view, then Sam said, “Well, Mrs. Claiborne, it looks like I have to clean that old barn out there all by myself, since my ‘boy’ is out there trying to show Betty who’s boss of the race track!”
Chapter Eight
When Jody Claiborne and Betty Houston had trotted their horses some two miles from the Circle C ranch, they drew rein. When both mares stopped, they tossed their heads and snorted. They knew the race was about to begin.
Jody’s attention was drawn to the west. She pointed that direction with her chin. “Look there, Betty.”
Betty’s gaze followed to the army patrol unit. “Uh-huh. They’re probably from Fort Laramie.”
“I’d say so. Aren’t you glad things have calmed down with the Cheyenne and the Arapaho so we can ride like this without being in danger?”
“Sure am. But it’s always nice to see those cavalrymen out patrolling. Makes me feel safe.”
Jody patted Queenie’s neck. “Well, Miss Lightning, are you ready to run this race?”
Queenie bobbed her head and snorted.
The girls looked at each other. They had set a pattern. To start the race fairly, one of them would toss a stone into the air and when it hit the ground, the race was on.
Betty grinned. “Since it’s your turn to start the race, Miss Slowpoke, I’ll wait while you fetch a stone.”
Jody snickered as she slipped from the saddle. “Miss Slowpoke, huh? Well, you’re about to become an Indian.”
Betty’s eyebrows arched. “An Indian?”
“Uh-huh. Miss Dust-in-the-Face.”
Betty laughed and shook her head. “We’ll see about that!”
Jody bent over, picked up a stone a little smaller than her fist, then mounted again. She drew Queenie up close beside Millie and offered her right hand. “Shake?”
“Sure.”
Betty gripped her hand and shook it. “Okay, kiddo, let’s go.”
Jody backed Queenie up, then moved her forward so the horses were some six feet apart and their noses were even.
Millie’s sage gray body was as sleek and shiny as satin as she swished her tail.
Queenie tossed her head and champed her bit. Her muscles rippled under her reddish brown coat.
Adjusting herself in the saddle, Jody glanced at Betty, then tossed the stone some thirty feet high so it would land just ahead of them.
The girls bent forward in their saddles and waited for the stone to hit the ground. Both of them felt a thrill in their veins. When the rock plopped in the dust, they put their horses to a gallop instantly, and the race was on to the sound of thundering, rhythmic hoofbeats.
Within half a minute, Jody was two lengths ahead of her best friend.
Betty snapped the reins and called for Millie to go faster, but Queenie seemed determined to win and kept gaining ground. Queenie was running for the love of running as the girl bending over her was riding for the love of riding. Jody’s motion was one with the horse. Her long, dark hair flew in the wind.
Betty and Millie were still losing ground as Jody and Queen
ie pulled farther ahead of them, seemingly with each stride. Betty continued to urge her mare on, bent low, with her long blond hair a bright stream of gold in the wind.
When Eagle Rock came into view, Jody was some twenty yards ahead of Betty, who was still doing her best to get more speed out of her gray roan. By the time they were within a mile of Eagle Rock, Jody was more than thirty yards ahead. There was a creek close by, and both girls saw another army patrol unit. The men in blue were out of their saddles, watering their mounts. The racing horses quickly caught the attention of the majority of them. Some of them pointed, saying something to those who were not yet aware of the race, and quickly, all of them smiled and waved. The girls waved in return.
A moment later, Jody looked back at Betty, who was now gaining on her a little. Directly in Queenie’s path, a large diamondback rattler as thick as a man’s wrist was swiftly coiling into attack position. Its flat, wide head was pointed directly at the oncoming horse and rider with its greenish black tongue flicking in and out of its mouth menacingly and its angry black eyes flashing. The rattles in its tail were in a steady whir.
Jody was still looking back at Betty when Queenie spotted the snake, which was now no more than a few strides away. Queenie stiffened her legs, but when she saw that she was skidding toward the deadly reptile, she attempted a sidestep to avoid it. Jody was facing forward, her feet pressed hard into the stirrups as she pulled back on the reins. Because of Queenie’s speed, the frantic sidestep threw her off balance. She lost her footing and went down headfirst.
Betty jerked back on the reins as she saw Jody fly out of the saddle. She caught a glimpse of the snake as it was slithering off the path toward a large boulder. Jody sailed through the air, her arms and legs flailing, and hit the ground hard. Her momentum sent her rolling helplessly until her head struck a rock that stuck out of the ground.
Queenie struggled to get up, and when she once again had her legs under her, she staggered about unsteadily, then looked back at Betty, who was skidding Millie to a halt. Queenie whinnied softly, shaking her head.
Betty was out of the saddle immediately and knelt down beside the unconscious Jody. There was a deep gash on the side of her head where it had struck the rock and blood was flowing freely. Betty cradled Jody’s head and upper body in her lap. She pulled the handkerchief from around her own neck, pressed it against the gash to stay the flow of blood.
“Jody! Jody! Can you hear me? Open your eyes, please! Please, Jody, you’ve got to be all right!” Jody’s lack of response caused panic to set in. “Jody-y-y! Jody-y-y! Wake up! Wake up!”
Suddenly, two of the cavalrymen were at Betty’s side while the others were just bringing their mounts to a halt. She looked at them. “Jody’s hurt bad! I’m afraid she’s going to die!”
One of the men was the officer in charge of the patrol unit. The other was a sergeant. The lieutenant laid a hand on Betty’s shoulder and said calmly, “Try to get hold of yourself, little lady. We’re going to help you take care of her.”
The other men were gathering close as the lieutenant lifted the hand that held the handkerchief against the gash, examined it, and placed Betty’s hand on it once again. “Pretty deep, all right. What’s your name, little lady?”
“Betty Houston. She’s my best friend. Her name is Jody Claiborne. Oh, please don’t let her die!”
“We’ll get her into town to the clinic.” The lieutenant looked up at his men. “The girl is unconscious and bleeding profusely. We’ve got to get her to the clinic in Cheyenne as soon as possible. Corporal Hayden, take Private Willis and ride over there to that ranch just beyond the creek. Borrow a team and wagon. Hurry!”
Hayden and Willis wheeled, dashed to their horses, and galloped away.
The lieutenant then called for the sergeant to get his canteen for him from his saddle. It was done quickly, and as the lieutenant bathed Jody’s face and the gash with the cool water, he looked at Betty. “What happened? Did her horse stumble?”
“Only when she saw a big rattlesnake and tried to avoid it. The snake was coiled and ready to strike.”
All of the men heard Betty’s words, and suddenly one of them said, “Lieutenant, I just saw what I thought was a snake slithering over there around the base of that boulder.” With that, he dashed to his horse, whipped his rifle out of the saddle boot, and headed toward the boulder.
The lieutenant capped his canteen, handed it to the sergeant, and took his bandanna from his hip pocket. “You did a good job with this kerchief, but since my bandanna’s much larger, I’ll wrap her head with it. While we ride the borrowed wagon into town, you can press the kerchief against the gash to help keep it from bleeding.”
Betty nodded, looked at the pallid face of her unconscious friend. “I’m sure glad you and your men were close. I don’t know what I would have done.”
At that instant the crack of a rifle split the air, echoing across the prairie. One of the men said, “Clete just killed the rattler, Lieutenant.”
The lieutenant nodded and looked back down at the unconscious girl. As he began wrapping Jody’s head with the bandanna, he said, “Betty, my name is Tom Bell. The sergeant is Dale Dixon. We’re out of Fort Laramie.”
“I’m glad to meet both of you.”
Bell finished his wrapping job. “Betty, why don’t you go ahead and press your kerchief against the gash?”
Betty nodded.
“Where are you girls from?”
“Just south of here a few miles, sir. My parents own the Box H ranch and Jody’s parents own the Circle C ranch. Jody and I race each other a lot on our horses. Today, we were racing to Eagle Rock.”
As she spoke, Betty saw one of the men leading Queenie toward them.
When he drew up, he said, “Lieutenant, the girl’s mare is all right. As you can see, she scuffed up the side of her head a little when she fell, but she’s okay.”
Bell nodded. “Good. Thanks for checking on her, Clyde.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
“Oh, thank the Lord Queenie’s all right,” said Betty. “Jody loves that horse dearly.”
Bell rose to his feet. “Betty, you keep the pressure on the spot. I’m going to have a look at that snake. Those two men ought to be here with a wagon pretty soon.”
“I’ll take care of her, sir.”
While they were waiting for Corporal Rex Hayden and Private George Willis to return with a borrowed wagon, Betty kept the pressure on the gash and looked at Jody’s face.
“Jody, please wake up,” whispered Betty. “Oh, dear Lord, please make her wake up.”
Tears began to flow, and a couple of the men who stood close by moved up to Betty’s side. One of them knelt down and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t cry, honey. Your friend is going to be all right. We’ll get her to the doctor. He’ll bring her around.”
Betty used her free hand to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. “Thank you for the encouragement, sir.”
“Lieutenant, Rex and George are coming!” called one of the men.
Everybody looked to see the wagon coming with the team at a gallop. Corporal Rex Hayden was at the reins. Private George Willis was following on his horse while leading Hayden’s riderless mount. When they drew up in a cloud of dust, Lieutenant Tom Bell told two of the men to pick up Jody and carry her to the wagon. With Betty at his side, he rushed ahead, telling her that the two of them would sit in the wagon bed. He would hold Jody in his arms so he could cushion her against the jolts. Betty would sit beside him and keep the pressure on Jody’s wound.
When they reached the wagon, Bell picked Betty up and placed her in the wagon bed, then hopped in. While Jody was laid in the lieutenant’s arms and Betty pressed the kerchief firmly over the spot where the bandanna was showing some blood, the men mounted up. Three of them were leading Queenie, Millie, and Bell’s horse.
The wagon team was put to a gallop, and the rest of the patrol unit followed.
While bouncing in the wagon and doing her job to
stay the flow of blood, Betty prayed in her heart, asking the Lord to let Jody live.
All morning long, as Emma Claiborne did her housework and sewed on a new dress for Jody, a heavy sense of foreboding had dominated her mind.
The Wyoming sun was now past its apex in the crystal clear sky as she sat alone in the swing on the front porch of the house, staring across the plains to the north. It was after one o’clock. Jody had assured them that she and Betty would be back before noon.
Sam came out the door and looked to the north. “No sign of them yet, I see.”
“Nothing,” Emma said. “Sam, I haven’t said anything to you about it, but I’ve had an uneasy feeling for some time about the girls racing. I talked to Jody about it this morning. I told her I wasn’t against them riding together, but I was concerned about the speed when they raced. She told me there was nothing to be concerned about because she and Betty were experienced riders. I tried to shrug it off, saying I’m just a worrywart. But with them being late, I’m worrying again.”
Emma was wringing her hands while keeping her eyes on the plains to the north.
Sam eased onto the swing beside her. “Now, now, Mother,” he said, making his voice calm, “remember the old saying, ‘Don’t start swimming until you hit the water.’ You know those two are very good at losing track of the time when they’re out riding. But to ease your mind, I’ll go saddle Midnight and see if I can find them.”
When he stood up and headed for the porch steps, Sam’s attention was drawn to two riders galloping down the road from the south. When he paused to focus on them, Emma turned and looked at him. “What is it?”
“Couple of riders in a big hurry, coming from the south.”
Emma left the swing and moved up beside him. “Looks like army men.”
“Uh-huh.”
When the riders slowed and turned into the Circle C gate, Emma grabbed her husband’s arm. “Something’s wrong.”
Sam patted her hand. “Now, honey, don’t fret. Let’s see what they have to say.”
As the riders drew near, Sam and Emma moved down the steps to meet them. When they came to a halt, the man with the lieutenant’s insignias on his shirt said, “You’re Mr. and Mrs. Claiborne?”