The Lone Texan

by Lass Small

  Ellen wondered who was holding Tom’s hand in the operating room when Tom thought he was still holding hers? He was probably completely passed out and didn’t know one single thing.

  Sitting again in the waiting room, Ellen said to his parents, “He’ll be fine.”

  They smiled at her.

  She thought they were relieved that she’d seemed so sure.

  She got up and casually paced around, as if she was simply restless, and not that she was concerned for their son. Of course not. She was just stretching her bones so that she wouldn’t cramp any muscles for sitting so long in one place.

  She mentioned that casually. It was said quite earnestly so that they could understand. They did and they were courteous about it all.

  After a time, one of the surgeons came out and said everything was fine. He actually told that to the Keepers, but he did look and smile at Ellen. She thought the doctor was being kind to the parents of the victim.

  She found herself asking, “When can we see him?”

  The doctor said, “We’re sewing him right now. It will take a while.”

  They were to wait even longer?

  The surgeon said, “He’s doing very well. We’ll keep Tom close for a while until the anesthetic wears off a bit. When he’s taken to his bed, here, you’ll be told.”

  John said to his wife, “We ought to take Ellen back to the Place. It’s time.”

  “Yes.”

  Ellen put in, “Not right now. I’ll come over later.”

  John said, “The walk will help. Let’s go.”

  John stood up and waited for some response from the recalcitrant although still budding woman.

  Mina agreed with her husband. “Charlie will have something special for us. He doesn’t often get to choose the menu.”

  Ellen was trapped. She said, “For a while.” For whatever that meant.

  They did walk back to the big house. The parents were on either side of Ellen. They guided her quite staunchly. She had no choice.

  Ellen didn’t eat well. She drank the cocoa that Charlie had made for her.

  It had some powder in it that the doctor had suggested. She began to go out like an errant lightbulb. Two of the men volunteered to take her to her room, but all the rest went along. It was Mina who found Ellen’s nightclothes. And it was she and two other women who stripped Ellen and slid her into the easy soft silks.

  She slept.

  She was out of it.

  She didn’t even dream.

  When Ellen awoke, it was the middle of the next morning. She stretched and frowned a bit because she didn’t really remember when she’d gotten into bed! She looked around.

  A tray was on a small table not far from her bed. On the tray, with the food, there was a field daisy in a narrow vase. The plates were covered to hold the heat.

  Now, who had done this? How long ago?

  Ellen slid out of bed and went to the bath to wash her face. Returning, she pulled a chair over to the tray and lifted the lids. It was a breakfast for a king—or maybe a queen.

  She began tasting the delicacies. It was very like those tempting trays she’d had earlier in her stay. All were delicious. And as she ate, she wondered if Tom had gotten something similar?

  She doubted he’d be allowed to eat this soon after such a horrendous saving of his body. And she thought of all Tom had endured.

  Her appetite lessened. She picked very much like the early times when she’d first come there. And she saluted Mina who was so clever with foods.

  What disappeared into Ellen was more than what she’d eaten back when Mina and the staff had first torn their hair over her lacking appetite.

  Ellen showered and dressed...putting her underwear and bra inside out on her fragile flesh as usual. Then she went out to walk over to the Keeper Place clinic.

  As she went inside the building, a nice woman named Freida asked, “What are you here to see?—if it isn’t the Keeper boy?” And she smiled.

  “How did he do? Is he okay?”

  Freida told her, “Go see for yourself. Be quiet. He’s asleep. But you can go peek through the door.”

  Ellen’s eyes got soggy. She smiled and said, “Thank you.” She thought she did very well and had fooled the old woman.

  But Freida immediately called three other women and said, “That darling girl was here for Tom already. And her eyes were all wet.”

  That made the rounds easily enough. Even Mina heard it... probably second.

  Ellen stood in the doorway of Tom’s room and watched him. He slept. He snored gently.

  The man had had surgery! He was out cold!

  But the snore was still soothing. Was he dreaming?

  She said softly, “It’s I, Ellen.”

  His snore snorted and he was silent. He moved a little. He’d heard her!

  She said, “You’re okay. Go back to sleep.”

  He breathed oddly for a few moments, then he slowly relaxed, his breathing deepened and again he snored.

  Ellen’s eyes were wet. She smiled gently. Even out cold in a hospital bed, he could be soothing to a woman! Now that was ridiculous! He was—

  Lu came by. Somebody had called her from the hospital to come get this woman who was languishing in Tom’s doorway and blocking the nurses.

  Lu said, “Come with me.” Just like that!

  Following the swift steps of Lu right out the door, Ellen asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Lu said, “Outside of Tom. everything’s fine.”

  Ellen said sadly, “I just...wonder...”

  “What is it that makes you...wonder.”

  “If Tom’ll be okay.”

  “Sure.” Lu looked over at Ellen. “Nobody’s fooling you. His head’s fine. The doctors have had so many challenging problems with the animals that dealing with a human is easy!”

  “But—”

  Lu sighed with some tolerance as she elaborated, “Tom’s problem is not his brain or face. He’s torn some muscles and broke a couple of bones. He broke one bone in his leg and one in his arm. A couple of his ribs were cracked. He’s really okay.”

  “With two broken bones and cracked ribs?”

  “Well, he does have some torn muscles...”

  “Good gravy! What else!”

  Lu was alert and serious. “Nothing! He’s fine.” She was thoughtful. “I do believe he broke a little finger on one of his hands.”

  That made Ellen burst into tears.

  Lu said, “Good heavens! Now what?” with indignation.

  “I’m used up.” And Ellen blubbered and sobbed and her breaths faltered and wobbled and great big tears spilled from her eyes.

  Lu laughed. But it was so gentle and kind as she gathered Ellen to her that there wasn’t any way, at all, that Ellen could be offended.

  Lu sang “Hush little baby, don’t you cry—” but then she changed the words, and she was salacious and wicked and absolutely hilarious on a man with a broken arm and leg and cracked chest with various torn tendons who made love to a weepy woman.

  That made Ellen laugh. It is very difficult to laugh that hard when one is being quiet so she can hear the words. But she was leaking tears and biting her lips to try to listen past her noisy terror.

  Lu finished the song and loosened her arms as she looked at the mottled face of the fragile female weeper before her. Lu said, “You do realize Tom Keeper loves you?”

  “He’s mentioned it.”

  Lu advised, “Pay attention.”

  With that, Lu just went striding on off across the grass.

  With a voice that wasn’t at all stable, Ellen called, “Where are you going?”

  “To Angela’s. You take care of Tom. I’ll help Angela.”

  Lu turned away again.

  Ellen just stood there. She watched as Lu efficiently walked away. Lu was disciplined and on time. She’d stopped long enough to soothe Ellen enough. She was sassy. Rip was one very lucky man in having Lu staying with him.

  Ellen wondered why
the two were only living together and not yet married?

  With that fleeting question, Ellen then dismissed the whole caboodle and her attention focused on Tom. Nothing else was of any concern.

  Ellen went back to the Keeper house and to her room where she again stripped and crawled into bed. She slept like a log without any pill or shot. Lu had reached her in such a way that she felt Tom was secure.

  In times of stress, it’s always interesting to know who believes whom...or who all.

  Sitting with a sleeping Tom and holding his good hand, Ellen thought about Lu. She was special. She helped everyone.

  Ellen decided she would change. She would quit thinking only of herself, and she would help others.

  She looked at Tom still sleeping easily. Recovering. Healing. And she thought how fragile people are. In all this world, there are too many people who need help. There are too many people.

  Then there were those people who were harmed somehow. Like Tom. How calm were his parents. They understood exactly how much their son was hurt and exactly how serious it could have been. Tom’s parents were aware of what he was going through, but they knew he would be all right.

  It was Ellen who had thought Tom would be a vegetable, alive and dead at the same time. Mindless.

  He was not that. He was all right.

  She looked at Tom, still in the false sleep, and she knew how much she loved him. Could he tolerate her? Or was he just eager to find a woman he could be with?

  She would see.

  Gradually, Tom became more aware of what was around him. He’d had pills for the pain, which had addled his mind somewhat. But Tom knew Ellen was there. Even when she insisted his mother sit with him, Mina accepted that.

  However, when Tom opened his eyes, he looked for Ellen. And when his eyes found her in another chair or standing quietly, he smiled at her.

  His smiles became more alert. As the days passed, Tom became more like his old self and he spoke. He asked, “Everything okay?”

  Then he could say, “Did they find anything out yonder?”

  But they had not.

  Tom said, “We’ll see.” That was his response. He would find out one way or another. He would know who was shooting those humongous bullets and why.

  He watched Ellen.

  His eyes were kind and gentle. His mouth smiled a tad. He liked looking at her. He told her, “I’m glad you’re here.”

  The men who’d been with him when his horse had thrown him, came to see Tom. They didn’t talk about what had happened or why. Not at first.

  The men were seriously careful as they went around the Place on horseback or in Jeeps. They tried to find the large bullet that had scared the bejeezus out of Tom’s horse. They’d found a rift across the front of the horse’s chest.

  No wonder the horses had bolted. What would any creature do that was ripped across his chest. Plowing through the hair, the bullet had not touched the horse’s flesh. It had simply gone across the horse, there, in a startling manner and it had scared the horse frantic!

  The horse hadn’t seen whatever it was that had touched its chest and that was what had caused the horse to pitch Tom. None of the other animals had been touched. But they had caught the dismay of their cohort. They, too, had bolted.

  The crew tried to figure out where the bullet had come from. North west or south west?

  They wondered if somebody was being cute with a humongous barrel. With that long, silent distance for the bullet, did they actually mean to miss the person? Or were they simply too far away. Did they really know the bullet went through Keeper land?

  But there had been the actual killing of the horse belonging to Andrew Parsons. The crew had taken time to look back along the trail of the bullet.

  After that had happened, all the people were then watching and patrolling around the upper west part of Texas. Who would the culprit be? Or would that creature quit and leave them all to wonder as they watched their backs.

  And listened.

  Eight

  Time passed and Tom began to recover. To thank her for sticking by him, Tom decided to give Ellen a dog. It was a grown, serious, trained dog. It considered the female called Ellen with some care. It did not reject her, but it was cautious.

  The dog was named Spike.

  The name made Ellen sigh rather dramatically.

  She bent over and put out the back of her hand to the dog for him to smell as she said, “I shall call you Buddy.”

  But from the clinic’s bed Tom cautioned, “There are about five dogs named Buddy around in this very area. Spike is a tad special. I don’t believe there is one dog named Spike in this whole, entire place.”

  Ellen inquired with lifted eyebrows, “Have you ever checked? Did you call this dog by that name? What does he think of it?”

  “It’s been his name since birth.”

  She laughed with such sparkling, amused eyes.

  Tom watched her. He told Ellen, “If someone you don’t like is near you, the dog’ll protect you. Just tell him to ‘Stay!’ and he’ll pay attention.”

  She said sassily, “So if you get fresh, all’s—”

  “Hush. I’m a useless man locked on a bed and powerless.”

  She licked her lips and smiled at Tom. Her eyes were... wicked!

  He told her in a low growl, “Woman, you cut that out.”

  She was indignant! She asked, “What have I done?” And she looked as innocent as a newborn.

  “When I get out of this damned bed, I’ll explain it all to you.”

  She tilted back her head and looked at him soberly. Then she asked carefully, “In what sort of way?”

  Being a male, he told her logically, “You’ll like it.”

  But his reply made her behave more carefully.

  As the days advanced, Tom was lying in bed and recovering with careful—calisthenics. They were called that. Unfortunately, Ellen was there most of the time. She watched. How can a pitiful human man leak tears and object, groan or gasp in front of a woman?

  Did she leave? No. She watched very earnestly. Then about the third day, she went over to the bed and suggested, “Instead of making him do that, straight out, how about moving his arm this way first?”

  He did that slowly with some moxie. It didn’t hurt as much.

  The exerciser said, “Okay.” He added carefully, “At first. But he’s gotta learn how to reuse those muscles. They were torn and pulled by the horse’s fall.”

  Without thinking, Ellen closed Tom’s hand in hers, and brought it to her cheek. This meant Tom’s forearm was pressed into the valley of her nice breasts. His arm wasn’t even on her breasts but locked between them.

  That was enough to silence Tom’s protests of pain.

  It was later that day when the dog Spike was allowed in Tom’s room. Spike had been Tom’s dog for hunting...whatever. Birds or men...and the dog loved Tom. He was being very noble in staying with the woman whose name was—uh—Ellen.

  The dog went over and laid back his ears very submissively and said a whole lot of things in his throat. He was complaining how boring life was with a female. He was suggesting that Tom find the female another keeper. Not a Keeper, for Pete’s sake, but a dog that was slack enough to tolerate a female woman.

  Tom used his good hand and petted the laid-back ears on the dog’s head as he said all sorts of subtle things about what a lousy dog Spike was and how useless he was to any normal person.

  Spike accepted that joshing as being human humor, but he did sigh with some pathetic drama.

  Ellen explained, “The dog is worried that you’re still in bed.” She was the interpreter. She knew what the dog said.

  Spike rolled his eyes with barely tolerated endurance, indicating the backup, the female woman had just made, as to the dog’s comments.

  Tom licked his lips and bit on a grin. He told the dog, “Be brave. Guard her.”

  The dog subtly rolled his eyes to communicate what a bore it all was.

  With no tole
rance at all, Tom said, “Guard.”

  The dog sighed hugely and went over to the female person and sat nobly beside her.

  Tom smiled at the dog.

  Ellen thought he was smiling at her. “So, you’re feeling better today. You’ve actually smiled.”

  That amused Tom even more. He told her quite honestly, “You’re so good to see.”

  She came to the bed and leaned down so that she could kiss his forehead and see if he was feverish. He could look down the neck of her blouse, past her partially covered rounds of her breasts—almost hanging free—clear down to her leedaloo, which is a tummy button or where the angels poked a forming body to see if it was done.

  Having Ellen around was sweet torture. There he was in bed...and she was not in it with him.

  She could slide out of her clothes and just climb up on him, stuff him in her and give him—release. Yes!

  Fortunately, he had a male nurse who stripped him and the bed and managed to tidy everything without any snide remarks.

  Tom Keeper’s sexual endurance was the gossip of the entire place and the communications shared smiles and exchanged looks of laughter. Everybody knew that Ellen Simpson was taken with Tom Keeper—and it was mutual.

  It was so touching to see the two and watch them. They really didn’t pay any attention to anybody else. Actually, that wasn’t tolerance. They didn’t really know anyone else was around! They only saw each other.

  Food was delivered to them in Tom’s room every day. One of those who delivered the food could not resist saying, “I’ll feed him.” And he’d bite his lower lip to try to cover the laugh.

  Every time, Ellen would lift a hand and waggle it as she said earnestly, “I’ll do that.” And she said, “Never mind, you go ahead and do the other trays. I’ll help Tom.” She said, “I know how many animals you have to feed. I’ll do this one.” And she’d smile.

  Whoever of the crew who had delivered the meal there, always laughed. And they shared that laughter with Tom, but they shared that plus comments with their cohorts.