A Handyman for Helen

by Amelia C. Adams

  Zeke brought his horse up alongside the wagon so he could speak with Jack. “What do you think? Should we keep going or turn back?”

  “We’re about halfway, aren’t we? Might as well keep going,” Jack replied, raising his voice to be heard over the pelting rain.

  “Agreed. A little water never hurt anyone, right?”

  “A little water?” Helen looked at him with wide eyes. “Do you call this a little water?”

  “I was just tryin’ for a joke, Miss Helen,” Zeke replied. “No need to take this situation too seriously.”

  He couldn’t hear her reply, but then again, it was probably best that he couldn’t. She didn’t look like she’d calmed down any from her earlier snit, and he didn’t imagine that her words were very kind.

  They pressed forward, and Zeke could tell that Jack was having a hard time encouraging the horses. They seemed worried about the path ahead, and Zeke couldn’t blame them. With the clouds so completely obscuring the sky, it was gray and dismal, and it might even have been getting darker. His own horse was starting to get skittish, and that’s what made Zeke worry—his mount was as steady and reliable as any he’d ever known, and if it was showing nerves now, maybe they should have turned back after all.

  He strained to see through the grayness. Was there a copse of trees where they could wait out the storm? He didn’t remember one, and he couldn’t see one either. The terrain on this portion of the journey was flat and barren save for a few gently sloping hills. Another crack of lightning had him doubting every decision he’d made all day. The road was nothing but mud, and his horse was fighting to keep its footing.

  Suddenly, Zeke heard the scream of a horse, the scream of a woman, and the snapping of wood all in quick succession. He wasn’t actually sure which he heard first. He whipped his head to see that the wagon was sliding off the side of the road, and Jack was fighting to keep the horses under control.

  Zeke pulled up on the reins and brought his horse to a stop, then jumped to the ground and raced over to the wagon. He assessed the situation as quickly as he could and saw that the back axle had snapped from the weight of the load, and the horses were sliding in the mud. They were frightened and trying to escape, pulling against the lines and nearly knocking Jack over. He stood in front of the wagon seat instead of sitting on it, bracing his feet and trying to use his weight to establish some sort of authority by hauling on the lines, but the horses didn’t seem to care. The girls were still huddled together, but they gripped the edge of the seat with white-knuckled hands.

  First priority was getting the horses under control. Zeke ran around and grabbed the halter of the horse on the left, pulling it and trying to encourage the animal back onto the road. If it listened, it would pull the other horse with it—but it didn’t listen. It acted as though Zeke wasn’t even there, so he grabbed the other horse instead, praying that it would mind him.

  Instead, the animal became frightened and lashed out with its hooves. Pain seared through his head as it connected with flying feet.

  “Zeke!” he heard Helen scream as he hit the muddy ground, the wind knocked clean from his lungs.

  Chapter Four

  It had been a perfectly miserable day, and when the rain started to pour down from the sky, it was fitting. What better finale could there be to this frustrating trip than to arrive back at the ranch looking like a drowned muskrat? Helen watched the thousands upon thousands of raindrops hit the road in front of her with a scowl on her face, seeing the dirt and dust transform into thick, sticky, gritty mud.

  She grasped her side of the jacket Jack offered and pulled it around her neck, knowing her hair would be an utter ruin and not even trying to save it.

  Lost in the rhythm of the drops pelting all around them, Helen wasn’t sure how long it had been or how far they’d come when she was suddenly jerked forward, almost unable to catch herself before she tumbled off the seat. As she managed to come upright again, she saw that the horses were sliding off the road, and the wagon was definitely off-kilter.

  “Are you all right?” she called out to Wynonna.

  “I’m fine,” her friend replied, looking every bit as shaken as Helen felt.

  Jack was battling to calm the horses, and then Zeke was there, grabbing the animals and doing what he could as well. Helen couldn’t imagine what the poor things must be suffering—it was a terrifying storm. She’d never been fond of lightning, and the sky seemed even more gray than it had moments before.

  She thought for sure the men had everything under control, but then she watched in horror as the horse on the right reared back and kicked, knocking Zeke to the ground with a hoof.

  Jack leaped down from the wagon seat and grabbed the horse, shouting at it and dragging it away from Zeke’s body. Without thinking about it, Helen jumped down too, almost tumbling into the mud instead of landing on her feet. She dropped to her knees next to Zeke, taking note of the jagged cut on his forehead. Was that from the horse’s hoof, or something else? It looked dreadful, whatever it was.

  Wynonna must have jumped down immediately after her, for she was there at Helen’s side just a moment later. “We need to get him out of the way,” she called out over the noise of the storm. Zeke wasn’t conscious and couldn’t respond when they spoke to him, so they each took an arm and dragged him as carefully as they could off the road and into the prairie grasses, where he would hopefully be safe from the prancing horses’ hooves.

  Helen reached under her skirt and pulled off a strip of her petticoat, then pressed it to Zeke’s forehead. His wound was being washed clean by the rain, but it was still bleeding enough to make the bandage red within seconds. The rain diluted the color to pink, a sickly shade that was a far cry from the color of the dogwood blossoms Helen so loved, and it made her stomach feel ill.

  She looked up and met Wynonna’s worried gaze. “I don’t know what to do for him,” she called out.

  “Keep pressing the cloth on the wound,” her friend replied. “Jack has the horses calmed down—let me talk to him and see what we need to do next.”

  Helen nodded, keeping the pressure on the wound steady. Zeke was breathing rhythmically, which was a good sign as far as she knew. She remembered that Jack was a medic. He’d know what to do, and he’d likely be much calmer about it than she currently felt.

  She looked over and saw that Jack was pulling wood from the back of the wagon and placing it on the ground. What on earth? What could he possibly be hoping to accomplish? But then she saw him pin the lines under the wood and she realized he was making the horses think they were still being held tight. She didn’t know if that would fool them during another crack of lightning, but she supposed it was the best way for him to be in two places at the same time.

  He came to her side and knelt next to Zeke’s head. “Here,” he said, pulling off his hat and hovering it over Zeke’s face. “Hold this for me.”

  Helen did as she’d been asked, shielding Zeke’s face from the rain while Jack checked his pupils for dilation. Then Jack sat back on his heels. “We’ve got to get him some help,” he said. “Ordinarily, we’d put him in the back of the wagon, but the axle’s cracked—it’s not going anywhere. I’ll ride into town for the doctor.”

  Helen looked up at Wynonna, whose lips were pressed tightly together. “You can’t leave him,” she said, and Wynonna nodded. “You’re the only one who knows how to take care of him.”

  “But he needs a doctor,” Jack repeated. “He could die without one.”

  “Listen, Jack,” Wynonna said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We may not be cowboys, but we can help. We have three horses at our disposal. I’ll take one and ride to the ranch for a spare wagon, and Helen will take another one and ride into town for the doctor—or vice versa. It doesn’t really matter. You stay here with Zeke and keep him alive until help comes.”

  Jack looked back and forth between the two of them. “You’d do that?”

  Helen hadn’t been sure what she’d do until Wynon
na laid out the plan, but now she nodded. “Absolutely. And we’ll take the wood and tarp from the wagon and make a little tent before we go to keep the water off Zeke’s wound. He’s already drenched, so there’s not a lot we can do about that, but we can help that blood clot.”

  Jack nodded slowly. “And you’re sure you’ll be all right?”

  “We’ll be fine. No matter what happens, we’ll certainly be better off than Zeke.” Wynonna turned to Helen. “Let’s get that tarp arranged.”

  Working together, they had a passable lean-to constructed within a few minutes. Jack unhooked the horses from the wagon and laid the tongue on the ground.

  “I don’t know if there’s anything useful in the picnic basket or the packages we got at the store, but here they are,” Helen said, placing an armload next to Zeke’s unconscious form. Wynonna set another load next to the first. “Good luck, Jack.”

  He passed a hand down his face. “If there was another way, I wouldn’t be sending you out in this.”

  “If there was another way, we wouldn’t be going,” Helen told him, forcing a smile. Then she turned to Wynonna. “We only have one horse with a saddle. I’ve ridden bareback a few times, but for short distances only.”

  “I never have at all,” Wynonna replied. “I’ve only used a saddle.”

  “Then you take Zeke’s horse, and I’ll take one of the wagon horses,” Helen said.

  Wynonna reached out and caught her arm. “Are you sure? This seemed like such a good idea when I suggested it, but now I don’t know.”

  Helen met her friend’s gaze. Water ran down her forehead and into her eyes, but her expression didn’t waver. “We have to save Zeke’s life. Or at least try.”

  Wynonna just stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Be careful.”

  “You too.”

  Helen marched over to one of the wagon horses and studied it. Thankfully, it still wore its halter. She led the animal over to the wagon and used a wheel as a ladder of sorts to scramble up on the horse’s back. She must have looked a sight—skirts and legs going every which way, but she didn’t have time to do it properly. Even if she’d shown the whole world her underthings, she trusted that Jack was enough of a gentleman not to bring it up.

  “You ride for the ranch,” Wynonna shouted over the wind. “It’s closer. I’ll be all right heading for town.”

  Helen nodded. At first, she thought she’d go for the doctor, but considering that she didn’t have a saddle, Wynonna’s suggestion made the most sense. It wouldn’t do for her to be slipping around on the horse’s back for a number of extra miles.

  She dug her heels into the horse’s sides and leaned over, hugging its neck as it began to trot. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask if these wagon horses were used to being ridden, but as Jack hadn’t objected to the plan when he’d heard it, she supposed it would be all right.

  At times, it was difficult to see the edges of the road, and she felt like she was just following a giant mud slick across the prairie. The horse seemed to know where it was going, though, and she trusted its instincts. It wasn’t a stranger to this land like she was.

  Another flash of lightning streaked the sky, and she felt the horse tremble. “It’s all right,” she called out, hoping she sounded soothing over the wind. “We’ll both be fine. We have to be. Zeke needs us.”

  As she said his name, she felt a flash of guilt similar to the lightning. Why had she been so prideful? He’d agreed to stay in town when she suggested it, but she’d chosen to take his words and use them as a weapon. If she’d thanked him for being willing to ride out the storm, perhaps they could have had a nice dinner and stayed warm and dry at the hotel. Her foolish overreaction had brought them to this point, and now Zeke was paying the price for it.

  She could no longer tell if it was dark because of the storm or if night was falling. Up ahead, she could make out a few pinpricks of light, and she realized she was drawing nearer to the ranch. Thank goodness. Her fingers were stiff and sore, and her whole body felt frozen in the crouched position she’d had to maintain to stay on the horse while it galloped.

  The horse trotted into the yard and let out a high whinny. That acted as an alarm of sorts—two men came out of the bunkhouse and ran over to her, grabbing the horse by the halter and easing Helen to the ground. Her muscles were so cramped, she almost buckled into the mud, but the man who’d helped her down from the horse kept a grip on her. She looked up to see that it was Gallagher. Frisco was leading the horse toward the stables.

  “Need help,” she gasped, realizing she was out of breath. “The wagon axle broke, a horse kicked Zeke in the head, Jack’s staying with him, and Wynonna’s riding for the doctor.”

  “Hold up a second,” Gallagher said. “Let’s get you inside and then you can say that all again.”

  Wes appeared from somewhere and took Helen’s other arm, helping Gallagher get her up the stairs of the main house and into the parlor. Wade came out from the back room, where he must have been sitting with Margaret, and Helen wished she didn’t have such awful news to lump on top of everything else they were dealing with.

  Rowena had been sitting in the parlor with a book when they came in, and now she draped a blanket around Helen’s shoulders. “I’ll get her some coffee,” she said to no one in particular.

  “Now, Miss Helen, suppose you tell us what’s going on,” Gallagher said, crouching down in front of her chair and meeting her eyes.

  “About five miles out from here, the wagon axle broke,” Helen said, purposely slowing her words so she’d make more sense this time. “Zeke tried to get the horses under control, but they were scared, and one kicked him in the head. He’s bleeding out there on the trail. Jack’s with him now. Wynonna’s gone for the doctor, and I’ve come here for a new wagon and some supplies. We’ll need some bandages at the very least, and—”

  Rowena pressed a coffee mug into her hands. “I think what you need is to get warm and dry. You can’t go back out in this.”

  “But Zeke’s hurt, and it’s my fault,” Helen said. “I need to help him.”

  “No, it’s my fault.” Old Sully stood in the doorway, the very picture of regret. “I told him to take that wagon because I thought the other one needed a good greasin’. Turns out, the one he took was faulty too.”

  “You can’t blame yourself, Sully,” Wade said. “You did what you thought was best.”

  “Yeah, well, it didn’t do Zeke much good.” Sully looked down at the rug. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m too old for this job these days.”

  “Who’s been saying that?” Gallagher asked, coming to his feet. “I’ll punch them senseless.”

  Helen raised a hand. “Let’s figure out who needs to be punched later, all right? For now, Jack and Zeke are out there on the trail, and they need help.”

  “Right.” Gallagher turned back to her. “So, what do we need? A wagon, you said. Sully, can you go hitch up the hay wagon? It’s in decent shape, isn’t it?”

  “Should be, but what do I know?” Sully mumbled. “Fine, fine, I’ll hitch it up.” He left the room, his limp a bit more pronounced than before.

  “Bandages, blankets, and some hot soup,” Helen said.

  “I can gather those.” Rowena headed back into the kitchen, intent on her task.

  “This horse that kicked Zeke,” Wade began. “Did it seem crazed to you, or was it still in its right mind?”

  “I think it was just frightened of the lightning,” Helen replied. “I don’t know for sure, though—it’s still back at the accident site. I rode the other one back here.”

  He nodded. “We’ll need to check the animal and make sure it’s all right. Sometimes animals lose their minds and have to be put down.”

  “You mean, you might have to kill it?”

  “We do everything we can to avoid it, but sometimes . . .” Wade’s voice trailed off. “You get yourself changed and fed, Miss Helen. Gallagher will take a few men and ride out to fetch Zeke. Everything w
ill be all right.”

  “But that’s just it. Should Zeke be fetched, or should he stay where he is so the doctor can reach him sooner? Maybe . . . maybe they should put him in the wagon so he’s not on the wet ground anymore, but wait to bring him until he’s been looked at.”

  Wade placed a hand on Helen’s shoulder. “They’ll assess that when they get there. These are good men—they’ll use their heads and make the proper choice.”

  Helen pulled in a deep breath and then took a sip of her coffee. Wade was making sense, and she needed to calm down. She wasn’t the only one who could arrive at a logical course of action—she needed to step back and trust that they could manage without her there to tell them every little thing to do.

  Oh, but how she still wished she could go along.

  Within minutes, the rescue party was riding out of the yard, six men with a fresh wagon, new horses, and blankets and bandages wrapped in a tarp. Rowena had found several good things in the kitchen, and hopefully Zeke would wake up so he could take some nourishment.

  “All right, you’ve seen them off, and now it’s time for you to get changed,” Rowena said. She took the mug and set it on the end table, then wrapped her arm around Helen’s shoulders and helped her stand. “You’re soaked clean through, and your shivering is getting worse.”

  “I didn’t even notice,” Helen said. “Are you sure there isn’t more we can do?”

  “Now, young lady,” Rowena said, and Helen obediently followed her into the back room.

  This wasn’t the cabin where Helen was staying, but all her things were across the yard, and she wasn’t about to dash through the rain to get them. Instead, she accepted the loan of a nightgown and stockings from Rowena, but her fingers were so numb, she almost couldn’t manage the buttons.