Tag: cattling

Water in the Wilderness

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Excerpt

them the benefit of the doubt. They’re Ruby’s niece and nephew and her children’s cousins, so maybe she does love them, and wants to give them a home.”
For a few minutes they lay silently in the stillness of the house. A faint breeze riffled the curtains at the window, and Tyne felt its cool fingers on her shoulder. The tensions and sadness of the day had been made more oppressive by the heat, and she welcomed the respite of the night.
“We hardly knew the children until two weeks ago,” Morley mused, “which makes me realize we should be more involved with people in the community.”
“But you have been involved, Morley,” Tyne protested. “Look how much you did to get a new hospital in Emblem. And you’re on the Board of Directors.”
“But that doesn’t mean I know what’s going on in families and what their needs are.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know the answer, Tyne. I just know that, as good Christians and good citizens, we should be more open to the needs of people around us.”
Tyne snuggled her head against his chest. “You’re a good man, Morley Cresswell.” She smiled into the darkness. “You know what? I’ve come to love those kids. Is it possible to become so fond of them in such a short time, or is it a passing phase, like a person becomes infatuated with a member of the opposite sex?”
Morley chuckled. “Ah no, I know what you mean, hon. It’s nothing like infatuation. I’ve fallen in love with them, too.”
“You know,” Tyne said, “I have to confess I was scared to death of them coming here. I didn’t know how to handle kids, and I wasn’t sure I would even like them very much.”
“You’ve done a good job with them, Tyne.”
“Thanks for saying that, honey. But when Rachael yelled at me the other day, saying I’m not her mommy, it really hurt. I wondered where I’d gone wrong.”
Morley’s arm tightened around her. “She’s hurting, and she’s angry. It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do.”
“I know,” Tyne whispered. “I’m too sensitive.”

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Still Waters

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His face, which a moment before had been bright and expectant,
lost its glow. “Some other night then?”
“No Cam, I’m sorry I can’t.” She hesitated only briefly. “I have a
boyfriend back home. We’re practically engaged. It wouldn’t be right
for me to date anyone else.” Feeling remorseful when she saw his hurt
look, she added quickly, “Please understand, Cam.”
His smile was gentle, if regretful. “I do understand, Tyne. And it’s
all right, really. My loss.” He held out his hand. “I’m glad we met.
Who knows, someday we may find ourselves working in the same
hospital.”
Tyne had smiled and gripped his hand firmly. “You bet, that would
be great. Goodbye, Cam.”
As she opened the door to 215 on Friday afternoon, she prayed he
would not be in the room.
Arthur Tournquist, in his bathrobe, sat in an easy chair near the
window. Tyne saw immediately that he had a visitor, but not Cam.
The man who turned to face her as she walked through the door was
her father.
“Dad,” she gasped, “what are you doing here?”
He got to his feet and crossed the room to embrace her. “Surprised
you, didn’t I, daughter?” With his arm around her, he led her to the
window and sat down again across from Arthur.
“But I don’t understand,” Tyne said, glancing from one to the other.
“It’s simple enough,” Jeffery Milligan said, “I came to see my old
friend, of course.”
“Oh,” she said, still a little bewildered. She had not realized their
friendship merited a hospital visit from a distance of a hundred and
fifty miles. “But how did you know Mr. Tournquist was ill, Dad?”
“I called him, Miss Milligan. Not to inform him I was ill, particularly,
but to tell him I’d met his lovely daughter.”
Tyne looked at her patient and was surprised to see the mischief
glinting from his eyes – eyes so much like Cam’s.
“I had some business to discuss with my old friend here,” Jeff said,
“and I thought it would be a good chance to see you, too, Tyne. Arthur
tells me you have a day off tomorrow, which works out perfectly.”
Alarm bells immediately sounded in Tyne’s head. Business to discuss?
Had her dad seriously considered Mr. Tournquist’s offer of a job
on the Herald? Would he even consider leaving Emblem and the Echo?

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Still Waters

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He made a pretence of covering his face with his hands. “Oh no,
please. Only my parents call me Cameron. Everyone else calls me Cam.”
“Okay, Cam. By the way, your dad said you’re here from Vancouver.
May I ask what you do there?”
“I’m a fourth year medical student at the University of British Columbia.”
Tyne’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“So you see, we have more in common than our fathers being
friends. But I’m surprised Dad didn’t tell you. He usually brags about
me to everyone he meets.”
Tyne smiled. “I’m sure he would have gotten around to it. Right
now I think he’s more concerned about losing his gall bladder than
anything else.” She smiled. “And your mother? I’ll bet she’s really
proud of you, too.”
Cam shrugged. “Well, yes and no. Mom was disappointed I didn’t
go into the priesthood. But I didn’t think I could live the celibate life.”
To Tyne’s relief, the waitress came to take their order. She had no
wish to pursue the topic which his last statement could have introduced.
She had known his father was Catholic. And no doubt Cam
knew the same about her. Well, what of it? What could such knowledge
possibly matter to two virtual strangers having a cup of coffee
for no other reason than that their fathers were friends? 
The night nurse’s report on Wednesday morning at seven o’clock
revealed that Adeline Koffer’s family had not got their miracle. Their
mother died during the night surrounded by their presence and
their love. Tyne hoped they would consider the end of her suffering
the true miracle, and trust in a merciful God.
In Room 221, old Mrs. Forsyth still clung to life while her exhausted
family popped in and out of the room all day long and all
night long. And in 224, Jeannette Aubert still clutched her rosary and
prayed for the survival of her baby.
When the report had been read, Sister Mary Louise looked at Tyne.
“Mrs. Aubert’s physician has asked Dr. Jenkins to see her today. Will
you make sure he’s not disturbed while he talks to her?”
Tyne could not control her gasp. “Dr. Jenkins? The psychiatrist?
But why, Sister?”

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He Rode Tall

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the way that they were groomed, he guessed all of the stock in
this sale were show horses or show-horse prospects.
Rounding the corner of one aisle and starting up another to
continue his inspection, Joel saw a growing crowd of people forming
outside of the old mare’s stall. Joel was feeling pretty good
about this turn of events. With that kind of interest, he might
even get the three- or four-thousand dollars that Harry predicted
she would be able to attract. That was a lot of money for an old
mare, but darn, she was a real good looker. Joel wandered past the
group of admirers but wasn’t able to pick up on any of the
conversation.
Once the sale got started, time seemed to fly by. After reading
the rules and regulations of the sale, the auctioneer, a gravelly
voiced man in a big Stetson, rattled the numbers off. After a while
a pattern started to emerge. The auctioneer would call for a while
and then a man beside him in the auction booth would stop the
sale and take a few moments to go on about the breeding and performance
record of the horse in the sale ring. The auction would
then continue for maybe another minute or two, depending on
how the bidding was going, before the auctioneer would call out,
“Sold!” As the sold horse exited from one end of the ring another
horse would be led in from the other end and the process would
start all over again. But while the system remained consistent,
the prices didn’t. Joel could see that most of the horses were
going in the five- to ten-thousand-dollar range with the odd one
going over ten. This was encouraging to see, but these were
prized, well-bred show horses or talented show prospects of superior
breeding, and none of them were twenty-one-year-old mares.
In fact, other than the twenty-one-year-old mare, the next oldest
horse in the sale was twelve.
Even at the fast clip of the auctioneer and the efficiency of the
helpers moving the horses in and out, it was the end of the afternoon
when the crowd of 500 or so horse enthusiasts were reminded
that, despite what the catalogue said, there really was one more
horse. Number fifty-one, the old blonde mare was led in.

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Water in the Wilderness

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A beam of moonlight reached through the open drapes at the window, giving a gentle glow to the room. Tyne felt no closer to sleep than she had when they had come to bed two hours earlier.
“Can’t sleep, hon?” Morley put his arm over her and brushed her tousled hair with his lips.
“No, and I suspect you can’t, either.” Tyne laid her cheek against his stubbled one. “Morley, what’s going to happen to them?”
He sighed deeply. “I don’t know, hon. I wish I did.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” She knew that, if anyone could give her an answer, her husband could.
Morley stirred and propped himself on one elbow to look down at her. In the faint light, she could see his eyes, now wide open. “Are you thinking we should try to keep them here?”
She took a deep breath. “It has crossed my mind. But even if we get Corky’s permission, it would be a big step, wouldn’t it?”
Morley lay down again, and for several moments looked up at the shadowed ceiling without speaking. Finally, he whispered, “A huge step, Tyne. It would be a huge step.”
Suddenly, she giggled. “I once told you I wanted to live on a farm with the man I love, and raise vegetables and lots of children. This would be a good start.”
“But not quite as soon as you thought.” There was laughter in Morley’s voice now. But after a minute, he said seriously, “Anyway, it all depends on Corky, doesn’t it?”
And partly on Ruby, Tyne thought. She had not told Morley what Ruby had said in Matron’s office, and she had no intention of telling him. But she knew in her heart that, if they applied for custody of the children, the biggest opposition would not come from their father, but from their Aunt Ruby. Because Ruby could not abide ‘Bible thumpers’.

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Still Waters

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Sister had warned the staff this morning to be careful what they
said in the hearing of their patients, especially this couple. Yesterday,
as his wife was being admitted, Guy Aubert had overheard the nurses
at the desk.
“The patient going into 224 is a threatened abortion,” one of them
said.
“This is not an abortion,” Guy Aubert yelled, his French accent
becoming more pronounced with the level of his outrage. “We do
not do such a thing as this. We are Catholic, and the church does not
allow …”
It had taken Sister several minutes to calm the young man down,
and explain what she meant by the medical term. Tyne cautioned
herself not to refer to her patient’s condition as anything but a
threatened miscarriage. Her heart ached for the couple and the obvious
distress they felt at the possible loss of this first baby they wanted
so much.
Shortly before three o’clock, Tyne made the final rounds of her patients
to assure herself that all was in order for the oncoming evening
shift. The young boy with the ruptured appendix seemed to be doing
nicely. His anxious parents had not left his bedside. The middle-aged
man, who had been admitted two days earlier with a heart attack,
slept peacefully. There was nothing more to do at the moment for
the bowel surgery in 216. His wife sat quietly by his bedside, and
smiled at Tyne as she bid them good night.
Jeannette Aubert was alone in her room, still lying on her back,
still clutching her rosary. Tyne could see where the tears had dried
on her cheeks.
She covered her patient’s hands with her own, and said gently,
“Shall I give you a back rub, Jeannette? You’ve been lying in this position
for most of the day. We don’t want you to get a bed sore.”
Tyne knew that, unlike her elderly patients, young healthy skin did
not develop pressure sores so readily, but a back rub would afford
her the chance to talk to the young woman alone. It might also help
Jeannette relax, and take her mind off the baby for a few minutes.

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He Rode Tall

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The land, the buildings, all of that old
equipment, and the horses. Heck, you wouldn’t even have to
unpack. I’ll write you the check right now and you can cash it at the
bank on the way through town as you head back to the city.”
Joel could have very easily taken the money. Heaven knows he
could use it. He really didn’t have anything that was stopping him
from accepting the offer. And 60,000 dollars could go a long ways
in Costa Rica, or wherever he ended up. Maybe he could even buy
a nice little bar on a sandy beach to keep himself occupied. He
could see himself passing out cool cervezas and renting out
sea-doos to tourists. Or maybe just passing out. That sure would
have been his preferred behavior in the past. But there were a few
things bothering him about the offer. First of all, he just didn’t like
Buck Smith. Secondly, from what Smith had to say, there probably
wouldn’t be a place for Harry in the Buck Smith Ranch Corporation.
Thirdly, the offer just came too easy, and if Joel was any judge
of character, the offer was probably significantly below market
value. Joel was feeling confused. He knew that life was all about
the choices we make, and right now, it seemed as if he was faced
with a big choice. He could either sell the Circle H to Buck Smith
for 60,000 dollars or he could be a stubborn son-of-a-gun and try to
make a go of it in this god-forsaken country.
The consequences were obvious. On the one hand, he could
have the bar on the beach in Costa Rica with the scantily dressed
babes, and on the other hand, he could have a grizzled-up old
ranch-hand and a bunch of horses. What the hell was he thinking?
One thing he knew for sure—right now, standing in the
sparse and desolate yard of the rundown Circle H, there was a
battle going on inside of him between his head and his heart. And
he didn’t know which was winning.
“Let me think it over,” Joel said.
“Think it over. Hell, man. What is there to think over? This is a
good offer and there just aren’t any other buyers for a small
standalone place like this. Besides that, your dad and I had it all
arranged.”

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Water in the Wilderness

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Tyne did not feel like giving her a civil answer. She did not feel like answering at all. But she glanced at Miss Larson, and saw both compassion and encouragement in her eyes. So she spoke as kindly as she could. “No, we’re going to wait until I get home. And, if it makes you feel better, my mother is with the children while I’m at work.”
Ruby did not reply. She took the coffee mug and drank thirstily, then put it down and stood up. “I gotta get outta here, I need a smoke.” At the door she paused. “I’ll speak to my husband and we’ll make other arrangements for the kids,” she said haughtily, then left the room without asking again to see her sister.
It’s just as well, Tyne thought, because she knew that Lydia’s body had been removed to the funeral home earlier that morning.
Miss Larson looked at her nurse whose eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry, Tyne. That was rough. She had no cause to say what she did.”
Tyne sniffed and lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “Well, she’s upset. I don’t care what she thinks about me, but it sure hurts when people say unkind things about Morley. He’s a good man, Miss Larson. He lives his faith, that’s why people call him a Bible… a ….” She could not finish. Two tears slid down her cheeks, and she brushed them away roughly with her hand.
“This is the tough part of our job, Tyne, having to deal with bereaved relatives. We never really get used to it.”
Tyne nodded and reached into the pocket of her uniform for a tissue. “In the OR I didn’t have to deal with family, no matter what happened. I suppose I was insulated from the real world. I don’t know if I can handle it.”
“You will, Tyne. When you’re called upon to do it, you will. But, as I said, it isn’t easy.”
On the Cresswell farm, Rachael stood beside the fence and watched Morley herd the milk cows out to the lush green pasture. She didn’t know what was wrong with her today; she felt listless and lonely.

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Still Waters

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Carol Ann tossed her head. “I can’t think of anything better.”
Tyne grinned and glanced at her watch. “Hey look, gang, it’s getting
on to dinner time. I’d like to go have a peek at the roster before
we eat. So hurry up and change, then we can get to the cafeteria before
the rush. I’m starved.”
A few minutes later, as they hurried along the corridor, Tyne said,
“Did either of you see the menu board? What’s for dinner?”
“It’s Sunday. Need you ask?”
“Oh no, not beef stroganoff on my first day back?”
Moe poked her in the ribs. “No, sorry to disappoint you, kiddo.
Not beef stroganoff. That’s just their fancy name for it. It’s plain old
beef stew.”
Tyne groaned. The house mother, having overheard their comments,
looked up and scowled as they passed her desk.
As they spilled out the door onto the street, Tyne murmured under
her breath, “Oh, Mom, I sure miss you now.” 
Tyne stood at the nursing station on St. Francis and listened intently
as Sister Mary Louise assigned the graduates and student nurses
their duties for the day. Six of them gathered around the desk, two of
them third-year students. Joan Farr from the September class looked
nervous. She had just attained her third-year status, and probably
did not feel quite ready for the private patients on St. Francis, many
of whom were professional people, two of them doctors.
Tyne remembered Moe’s words as the three roomies ate breakfast
in the dining hall that morning. “It doesn’t matter how much money
they have, Tyne. Just remember that in bed with nothing on but a
skimpy nightshirt, they’re just the same as you and me.”
Tyne repeated the words to herself as she made her way down the
corridor with a tray of medications.

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He Rode Tall

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Joel wasn’t sure what it was, but somehow he had connected
with the peace and tranquility of the land. He was wondering
if there wasn’t some way he could make a go of the Circle
H. Joel knew that he had lost his soul a lot of years ago, but now,
maybe just maybe, he had found his soul in the hills.
“So who is this Smith character?” inquired Joel.
“Big rancher. Moved in about ten years ago and hasn’t stopped
buying since. Must control almost the entire county. Between
what he has already put his hands on and what he has tied up in
first right of refusals he pretty well owns Sweetwater Country.
They say he runs over 5,000 head.”
Even Joel knew that 5,000 head was a lot of anything let alone
cows. Anyone who has enough land to feed that many cattle
would be just about as close to a king as you could get in this dry
country.
By now, Harry had run out of chores to do and things to tinker
with so he slowly turned to face Joel. It was then that Joel clearly
saw the withered, weather-stained face of the man he was speaking
with. Joel couldn’t help but think that Harry’s head was too
big for the size of his body. His tiny frame carried maybe 140
pounds, none of it fat. With a thirty-inch waist, this ranch hand
of fifty or sixty, or was it seventy, years appeared to be in excellent
condition. His face featured a big nose, ears the size of tea saucers,
and an abundance of thick black hair. And his hands. His
hands were those of a worker and his big head seemed out of proportion
to the size of his lithe body.
“Lives over there,” offered Harry.
“Over where?” asked Joel, almost forgetting who it was that
they were talking about.
“The Buck Smith Ranch Corporation Headquarters are just
over those hills. Maybe a mile across.”
“Then we are neighbours.”
“Might say that. A mile across the hills but must be ten miles
around on the roads. Don’t see much of them over here. Just
their cows all over the hills.”

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