Tag: farming

Water in the Wilderness

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excerpt

“They’re missing, Tyne. They’ve run away. Ruby and Bill thought they might be here.”
She fell into the chair by the desk. “Dear Mother of God, no,” she blurted. “Where … how long?”
“They were gone this morning when the family got up. I don’t know what time that was, but the kids must have left in the dark. At least there’s one piece of good news … the eldest boy, Ronald, is probably with them.”
Tyne’s relief was short-lived when she realized the boy was probably not yet twelve years old. And the weather … oh, dear God in heaven, no. Even strong, adult men had been known to lose their way from barn to house in a blizzard.
“Morley, the weather … how bad is it?” She choked on a sob. “It looks like a blizzard from here.”
“Tyne… honey, try not to upset yourself. I know it looks bad, but they’re probably with a neighbor, or someone who saw them and took them in. Ronald’s old enough to know to go for help when the weather turned bad.”
“I know, Morley.” She drew in a calming breath. “Please, take care of yourself. I wish I could be there to help you at the barn, and make your dinner.”
“I’ll be fine. And listen, Tyne, I don’t want you to leave the hospital. Please tell me you’ll stay there. There must be somewhere you can sleep.”
Tyne stifled a sob. She didn’t want Morley to know how scared she felt – scared for the children and scared for him alone on the farm with animals to look after. She gave herself a mental shake and set her mind to gain control of her emotions.
“Tyne, the first thing I’d like you to do is call your parents and Aunt Millie to tell them about the kids. Ask them to alert people in their area. Oh wait, is there any possibility they could have gone to your mom’s? You’ve taken them there a few times. Maybe Rachael remembered the way.”
“No, I don’t think so. If they had gone there, Mom would have called either you or me.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” He sounded deflated.

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Still Waters

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continuing negative press.”
Tyne smiled knowingly as she sat down. “Then I take it Dad hasn’t
changed his mind about a hospital in Emblem.”
“Not one iota. If anything, he’s more adamant than ever.”
“You … you said you saw Morley at a society meeting. Is he taking
an active part then?”
Millie chuckled. “Very active. He’s been elected chairman of the
promotions committee so he’s responsible for making us all get out
and put the idea across to the public.”
“Oh my ….”
“I shouldn’t say this but I’m sure that’s one of the reasons your dad
is digging in his heels about it.”
Tyne’s eyes widened. “Because of Morley?”
Millie shrugged. “He’s still afraid the two of you will get back together.
So, on that principle, he can’t abide Morley Cresswell. And
that is Jeff Milligan’s loss,” she added with conviction.
And mine, Tyne thought. If things had been different, Morley and
I would still be together, probably planning our wedding. Now wait,
Tyne, were you willing to give up your faith for him? Were you willing
to make sacrifices for him?
No, she thought, I’m afraid I was not. So it wasn’t all Dad’s fault
after all.
Millie put her cup on the coffee table and looked into her niece’s
face. “I hate to see you unhappy, darling.”
“But I’m not unhappy, Aunt Millie.”
“No? Well, I’m glad. I should probably have said that I hate to see
you still grieving over Morley. It seems a hard thing for you now, but
I’d like you to consider what Joseph told his brothers years after they
sold him into slavery in Egypt – ‘God meant it unto good.’ The Lord
has a plan for you too, Tyne honey. Just trust. And I’ll never stop
praying for you.”
With sobs suddenly choking her, Tyne scrambled to her feet and
fell into Aunt Millie’s comforting embrace.

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He Rode Tall

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“I would like to see Mr. McQuaid, the branch manager,”
said Joel.
“I’m sorry Mr. Hooper, but Mr. McQuaid is no longer with this
branch. He has transferred to our Denver offices. I am the new
branch manager, can I help you with something?” said the attractive,
middle-aged woman who Joel, conditioned in his paradigm
of chauvinism, had mistaken as a receptionist.
“Well ma’am, I sure hope so.” Joel hoped he would have a clean
slate with this manager, and not have to deal with the negative
impression he had made on his earlier visit. Joel continued, “You
see, my daddy used to bank here, and I am running short of cash
and was hoping that maybe you could help me out with a loan.”
“Why don’t you come into my office, Mr. Hooper, and let’s see
what we can do for you.”
Even if he didn’t get any money, Joel was certainly appreciating
the treatment he was receiving on this visit. The last time he was
here after his dad died, he had waited over ninety minutes to see
Mr. McQuaid, who, as the secretary explained, “was a very busy
man.” Finally, when he did get to sit down with him, Mr.
McQuaid told him that an old, rundown ranch yard and a
half-section of land really had no market value. According to Mr.
McQuaid, the Circle H could never be a functioning cattle operation
without access to at least several additional sections of
pastureland, and his home ranch was essentially worthless. Furthermore,
Mr. McQuaid also advised him that horses were worth
a dime a dozen. Joel had tried to explain the breeding and value of
his livestock to the young, city-raised banker, but it all fell on
deaf ears and he was quickly dismissed.
Finding himself on the street outside the bank within five minutes
of being ushered into the branch manager’s office, Joel had
retreated back to the ranch and made up his mind to cut expenses
wherever possible.
But now, he had run out of ways to cut costs any further. Joel
needed cash not just to pay off some of the bills …

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Water in the Wilderness

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Rachael’s voice rose, and in spite of an inner resolve to appear brave, she began to tremble.
Ronald stood up. “I’ll take you part way until I know you’re safe. An’ after I leave you, if you see someone you know, ask them for a ride to my folks’ place.” Going to Bobby he lifted him from the chair onto his feet. “Okay, Bob old man, get on my back again.”
Rachael knew she had no choice but to follow them. Once they had made it around the house and back onto the street, she hurried to catch up. “I’m scared, Ronnie, I don’t want to go back. Uncle Bill will beat me.”
She saw her cousin grit his teeth. “No, he won’t. You tell them you just wanted to see your dad because it’s Christmas. He wouldn’t dare beat you for that; my mom won’t let him.”
Rachael wanted to believe him, but she was not so sure. She remembered what her uncle would have done to her that other time if Ronnie hadn’t been there to protect her and take the beating for her. Then, too, there was Lyssa.
They walked on in silence. Rachael had felt warmer after being in the shelter of the shed, but now her face began to sting again from the biting wind. She buried it in the sweater still wrapped around her doll. “Oh, Shirley,” she murmured, “I can’t take you back where Lyssa can hurt you again.”
When they reached the main street of town, Ronald stopped and lowered Bobby to the ground. “Okay, I’ve gotta go before someone sees me. But you keep goin.’ It’s not far now; you know the way. And, like I said, if you see someone, ask for a ride.”
Rachael didn’t answer. He looked at her keenly. “Look, kid, promise me you’ll go back. You can’t go to the farm, it’s too far. My mom’ll take care of you. Now, promise me, Rachael.”
She lowered her eyes and gazed at her snow-covered boots, realizing that her feet were numb with cold. What choice did she have, anyway?
“Promise me.”
Rachael looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “I promise. But where will you go, Ronnie?”

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He Rode Tall

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Sure, he had been gone for many years and there was no doubt
that the Circle H held some harsh memories for him. At the
same time, there was no doubt about it: for him, Joel Hooper, the
Circle H was home. And if there was any doubt in his mind, it
seemed as if nature was reassuring him that he was home with a
magnificent display of a spectacular sunset awash in all kinds of
tones of baby blue and soft pastel pinks. This truly was the legendary
land of the living skies. Alive with all kinds of colors. The
kinds of colors that were capable of temporarily extinguishing
even the gravest worries from one’s mind.
Two days after his trip into Willow Springs for the mail, he was
back up in the hills, sitting on the big buckskin gelding surveying
what must be close to fifty head of Smith’s cattle helping themselves
to his grass. This time he could see where the fence was
down. The cattle had torn the fence down to get at the richer
grass in his pasture. Poor creatures, Joel thought. They must be
half-starved with the slim pickings they have in their own pasture.
With all of the land that Smith has, he must have some
better pasture to move these cattle to. What was he waiting for?
For their ribs to show? Heck, some of them were at that stage
already.
Joel would be the first to admit that he did not know much
about cows, but he did know enough to realize that this was a sad
and sorry lot of cattle.
Realizing that this was going to be more of a major production
than his earlier experience that involved only three heifers, Joel
rode the buckskin back to the ranch and solicited the help of
Harry and Tanya. Harry headed up to the pasture in the old
truck, which he had stocked with a few fence posts, a bale of
barbed wire, and all of the fencing equipment, including a wire
stretcher and post-hole auger. Tanya was just about to finish
working with her last horse of the day, a little bay mare, so she
rode her up to the hills alongside Joel on the buckskin. On the
way to the fence, Joel and Tanya started to round up the intruders,
and in the distance, Harry was busily repairing the fence.

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Water in the Wilderness

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“I’m cold, and I’m hungry. I don’t want to go no more. Rachael, I can’t walk no more.” Pulling his hand from hers, he fell to the ground and sat in a shivering little heap, the toy truck clasped in both arms.
“Get up, Bobby, come on, we have to keep movin’.” She remembered the lunch bag that Ronnie had taken from her to carry. “We’ve got food; c’mon, get up and we’ll eat a sandwich while we’re walking.”
Ronald handed the bag over, and bent to lift the little boy to his feet. “Here, Bobby, I’ll carry you piggy-back. Get on my shoulders.”
With Bobby on his back, he set off again. Rachael clutched her doll under one arm as she opened the sack of food. She had started to pull the jam sandwiches out when she heard her cousin’s excited yell.
“We’re there, Rachael. See – there’s your neighbor’s house. And look, there’s your place just ahead.” He began to hurry, the weight of the child on his shoulders no hindrance to his renewed energy.
Rachael shoved the sandwich back into the bag, and ran to catch up to them. She strained her eyes in the murky light so that she could better see the house. And there it was – her home. She thought she had never seen anything so beautiful in all her life. Exhilarated, she ran ahead towards the front door. But, as her feet left the sidewalk to turn onto the path, she realized something didn’t feel right. She looked down. Where once a weed covered path led to the house, a concrete walkway clear of snow made an easy approach to the porch – a porch no longer in a state of disrepair, but standing straight with a coat of bright yellow paint. The steps leading up to it were new, and were also made of concrete. Rachael came to a stop, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide and staring.
She became aware that Ronnie had come up beside her. “Wow,” he breathed, as he lowered Bobby to the ground.
The little boy stared at the house, then glanced around. “Where are we? Rachael, this ain’t our house.”
Rachael wavered between excitement and confusion as panic seized her. She turned to Ronald, a question in her eyes. His look did not reassure her.
“D’ya think maybe your dad has moved away from here?”

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Water in the Wilderness

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opened the door to the boys’ bedroom and crept across the floor to Bobby’s bed. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she whispered, “Bobby, get up.”
The boy came to, not with a start as she had feared, but slowly and calmly. Rachael couldn’t see his face well, but she could sense his smile as he yawned and stretched like a kitten.
“Bobby,” she said more urgently, “you have to get up. Hurry now.”
He stopped stretching, and peered at her in the dim light. “Why? I don’t want to get up.”
“Shh, be quiet. You have to get up ’cause we’re leaving.”
She sensed his bewilderment, and noted the beginning of a whine in his voice. “But it’s still night time; it’s still dark. Where we goin’, Rachael?”
She bent close to his ear, and whispered, “We’re going home – to find Daddy.”
Bobby needed no more coaxing. He reached out for his truck where it had been pushed aside during the night, then got out of bed and stood on wobbly legs.
Rachael groped in the darkness for his clothes, then gently but forcibly pushed him out the door into the hallway. In the kitchen she helped him dress, grabbed her doll and the bag of food, and ushered Bobby into the small utility room where she rummaged around until she found both of his high boots from amongst the pile on the floor. Finding her own boots, she pulled them on, then helped Bobby into his coat and shoved a woolen cap on his head. Next, she shrugged into her coat, stuffed the oranges into the pockets, and pulled a toque over her tousled hair.
She glanced around quickly. They were ready to go. Wait, they needed mittens. A few precious moments were spent sorting out two pairs from the mitten pile. Then she opened the door and pushed Bobby out ahead of her. The stinging cold hit Rachael in the face and she saw Bobby cringe and hunch his shoulders. She really should button his jacket up higher but she couldn’t take a chance on him making a sound until they had made it around the house and away from the bedroom windows. Lifting a finger to her lips when he looked up at …

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He Rode Tall

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…couldn’t even see where they had got through the fence. It must
have taken some interesting gymnastics for these four-legged wonders
to maneuver through a three-wire fence without ripping it
down, but, sure enough, here they were. Joel even found himself
wondering if they could have jumped the fence. He had seen the
deer do it. But as Joel compared the anatomy of a cow to that of a
deer, he chuckled at himself in a way that made his horse wonder
what was happening. To the horse, this expression of human
emotion was something new about Joel.
The sorrel gelding waited to see what the rider who sat on him
would decide to do.
Sizing up the situation, Joel realized that if he didn’t get these
three heifers back to where they belong, some of their friends
would want to join them for the party. And judging from how
lean the pickings were on the other side of the fence and the look
of the visiting heifers, Joel didn’t think it would be long before
they would devour the grass in his pasture, which is supposed to
feed his horses. And if the advance party of three were joined by
their friends, it wouldn’t take long before Joel had a serious problem—
two- or three-hundred head of cattle would make mincemeat
out of this pasture.
After contemplating the possibilities, Joel decided that his best
bet would be to open the gate that was about 300 yards down the
fence line and try to push the three heifers back to their own pasture.
He was hoping that the gate was far enough from the herd
so that the herd wouldn’t all rush through the opening into his
pasture. This was going to be very tricky.
Slowly, he moved the sorrel gelding down the fence line to the
gate. The gelding was carefully watching the cows and they certainly
weren’t spooking him. Reaching the gate, Joel undid the
rope, and stepping back, he set the fence wire and poles down to
the side. Sliding back into the saddle, Joel pointed the gelding
back to the three heifers that were grazing, unconcerned with the
approaching rider and horse, or anticipating their eviction.
Gently, cautiously, and slowly, Joel and the sorrel gelding pushed
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Still Waters

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nterior stunned her, and she felt a twinge of guilt. This must be terribly
expensive. Why had Cam chosen such a place? To impress her?
But he appeared at ease in their surroundings, was recognized by
both the maitre’de and the wine steward, and had obviously been
here often. Determined to enjoy the evening and the company of
the man who had lavished attention on her since the moment he
had appeared at the door of her apartment, she settled back in the
delightfully comfortable chair and relaxed.
Until the wine was brought and their order taken, they made small
talk about the hospital, his parents and her family in Emblem. Then
Cam smiled and raised his glass.
“To our meeting again, and to our future meetings. Together we’ll
set the Holy Cross on fire.”
He touched his glass to hers, then put it down and looked at her
soberly. “I want to ask you something – at the risk of having you tell
me to mind my own business.”
“Ask away.” She knew what was coming, but her spirits were too
high tonight to be dashed by the mention of Morley’s name.
“Are you … that is, are you still seeing Morley?”
Tyne raised her glass to her lips, and looked steadily into Cam’s
eyes. “No,” she said.
“Oh.”
He appeared baffled by her brief, straightforward answer as if he
had expected her to simper and evade his question. Well, she was
through simpering over Morley Cresswell. He had dumped her, and
that was that … all in the past … over … done. And why should she
care? She did not need a stubborn, pig-headed, unsympathetic farmer
in her life. Was she not here, in this posh restaurant, being wined
and dined by the handsomest intern the Holy Cross had ever had the
honour of admitting to its program? And was he not looking at her
with the fondest admiration? So she did not need Morley Cresswell.
Goodbye, good riddance.
Tyne put her glass on the table with a thump. And to her horror
and distress she burst into tears.

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Water in the Wilderness

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in the far corner of the bed. Her breath spent, Rachael grew still, and Lyssa released her wrists. Without a word she turned away, walked quietly around the bed and, falling to the floor, gathered the doll into her arms. There she sat and rocked back and forth until both cousins quieted and lay still.
Her grief too deep for tears, Rachael lay down on the cold floor. And with the mutilated doll clasped tightly against her chest, she silently made her plans.
“It’s been a good Christmas, sweetie,” Tyne said as she snuggled against Morley on their way home from his parents’ farm. “Our first one as an old married couple. Imagine that.”
Morley chuckled and took his right hand off the steering wheel to put his arm around her shoulders. “Who’s old? Do you feel old?”
Tyne smiled in the darkness. “Not with you around, husband.”
For several minutes they drove in silence, a deep peace enveloping Tyne as she relived the highlights of the day. Her first Christmas off duty for several years was in itself cause enough for rejoicing. But the best part had been her dad’s hospitality towards Morley. She had first noticed his change in attitude when the family had gathered at the farm for dinner in the fall, and she silently thanked God for bringing it about. Jeff Milligan had sat with Morley and Jeremy in the living room on Maple Avenue today, and willingly joined in the conversation.
In the kitchen, she had been helping her mother and Aunt Millie clean up the remains of breakfast and begin preparations for dinner. She smiled now, remembering how her aunt, dishtowel in hand, had stood by the door to the living room and listened for a few moments to the amiable conversation between the three men. Returning to the counter, Millie had picked up a plate and said to her sister-in-law, “I don’t know what you’re putting in my brother’s tea, Emily, but whatever it is, please keep on doing it.”
Tyne’s mother had stifled a laugh, and said in her usual reserved way, “Now, now, Millie ….”

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