Ford and I remounted and cantered after Evan, who had accomplished getting the Jack to the corral.
"Open the gate," he hollered, looking as though it was taking considerable effort to hold on to the rope.
I scrambled down and ran over, opening the gate to the corral, and Evan went on in, leading the
burro. Or more accurately, dragging the burro.
Ford swung the gate back shut again, and held it, while Evan sat there still, for a few moments, letting
the burro settle down.
"Coming out?" Ford called to him.
"I was thinkin'-maybe we had oughta get him into the cattle chute," Evan called back. "Ivy's gonna try
to get a blood sample, right?"
"Yes!" I hollered back.
"How long till she gets here?"
"Not long now. She said an hour, and that was quite awhile ago."
"Okay," Evan said, and then waved at Ford and I. "Come on, let's try to get him in."
And, so we did try. All we got accomplished was for Ford to nearly get kicked by a pair of vicious hind legs, and for a considerable
amount of swearing to take place. But, no burro in the cattle chute.
We paused, out of breath, and Evan let the end of the rope he'd had ahold of, drop to the ground. The burro took the
opportunity to go to the far side of the corral, away from us, dragging the rope behind him. He stationed himself there, and
stared reproachfully at the three of us.
"Now we've scared him," I said, with regret. "He won't trust me anymore."
"We didn't have much choice in it," Evan said. "If you want him looked over, he needs to be where he can be contained."
"I know," I said, still feeling badly.
"Just leave him be for a bit," Evan said. "Maybe he'll settle down before she gets here."
He led his horse out of the corral, and Ford and I followed, latching the gate behind us.
I followed along after Evan. "What did the sheriff say?" I asked him.
"They've made a few more arrests. Narrowed down who's left. They're trying to come to the bottom of who
did what, like shooting our cattle."
"Seth was involved, though?" I asked him, and Evan gave me a side-long look.
"Yeah. He was."
"Other local people, too?" I asked then. "Besides Seth, and Kenny, and Kristin's stepfather?"
"A few. But mostly outsiders."
"It just seems so wrong," I said. "I mean, it's wrong for everybody to do it, but it's worse when it's somebody that's from here. Like Kenny."
Evan didn't say anything to that, to agree or disagree, but he looked serious and nodded his head.
I was walking to the house, to go in and wash my hands with soap. They were really hurting, from the rope burns. But, nearly
to the house, and Ivy arrived. So I retraced my steps to go back over and greet her.
"Get him into the corral?" she asked, sounding efficient.
"Yeah. We got him in. But we couldn't get him into the chute."
"We'll figure it out. Are the guys all out working, away from the house?"
"No. The sheriff left just a bit ago. I think they're still inside," I told her.
"I thought we'd go over what the results of the tests were."
"Oh, okay," I said. "Come inside."
We went up the front steps and inside. Voices from the kitchen area, and I motioned to Ivy.
"Sounds like they're in here," I said.
Ivy was greeted by everyone in the kitchen, where they were all gathered around the table. Talking, I presumed,
about what the sheriff had had to say.
Crane and Brian stood up when she came into the room, and Adam turned from where he was pouring a cup of coffee.
Everyone said hello, and Ivy was invited to sit down.
"You've got news for us, I take it?" Adam asked.
"I do."
"Well, have a seat," Brian told her. "We might as well hear it sitting down."
I could tell, even though he was trying to make a small joke, that he was tense about hearing whatever it was.
"Lemonade or some tea?" Hannah was asking.
"Tea, please," Lily said, and sat down in a vacant chair.
Crane poured a glass of iced tea, and set it in front of her.
"Thanks," Ivy said. She sent a glance round the table at the anxious faces.
"My news isn't the best," she began. "It's conjunctivitis. Connected to IBR."
"Oh, no," Hannah said, in a breathy sort of way.
"Damn," Brian muttered.
Everyone else was silent. We all knew that IBR was abbreviated for Infectious Bovine Rhinotrachetitis. Well, everyone but Clare, anyway.
And we all knew it was serious.
Evan got up, sort of suddenly, and went out the back door without saying anything more.
Ivy was talking about rounds of antibiotics, and sorting to find the carrier cattle, and all of that.
I felt suddenly depressed. And still, not knowing what was coming with the burro.
They all started discussing this and that, moving the cattle that had been separated, back into the corral, to
start the antibiotics and treatment.
Adam, who'd been quiet up until now, said, "Let's have lunch before we start on with it. It'll be a long rest of the day."
And so, everyone started, getting plates set around the table, and sandwich fixings out.
"Harlie," Hannah said quietly, in the midst of the hubbub, "Go out and see if you can find Evan and Guthrie, and tell
them we're having lunch."
"Okay," I said, and went outside. It wasn't hard. One look towards the corral, and there was Evan, Guthrie alongside of him,
where he had the burro nearly into the cattle chute.
I ran over, pulling myself up onto the second panel of the corral fence. "How did you do it?" I asked.
Guthrie was hooking a bucket filled with something just inside the chute, so that the burro could eat from it.
"Horse treats," Evan said, coiling up the rope that had been on the burro.
I was actually very suitably impressed. "That's amazing," I said.
"He's calmed down. It wasn't that difficult," Evan said.
"Hannah says come and eat lunch. Then they're gonna start on the antibiotics for the cattle."
"I don't have much of an appetite," Evan said, with a sigh.
"I'll tell you what you tell me," I said stoutly. "You have to eat, even when you don't feel like it."
"I don't have diabetes," Evan said shortly, and just as I was feeling the prick of his words, he met my eyes and said,
"Sorry, shortcake. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
I shrugged it off. "It's okay."
"Come on, Ev," Guthrie said, climbing over the fence, and dropping to the other side.
"I'll be in in a minute," Evan said, looking out towards the fields as though deep in thought.
Guthrie looked to me, and then gave a shrug, and ambled towards the house to his own lunch.
I stayed where I was, perched on the corral, wondering what had Evan so deep in thought.
Before he could answer, there was a whistle from the back steps. I looked over to see Adam standing there,
motioning to us to come inside.
"Adam says come in," I said.
"You go on," Evan said, still sounding as though he was far off in thought.
I gave in, and stepped to the ground, going towards the back door.
When I'd reached Adam, he was looking out towards where Evan still stood.
"Evan coming?" he asked me.
I paused, looking at Adam, a bit worried. "I don't know. He looks like he's a million miles away in thought about something. He
says he'll be in in a minute."
After a moment's silence, Adam put a hand at the back of my neck. "Go on and eat your lunch. We're gonna need you
this afternoon."
I went inside, pausing only to see Adam, as he started off purposefully towards the corral, to talk to Evan.
7
I don't know just what Adam said to Evan after that. I just know that when Adam came back inside and sat down in his chair at the
table, Evan was with him.
I ate my sandwich, and munched on the carrots and radishes that were on a platter. I'd washed my hands before I'd sat down,
but they were raw and sore. I ate my sandwich mostly with my left hand, since it hurt the least.
As everyone was finishing their meal, and began to make their way outside again, I took a moment to run upstairs, and smear
first aid ointment over my palms, and then stuck some bandaids on the worst spots.
The Jack had apparently decided to be compliant with what needed to be done. Ivy took blood samples, and he hardly raised
his head, still rooting in the bucket for more treats. After that, she looked him over, rubbing his head, and talking to him
in a quiet way.
"He is a beauty," Ivy said, nearly to herself it seemed.
At any other time, I would have proudly proclaimed to Brian, 'See? Ivy's a vet, and she thinks he's beautiful."
But, this wasn't any other time. We had problems. Big ones. And it wasn't in me to gloat over something that seemed
so trivial and childish.
When the Jack had been examined, we opened the corral gate and let him back out into the pastures.
I went to saddle Charley, and by the time I returned, there were brothers scattered, and Hannah as well, preparing to herd
the separated cattle back to the corral again.
I moved as if to help with that, when Adam rode up alongside of me. I pulled Charley to a stop.
"See if you can persuade the burro to move on. I don't want him hanging around too close right now, until we
get everything done."
There was so much to say. Aw, but I said none of it.
I galloped off to do as he said. The Jack had paused at the edge of the grazing cattle. The cattle who were mixed in with
the borrowed bull. The burro seemed perfectly content, and when I made some shooing motions at him, he just gave me
the stare only a burro who has just been given a bucket of treats could give. He had no qualms about me now.
So I rode Charley up closer to him, actually leaning down to give him a push. "Go," I ordered.
He lowered his head, only to nip a mouthful of grass, and then chewed, watching me.
"You're gonna get me into more trouble," I told him. "Go!"
I succeeded only in persuading him to move a bit further. But, at least he was out of sight, and grazing in a different area.
I rode back, and by now the twelve or so head of cattle were in the corral. Ivy, Crane and Adam were in the corral,
and were doing antibiotic injections. Brian was riding amongst the cattle and bull, and I knew he was searching for any
others who might appear to be sick.
Evan was on the tractor, pulling the big pasture mower behind, and was mowing the grass down thru the same pasture.
Hannah was gone, probably back in the house. And Ford and Guthrie were joining the group in the corral.
I rode up alongside of Brian. "What do you want me to do?" I asked him.
"You know where the notebook is? The one with the tag numbers, and all that?" he asked.
"Yes. I know. I put it back on the desk after the other day."
"Well, get it and bring it back out here, alright?"
"Yes," I said, and galloped back to the house. I was as quick as I could be, to locate the notebook, and then raced back
down the front stairs, and hopped onto Charley's back again.
When I was back with Brian, I opened the notebook, turning it to the first blank page, and unclipping the attached pen.
Brian was quiet for a few minutes, just riding amongst the cattle. Every once in awhile, when Evan got too close with the
mower, it would startle the cows a bit and they would mill around.
"Why's he doing that now?" I asked, after Evan had made another pass thru the grass.
"I think he's trying to find a fix it," Brian said.
I wasn't sure just what he meant, but I didn't ask anymore. Brian got down from his horse, and I did, too, and
we began walking thru the herd.
"What are we looking for?" I asked him. "To see if any of these are sick?"
"I've already done that," he said. "I think we're okay with this group. So far."
He motioned toward my notebook, as he kept walking. "Write down 37," he told me. "And 44."
I obediently wrote down the two numbers, as he added, "Put the date on there."
When I'd added today's date, I'd figured out that he was looking for obviously bred heifers.
At one point, I resituated the pen in my hand, so that it wasn't rubbing the palm, and Brian noticed. I hadn't realized
he was even looking at me, until he said, "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," I said quickly.
"Somethin' wrong with your hand?" he asked then.
I couldn't lie. But, it obviously was not the right moment to tell him I had rope burns on my palms.
"They're just sore, from this morning," I said vaguely, and he didn't say anymore.
It was while we were still doing that, walking, and writing numbers, that I saw the Jack. He'd come
right back from the incline where I'd shooed him to, and was back nearby again, mixed in with the cattle.
At first I wasn't going to say anything. And then, I realized that was dumb. Brian had eyes. He would see
for himself.
I sighed, and held out the notebook to him.
"What, are you quittin' on me?" he asked.
"No." I gestured towards the Jack, who was walking our direction. "I just need to shoo him away again. Adam
said he didn't want him around until we were done."
Brian took the notebook from me, and nodded, as I mounted Charley and rode up to the burro again.
This time I took a more firm tactic. I ran Charley alongside of him, though not in a mean way, or a threatening way.
"Go," I commanded. "Come back later!"
Every time the burro would lope for a bit, and I would think I'd been successful, I would begin to ride off, and
he would follow me. By the third time, I was frustrated. I heard Brian calling to me, able to hear, since Evan had
disappeared over a hill with the mower. I looked towards Brian, and he was motioning at me to come back.
I cantered back over to him, and slid off of Charley's back, half expecting Brian to use the opportunity to
scold me. All about the obvious and valid reasons why I should never have encouraged the burro to
trust me, and get used to being around humans.
But, he didn't. All he said was, "It seems as though he's set on stayin' where he is. Leave it until later."
7
It was, as Adam had predicted, a long and strenuous afternoon. It was nearly the supper hour when the cattle had
all been treated. I felt as though I'd been wrung thru a wringer of some sort. Like those old hand-fed washing machines.
Everybody felt that way, I knew.
As we all paused, in the front yard, my brothers were inviting Ivy to stay for supper.
"Thanks," she said. "But, I need to get home to check on Blue. He hasn't been feeling well."
After she'd gotten into her truck, saying that she would be back the next day again to check over the cattle, she
drove down the driveway.
Clare had been busy in our absence from the house. She had made homemade pizza, with lots of cheese and pieces of
bacon on the top. And she'd set it all up in the living room, on the coffee table and card tables, along with paper plates
and cans of cold beer and Coke.
"I thought it would be relaxing to eat in here," she said. "Since everybody will want to shower and we'll just stagger the
meal this way."
Adam gave Clare an affectionate smile, and Brian gave her a quick kiss.
"Looks great," he said, sounding weary.
"Shall we flip a coin for the shower?" Guthrie asked, addressing everybody in the group.
"No. You go on first, Guth," Adam told him.
Hannah, who, by the looks of her wet hair, had already had a shower, said, "Somebody can use the shower in
our bedroom."
So then, one by one, McFaddens went to take a quick shower. That was, until the hot water ran out, and the
remainder decided to wait it out.
Thus, some were in sweats and clean t shirts, and some still wore the jeans and work shirts of the day. Though everyone had
taken their boots off. There was quite a stack by the front door.
Nancy arrived, off from her shift at the farm supply store. She said it had been a tiresome day in town, as well.
Talk of the arrests was rampant, and causing sides to be taken. Besides which, the air conditioner at the store had
gone on the fritz.
"Can I borrow a pair of shorts?" she asked me. Since she is taller, but we're about the same size otherwise, I figured
one of my pairs would fit her.
When she reappeared downstairs again, and helped herself to a piece of the pizza, she said, "Sure feels good to
get cool."
I ate some pizza, and drank a Coke, and then, while everybody was sitting about, eating and talking, though more
somberly than usual, I went upstairs. I took a quick shower, in mostly cold water, and didn't properly shampoo my hair.
I was still treating my hands with care. The bandaids I'd put on earlier had not stayed on long.
After soaping them in my shower, I dried them really well with a towel, patting not rubbing. Then I put on more
antibiotic crème. I wished I could wrap them in gauze and tape, but that would draw too many questions.
And the bandaids would be sure to catch someone's eye this time around. So I just left them that way, with the
first aid stuff on them, open to the air, and went back downstairs. It didn't help that the inside of my thighs were chafed from riding
all afternoon in shorts.
I gathered my hair back and fastened it into a ponytail. It hurt my palms to hold the hairbrush at that point.
Downstairs, I helped myself to another slice of pizza, and sat down cross-legged on the floor, in front of the couch,
beside Guthrie.
"What's for dessert?" Ford was asking, and Clare laughed. "I don't think there's any of Harlie's cookies left. But we
have a cake. I didn't have time to frost it yet."
"Who needs frosting?" Ford said, and went off to the kitchen in search of the cake.
From where he sat just behind me, Brian leaned forward, and tapped my shoulder. "Hand me a couple of
paper towels, will you, peach?" he said to me. "Clare's makin' a mess over here."
"Me?" Clare said, pretending to be insulted. "I don't believe it's me making the mess."
I was laughing, glad that Brian was trying to lighten the mood, since everybody was down, and concerned about
what the sickness amongst our cattle would mean for us. I reached for a couple of paper towels, pulling them off the roll, and
then twisting to hand them to him.
Brian took them, eyeing the greasy spot I'd made on them, from the ointment smeared on my hands.
"Dang, you need a paper towel yourself," he chided me. "Your hands are all greasy from the pizza." He moved
to reach for my hand, jokingly, and caught me before I could snatch it back.
A glance at my palm, and then he raised his eyes to look at me. I tried to pull it away without jerking, and
after a couple of moments he let loose.
I gave him a somewhat tremulous look, and he only raised an eyebrow, and then said nothing, going on to eat his
pizza.
Afterwards, I was helping Clare gather up the plates, and take the empty cans to the kitchen trash. Nancy was preparing
to head for home, telling everyone goodbye, and Evan walked her outside.
Hannah and Adam both went upstairs together, Adam carrying a sleeping Isaac. Crane and Ford disappeared, and Guthrie
flopped onto the couch, preparing to watch a western on television.
In the kitchen, Clare and I made a quick tidy-up. She gave me a side hug. "Thanks," she said. And then, to Brian, who
was pouring a glass of iced tea, she said, "Coming up to bed?"
"Yeah. I'm beat. I'll be up in a minute," he told her.
"Okay. Night, Harlie."
"Goodnight," I said. I got out my supplies, and did my injection, and then began tidying up and putting things away again.
Brian, meanwhile, went to the cupboard and got down the first aid kit, going to sit at the kitchen table.
I knew full well what he was doing, so when I finished putting things away, and looked at him, I wasn't surprised
when he said, without any fanfare, "Sit down," nodding towards the chair next to his.
I went to sit next to him, turning my knees so that we were facing one another. He took a tissue and began wiping
gently at my palms, taking off what was left of the first aid ointment.
"Go wash now," he ordered.
I sighed, and got up, going to the sink, where I washed my hands again.
"Get a clean towel out," he said then, and I took a clean dish towel from the drawer, and began patting at my
palms.
When I sat back down, facing him again, he took the towel from me, and then took one of my hands, patting it
himself with the towel, and giving it a once-over.
Then he held out his hand for my other one, and took it, drying it and inspecting it as well.
"You surely did a number on 'em," he said. "What happened?"
"I was trying to get the Jack into the corral."
"By yourself?" he said, lifting his eyes to me.
I didn't answer, only giving him a guilty sort of look.
He pulled out peroxide from the container, and prepared to douse my hands with it, both at the same time, and it
dripped onto the towel draped over my lap.
"Ow," I protested.
Brian went on, seemingly without any sympathy for the way the peroxide burned.
He waited a moment or so, and then began to pat my palms again with the towel.
"Do I talk to hear my own voice?" he asked me then.
Ah. One of those questions that were asked, when you'd done, or not done in this case, something you'd been
instructed to do.
"Do I?" he prompted, when I was silent.
"No, Bri."
"Are you sure? Because I think I very definitely told you to get some help, gettin' the burro in. Did I not?"
"Yes."
He gave me another long look, and then began reapplying first aid ointment. I sucked my breath in at one point. I couldn't
stop it. It hurt, the way that he was pressing. Though he wasn't being overly rough or anything like that.
After he'd done that part of it, he took out gauze, and then wrapped it around my whole hand, first one, and then
the other, securing it with first aid tape.
"We'll take a look in the morning," he said then. "Make sure they don't look infected. Redo the antibiotic stuff, and
put on fresh gauze. We might have Clare take a look at them, too."
"Okay," I agreed. I lifted my wrapped hands, and said, in an attempt to prevent any further scolding, "I look like a mummy, huh?"
Brian met my eyes, not showing any sign that he was amused.
"Why didn't you just let go of the rope?" he asked me.
I hesitated, and then said, in honesty, "It didn't occur to me to let go. It felt natural to hang on."
He shook his head a little, as if he was irritated.
"Besides," I went on, "I knew we had to get him checked out-and Ivy was on her way."
Still, he said nothing. Just regarded me with a raised eyebrow sort of look.
"I couldn't find the boys," I admitted, in defeat. Brian would have made a great interrogator, I thought.
"Uh huh," he said in reply. An answer which really wasn't an answer at all, I thought.
I moved, as if to get up from my chair. "Thanks for patching me up," I said lightly. "I better get to bed."
I didn't stand on up, though, because Brian's other knee was blocking my path, and he made no effort to move it.
I settled back into my chair, looking at him tremulously.
"Come on, Bri," I cajoled. "You're making it big. It's not a big thing-"
"Oh?" he said. "It's not, huh?"
I realized my mistake. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded," I said hastily.
After another long few moments, of him looking at me, all stern-like, he moved his knee, just slightly.
"Stand up, then," he said.
And then, I hesitated. There was a look about him. I figured I was about to get my butt swatted, at the very least. Though I didn't sense any real anger on his part.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked, and now I thought he looked a bit amused.
"Wondering how fast I should move," I answered.
Now, I knew he was amused. The corners of his mouth turned up a bit.
"How lucky do you feel?" he asked.
"Not so lucky," I admitted.
Brian leaned closer, so his face was only inches from my own. "Next time, let go of the rope."
He pulled me to my feet, careful of my bandaged hands, and kissed the top of my head.
That night, I think I was asleep, nearly as soon as I laid down.
7