Buy a Cowboy (18 page)

“Let me just get us some iced tea.” His wife deserted him.

Through the open door, they could hear her rummaging through cupboards.

“Are you the rodeo McKnight?”

Baya
stared openly at the man. “I didn't know preachers kept up with stuff like that.”

“In a cattle town this small, what else would hold our interest?”

“Are you Reverend White or Pastor White?” Embarrassment swamped him as the words left his mouth. With an effort, he kept from smacking his forehead at the stupid question.

The old guy chuckled. “Just call me George, or Brother George if that puts you at ease. You have a great family here.”

Baya nodded.

“This is beautiful land. Bonnie's grandfather sold most of the steers last year so they could remodel the kitchen and redo electricity. They had other plans for sprucing the place up but…” he trailed off.

Baya nodded again as he looked over the green pasture. He was unsure how to answer. Did the man know he had gotten the land by default? Would he look at him with the same amused mockery Ed had?

Bonnie shoved the screen door open and placed a tray with glasses, a pitcher, and cookies on the side table. She handed a tall glass to the pastor.

He helped himself to a couple cookies and watched quietly as Bonnie settled on the swing next to Baya. “Where are the kids?” He asked presently.

Quick tears started in Bonnie's eyes and Baya nestled the nervous fingers in his calloused hand. “Their father showed up and took them for a little visit.” Baya tried to curb the snarl in his voice.

The pastor did a double take. “I didn't know. Painful, isn't it?”

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

Baya pulled a bandana out of his back pocket and handed it to her.

The pastor turned to him, “So, you're not their father. I thought, from watching, that you were. You seemed to know just what to do with them.”

Bonnie gripped his hand tighter.

He smiled at her and settled back. “It doesn't feel like I know what I'm doing. She has raised some amazing children.”

“How long have you two been married?”

“Two months.” They said in unison.

Reverend White chuckled. “Could have fooled me.”

“Baya's wonderful with the children. We are missing them.” Bonnie crushed the bandana in her free hand repeatedly.

“How are you planning on making the muster, this year?”

“I had planned on getting the children to help. Faith and Daniel are pretty good on the cutting horses.” Baya commented. “Reckon Bonnie and I can do it in a pinch.”

The pastor's tongue poked into his cheek. “That's a heap of work for one man. I'll see who may be willing to trade off help. Neighbors pretty much depend on one another around here.” He leaned forward his expression serious as he turned to Bonnie.

“Bonnie, we do not understand God's way of leading us through life. But, He has a plan for you and those children. Believe that. Let it ease your worries. Maybe you needed this time to cement your marriage with Baya.

“Baya, your turn up with that bull seems unnecessary, but God is leading. He has a plan for you, too. You are precious to Him. So precious, He sent his only Son to die for you. So precious, He led you here, to Bonnie and the children. He loves you.”

“I've heard the story, sir.”

“Have you made it personal?”

“No. I guess not. I believe. Not so sure God's working for me, though.”

“Do you want to be sure?”

“I need to think on it,” he muttered.

The pastor stood. “I'll just move on, but first I'd like to pray with you two.”

They stood and Bonnie stepped back to lean against Baya. He snuggled her close.

“Lord, this couple is just beginning their life together. It is so wonderful to find someone to partner us through this difficult world. Someone to cling to when the way is rocky. Someone to talk to about concerns of the day. They have found each other. Father give them strength for the road ahead. Give them peace about their children. Thank you for sending your Son, Jesus, to wash away all sin. May this couple find peace in knowing Him personally. Walking, talking and relying on His mercy that they may know the truth that will guide them and mold them. Dear Lord, reach your hand out to the little ones. Keep them safe from harm. Hold them close and pour your blessings on this family. Thank you, in Christ's precious name. Amen.” He moved to take Bonnie's hand, handkerchief, and all. “Have faith, honey. God knows best.”

He reached his other to Baya and gripped him with palms as callused as the cowboy's. “Son, from where I'm sitting, you're a good man. Upright and strong in loving those children. I've heard tales that support that. I'd like to welcome you home to God's fold one day.” Stepping away, he nodded. “It's been pleasure meeting you. I'll see what we can wrangle in the way of help.”

Baya nodded, his heart strangely touched by the little man. “Come anytime, George.”

Nodding a grin their way he turned and trotted down the stone steps.

“I feel,” Bonnie's voice paused and her brow puckered. “Safer, I think. Or not quite, but almost peaceful about his visit.”

“Yeah. Odd little man isn't he?” Baya kept the truck in sight until it left the valley.

Bonnie pulled away. “I'll have to start the clothes washing tomorrow. It's too late to dry them on the line tonight.”

“Yeah.” Baya's mind had wrapped itself around only a few words the preacher man said.
Personal
worked its way to the foreground and wouldn't be dislodged. Like a burr, the word dug into his hide.
Personal.

He needed to care for the stock, but he stood leaning against the porch post and frowned as his thoughts turned to what George had said about him being precious to God. It wasn't hard to imagine Bonnie or the children being precious. But him? He'd packed a lot of living into his thirty odd years. There was nothing precious about him.

He left the porch with that ghost of a feeling he had in church and the feeling of sitting between people who loved him. “Pa.” The name left his lips as he stood flatfooted in the doorway of the barn. “Pa.” He whispered again and a scene flashed like lightening through his brain. Fried chicken, flaky golden biscuits, honey, mash potatoes, and vegetable dishes scattered on a round table as he peeked through his fingers while his Pa led the family in grace.

When his father was finished praying he lifted the platter from the tablecloth and handed it to Baya's mother.

“Precious, do you want a leg?” His mother's voice whispered through him.

Baya's knees buckled and he sat abruptly on a sack of feed, choked with emotion. He turned his head to the old house. “God,” he choked. “Did you lead me here?”

~*~

The next morning Baya went out to care for the stock. When he returned from the barn, the clothes were in the washer and the dishes done. He brought her a hat. “I need you to help me with the cattle.”

She nodded, her eyes still bruised from her tears of the day before. She placed the hat on her head and followed him to the barn. He led out the pinto mare when she reached for the tall thoroughbred.

“You'll need to use this one.”

She paused with her hand still on Gadfly's stall. “She's so small!”

“You're not enormous, Bonnie. She knows what to do and that matters.” His hand reached out to touch her cheek.

She rubbed against his hand with her eyes half closed.

He knew she was thinking of the children again and wished he could absorb the pain. Moving away, he pulled the smaller western saddle out of the tack room and settled it on the pony. The ears flicked back with nasty intent but a small manicured hand rubbed the chestnut cheek.

“She really has an attitude with people, doesn't she?” Bonnie muttered.

“She has an attitude with everything, kinda like ol' Dick. I've always thought he was mean as a snake because he's a really tall man trapped in a little body.”

She snorted lightly. “Dick's a sweetheart. Which reminds me, he is coming for a visit.” She continued to stroke the jaw and scratch under the pinto's chin.

“When?” Baya stopped cinching and almost got caught with a cow kick. After making a quick sidestep, he turned back to Bonnie. “Did he say when he was coming?”

“Oh, sometime in August.”

“Bonnie, it's August now. When did you talk to him?”

“Last week, sometime. Why don't you like him? He's always been so nice to me.”

“That's because he has the hots for you.”

“That's a terrible thing to say. If that were true, he wouldn't have found you. He's never made a pass at me. You can't say things like that, Baya McKnight. He's a married man.” Her voice steamed with indignation.

“By your own admission, married men seemed to think you were in need of their services. Some just hide it better than others.”

She gasped. “That is a really low blow. You still haven't answered my question. Why don't you like him?”

“It would take too long to explain.” Baya sighed. “We'll discuss this after we round up some cattle. OK?”

She nodded, her face tight. With an indignant sniff, she led the pinto out of the barn.

Baya followed with Lady.

They swung into the saddles and started down the road.

Baya shoved his hat back on his head, so his view of the pinto was unrestricted. He would never tell Bonnie that he felt more secure with her seven-year-old son in the saddle than her. Daniel at least respected the fire in the little mare. Bonnie seemed to think all animals were sweet pets. He didn't want this to be the day she had her ideals shattered.

They walked in silence up the rutted cow trail. The sway and scent of the horses mingled with the crisp aroma of the foliage around them.

To the left, the stream glittered silver and gave way to white rapids as it moved relentlessly into the valley.

The pinto walked along quietly enough as they made their way toward the pines on the higher slopes.

“I love riding,” Baya said. “I mean, I really like moving along on horseback and seeing this place. It gets to me somehow.” His voice trailed away unable to explain about the richness of the land easing him inside.

“I've gotten out of the habit,” she commented, pushing the hat back to lift her face to the sun. “It soothes me, though.”

“Yeah.” His answer was little more than a sigh. Baya wondered if he should try to start a conversation, but it was so peaceful riding in and out of the shadows and absorbing the quiet. “I don't talk much,” he said awkwardly.

“I like the calm.” She smiled at him. “Just us and the horses.”

He nodded as another piece of her settled in him, spreading warmth to his heart.

They came to the shallows where the road crossed the stream. Instead of turning right, as they had to get the horses, he followed the road straight up the mountain. The trail had rocks scattered in the roadway from the spring thaw, and they had to pick their way with care. “I'll have to get up here and clear this before we can bring down any hay.”

“This looks like a never ending chore.”

“Yep. Man against nature has been the theme of life since Adam. Nothing comes easy—you know that as well as me. It's just that some things are worth the effort.”

“Homemade bread.”

“Huh?”

“I make homemade bread, but it takes an awful lot out of me. It's an all-day event. Still, I love the taste of warm bread with real butter melting into it—and strawberry jam.” She drew in a deep breath. “With milk as a chaser it is incredible.”

He grinned. “Can't wait.”

She chuckled softly before they grew silent again.

When they reached the upper meadow and stood looking at the cattle, she moved nervously.

“You'll have to tell me what to do.”

“Basically, we are going to check the bushes for cows and calves. The cows hide them there—just like deer do—to keep them safe. It gets really rough trying to haze them out of the breaks.”

“Breaks?”

“The bushes and brambles down near the tree line. There's little grazing there, but it's a good place to hide calves.”

She nodded and gathered the reins of the pinto. “Where do I begin?

“Right here. I want you to listen to me. There are probably twenty-five or thirty head of mature cattle in this meadow. There can be double that if you count the calves. There are meadows further down the mountains that are safer for the cattle to winter on. This is the smallest herd and you will have to learn how to haze them here.

“I want you to ride with me at an easy walk, so we can see were the babies are. That mare you're on is going to want to go after the stragglers. Some of those old cows will try to threaten you. Just ignore them. If they are serious, I trust the pony's instincts to get you out. Let's just sashay around the meadow.”

He reined his horse to the left, and she nudged the pinto to follow.

As they moved deeper into the woods, the heavy red cow bodies shifted, moving between the horses and the babies they had hidden in the shadows.

The mare's ears perked forward, tension coiling beneath Bonnie's knees. “Ah, Baya?”

He turned at the question.

“I think Phoebe is going to blow up.” Bonnie shifted uneasily in the saddle. “She keeps acting like she's going to spring on the cattle.”

“It's what she's been trained to do. Just keep her soothed and on a tight rein.” He peered narrowly into the wooded hillside. “I think we'll have to bring them out of the trees, too.” The sigh he heaved came from his boots. “I need a full crew, not just us.”

“I'm not much good to you, am I?” She stared down at her hands resting on the saddle horn.

“You're going to be. Let's go up the mountain. If there are any stragglers that high, we'll bring them down.” He started the chubby mare into the depth of the woods, knowing the pinto would follow. Working a weaving pattern back and forth, they rousted out a few of the older cows.