In the morning, it was tempting to dally in their
bed. He knew that was a bad idea. He felt
rough enough already, and wasn't sure he could go through the emotional
flailing of making love to her one last time. It was
better to assume they were done ... to cherish the memories he already
had, rather than try to re-capture them.
That she was willing to leave their love nest was more a function of
being sated - she'd made love with him five or six times during the
night. Her overly full bladder helped too. When
she skipped outside, he got up and got dressed quickly. He was
packing their gear when she came back.
"We have to leave already?" her voice complained.
"There's a time for everything," he said, not looking at
her. "Now is the time for getting on the trail.
You'll be glad when we're back, and you can enjoy the comforts of
civilization again."
"Maybe," she said softly.
They had no trouble on the way back. She rode over next to
him about once an hour and made him take his hat off. Each
time her smile was brilliant.
Bob, thinking again like a rancher, remembered the radio, which he
hadn't even turned on during the trip, and dug it out. When he
called for the base station, Crystal's response was almost instant.
"Where ARE you?!" she yelled into her handset. "We've been worried SICK!"
"What are you talking about?" Bob asked, rolling his eyes at Brenda. "We've been on a trail ride."
"You didn't check IN!" she yelled. "ROWDY!....."
The next voice to come out of Bob's handset was his foreman's.
"Everything OK, boss?" came Rowdy's voice. Bob could hear
Crystal berating him for taking the radio away from her, in the
background. Bob grinned at Brenda.
"We're just peachy keen. Got a dozen or more head of strays with
us. I figure to just bring them on home so's you can look them
over."
"You had that girl round up strays?" asked Rowdy, his voice an octave higher than usual.
"Sure did," said Bob into the radio. "She's a fair hand, too."
"You got some mighty anxious parents hanging around here," said
Rowdy. "We sort of thought you'd check in more often than you
did." His rebuke was plain, if softly done.
Brenda reached over and took the radio. Bob showed her how to key the mike.
"I'M FINE!" she yelled into the radio.
Bob winced. It had to be loud back in the office. He shushed her and she lowered her voice.
"I'm fine," she repeated. "I'm almost starved, because Bob can't cook for beans, but I'm perfectly fine."
There was the sound of laughter as Rowdy keyed his mike. "OK,
I'll scout them up and tell them their baby girl is dandy. When
you figure to ride in?"
Brenda shrugged and handed the radio back to Bob.
"Be a couple of hours, yet, I imagine," he said. "We're not hurrying."
"Well, pick up the pace a little," said Rowdy. "The Ronsons have
been trying to get me to mount up a posse to come looking for you."
"We're coming in from the Northwest," said Bob. "The ground
is rocky for another mile or so and I don't want to run the beeves."
"I'll send a couple of the boys out to take 'em off your hands," said Rowdy.
"That's fine," said Bob. "See you in a bit."
He put the radio back in his saddle bag. Brenda was giggling.
"Oooooo you're in a lot of trouble, mister," she laughed.
"Not half as much trouble as I'll be in if they found out what we were doing all those times I wasn't checking in," he said.
"I won't tell," she said, smiling.
"You might want to think about putting some underwear on," he
said. "If you ride in with those titties bouncing around,
your Mamma is going to have a fit."
To show how much her skills had increased, Brenda got into her saddle
bags while they rode. She pulled out a bra and laid it across the
saddle in front of her. Then she took off her shirt. She
threw it to Bob, and rode on, bare-chested.
"The sun feels good on my skin," she said, grinning at him. "What if I just ride like this?"
Bob felt his gut tighten. He didn't need those feelings right now.
"You'll get sunburned, and it will be an all-over burn. You really want to explainto your Daddy how that happened?"
"Oh, you're no fun," she sulked. She picked up the bra and put it on.
"I'll never be happy wearing one of these things again," she snorted.
Bob threw her shirt back to her and she shrugged into it.
"Dust," said Bob, about an hour later. He pointed.
There was a plume of hazy brown off in the direction they were
headed. Ten minutes later Luis and Rodney, two of the ranch
hands, went wide of the tiny herd and circled to come up from behind,
still at a gallop. They pulled up, and their horses were suddenly
walking beside Ranger and Buttercup.
"Surprised you found that many," said Luis. "That'll make Rowdy happy."
"No it won't," said Rodney. "He'll just bitch that we missed that many on the last sweep."
"Don't tell him we didn't try very hard," said Bob, grinning.
"And you must be Miss Brenda Ronson," said Luis, tipping his hat. "Been some excitement around the place, about you."
Brenda beamed. "My parents worry too much about me. Bob here took very good care of me. I had a great time."
"It will never cease to amaze me," said Luis, seriously, "how folks can
do this and call it a great time." He grinned, flashing a
gold tooth.
"I wish it had taken longer," said Brenda. Bob was glad to see she didn't look at him when she said it.
"Boss?" said Rodney.
Bob looked at him.
"How come you ain't got no hair hanging down from under that hat?
You have another accident at the camp fire? Fall in or
sum'pin?"
Bob took off his hat. There were double gasps from the
boys. Brenda reached up and took hers off too, looking nervous.
"Well, boys, you see, it was like this. I had to wrestle a
bear. It came for us the first night ... a huge old grizzly ...
hungry from the long winter. Must have stood seven or eight
feet high. Scared the hair plumb off of both of
us! All I had was my Buck knife, but losing all my
hair had me riled up some, so it worked out all right." He smiled
widely. "I can't take all the credit, though. Dammit
helped a bit, and Brenda, here whacked him with a stick."
He put his hat back on. Brenda closed her sagging mouth and put hers on too.
Luis cackled. "You smell smoke, Rodney? They's got to be a
campfire around here somewhere for him to tell a whopper like
that." He grinned at Bob. "Though I have to say, your lies
have improved some."
Rodney laughed too. "You'd better pick it up a little,
boss. Her parents are riding out to meet you, and they don't sit
a horse all that good. We'll take care of this pitiful little
herd of calves you scrounged up."
They proceeded at a canter, until they saw dust again. It wasn't
as much this time, because the horses causing that dust weren't running
flat out.
"Let's show them what you can do," said bob, leaning forward. "HeAH" he yelled.
Brenda leaned forward automatically, and grinned as the horses went
into a gallop. She saw her parents, perched stiffly on
horses, and the man she knew as Rowdy riding with them.
They went in a large circle, riding around the small group, still
running hard as Brenda held her hat on with one hand and yelled at the
top of her lungs. Dammit ran for all she was worth, keeping pace
and barking excitedly. After a complete circuit, they slowed to a
trot, and went up to the group of gapeing riders. Even
Rowdy's mouth was hanging open as he stared at Brenda.
"Nice day for a ride," said Bob.
Dave and Linda Ronson's eyes were only for their daughter.
"Are you all right, sweetheart?" asked Linda breathlessly.
"I'm fine, Mommy," said the girl, her voice sounding younger than it had on the trip. "I had a wonderful time."
"We were so worried about you ... when you didn't check in," said the woman, darting a look at Bob.
"Ohhh Mom, I got to see so many cool things. I saw a BEAR!"
Dave Ronson turned pale, and Linda gaped.
"And she had two cubs with her!" said Brenda excitedly.
"Binoculars," said Bob, trying to head off an explosion. "They were on the other side of the valley from us."
"Thank goodness," sighed Linda.
"And we climbed a mountain and I could see forever," sighed Brenda.
"You ... climbed a ... mountain?" Linda looked shocked.
"One all by myself," said Brenda proudly. "While Bob was down
..." She looked startled. She'd been about to say while Bob
was down taking a bath at the bottom of the falls. That, she
decided, wasn't the best thing to say. "While Bob was busy," she
amended, lamely.
"It was really just a rock spire," said Bob, feeling dread. "Plenty of handholds and footholds."
Rowdy was grinning now. "Well, at least you didn't scandalize any
more guests by chasing your dog naked through the brush?"
Brenda sat up straight. "He really DID that?" she yipped.
"I thought that was a camp fire lie!" She looked over at
Bob. He shrugged.
"Camp fire lie?" asked Linda weakly.
"It's a tradition," said Rowdy, waving his hands expansively. "We
sit around the campfire and tell tall tales. Bob's never been
much of a liar, though. 'Course his life has been fairly
exciting - not humdrum like most of us - so even when he tells the
truth it's pretty interesting."
Brenda looked indignant. "All those stories you told ... they're true!"
Bob grinned. "They're the only stories I know," he said.
"I feel cheated," she said, in mock ferocity. She turned to her
parents, who were staring at her, almost with shock. "I want to
stay longer. He owes me some real lies!"
"Honey, are you sure you're OK?" asked her father, concern on his face.
"You look ..." He frowned. "Remember how Doctor
MacNiel said that, just before ..." He looked frustrated
"You'll feel really good just before you ..."
"Daddy," said Brenda, frowning. "I had a good time. I
feel fine. I don't think I'm going to fall off this horse in ten
minutes and die."
"We can't stay," said Linda sadly. "We have other things planned,
and then we need to get back home. We have things to do.
You need to be home when it gets worse."
Brenda slumped.
"OK," she said softly. "I know."
Now that he had put a complete damper on her excitement, Dave tried to
get her to talk more about the trip as they walked the horses toward
the ranch. Brenda answered questions, but her excitement
was gone. It seemed like a long ride. Both of
the Ronson adults had gotten to ride horses, while she was gone, but
neither was comfortable cantering, and the way Linda was grasping the
saddle horn made a gallop a bad idea too. Neither of them was
really comfortable on a horse.
They were almost to the ranch, when Linda suddenly jerked her head up and looked at her daughter.
"Where's your wig?" she asked.
"Dammit ate it," said Brenda. She pointed down at the dog, trotting along beside them.
"What?!" came Dave's mildly outraged gasp.
"I took it off to sleep, and she found it and thought it was an animal
or something. She tried to kill it. It was too messed
up to wear any more."
She rode closer to Bob and leaned over to take his hat off.
"See what Bob did for me?"
It might have been strange, or tense, or any number of things, but Rowdy's howl of laughter made it into a good thing.
"We try to make all out guests as comfortable as possible at the Lazy
N," said Bob, his face straight. "I just figured she'd be
more comfortable if she wasn't the only one who had to look that way."
"That's so sweet," sighed Linda. She sounded just like her daughter had when she'd said the same thing.
Rowdy was still chortling. Bob threw him a look. "I'm
thinking of having everybody on the ranch do this," he said, glaring at
his foreman. "If you're ever back this way, you just let me
know and I'll make sure your daughter feels VERY comfortable."
Rowdy just laughed harder.
The Ronsons wasted no time in whisking their daughter off home ... to
die. Once they were back, Bob didn't see her again until
the family was ready to leave. Brenda had her hat with her,
but wasn't wearing it as she walked into the kitchen, where Donna was
feeding Bob. The cook had a smile on her face, and seemed to be
spending more time looking at Bob's bald head, than at what she was
cooking.
"We're leaving now," said Brenda, looking sad. Bob
could see in her eyes that she wanted to hug him, but her parents were
right behind her. Dave looked anxious.
"I'm glad you had a good time," he said, standing up. What
could they do. She'd be dead in a month, if the doctor had called
it right. He held his arms open.
"I had a wonderful time," she said, tears in her eyes, as she hugged
him fiercely. "You made all my dreams come true."
"I'll miss you," he said, patting her back. "You turned out to be a pretty good cowgirl."
She stood back and wiped her eyes. "Will you come to the funeral?"
He ducked his head. "Sure."
"Will you bring Dammit?" Her shoulders were shaking now.
"I don't think they'd like that, at the funeral parlor," he said gently.
"I'll tell them they HAVE to let her come," cried the girl. "It's MY funeral!"
This wasn't going well at all, and Bob just wanted it to be over.
The heaviness on his heart was beginning to feel familiar.
"I'll bring her," he said. "Now, get on out of here before I bawl like a baby."
She had the presence of mind to kiss him on the cheek, instead of the
lips. "I really do love you," she whispered. Then she fled back
to her parents. They looked concerned. Linda gave Bob a
tentative smile.
"Thank you for everything," she said.
"My pleasure, Ma'am," he said heavily.
Then they were gone.
Bob turned around to see Donna wiping her eyes.
"It's just so sad!" she said, complaint in her voice.
"It's just life, Donna," he said. "And part of life is ... death."
It took two weeks until she wasn't constantly on his mind.
The next two weeks were equally rough, when he wasn't thinking about
Brenda, he was thinking about Dannie. As, when Dannie had
gone, now that Brenda was gone too, he had no sex drive at all.
When he thought about Brenda, it was her face, and bald head he
envisioned. He could conjure up the view of her pert young
breasts, and those tight pussy lips, clasped around his prick, but he
didn't like to. It was her smile he missed the most.
When he wasn't missing her smile, he was missing Dannie's.
He threw himself into work at the ranch, even taking guests out.
The newness of each stranger gave him something to concentrate on, but
he wasn't his usual carefree self. That, and the half-inch
long hair all over his head made the guests a little wary of him
sometimes.
He kept expecting to get the notification that he was expected at a
funeral. When, six weeks after the Ronsons drove away from
the ranch, he got back from a trip to find Crystal twisting a message
note in her hands, he wasn't surprised when she told him Linda Ronson
had called, and wanted him to call her back.
He wanted to put off calling her, but if he did that, he might miss the
service, so he clamped down on his feelings and dialed the
number. Crystal hovered around him, wanting to do something to
help, but not knowing what that was. Rowdy wandered in too, and
Bob knew Crystal had tipped him off.
"Hello?" came the female voice on the phone.
"Bob Nivens," he said into the phone.
"Oh! Mr. Nivens! I'm SO glad you called back!" said
Linda. She sounded much too happy to be telling him when the
funeral was.
"Something has happened!" she said.
"I'm sorry," said Bob, automatically. It was what he had been prepared to say.
"No! You don't understand!" said the woman. "Brenda hasn't
gotten sicker. The doctors don't understand it at
all. The tumor is still there, but it's gotten smaller!"
"That's wonderful," said Bob. He didn't know quite how to feel, but he knew what to say.
"They think maybe it had something to do with her visit to your ranch."
"How could that be?" he asked.
"They don't KNOW," said the woman, her voice full of emotion.
"But that's the only thing that changed in her daily routine.
Maybe it was the air ... or the riding ... or SOMETHING. They
can't think of any other reason why she's gone into remission!"
"She's in remission?!" gasped Bob.
"Yes!" There was silence. "At least they THINK so.
Like I said, the tumor is still there ... but it's gotten smaller!"
"She's OK?" asked Bob, his gut tight.
"She feels fine!" said the happy woman. "She wants to come back for another visit!"
"Do you think that's a good idea?" asked Bob. He had been
... almost ... prepared for Brenda to die. He wasn't
prepared at all for Brenda to live.
"We have no idea," said Linda. "But it can't hurt. I mean
the last time, when I saw her, I knew something was different, but I
couldn't figure it out. She looked so happy ... and
healthy. But now we know! Maybe it was the water."
She sounded doubtful.
"I'll give you all the water you want," said Bob, grasping for anything
at all to say. He suddenly felt like he'd faint.
"The ranch is all she'll talk about," said Linda. "She
draws pictures of that horse she rode ... and the DOG, for pity's
sake! And bears, and mountains and trees and
EVERYTHING! Can't we please bring her back there? I
know you're booked for years and all that, but it would mean so much to
us."
Bob felt helpless. "She's welcome any time," he heard his voice say. "We'll make room on the schedule for her."
"Oh THANK you!" said the excited woman. "We won't be able
to stay the whole time - her father and I - we've already used up all
our vacation with her treatment, and the last time, of course ... but
we know she'll be in good hands."
"I guess that will be all right," said Bob, feeling dizzy.
"Oh, if something happens, we can get there in just a few hours," Linda assured him.
"We'll work that all out when I see you," he said weakly.
Linda told him she'd call him with a firm date, and hung
up. Bob turned to find Crystal, Donna and Rowdy all staring
at him, excitement on their faces.
"She's in remission?!" gasped Crystal.
"I guess so," said Bob, slumping.
"Well what in the world is wrong with you?" asked Donna. "This is WONDERFUL!"
"I guess so," said Bob, trying to think. His mind was awhirl.
"You gals git on out of here, now," said Rowdy gruffly. "The Boss and I need to make plans."
"I handle bookings," said Crystal, incensed.
"Git!" snarled Rowdy.
The two women went, complaining to the door. They were still complaining when Rowdy slammed it.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" asked the foreman.
"I don't know," said Bob, helplessly.
"I figured you'd be happy for that girl." said Rowdy.
"I am," said Bob. He didn't sound really happy. "I mean
it's really good." He looked miserable. "I thought
she was going to die."
"Well the way you're acting ..." Rowdy stopped, frowning. "You're
acting like you did when ..." He looked shrewdly at his
boss.
"You fell for that little slip of a girl on that trip ... didn't you?"
Bob had tears in his eyes. Everything he had done so carefully,
to prepare for the inevitable, was coming unraveled. He felt like
he'd been hit by a bus. When she'd left, he'd come to a kind of
peace with his dead wife. The girl who had competed for her
memory was gone ... would be gone ... and he could live with
that. Now, his feelings for the girl were bubbling up ...
percolating ... roiling in his head. He would actually SEE her
again ... be able to TOUCH her again. He felt horrible for
being so happy about that. "I'm sorry," he said. He
was talking to Dannie, but Rowdy didn't know that.
"What the hell are you SORRY about?" growled the old man. "I mean
she's just a kid, but she'd of got under ANYBODY's skin that spent some
time with her. I half fell in love with her myself, and I only
spent a couple hours with her."
"I can't feel like that about her," moaned Bob. "It's wrong!"
"OK, she's a little young. But if that thing in her head ain't
killing her no more, then she'll grow up in a couple of years.
Then it won't be so wrong any more. You can wait a couple
of years, can't you?"
"You don't GET it, Rowdy," wailed Bob. "I never felt like that about any woman except DANNIE!"
"She's gone, boss," said the man softly.
"Get out," said Bob, his voice tense.
"Come on, Boss," said Rowdy, reaching out to touch bob's shoulder. "Just because ..."
"GET OUT!" yelled Bob.
"All right," said Rowdy, subdued. "We'll talk about this later."
"We will NOT talk about this later," snarled Bob.
Rowdy stuck his face to within an inch of Bob's, but his tone was
calm. "Don't you take that tone with me, boy. I'm your
friend, and you know that. We WILL talk about this
later. You let me know, when you're ready." He backed
up. "And it should probably be before that girl shows up
again."
He left, closing the door, before Bob could say anything else.
