Between Heaven and Texas (14 page)

C
HAPTER 25

T
he second piece of pie definitely lifted Mary Dell's spirits, but no dessert in the world could mask the fact that she had some very real problems to face.

“I just don't know how I'm going to manage without Donny,” she said as she picked up the crimped, golden-brown edge of the piecrust between her fingers and nibbled at it.

“You'll figure it out,” Silky assured her. “You're smarter and tougher than you give yourself credit for, honey.”

“But I don't know the first thing about running a ranch. Well,” she said, reconsidering, “maybe I know the first thing, the basics, but not enough. Not like Donny. I never figured on being a rancher.”

“Maybe you don't have to be,” Silky reasoned. “Maybe you can find somebody to run it for you and then you can concentrate on what you're really good at and interested in. You hear anything from that lady at the magazine yet?”

Mary Dell popped the last crumb of piecrust into her mouth and moved her head from side to side. “No, and I'm starting to think I never will.”

“Don't say that! Take it back, right now. Nobody ever accomplished anything by doubting themselves. Half of success is just showing up, honey, so you just keep on doing what you've been doing. Make your quilts, send in those patterns. You've got a gift, Mary Dell. A very special gift. Sooner or later, somebody is bound to realize how talented you are. Mark my words.” Silky pointed the tines of her fork at her granddaughter to underscore her point. “In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if, before it's all said and done, you become a great big fat famous quilting legend.”

Mary Dell laughed, the first time she had done so in days, and started gathering up the empty plates.

“Oh, Granny. You're sweet, but I don't think there is such a thing as a quilting legend.”

Silky raised her eyebrows. “No? Well, if there isn't, there ought to be. And since it's bound to happen eventually, I can't see any reason why you shouldn't be the one it happens to.”

 

After they cleared the table and washed the dishes, Mary Dell offered to make up the sofa bed for her, but Silky declined. “If I don't sleep in my own bed, I don't sleep at all. Besides, it's probably best to leave you be. You've got some thinking to do.”

Mary Dell stood at the door and waved good-bye to her grandmother, taking Howard's little arm and moving it up and down so he could wave too.

“Say bye-bye to Granny, Howard. Say we hope she comes back soon.”

Mary Dell took Howard inside and laid him down on the floor on top of his fruit salad quilt. As soon as she did, he started to cry, so she put him on her lap and read picture books to him, flipping the pages, elaborating on the illustrations, telling him that dinosaurs were extinct, mice gave birth to live babies, and that in lion families, it was the lioness who did all the important work and the daddy lion mostly lay around looking handsome, mating, and roaring real loud.

“Seems to be a lot of that kind of thing going around,” Mary Dell said to Howard, whose eyes were beginning to droop.

“Uh-oh. That wasn't nice of me, was it? I'm sorry. I won't say mean things about your daddy again. Being mad never helped anybody anyway, did it? No, sir. Being mad just gives you wrinkles and indigestion. We don't want that, do we? No, we don't. We're going to be fine all on our own, aren't we, Howard? We don't need anybody else; we've got each other.”

After bathing and feeding the baby and tucking him into bed, Mary Dell went around the trailer to make sure all the doors and windows were locked. She had never locked the doors before, but she'd never been alone in the house at night before either. It was true that in the weeks since Howard's birth, Donny had rarely been home when she'd gone to bed or when she rose in the morning, but she knew he always
would
be, and that made all the difference. The trailer wasn't large, but suddenly it felt much too big. She opened the doors of the closets to make sure they were empty and drew the living room drapes closed, something else she didn't normally do.

Other than the bank robbery pulled off by Bonnie and Clyde back during the Depression and occasional bouts of gunplay by jealous wives or drunken cowboys, serious crime was all but unknown in Too Much. A part of Mary Dell felt silly, tiptoeing around locking doors, peeking into closets, and listening for noises. Donny was gone, but other than that, nothing had changed. This was still her house, her town. Why should she be frightened?

Grandma Silky was right; Mary Dell had some thinking to do. In these last four days, she'd hardly moved or spoken. All her attention was turned inward; she'd been feeling but not thinking. Now she had to. She had to figure out a way to survive in a world that no longer included a husband.

She was not helpless without Donny; she'd never been helpless. Nor was she afraid of hard work. But she had relied on Donny for certain things, most of which fell into the broad theme of protection. She'd never worried about noises in the night before, or the possibility of anyone breaking in, because she knew that Donny slept lightly and was a good shot. With Donny around, she'd never worried about money either. Oh, sure, she was the one who kept track of their spending, wrote the checks, filled out the tax forms, and clipped coupons out of the grocery circular every Sunday. And she was the more frugal of the two, more averse to spending than her husband, acquisitions to her fabric stash being the only exception. But Donny was the provider and always had been.

They'd had lean years and fat years. Still, she'd always known that Donny would make sure there was food on the table and gas in the truck. Donny took care of her, of everybody—Granny, Daddy and Momma, Lydia Dale and her family—everybody. And he'd never complained about it. Well, almost never.

She wished she'd told him more often how much she appreciated that. If she had, maybe he wouldn't have left? No. Donny hadn't gone away because he felt unappreciated or because he minded taking care of everybody. He'd gone because he didn't think he could do
enough
to take care of everybody, of Howard and of her. He'd gone because he'd finally run up against a problem he couldn't fix. And that was the difference between them.

Mary Dell didn't see Howard as a problem. Yes, he
had
some problems—what child didn't? But that wasn't the same as
being
a problem. Howard didn't need to be fixed. Howard needed to be loved, guided, taught, provided for, and protected, as any child did. And now it was up to Mary Dell to figure out how to do it, all of it.

She poured herself a cup of cold coffee and put it in the microwave. While it was heating, she dug through the drawer where they kept the checkbooks, ledgers, receipts, and unpaid bills and pulled out anything that looked important. When the timer on the microwave rang, she carried the papers, the coffee, a pen, and a pocket calculator to the kitchen table, pushing aside a stack of books on child care to make room for everything.

For the next hour and a half, she pored over the books and bills, trying to get a handle on what they had, what they owed, and what they could expect to owe in the coming weeks and months. It was very educational—not in a good way.

Even though Mary Dell had always been the one who wrote the checks and balanced the books, she'd never really stood back to take in the big picture, to understand how (and how much) cash flowed in and out of the business in any given year. It was a lot more complicated, expensive, and precarious than she'd ever realized.

At the moment, they had $22,672.96 in the checking account. It sounded like a lot of money, and it was, but with that she had to support the entire family and pay all the bills as well as salaries for their three hired men until some more money came in the door, which wouldn't happen until they sent the cattle to market. And if the drought were to continue, and it probably would, she'd be forced to buy more feed. She shook her head as she added up the feed bills; could they really have spent so much already this year? And how could she afford to buy even more? Especially since it was likely beef prices would drop when ranchers decided to sell off their herds rather than feed them, flooding the market. Of course, that might mean that prices would go up the following year because the supply was low, but Mary Dell's immediate concern was figuring out how to get through
this
year.

Thank heaven for the sheep.

Donny always said ranchers and gamblers were next of kin. That was why he decided to raise sheep as well as cattle, as a means of hedging his bets, hoping that sheep would get them through years when beef profits were down and vice versa. As Mary Dell pored over her papers, she was glad Donny had done so. At the moment, it looked as if their sustenance and salvation lay with the sheep—if the lambing went well. And that was a big if.

A lot of things could go wrong, especially now that Donny wasn't around. A herd as big as theirs required extra hands during lambing season, but the last thing she could afford to do right now was bring on more hired men. They had three already—Pete Samson, his cousin Ikey Truluck, and Moises Rivera. Mary Dell didn't much care for Pete and Ikey; they were raised in Too Much and pretty shiftless, though Donny had always kept them in line. Moises was a hard worker, but he was new and had never been through a lambing season.

And, of course, there was Dutch. With Donny gone, she supposed he'd be the head man now, bless him. Mary Dell loved her father, and he loved her back, but she wasn't blind to his faults. Even in his prime, before age, weight, and diabetes had taken their toll, Dutch was never what you could call a go-getter, and he didn't know sheep, not like Donny did. Bottom line was, even if she were rich as Noodie and Marlena Benton, there was no one she could hire for love or money with Donny's experience and know-how, who would work as hard or care as much about the F-Bar-T and the family as he had.

“Oh, Donny,” she whispered aloud. “How could you go off and leave me with all this?”

She felt flushed with the heat that precedes a fall of tears, but she swallowed them back. Weeping wouldn't change anything. She needed solutions, but none came to mind.

Well, none besides tracking Donny down, roping him, hogtying him, and hauling him back to the ranch . . . Maybe that was what she'd have to do. Find him and bring him home. Not forever, not for long, but perhaps for long enough.

Donny was wrong about her being able to raise Howard better without him, wrong about so many, many things, but as wrong as he was, Mary Dell knew he hadn't reached his decisions lightly and that she had little to no chance of getting him to change his mind.

But maybe, just maybe, if she could find him and talk sense to him, make him see that she needed him to come back to Too Much for a year, or six months, or at least through the lambing season, long enough for him to help her get a handle on how to run the ranch herself . . . she would promise that at the end of that time, he could go on his way with no recriminations or guilt . . . that she wouldn't ask for his love or even speak the word. . .. Donny could have the trailer, and she and Howard would move into town or the big house . . . it would be strictly a business relationship . . .

Mary Dell took a last slurp of coffee, which was cold again, and sighed. It was crazy, a long shot even if she could find him. But it was the only shot she had, and she couldn't just sit here and do
nothing
. Granny Silky was right. She was a momma, and mommas didn't have the option of giving up or giving in.

Whether she'd volunteered for the job or not, she was the head of the family now.

C
HAPTER 26

T
he next morning Mary Dell put two suitcases and the stroller into the trunk of her car, then buckled Howard into the car seat.

“We're going to stop up at the big house and see Grandpa. What do you think about that?” she asked, putting her face right next to the baby's and smiling. “And then we're going to run by the Tidee-Mart to buy some car snacks for Momma and a box of Pampers for you. And
then
we're going to go off and have ourselves an adventure! Won't that be fun?”

Howard didn't say anything, just squirmed and yawned, which, like almost everything that precious child did, melted his mother's heart.

“Howard Hobart Bebee, I just love you something terrible. Do you know that? Well, I do!”

When she arrived at the big house, she saw a blue truck parked near the barn. It belonged to Dr. Espinoza, the large-animal vet, who was just about to drive away. Mary Dell quickly pulled up next to her and jumped out of her car, leaving the door open so Howard would stay cool.

“Hey, Val. What are you doing here? Anything wrong?”

Val put her truck back into park. “I just came out to run the ultrasound on your ewes. The rams did their job. Just about all the girls are bred, and you've got a whole lot of twins coming, some triplets too. You
might
have a real good year.”

“Or we might not?”

Val scratched a spot behind her ear and tipped her head to the side, looking a little apologetic. “Well, if Donny was around I wouldn't be so concerned. Getting two or even three lambs from one ewe will double or triple your profits. But multiple births also increase the odds of something going wrong. Dutch marked the ewes as I did the ultrasounds, red for twins, blue for triplets. That way you can put them into separate folds when lambing season comes and keep a closer eye on the ewes carrying multiples.”

Mary Dell nodded as Val spoke. She already understood the system; Donny had explained it to her before. “Right. But that's no different than any other year, is it?”

Val propped her elbow up onto the window and rested her chin in her hand. “No, but you've got a
lot
of multiples this year, Mary Dell. Dutch is a good cowman, good enough anyway, but he doesn't know sheep. Cows just stay out on the range and drop their calves on their own. They don't usually need help. But sheep are different. Helps if the man in charge has some experience. Donny had to get a couple of seasons under his belt before he got the hang of it, remember?”

Mary Dell did. They lost one lamb in five that first year, and all their profits too. That was the year they'd had macaroni and cheese for dinner five nights a week.

“Your dad isn't as young as he used to be. I'm just not sure he's up to it.”

Mary Dell frowned. “Val, what are you trying to say? Is Daddy sick? Do you think he's . . .”

Val lifted her hand to make it clear she wasn't going there. “No, I mean the diabetes has been an issue for a while, but as far as I can tell, he seems fine. Look, Mary Dell, I'm a vet, not an MD. But if your dad were a border collie, I'd say he's getting on and that his sheep-herding years were behind him. I'd also tell him to take off a few pounds, but,” she said with a wry smile, “I imagine his doc has already mentioned that.”

“Once or twice,” Mary Dell said. “Doesn't seem to have made much difference. Daddy likes his Dr Pepper. Barbecue too.”

“Don't we all? Look, Dutch is doing his best but, bottom line, he's not capable of running this ranch long term. Come lambing time, he's going to need a lot of help.”

“Yes, I'd already thought about that. I'm working on it.”

The vet nodded. “Good. I'm not trying to butt into family business, Mary Dell. I'm just trying to help.”

“I know. And I'll take all the advice I can get, believe me. Thanks for coming out. What do I owe you?”

Val smiled and shifted the truck into reverse. “The advice is free. I'll mail you a bill for the ultrasound.”

Mary Dell lifted her hand in farewell as Val drove off, a cloud of dust rising up behind her truck.

“I figured.”

 

Dutch was sitting on top of a fence smoking a cigarette. His eyes looked tired, and his shoulders drooped. But when he saw Mary Dell come around the corner holding Howard in her arms, his face lit up. He hopped down from the fence, crushed his cigarette with the toe of his boot, and walked toward them holding out both arms.

“How's my big bubba?” he asked with a grin, taking Howard into his arms, lifting him high over his head and then bringing him down closer so they were practically nose to nose. “Did you come out to see your old granddaddy? Did you? What do you say, pardner? Wanna saddle up and go for a ride?”

Mary Dell grinned and crossed her arms over her chest, pretending to be offended. “Daddy? In case you hadn't noticed, I'm here too.”

Dutch tucked the baby into the crook of one arm, put his other arm over Mary Dell's shoulders, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, baby girl. How're you? I heard you were feeling low, but you can't tell to look at you.”

“It was a temporary condition,” Mary Dell assured him as they walked toward the pasture fence.

He squeezed her shoulders, then leaned down and planted a kiss on Howard's forehead. “Look at this big old fat boy. Bulking up just good, is he?”

Mary Dell nodded and said in a scolding tone, “Daddy, what are you doing out here smoking? You know it's bad for you. I thought you gave it up.”

“I did,” Dutch said, ducking his head sheepishly. “Mostly. It's a hard habit to break, baby girl. I only have one a day. Two at the most. You won't go telling your momma, will you? Since they tossed her out of the Women's Club, she's got nothing better to do than nag me from sunup to sundown. I love that woman, but I'll tell you the truth, there's just no living with her when she's in a mood. I've been happy to get out of the house.”

“Thanks for helping out, Daddy.”

“That's all right, honey. You know I'm glad to do it. But I gotta say, wrangling sheep sure wears a man out,” he said with a sigh. “I must be older than I thought.”

“Well,” Mary Dell said, looking around the yard, “where's your help? We're paying three hands. Why didn't you have them handle the sheep?”

“Moises went to check on the cattle, bring them some feed. We're running low, by the way.”

“Again? All right, I'll see about putting in another order. What happened to Pete and Ikey?”

“Called in sick. Said they ate some bad potato salad.” Dutch made a sucking sound with his teeth. “More like nursing a hangover, if you ask me. Now that Donny's gone, those two are worthless, not that they were worth much to begin with.”

“Well, don't put up with it. Give them what for and tell them to get back to work.”

“Easier said than done. They know I can't afford to fire them, not right now. Anyway, don't worry about it. I'll manage. Honey, I didn't get a chance to tell you before, but I'm sorry about Donny.” Dutch shook his head. “Never figured he'd run off like that. Always liked that boy. Straight shooter. Hard worker. And a way better rancher than me, that's for sure.”

“You're doing fine, Daddy.”

They stopped outside at the fence. Mary Dell rested her arms on the top rail and looked out at the sheep pasture. Seemed like more than half of the ewes had red marks on their wool, and she counted at least three who were marked with blue.

“I saw the vet when I drove in. She told me we got a bumper crop of lambs coming on. Looks like she was telling the truth.”

“Uh-huh.” Dutch stared out at the sheep.

Mary Dell patted his arm. “Don't worry, Daddy. I'm going to get you some help. I'm going to try anyway. That's what I came up here to talk to you about. I'm going to go look for Donny and ask him to come back, just for a while, just through the lambing season.”

“You know where he is?”

“No. I mean . . . I got a letter from him. He mailed it from Midland, so I thought I'd try there first, and then maybe Lubbock. It's a little over a hundred miles from one to the other. Maybe he decided to head home?”

Dutch raised his eyebrows doubtfully. “Trying to find one cowboy in all of Texas is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.”

“I know, but I've got an advantage; how many cowboys in Texas wear peacock-blue shirts and rhinestone belt buckles? If somebody has seen Donny, they're bound to remember him. He cuts quite a figure, you have to admit.”

Dutch chuckled at the truth of this, but Mary Dell could see he wasn't convinced her plan would work. That made two of them.

“I know it's a long shot, Daddy, but I've at least got to
try
to find him. I won't be gone more than five days. If I can't find him by then, I'll come home and . . . well, we'll just figure out something else, that's all. But don't you worry, some way or other, I'm going to get you some help.”

Dutch nodded without saying anything. Mary Dell could tell he was a little embarrassed to admit that he needed help, but he was also relieved to hear it was coming. He looked down at Howard, who was beginning to fuss.

“Here, Daddy. I'll take him. We should get going anyway. I just wanted to stop by and let you know what I was up to.” She kissed him and took the baby from his arms. “Tell Momma and Lydia Dale where I went, will you?”

Dutch touched her on the shoulder.

“Baby girl, don't you want to run up to the house and tell your momma yourself? She's all torn up to think you're still mad with her. And she's just itching to get her hands on this little baby. She wanted to come see you when you were feeling so low, but Lydia Dale didn't think that would be a good idea.”

Mary Dell looked at her father. Silky didn't stop to think if it'd be a good idea to come to her granddaughter's side in her moment of despair. She just baked a pie, got in the car, and came to the rescue. She didn't ask permission; she just did it.

“You know,” Dutch went on, “Taffy didn't mean what she said at the hospital that day—not the way it came out. It was a terrible thing to say, but people our age . . . well, it was just ignorance, that's all. And she was upset. Hell, we all were. Took a little getting used to, even for you. Don't try to say it didn't.”

“I know,” Mary Dell said. “But, Daddy, I got a lot on my plate right now. And Momma . . . every time I see her, there ends up being some kind of drama. I just don't have the energy for it. Or the time. I'll see her when I get back. And I'll bring Howard.”

“Thank you, baby girl. I know that'd mean a lot to her. Come on. I'll walk you to the car.”

They headed back toward the barn, but after a few steps Dutch stumbled. Mary Dell reached out and grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.

“Daddy! Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Dutch said in a disgusted tone as he straightened up and regained his balance. “It's just this fool foot of mine. It wants to drag now and again. It's the diabetes, affects the nerves or some such thing. But I'm fine. Don't worry.”

“Daddy,” Mary Dell said with a scowl, “you have got to start taking better care of yourself. You've got to start eating right and keeping your blood sugar under control. And you have got to quit smoking. I mean it. Next time I catch you with a cigarette, I
will
tell Momma.”

Dutch lifted his eyebrows. “Now, baby girl, you wouldn't do that to me, would you?”

“Just try me and see. I can't have you tripping and breaking your leg or getting sick. I need you! We all do.”

Dutch sighed deeply and looked at his grandson, who was staring at him with wide eyes. “Howard, you know what they say about it being a man's world? Well, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but it just ain't true.”