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Authors: Lauraine Snelling

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BOOK: Opal
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‘‘I’m glad he’s dead.’’

‘‘The drifter.’’

‘‘Um-hmm. Why do men do such terrible things?’’

‘‘No one taught them about Jesus and God’s love. When we don’t have that, people can do the cruelest, most vicious, most despicable things imaginable.’’ Ruby shuddered. ‘‘Some even beyond imagining.’’ She stroked Opal’s hair. ‘‘But we live in the light of the cross, in God’s love. And you can’t be bitter. Somehow God is going to work all this out for His glory.’’

‘‘How?’’

‘‘I don’t know. But I’ve seen Him do so in the past. Why would this time be any different? He’s the same yesterday, today, and forever. Remember how we thought it was so awful when our father died the night we got to Dove House? Remember how we came all that way and looked at the mess we walked into?’’

Opal drew in a shuddery breath.

‘‘And now those girls, all but Belle, know Jesus as their savior. And they are happy and married and have all the good things they thought they would never have.’’

‘‘Mrs. Brandon said I can’t think this is all my fault, but it sure seems like I started it all.’’

‘‘Life seems that way at times. But she’s right.’’

‘‘Mrs. Brandon is pretty wise.’’

‘‘Yes, she is. And a wonderful friend.’’

‘‘She wanted me to stay back there.’’

‘‘I know.’’

‘‘But I live here.’’

‘‘Thank you, God. I’ve missed you so.’’ Ruby squeezed her close. ‘‘Putting you on that train was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I had to get you out of harm’s way.’’

‘‘I know that now. Or at least I think I do.’’ Opal reached over and took a handkerchief out of the drawer of the stand beside her bed. After blowing her nose she flopped back on the pillow. ‘‘I told Atticus I’d pray for him and that he has to send me his address so I can write to him. But I don’t think he will. Robert might, though.’’

Ruby sighed. ‘‘It’s hard to let go of people we care about.’’

‘‘Uh-huh. Thank you, Ruby. I love you.’’

Ruby sniffed back the burning behind her own eyes and in her nose. ‘‘And I love you. Good night.’’

She made her way back to her own bed and slid carefully under the sheet.

‘‘Things all right now?’’

‘‘I hope so. I think our Opal has done some growing up.’’

Rand laid out his arm so she could put her head on his shoulder. ‘‘Life kind of forces that at times.’’

‘‘She’s had to face some pretty hard things. Life seems so much easier back in New York, and I was afraid she would stay.’’

‘‘Our Opal doesn’t go for easy.’’ Rand kissed the side of her forehead.

Opal was out milking by the time Ruby entered the kitchen in the morning. She’d heard the screen door slam while she was dressing. Little Squirrel already had the coffee made, so Ruby poured herself a cup and took it out on the back porch where the sun was drinking dew, lending sparkles to the droplets on the spider web between the yellow rosebush and the cream hollyhock. A big brown spider waited in the center of the fine web.

Ruby watched it groom one leg and then the other. ‘‘Catch as many flies as you can. They’re especially abundant this year.’’

A pair of house finches brought in their first offerings of the day for the noisy brood that had hatched in their nest in the upper corner joining porch roof and house.

She could hear the clatter as Little Squirrel put more wood in the firebox and set the lids back in place, all morning sounds, kitchen music.

Cat paraded up the path, tail straight in the air, a field mouse dangling from her jaws.

‘‘So you’re bringing in breakfast too.’’

Cat chirped and padded over to the box where her current batch of kittens were old enough to begin eating solid food. Cat called them out and laid the mouse in front of them.

Two dashed to her side, ready to nurse. One sniffed the mouse, and the largest one yawned, his pink tongue and white teeth bright against his gray face.

Ruby leaned against the porch post and watched.

Cat pushed the mouse with one paw. The watching kitten leaped backward as if attacked. The yawner hunkered down and hissed. The chorus of two pleaded for her to lay down or stand up, whatever, but let them eat.

Cat settled down on her paws and ripped the mouse open. One kitten came over and licked the open spot, then growling, sank his teeth in.

‘‘Well, good for you, Cat, you got one going.’’ Ruby tossed the dregs of her coffee into the rosebush and reentered the house. It was time she helped with the breakfast for her family.

‘‘I see Cat has kittens again.’’ Opal set the frothing pail of milk on the table. ‘‘Is the strainer in the springhouse?’’

‘‘She’s trying to convince them a mouse is good for eating.’’

Ruby turned from the stove where she’d been stirring the oatmeal. ‘‘They’re all lying in the sun, nursing now. How long do cats live?’’

‘‘All depends on whether a coyote gets them or not,’’ Rand answered from the doorway. ‘‘Sure smells good in here.’’

‘‘Rand.’’ Opal didn’t like the thought of coyotes going after the kittens.

‘‘Well, coyotes like cats and dogs and any critters smaller than they are that they can catch.’’

‘‘I heard them howling last night. They sounded wild and free and so much like home. Coyotes don’t sing in New York.’’

‘‘No. There’s all that caterwauling of trains and trolleys and drays and carts and horses and people yelling.’’ He shuddered.

‘‘Give me wide open skies and trees any day.’’

‘‘Me too.’’ Opal headed out to the springhouse.

‘‘What do you know about New York?’’

‘‘Same as any big city, all noise and commotion. Not fit for man nor beast.’’

After breakfast, where Opal regaled them all with stories of her trip, she saddled Bay and headed on over to the Robertsons’.

‘‘Opal!’’ Virginia leaped from the porch and ran out to meet her. ‘‘I’m so glad you’re home.’’

‘‘Me too.’’ Opal took her foot out of the stirrup. ‘‘Come on up.’’

Virginia reached for her hand, stuck her left foot in the stirrup, and swung up behind her. ‘‘Thanks.’’

‘‘Sure sorry to hear about your pa.’’

‘‘Yeah. Been bad. Edith couldn’t quit crying yesterday. Good thing we got Mr. Chandler here, or I don’t know what we’d do.’’

Opal fought her own tears as she heard Virginia sniff. ‘‘All the neighbors will help.’’
Especially me, since this is all my fault. If only
I’d . . .
But she knew there was no going back. Like Mrs. Brandon had said, there’s no going back. We can only pray we don’t make the same stupid mistake again. Easier to say than to do.

‘‘Yes, the neighbors have been helping. I told Ma you would teach us girls how to work the cattle. Mr. Chandler isn’t too good on roping and such.’’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘‘Maybe you could teach him too.’’

‘‘Rand said Mr. Chandler started mowing?’’

‘‘Yep. Leastways we should have hay.’’

They rode on down to the barn, where two horses dozed in the corral.

Opal looked out across the meadow to see a team pulling the mower and laying swaths of green grass, straight as you please. ‘‘Got any cattle nearby?’’

‘‘Like for roping?’’

‘‘No, for driving.’’ She stopped Bay at the corral where the two horses came over to visit the newcomer. ‘‘Who else wants to learn?’’

‘‘Joel. He’s seven, almost eight.’’ At the question on Opal’s face, she added, ‘‘He is Mr. Chandler’s boy.’’

‘‘Oh. And Emily?’’

‘‘She’d rather stay in the house, but Ada Mae is all set to learn.’’

‘‘Let’s saddle up those horses, then, and one of you can ride Bay. I’ll bring another horse tomorrow.’’

‘‘Hey, Opal. Ma says to tell you you’re staying for dinner.’’ Ada Mae came running from the house, her braids flopping in the breeze. Behind her trudged a boy, his overalls held up with one suspender, wearing a flat hat.

Opal looked at the two girls. ‘‘You got any boots? And hats?’’

‘‘Sunbonnets.’’

‘‘Better than nothing. Go get them, Ada Mae. And bring boots too, or shoes.’’ She turned back to Virginia. ‘‘How many saddles?’’

‘‘One. Pa’s.’’

‘‘I see. Well, we got our work cut out for us.’’ She turned to the boy leaning against the corral. ‘‘You’re Joel?’’

He nodded.

‘‘I’m Opal Torvald from the next ranch downriver. I hear you want to learn to rope.’’

Another nod.

‘‘Guess you don’t waste too much energy on words, eh?’’

He shrugged.

‘‘Do you know how to bridle a horse?’’

He shook his head.

‘‘You ever been on a horse?’’

A nod this time. He held up one finger.

‘‘Then we will start with the basics as soon as Ada Mae gets back. How about letting down the bars to the corral?’’

He nodded and went over to pull out the bottom one, letting it hit the ground without sliding it farther back.

‘‘Let me show you something.’’ Opal slid the lowest rail back far enough for Bay to walk through easily. ‘‘You do that with all the bars so you or your horse don’t trip. Strange things make a horse panic, so you do your best to keep them calm. Once your horse trusts you and you trust him, your life will be a whole lot easier on the range.’’ She waited while he finished the rails, then walked Bay through.

‘‘Close it up?’’

‘‘Yes, thank you.’’ He could talk. Maybe he was just shy.

‘‘Ada Mae, you want to catch those horses?’’ Opal asked, now that boots and hats were in place.

‘‘I can’t.’’

‘‘They need to be roped?’’

‘‘Uh-huh. They’re broke but not real trained.’’

Opal untied her rope from her saddle and, shaking out a loop, walked toward the two horses hugging the far side of the corral. She waited until one was clear and settled the loop over the animal’s head.

‘‘You made that look mighty easy.’’

‘‘Takes practice, is all.’’ She led the horse back and then, taking a short rope, knotted it around his neck and did a tie knot over the railing. ‘‘You see the way I did that?’’

‘‘What?’’

‘‘The knot. You want to make it so you can pull it loose by jerking on the tail, but if the horse pulls, it tightens down. Virginia, show them how while I catch that other knothead.’’

She loosened another loop and headed back across the corral. The rope whirled through the air, and she led that horse back to tie it up.

‘‘All right, here’s the way we’ll do this. I’ll show you how to bridle Bay and then each of you take a turn while I see how well these two behave.’’

I should have brought over some of our horses,
she thought as she explained the bridle and how to put it on. Bay stood patiently, only her tail swishing as she fended off flies.

By the time they’d each bridled Bay a couple of times, she’d worked the kinks out of the first horse. Then she showed her students how to put on a saddle.

‘‘There’s no way Joel can reach that high, so someone will have to help him.’’

When she approached the second horse, he flattened his ears and pulled back against the tie rope. ‘‘Oh, forget it. I’m not going to let you get away with that, so just behave yourself.’’ But he resisted the bridle, sidled away from the saddle, and spoke his piece with flat ears, mean eyes, and a twitching tail.

Once she had him saddled, she glared back at him. ‘‘You just stay right there and get used to that. I’ll see you later.’’

She turned back to the others and had them each bridle and saddle Bay in turn. ‘‘That’s good. All of you. Joel, you had the most to learn, and you did well.’’

For the first time a smile twitched his mouth before he ducked his head so she couldn’t see it.

‘‘I guess you’ll have to take turns on the two horses. Joel, you ride Bay. I’ll show you how to mount. We can shorten the stirrups on my saddle easier.’’

While Ada Mae, who was tall for her age, mounted easily, Joel couldn’t even get his foot near the stirrup.

‘‘You’ll have to use the fence. Lead Bay over there. She’ll stand for you.’’

With both of them mounted, she explained reining, stopping and starting, and watching for what their horse was saying.

Joel looked at her kind of funny, but she grinned and shrugged. ‘‘You think a horse can’t talk? Watch.’’ She turned and walked toward the tied horse. He immediately laid back his ears and shifted his rear feet. ‘‘What do you think he is saying?’’ Opal paused for a moment. ‘‘Joel?’’

‘‘Go away?’’

‘‘Or?’’

‘‘I don’t like you.’’

‘‘Good. Now pay attention to Bay. She likes riders, but she doesn’t like to have someone jerking on the reins. She has a tender mouth.’’

By the time the triangle rang for dinner, all those in the corral were sweating except for the tethered horse, which had gone to sleep.

‘‘This afternoon we’ll do some rope work.’’ She lifted her flat felt hat and wiped the sweat from her forehead. When she walked into the house, Opal stopped by Mrs. Robertson. ‘‘I am so sorry to hear your sad news. Mr. Robertson was a fine man.’’

‘‘Thank you, dear. Sometimes it is hard to remember that the Lord knows best.’’ She gave Opal a hug.

‘‘I’ll do all I can to help you.’’

‘‘I know. You have no idea how much that means to all of us.’’ She mopped her eyes with the hem of her apron.

Opal glanced up in time to see a shocked look on the face of the man coming in through the back door. He covered it quickly, turning it into a polite smile.

‘‘Oh, Opal, I want you to meet our hand, Jacob Chandler.Mr. Chandler, Miss Torvald.’’

Opal stretched out her hand. ‘‘Glad to meet you.’’ Interesting. He’d almost not shaken her hand. Was he offended by her unladylike attire? Did he think she’d bite?

‘‘Y-yes.’’

‘‘Welcome to Medora.’’
Silly. Women don’t shake hands like that.

Whatever possessed you?

‘‘Thank you.’’

‘‘Ma, I need britches like Opal wears. Riding a horse in a skirt is real uncomfortable.’’ Ada Mae took Opal’s hand. ‘‘You sit here by me.’’

Opal glanced up to catch Edith’s slight arching of the eyebrows.
Ah, so that’s the way it is. Don’t worry, my friend, I have no
interest in your man—if you really think he’s yours—or in any man
.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Finished.
Jacob stopped the team to look out across the mowed field. He stretched his arms, picked up his hat, wiped sweat from both his brow and the hatband, and set it back in place. There should be several tons in what he’d cut, enough to get the Rob-ertsons’ stock through the winter. On the morrow he’d start cutting at the Harrisons’.

BOOK: Opal
3.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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