The Price (43 page)

“You’re back,” Mariah spoke, and Kate watched the white cloud drain from the old woman’s eyes and returned to their normal dark brown.

“Yes,” said Kate, feeling the weight of the world return and she laid her head on the old woman’s lap to rest.

“You know what you must do,” Mariah declared.

“Yes.” Kate closed her eyes and saw the faint image of Black Thunder in her mind.

“You must stay with him for seven days,” the old woman instructed. “No more, no less!”

“I understand,” she whispered.

Jack interrupted, breaking the moment’s sacredness.

“Would somebody please enlighten me?” he questioned in less-than an irritated tone. “
Who
is she going to see and why is she going for seven days?”

“Seven is the sacred number for healing,
white man
,” the old woman remarked, displaying her own irritation at his abrupt interruption before returning her attention back to her pupil. “You must embark upon your journey before the wheel turns and the door closes.”

“Kate’s too sick to be going anywhere much less a journey for seven days,” objected Jack. He was kicking himself now for thinking in his desperation that this old woman could offer any help. He wasn’t about to let Kate travel especially in the condition she was in.

“Jack.” Kate lifted her head from Mariah’s lap. “Help me up and I will explain everything to you.”

Jack knelt and lifted her up into his arms.

“If you think I’m letting you do this alone, you have another thing coming to you,” he said, carrying her to the couch and laying her against the leather material.

“No, I can’t do this alone.” She moved over and patted the couch, beckoning for him to sit beside her. “You’re going to take me.”

“Take you where?” asked Jack.

“I want you to take me to Black Thunder.”

“Black Thunder? You’re kidding, right?”

Jack thought it was the most absurd thing he ever heard. He glared at Kate and his temper flared.

“You’re in no condition to be going anywhere, much less travel three hundred miles to see a blasted horse? No, Kate
I won’t do it
!”

“Then she will
die!
” said Mariah, rising from her chair.

Her statement rattled him to the core.

“Lucas, our work is done here,” stated Mariah. “It is time to take me home.”

Luke assembled all her tools and placed them back in the deer-skin pouch. He saw the anger in his employer’s eyes. It was always hard for the white man to understand their ways. It made no sense to the common mind, but with spirit, nothing was ever as it appeared.

“Do not dispel what my grandmother speaks,” Luke said to Jack. “You have tried your way and it has failed. Perhaps, if you heed to Great Spirit, you will find your answer, my friend.”

Luke patted his employer’s back before taking his grandmother’s arm and escorted her from the room. Jack heard the front door close and he looked at Kate.

“So what exactly is this
Great Spirit
saying to you?” Jack asked as he tried to wrap his mind around this impossible task.

“All I know is that I have to see Black Thunder.”

“Is he going to heal you?” He rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the question.

Of course a horse couldn’t
heal
, but when he looked into Kate’s eyes, he knew she believed it was possible. How could he say
no
even though the outcome could possibly shorten her life more than it already was?

“Jack, will you take me?” Kate pleaded.

“I can’t believe what I’m about to say,” said Jack as he went to run his fingers through his hair and realized it was gone. He had shaved it off for Kate and now he was going to travel three hundred miles for her, too. “When do we leave?”

“Thank you,” said Kate as tears filled her eyes. “I’d like to leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, huh?” Jack shook his head. “Well if you want us to leave tomorrow, I’ve got a lot to do. I need to talk to Maria and see if she’ll take care of Jesse. Then I need to pack and figure out where the hell we’re going to stay. There’s nothing around there for miles, or have you forgotten?”

“We could borrow Clara and Adam’s camper.”

Kate batted her now scarce lashes as Jack stared at her in disbelief.

“You want to live in a camper for seven days?” He shook his head again. “My wife who has been puking her brains out and can barely get to the toilet in time wants to stay in a trailer? I must be insane to have agreed to this.”

“I have the root Mariah gave me,” she added. “Maybe it will settle my stomach.”

“For all we know that thing could be peyote,” he frowned. “I’m going to have a wife tripping and puking her brains out all at the same time.”

“Have faith, Jack.” She took his hand and squeezed.

“It’s not faith we need, baby. What we need is a fucking miracle!”

“Maybe we’ll get it.”

“Maybe,” he said seeing the hopeful look in her eyes.

There wasn’t anything in the world he wouldn’t do for her, including dragging her three hundred miles to say goodbye to a horse. Kate had made up her mind, and he had no choice but to comply. He couldn’t stop her even if he tried because when Kate McBride got something in her head, there wasn’t anything or anyone to make her change it. They were going and that was that, whether he liked it or not.

THIRTY-TWO

BLACK THUNDER

Traveling down the road, Jack checked the rear-view mirror to make certain the camper he was towing behind the truck was still intact. It was one thing to tow a horse trailer, but this RV thing, that looked like it was ready to fall apart at any minute, was a different story. He hated living in trailers. He thanked the rodeo for that. Being on the road in the rodeo always meant he slept in make-shift accommodations, and he lived out of a rickety one for almost six years. The thought of living in one for four days was not on the top of his to -do list.

They’d been on the road for several hours, and he could tell it was not easy on Kate though she didn’t complain. She was sleeping now, with her head resting on his thigh. With one hand on the wheel and the other resting on Kate’s arm, he drove along Highway Fifty as the same scenery of desert terrain surrounded him.
It is the loneliest road in America
, thought Jack, seeing a bunch of nothing but sagebrush and gray winter skies. A light dusting of snow lay on the ground, and he wondered if they would get more before the day was through.

Jack heard Kate mumbling and he rubbed her arm to quiet her down. She was dreaming again, calling out that blasted horse’s name. Jack kept driving, listening to her ramblings that didn’t make much sense. Nothing anymore made sense as far as Jack was concerned. His world had been turned upside down, and this time he hated it. He hated that he had no control over the hand that fate dealt him. He hated that Kate was sick and that she was dying. He hated that he would have to raise his son alone. But the thing he hated most of all was the fact that he felt responsible. If he had taken better care of her, none of this would’ve happened.

Kate stirred again and bolted upright in the seat.

“Pull over, Jack,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m going to be sick!”

“All right, I’m pulling over.”

The truck barely came to a stop before Kate’s door flew open, she jumped out and started to throw up. Jack raced from the truck and stood beside her, flinging his arm about her waist to support her in case she hadn’t the strength to stand.

Once more, her episode was violent and by the time she was done, her body was trembling something fierce and her legs buckled beneath her.

“I thought the root was working.” She began to cry as Jack carried her back to the truck and sat her on the vinyl seat.

“Maybe you just need to give it more time,” he said, though he doubted it would work at all. “Under the circumstances, I’d understand if you want me to turn this thing around and we just go home.”

“No.” She shook her head, staring up at him as he clung to the open truck door . “I can do this.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his concern growing.

“Yes,” she said weakly.

“How is your stomach now?” he asked, not wanting to get back on the road if she was going to have another episode. They always came in threes and this was number two.

“I’m feeling better. I think I’m done for a while.”

“You sure?” He watched her give him a slight nod. “Next time just use the trash bag on the floor if it hits you before I can stop.”

“I got rid of it when we stopped for gas,” she said. “It smelled nasty.”

“I’ve got some more in the bed of the truck. I’ll bring one up.”

Jack retrieved another bag from the back of his truck then handed it to her. As an afterthought, he gave her a bottle of water. Kate took a drink, and swished it in her mouth before spitting it out on the ground right by Jack’s boot. He handed her a paper towel and she wiped her mouth.

“Thanks.” She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes.

Jack shut the door and walked around the front of the truck then climbed in to the driver’s side.

“Lie down on me again, baby, and rest.”

Kate lay back down and Jack covered her with the fleece throw, then started the truck and pulled back on-to the road.

“Looks like we might get some more snow,” said Jack as they traveled along Highway Fifty toward their destination. “I sure would like to get there before the sun goes down. I need to hook up the generator and get the plumbing working in the camper.”

“I wish I could help.”

“Nah, you just need to rest and let me handle the big stuff.” He smiled at her though she couldn’t see him. “That’s what rugged, Nevada men do. We take care of our women.”

Kate lightly squeezed his thigh.

“Hey, now don’t be getting me all distracted now,” he laughed. “Or I might be tempted to pull off the road and park us right here for the night.”

Kate smiled and arched her neck to look at him.

“I love you, Jack,” she said, staring up at his handsome face.

“I love you too, baby,” he said, glancing down at the memory of her pretty blues.

Kate placed her head back on his lap and Jack continued to drive. Two hours later, they arrived at their point of destination. Kate stared out the windshield and gazed at the dried up lake bed remembering the last time they visited here. It was to release Black Thunder into the wild.

“You stay put, yah hear?” said Jack as he jumped from the truck.

He unhooked the camper and went to work setting it up. Within no time, he had running water and electric for lights. Jack turned on the furnace and while waiting for it to heat up, he made the bed, using their blankets and pillows from home. It was finally ready for Kate.

Jack walked back to the truck and helped Kate to the camper. He laid her on the bed and tucked the blankets around her tightly.

“I’ll start dinner,” said Jack, knowing Kate was not hungry and probably not going to eat much.

But it was a routine that kept him busy instead of being idle and worrying about his wife. He made soup for her and a sandwich for him. He sat on the bed and ate while he watched her sip the weak broth. After, he brewed a cup of chamomile tea for Kate that seemed to help her stomach.

“You warm enough?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said, though she was chilled to the bone.

Her hot flashes were replaced with always being cold. It was probably because she had no meat on her bones to keep her warm.

“So, I guess tomorrow is Day One,” said Jack. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

She wished she could tell Jack something, but Kate had no idea what tomorrow would hold. It was blind faith that led her to the place they released Black Thunder.

Kate yawned and Jack recognized the sign—she was ready for bed. He climbed in beside her and turned off the overhead light above them. He snuggled her close for added warmth and soon they were both asleep.

Morning came with the dawn of light. Kate awoke to the smell of fresh coffee brewing and the sound of bacon sizzling in the pan. She crawled from bed, wrapping the blanket around her and walked from the bedroom to the kitchen in three steps.

“Morning,” she said as she stood next to Jack while he cooked breakfast.

“Morning, baby.” He leaned over and kissed her. “Why don’t you take a seat at the table and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.”

Kate took two more steps in the cramped quarters and slid in the seat, leaning her back against the camper wall. Jack brought her a cup of coffee and set it on the table. Kate looked into the mug and frowned. She hated black coffee. She preferred it with cream—and lots of it—but now dairy made her sick. She lifted the mug to her lips, feeling its warmth around her hands. She took a sip as the heated liquid warmed her throat and chest. She would have liked to say it was good but it wasn’t. Nothing she drank or ate tasted good anymore.

Jack served breakfast and slid into the fabric booth across from her.

“You think you could handle eggs today?” he asked, and slid the plate of plain scrambled eggs toward her.

“I’ll try,” she said, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to eat them. She moved them around her plate with her fork.

It was becoming a routine with them—Jack making food and Kate moving it from left to right on her plate to appease him. In the end, the smell alone would make her sick and they would spend the better part of the morning with Kate hovering over the toilet with Jack assisting.

After breakfast and Kate’s latest episode, Jack helped her outside. Perhaps the cool air would refresh her. He bundled her up in a thermal shirt and thick flannel jacket then carried her outside. He set her in the lounge chair by the camper door then covered her with a blanket, tucking it around her legs.

“How about I start a fire?” he suggested.

Kate nodded and Jack went to work. He needed to keep busy. For if he stood still he would certainly go crazy. His mind was already beginning to whirl, worrying about Kate, seeing her shivering under the coated blanket.

He made a circle out of rock and grabbed the chopped wood he brought along in the back of his truck. It didn’t take long and soon a small blaze was burning. The fire crackled and filled the air with black smoke. Like a smoke signal, it drifted upward toward the Nevada sky.