Wounded (11 page)

The phone rang. Gus answered it. “He’s right here,” he said.

Morgan looked worried.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. I took the phone from Gus. “Hello.”

“Hi, John, it’s me, David.”

I was thrown. It took me a second to realize it was Howard’s David. “David, how are you? Happy holiday.”

“Merry Christmas,” he said. He sounded subdued.

“So, how are things?”

“Okay,” he said. “Well, not so hot.”

“I’m sorry. Problems with your folks?”

“No, nothing like that. John, would you mind if I came out there and worked at your place next semester? I’m going to take some time off.”

I was really caught off guard now. “Hold on for a second,” I said. I slapped my hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s David,” I said to Gus and Morgan. “He wants to come here for the semester.”

Gus made a face.

“Is he okay?” Morgan asked.

I put the phone back to my ear. “David, are you all right?”

“Robert and I broke up,” he said.

“You broke up?” I repeated for the benefit of Morgan and Gus.

“He cheated on me. He slept with one of our friends.”

“That’s awful.” I could hear his pain. “It’s cold as hell out here, but you’re welcome to come out. I do need to build a shed and put up some fencing.”

“I’ll work hard.”

“I know you will, son,” I said.

“I thought I’d fly into Denver and take the bus up to Highland on the 28th. I don’t have it all figured out.”

“Of December?”

“Is that too early? It’s just that I really want to get out of here.”

“No, that’s fine. Just call and tell me when to meet you,” I said. He agreed to that and I hung up. “Is that okay?” I asked Morgan.

“What happened?” she asked.

“That Robert-boyfriend-guy slept with someone else, one of their friends. He sounded awful. Love trouble.”

“Of course it’s all right if he comes here,” she said.

“He can’t talk to his father?” Gus said.

“I think it’s great that he thought he could call you,” Morgan said. “He needs to be able to talk to somebody.”

“I suppose.” I sat at the table, slouched, and stared up at the ceiling. “I guess this is okay. Sure, it will be fine. I should give Howard a call, though, let him know where his kid is going to be. That sound right?”

“Yes,” Morgan said.

The first thing Howard said when he was apprised of the situation was, “Why did he call you and not me?”

“You two have had your problems,” I said.

“But I’m his father.”

“That’s true and maybe that’s what makes it so hard. I don’t know. I just thought I’d let you know he’s going to be here.”

“What exactly happened?”

“I don’t know,” I lied. “He said he needed to take some time off from school and said he wanted to work here on the ranch for a while.”

“He didn’t say why?”

I couldn’t bring myself to lie again or didn’t believe I would do it effectively, so I said, “He’s arriving later this week.”

“You think I’ve pushed him away by disapproving of his lifestyle?” he said.

I didn’t lie this time. “That’s probably true.”

Howard was silent for a few seconds. “Thanks for calling to let me know. You’re a good friend, John.”

“Sure thing.”

Dinner was wonderful, even without the glazed carrots. The moose steaks were sweet and tender, Gus’s dressing was moist and peppery, and the sweet potatoes were covered with little melted marshmallows. Then there were the Brussels sprouts. Gus made up small plates of moose meat for Zoe and the puppy. The dogs finished their treat in a matter of seconds and looked up for more.

“If the horses can have their Christmas meal, then so can the dogs,” he said. Then he sat down and lowered his head.

Morgan glanced to me. It looked like Gus was praying before his meal, but he never did that.

“Gus?” I asked.

He raised his head and looked at us.

“Are you all right?” Morgan asked.

“A little dizzy, queasy all of a sudden,” he said.

“Have some water.” I handed him his water glass.

“Maybe it’s the wine I drank earlier,” he said. “I shouldn’t have had any, but I sneaked a sip.”

“Still dizzy?”

“A little.”

“That’s it, we’re going to the hospital,” I said, pulling my napkin from my lap and putting it on the table.

“No, it’s going away,” he said.

I looked across the table at Morgan. She was terrified.

“Gus,” I started.

But he cut me off. “I’m going to stretch out on the sofa. If I don’t feel better in a few minutes, then you can take me in.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

I helped him up and he walked fairly steadily into the den and to the sofa. I stood there staring down at him, feeling useless.

“You go finish dinner,” he said. “I didn’t toil over that damn stove all day so no one would enjoy it.”

“I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

In the kitchen, Morgan was pacing. I knew that she was reliving that last day with her mother. “We have to take him in,” she said.

“Let’s give him the couple of minutes he asked for,” I said. I wasn’t certain it was the wisest course, but I didn’t want to upset him. “Just a couple minutes.”

We sat down, but we didn’t eat.

Gus came into the room. “I said for you two to eat.” He walked, fairly steadily on his own, to the sink where he poured himself a glass of water. “I’m an old man. These spells happen. I feel better now.”

“You’re sure?” Morgan said.

Gus nodded. “You eat. I’m going to go upstairs and rest.”

“Need help?” I asked.

“Eat!”

“Okay, but tomorrow, we’re going to see the doctor,” I said.

“All right.”

All Gus told me after his visit to the doctor was that there had to be an adjustment in his blood-pressure medication and that he’d have to go down to Laramie for tests in a couple weeks. He’d also been prescribed a few other things, but as usual his dealings with his physician were kept close to him. While we waited at the pharmacy for the drugs, the sheriff walked in.

“Bucky,” I said. I didn’t rise from the green vinyl seat.

“Hey, John. Merry Christmas. How you doing, Gus?”

Gus nodded. The old man had always been cool when it came to the sheriff. I thought at times that it was simply the badge, at others that there was in fact something about Bucky that put him off.

“Did Daniel White Buffalo give you a call?” I asked.

“He did. And I drove out there and I saw it and I don’t know what the hell to do. That’s the skinny.”

“What do you think?”

“What is there to think? I hope they’re passing through. I hope lightning strikes them.” He looked over at the sound of the bell on the door. “All I know is this is going to be my last term.”

“Daniel’s pretty upset,” I said.

“I don’t blame him,” Bucky said. “What about you?”

“What about me?’

“Are you upset?”

“Yeah, I’m upset,” I said. “Don’t you think I should be upset?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

The pharmacist came over, and Gus got up to talk to him.

“How’s Morgan?” Bucky asked.

“She’s okay,” I said. “She’s at her place trying to close it up. We moved her animals to my place a couple weeks ago. I have to tell you, this stuff scares her.”

Bucky nodded. “I’ll have Hanks swing by your place periodically. I’ve got someone doing the same thing at White Buffalo’s.”

“That’s good,” I said.

As we walked back to the truck, I asked Gus why he didn’t like Bucky.

“He gives me the willies,” he said. “Can’t say why. It’s in my gut. I don’t like him.”

“Fair enough.”

Once in the truck and rolling out of town, I asked, “Won’t you tell me what the doctor told you?”

“Same stuff.”

“That might mean something to me if I heard the first stuff,” I said. “What kind of tests are you going to have?”

“The usual crap. A tube here, a tube there. He wants to check out my colon again. He seems to like that.”

“But they did that at the hospital here last time,” I said.

“I think it’s a scheduling thing, I don’t know.”

I didn’t press. Gus was going to the doctor, taking care of things. My knowing wasn’t going to change what he would or wouldn’t do. It was his business and I would let him see to it.

“Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here,” I said.

“I know, John.”

THE BIG SILVER GREYHOUND
from Laramie was on time in spite of the foul weather, mainly because the trip did not involve the interstate freeway. When the highway was being planned in the sixties, the ranchers told the highway folks that the chosen route was a bad one. The ranchers suggested the old road. The completed freeway came to be called the Snow Chi Minh Trail and was closed quite a bit during the winter. The old road became the alternate and always-open route. Twenty minutes after greeting David, I was saying good-bye to Gus as he boarded another bus for Casper. The old man would arrive that evening, check into the Motel 6 next door to the hospital, not eat or drink anything after six, and be ready for his exams the next morning. Gus had refused my driving him, saying one, “I ain’t no baby and I can take care of myself,” and two, “Besides, you’ve got a guest coming into town.” So, David and I waved good-bye to the bus. Gus didn’t really notice and seemed older to me.

David and I wandered down the street toward the restaurant where we had first met. The snow was dirty and a bit more charming because of it. We walked in and were seated at the same table by the same young woman, who took the same interest in David.

“You came back for the good weather, I see,” she said.

“I guess so,” David said.

“How are you, today?” I asked her.

“I’m fine. As long as I’m inside, I’m fine. What would you two gentlemen like to drink?”

“Coffee,” David said.

“Tea for me,” I said. “Earl Grey and some milk with that?”

“Coming up,” she said and walked away.

“How are you, my friend?” I asked.

David shrugged.

“Relationships,” I sighed. “They’re always difficult. Things don’t always go the way we plan. Blah, blah, blah, and all the other inane platitudes that you’ve already heard fifty times.”

David laughed.

“What I meant to say was, doesn’t life suck?”

He laughed again, fell quiet for a few seconds. Then, “I really trusted Robert. I think I’m one of the those people who’s too quick to fall in love.”

I nodded. “Could be. Personally, I thought Robert was an asshole.”

“Really?”

“Big-time,” I said. “And I’m not just saying that because it’s true.”

“He was a little older, sure of himself, cute. I just missed all the signals.” He looked out the window.

“Signals?” I asked.

“They seem obvious now. Going out and not telling me where he was, late-night phone calls, the phone would ring and if I answered no one was there. His own narcissism should have tipped me off.”

“Hindsight,” I said.

“I should never have moved in with him,” David said.

“It’s never a good idea to rush things,” I said.

The waitress delivered our coffee and tea, smiled admiringly at David, took our food orders, and left again.

“Have you talked to your parents?”

“I called my mother and we sort of talked, you know what I mean. What’s there to say?”

“Listen, I need to tell you that I let your father know you were going to be here,” I said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I guess not.”

“I should have talked to you first. I’m sorry.”

“No,” David said, “really, it’s all right. What’s it matter anyway? It’s no secret.”

I poured some milk in my tea. “I don’t mean to sound stupid,” I said. “I just kind of do that naturally, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“When did you realize you were gay?”

“That’s not stupid,” David said, generously.

“My experience is limited and I’m just curious.”

“When I was ten I knew I was different and when I was thirteen I knew I was gay.” David sipped his coffee. “I don’t know how, but I knew it. I kept it to myself until I was out of the house because of the way I’d hear my father talk about fags and queers. He scared me.”

“I can imagine. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” I said.

“I know. So, what’s new with you?”

“I’m getting married.”

David didn’t say anything, but he set his mug down.

“You remember Morgan? Well, she’s the victim. She’s living at the ranch now.”

“That’s great,” he said, though I doubted he meant it.

“Kind of living there. We have her ranch as well. We’re going to put it on the market.”

“What does Morgan do?” David asked.

“She has taught some courses at the community college, literature and composition, but not for a while. For several years she was mostly caring for her mother who just died.”

“That’s great. About your getting married, I mean.”

We stopped by Morgan’s ranch on the way home. She had built a fire, and smoke was coming from the chimney; the place looked postcard pretty in the late afternoon.

“We’ve moved her horses to my place,” I said as I killed the engine. “This is a sweet place. It’s going to be hard for her to let it go.”

Morgan met us at the door. Zoe was standing behind her and behind Zoe was the coyote, well formed, still with three legs and fuzzy. She was redder than I thought she would be.

“Morgan, you remember David,” I said.

“Of course I do,” she said. She gave David a hug, then kissed me.

“The puppy’s really gotten bigger,” David said. He kneeled down and stroked both dogs. The coyote was not nippy, I liked that, and appreciated the attention.

“Gus get off okay?” Morgan asked.

“Yep.”

“What’s the puppy’s name?” David asked.

“Gus named him after my mother,” Morgan said. “Her name is Emily.”

“She’s really strong,” David said.

“So, how’s it going here?” I asked.

“Getting there,” she said. “Mother had a lot of papers.”

“We all do,” I said.

“What do you say we kill the fire and head home?” Zoe came and pushed her nose under my hand. “Have I been ignoring you, girl?” I said to the dog. “I’m sorry.” I rubbed behind her ear. “We’ll all ride together. We’ll come back for your truck tomorrow.”

“I just want to grab a few things,” Morgan said. Then to David, “How was your trip? Was the bus cold?”

“If anything it was too hot,” David said. “The flight into Denver was bumpy. I’m not a fan of flying.”

“Who is?” Morgan asked.

“Get your stuff,” I said. “I’ll kill the fire. David, would you walk outside with the dogs and make sure the pup stays close?”

“Sure.” David left with the dogs.

“How’s he doing?” Morgan asked.

“Fine, I guess.” I put my arms around Morgan. “I missed you.”

“See, I knew you were a big pussycat. You’re not going to change after we get married, are you?”

“Well, I hope being around you will make me better looking,” I said.

“Keep wishing, cowboy.”

Back at my place, I prepared dinner while Morgan and David went out to muck stalls. The temperature was plummeting and I asked them to throw blankets over a couple of the older animals. Morgan came in complaining about my being in the warm house and I told her that cooking was man’s work. David closed the door, took off his jacket, and slapped his arms.

“This is worse than Chicago,” he said.

“Chicago can be pretty cold,” I said. “David, I decided to let you have the bedroom downstairs. It’s down the hall off the den. I’m afraid the room upstairs is full of somebody’s stuff.”

“My stuff,” Morgan said.

“The bathroom is close and you won’t have to share it with Gus.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll check out the bathroom right now.” David left the room.

“He’s very quiet,” Morgan said. “He hardly said two words while we were out there.”

“Really? I guess he’s shy.” I said. “You know you can be pretty intimidating sometimes.”

Morgan snuggled up close to me. “Oh, yeah? You think so, do you?”

“Yes, indeed. Downright overbearing.”

She kissed me. “Little ol’ me?”

“Yep. Now get out of here and let me cook. You make me nervous.”

David returned. “The room looks great.”

“It can be a little chilly in the morning. The wall heater in that bathroom is pretty good, though.”

“Can I help?” he asked.

“You can help by sitting down and having a cup of tea while I do this,” I said. “You, too, madam.”

“I’m going upstairs to do a few things,” Morgan said. “Fifteen minutes?”

“That’s about right.”

When Morgan was gone, David said, “She’s nice.”

“Yeah, she’s something special.”

“So, when is the wedding?”

“The spring, I guess.” I poured olive oil and balsamic vinegar over the salad and gave it a toss.

“I never imagined ranch people eating like you,” he said.

“All city people eat the same?” I asked.

“Okay, okay.” David stood and walked to the window. “Does the mule always just wander around like that?”

“I can’t stop him. Unfortunately, he’s mine now. I call him Pest. He answers to it, so I guess it’s his name.”

“John, I want to thank you for letting me come here.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t know if you’re going to be thanking me tomorrow when we’re riding the fence in ten-degree weather.”

“You should probably know, I’ve never ridden a horse,” David said.

I turned and looked at him. “Never? Not even a pony ride?”

The young man shook his head.

“Well, it will be a ten-degree riding lesson and then a fifteen-degree fence check. I’ll put you on my old App; she’s as safe as it gets.”

“Have you ever fallen off a horse?”

“I’ve been bucked off and launched off, but I’ve never fallen off a horse. You ever fall off a chair?”

“Chairs don’t move,” he said.

“Well, if you can sit on a chair without falling off, you can sit on a horse. You’ll like it.” I heard Morgan coming down the stairs. “David, why don’t you grab some plates out of that cupboard behind you.”

“It’s not ready?” Morgan said.

I gave the salad another toss. “Shadup and sidown,” I said. “But first, grab some silverware.”

She opened the drawer. “Don’t listen to him, David,” she said. “This is not silver. I’m not sure what it is.”

David chuckled.

“He’s not a bad cook, though,” Morgan said. “He’s kind of a keeper.”

The next morning was clear and hard cold. David was bundled up in a down coat and wore a watch cap pulled down over his ears. We finished the feeding, ate some cereal, and saddled the App for his lesson.

In the round pen I told him the basics of reining. “Touch her neck on the left side with the rein and she’ll go right. You don’t have to pull. The horse will go where your belly button points. Point your navel to where you want to go, lay the rein on her neck and you’re off. Now, give her a little kiss sound and a squeeze with your calves.”

He did and the horse walked.

“Go ahead and walk her around the circle.”

David was awkward, but the horse was confident and soon he looked comfortable enough.

“That’s all we’re going to do is walk,” I said.

“What if something scares her?” he asked.

“This old girl is bomb proof. But if a spaceship does land and gets her running, hang on and realize that she’s the least of your worries.”

We rode out the gate and toward the southeast.

“What are we doing again?”

“Duncan Camp wants to park some cattle on BLM adjacent to my place and I want to make sure my fence is good.”

“A range war,” David joked.

“That’s right. No, not really, but I don’t want his cows coming close and messing up things. I don’t much like cows, if you haven’t noticed. Besides, it will be easier for him to find the beasts if they can’t wander across my place and find their way onto the desert.”

We rode the fence and re-stretched barbed wire in places, rolled up discarded wire and made sure the gates were in good shape and closed. The work and the sun warmed us up and soon we were a little sweaty in our coats.

“I’m getting hot,” David said.

“Well, stay hot. Better to be hot in your coat. You take that jacket off and that cold hits your wet body and you’ll be sorry.”

“Got it.”

We stopped on a ridge and looked down at the valley. “This is something, isn’t it?” I said.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I never get used to it.” I looked at him. “I’m glad you’re here, David.”

“Me, too. Thanks.”

We came on one last sagging string of wire. David managed to tangle it around his leg. It ripped through his jeans and sliced his calf. He let out a scream and started hopping around.

“Let me see it,” I said. “You’re going to have to drop your pants.”

“Jesus, that hurts.” He undid his belt and exposed his leg.

I pulled my first aid kid from my saddlebag and began to treat the wound. “This is going to sting a little,” I told him, then put some antiseptic on.

“A little?”

“Okay, a lot.” I looked at the flap of skin. There wasn’t a lot of blood. “You’re not going to bleed to death. Tell me this, cowpoke, do you remember the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

“No.”

“In the past ten years?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Past five years?” I asked.

“No. I’m sure of that. Is that bad?”

I stared at the wound. “It would be real bad if we were in the middle of nowhere,” I said.

David looked around and started to laugh. “I guess everything’s relative. What now?”

“We drive into town and get you poked with a big needle,” I said. “That way you won’t get lockjaw and whooping cough and die before your time, leaving me to explain things to your parents.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it.”

“A big, fat needle.”

“That’s better.”

“Besides, you deserve a better dressing than the one I can give you,” I said. “Mount up.”

We dropped Morgan at her place and she planned to drive back in her car. We didn’t have any wait at the hospital. David got his shot and we left. I decided I wanted to buy some flowers for Morgan, so we stopped in at the only florist shop in town. As we walked out to the Jeep, I saw the BMW parked across the street. The rednecks were just getting out as we were getting in. They shot me a look as we drove away. I don’t think David saw them.

That night Gus called and told me what time his bus would be arriving the next day. He sounded low and I asked him how the tests went and he said he didn’t know, only that they were uncomfortable and he was tired.