Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Chapter Five: The Entanglement

Again the cool wind whipped through the cracks between each log. Dorothy blew out the lone candle sitting at the end of the plank table and straightened the chairs. She smiled contently knowing the scarf would be done in time for Norman's birthday. She glanced over at the boys cuddled beneath her mother's patchwork quilt. They all just barely fit beneath it. Even Norman's toes would fit beneath it, if he would just keep them on the bed, she thought. Dorothy giggled quietly and tucked the toes of her eldest boy back under the warm quilt. Before retiring to her own bed, she stopped and looked at all four of them. They reminded her so much of Kay. She sighed. It would be another long, lonely night.

Dorothy slid on to the narrow bed between the door and the boys and slipped beneath her comforter. She then grabbed her worn Bible and began to thumb through it. Tired, but determined to read something, she settled in Acts and began reading the story of a boy who fell asleep in a tree listening to a sermon delivered by Peter. Somehow, she could relate. Peter's sermon soon put her to sleep as well. The wind still whipped.

Dorothy rested comfortably for the good part of an hour before she heard it. A twig snapped! Not the kind of a snap that a raccoon or even a deer makes but heavier. Clumsier. The kind a man makes. She wouldn't normally have paid it even the least attention, but it didn't sound quite right. She heard it again, but it was louder and closer.

With the candle on her nightstand still flickering, Dorothy could see the rifle resting in its cradle just a few feet away. Like a gazelle, she sprang to the rifle, yanked it out of its cradle, and rushed to the front door. She flung it open and tiptoed out on to the porch, her lithe figure silhouetted in the moonlight.

"Who goes there?" she yelled into the stillness. "I've got a gun and I am not afraid to use it."

Again she heard another snap and the noise of someone slithering through the brush a good fifty feet away.

"I'm warning you," Dorothy again yelled, lifting the rifle on to her shoulder.

"Dorothy!" a deep voice boomed from the brush. "Put down the gun!"

"Kay?" she whispered, almost to herself. "Is that you?"

Kay emerged from behind two large pine trees south of the house and, with his arms held high above his head signalling surrender, he warmly replied. "Live and in the flesh."

Dorothy lowered the rifle to her side, fighting the urge to squeal in delight. Like a schoolgirl, she skipped off the low porch and ran into Kay's waiting arms. He laughed and lifted her high into the brisk spring night.

"Good thing I ain't a thief," he said kissing her hard on the lips, "or I might have caught a bullet there."

Comfortably wrapped in Kay's strong arms, Dorothy could smell the familiar odors of the sheep camp. She squinted her eyes coquettishly and then turned up her nose in disdain. "You need a bath real bad," she declared.

Kay kissed her again on the lips and then slapped her playfully on the behind. "Nice to see you too."

* * * *

A bucket shower at 11:30 in the evening wasn't exactly what Kay had in mind when he decided to surprise his wife, but he wasn't the one that would be sharing the bed with a man who smelled of sheep dung either. He showered quickly, however, and rushed to the relative warmth of his bed. With a shiver and a shrug, he tugged the covers up over his head and pulled his sweet wife close. She smelled so good. A wave of emotion washed over him as he stroked the wavy locks of her hair. He had missed her.

"I wasn't really expecting you, honey," Dorothy whispered so she wouldn't wake the children. "Is everything all right at the camp?"

Kay smiled. Her ever-present politeness still enchanted him after so many years. "Yeah, everything's all right. I gotta meet Joe up above Quail Creek tomorrow afternoon to talk about Hoot Peterson, and its just as easy for me to pass by here than go over the Hump."

Dorothy nodded. "Hoot Peterson, huh?" she said, searching for a little more small talk just to help Kay wind down from his trip. "Is Chuck upset that he's left?"

"You haven't heard, then?"

"Heard what? I saw him two days ago down on Hot Springs and he said he was leaving yesterday. He left, didn't he?"

"No," Kay chuckled. "He tried, but his pa went down to Luther Preston's bank and caught him 'fore he could leave town." Kay rolled over on to his back and stared up at the exposed pine planks that formed the underside of his roof. "He ain't never gonna leave, Dor. Not now that he took on that fool bet of his pa's."

Kay glanced over to see a worried expression descend on to Dorothy's face. He always knew she had a soft spot for Hoot. She had said a few times that he reminded her of her father or some such thing.

"What kind of fool bet did he make?" Dorothy asked, drawing herself closer and placing her cold feet just under his.

Kay sighed and again gazed absently at the ceiling. "Oh, Chuck and a lawyer from over in Durango got a wild hair and set up a match race 'tween one of Miguel's mares and a guy. Well, after yesterday, the guy is gonna be Hoot. He done went and agreed to it if you can believe that. Now, he only has to be half as fast as the horse, but he can't win it, Dor. There ain't a snowball's chance of him even making it close."

Dorothy listened but he could tell she was sorely confused. "Why would he agree to something like that?" she asked, her voice rising with incredulity.

"If he wins," Kay explained, "his pa said he could go down the river in the barrel. No questions asked. He'll be free and clear of the ranch altogether."

"And if he loses?" Dorothy interrupted.

"Well, hon, I guess he just stays at the ranch and collects on his inheritance when old Chuck kicks the bucket. It really ain't a bad deal when you think about it."

Dorothy didn't think so at all and her narrowed eyes drove the point home to Kay. "When is the race?" she barked.

"Chuck and Jake met this afternoon over at Lucy's and I think they set it up for Saturday. Why?" Kay was almost afraid of the answer he might recieve. He tenderly traced Dorothy's cheekbone with his pudgy fingers. The gears were turning inside her pretty head. One of the things that had attracted him to her when they were younger was the fiery nature of her temperament. Still, witnessing it first hand could be overwhelming. He braced himself for the anticipated response.

"Eldon...Kay...Jones," she began, measuring each and every word. "You will, and I repeat, will help that boy win the race. Do you understand? I don't care what it takes, but you and Joe are going to make sure that boy finishes before that horse."

Kay turned on to his side and propped up his head. "Is that so?" he asked rhetorically. "And you're employing poor Joe in this little scheme of yours as well?"

Dorothy was dead serious. "Listen, Kay. That boy needs your help, and while I love you more than you'll ever know, you aren't capable of the type of trouble this might require and Joe is, so promise me you'll talk to Joe and come up with a plan to help Hoot."

Kay shook his head and a smile again crept on to his lips. "Do I have any choice in the matter?" he said, kissing his girl on the forehead.

"Not if you want a warm meal in the morning," Dorothy replied.

"Biscuits and gravy?"

"With a little side of bacon, if you're lucky."

"Well, I better be if I'm gonna help Hoot win that race."

Dorothy giggled and returned the kiss with a peck on the forehead. The night had suddenly become a lot less lonely.

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