Winds of Wyoming (A Kate Neilson Novel) (22 page)

“What about you, Manuel? Do you plan to herd sheep for a livelihood?”

“Good question.” He swung the light back and forth. “It’s a family tradition, but …” He leaned forward. “I think sheepherding is boring.”

“Is there something you’d rather do?”

Mike’s voice, still calling Tramp, sounded far away.

Kate shuddered. What if he found his dog half-eaten? Or encountered a wild animal gnawing on him.
Help him, God
.

“Want more hot chocolate?” Manuel reached for the flask.

“I’ll take that along with some ibuprofen.” She felt for the pill bottle near her leg and handed it to him.

He shook the painkiller into her hand before awkwardly lifting her head and holding the hot chocolate to her mouth, so she could swallow the pills.

Despite his discomfort, she let him care for her. She felt too weak to even grasp a cup. “Thank you, Manuel. You can’t imagine how good that feels going down.”

After twisting the plug and cap back onto the thermos, Manuel set it on the ground next to the lantern. “I don’t want to be a sheepherder. Plus, I need to leave this area. I’m not sure what I’ll do. Maybe hire on at a ranch somewhere else.”

“Why do you need to leave?”

“I have a bad reputation. People avoid me.”

“I don’t understand. You’re a great guy.”

“You mean you haven’t heard?”

“I heard you spent a few months in reform school for killing an antelope.”

He looked down. “Nine months. Got out early on good behavior.”

“Good for you.”

“Doesn’t matter. No one is impressed, except my parents. And Mrs. D. She called me up and hired me back. She didn’t have to do that.”

“She’s a sweet lady.”

“She’s a good boss, too. So was Mr. D.”

“I bet he was.”

Manuel paused for a moment. “Do you think I’m a loser?”

“Why would I think that?”

“Because I had to go to reform school.”

She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again and plunged ahead. “I’m probably more impressed than your parents that you got out early on good behavior. I’ve been there, done that and have to confess my own conduct worsened in reform school.”

Even in the muted light, she could see his eyes widen.

He leaned forward. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No. It’s the truth. I spent eighteen months in a Pennsylvania reform school. And five years in prison.” She sighed, resigned to total confession. “Plus, I’ve been jailed more times than I remember. I’ve got a rap sheet as long as the Constitution. But I know that’s not what will happen to you because—”

A loud bang fractured the quiet night. Kate raised her head. “What …?”

Chapter Seventeen

KATE LOOKED AT MANUEL.
“Was that what I think it was?” She’d heard plenty of gunfire when she hung out on the streets. But that noise echoed between buildings. This was different.

“Sounded like a gunshot to me. Do you think …?”

“Think what?”

“I hate to say it …” He sighed. “But maybe Mike found his dog injured but not dead, so he had to finish the job.”

Kate groaned. “How awful.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She bit her lip, trying not to cry.

Manuel cleared his throat. “Does anyone else at the ranch know you were in prison?”

“No.”

He slumped against a tree trunk. “I wish I could erase what I did.”

Oh, how she knew that feeling. Kate let her head drop back onto the pine needle pillow.

“The truth is, I can barely remember what happened, because I was drunk. The only time in my life I got drunk, and I can’t even remember it.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

“I’d like a chance to tell one person the truth.” He paused. “But it would make you sick.” He tossed a pinecone at a boulder.

“If I told you the things I did, you’d get even sicker.”

“But you don’t seem like, like a … you know ...”

“A felon?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s all behind me.”

“So what changed you?”

“Well, obviously, reform school didn’t help.” She shifted to get more comfortable, which triggered another pain sharp enough to take her breath away. When she could speak again, she said, “Actually, it was an experience I had in prison. I met an inmate who had this peaceful glow about her—”

Manuel sat taller. “What’s that noise?”

Kate listened. Something large was crashing through the underbrush. “Maybe it’s Mike.”

“Maybe, but it sounds really big, like a bear or an elk. I wish I had a gun.”

“I’ve got Mike’s revolver.” She lifted it from under the blankets. “Do you know how to shoot? It’s loaded.”

“My dad taught me how. He keeps guns at his sheep wagon.” He took the gun and stood.

Kate’s teeth began to chatter again. The slightest tension seemed to set her off. When would it all end?

The noise drew nearer. She lifted her head.

Manuel gripped the gun with both hands, legs spread wide. Kate could barely see his outline, but she could tell he was trembling. She prayed he’d be able to do what he needed to do.

Glimmers of light flickered between the trees.

Kate dropped her head back. “Mike ...”

Manuel lowered the gun.

Mike broke through the trees onto the trail, somehow holding his dog, the light and the rifle.

Kate swallowed a sob. He was going to bury Tramp on the ranch.

He carefully placed the dog on the ground. “There you go, boy.”

Her tears fell like rain, wetting her hair. He was talking to his dead dog. She could smell the blood.

Manuel bent over the body. “Where did you find him?”

The sound of a muted whimper made Kate jerk upright. “Did Tramp make that noise?”

“Yeah.” Mike was breathing hard. “He’s alive but in bad shape. I found him down at the creek soaking his wounds.”

She lay back and spoke to the sky. “I’m so sorry I shot your dog.”

“You didn’t shoot him. The wolves tore him up.”

“But I heard—”

“Your shot injured a wolf and scared off several others, by the looks of the tracks. The female I found was alive but down after dragging herself a ways. I killed her to end her misery—and to make sure we have one less wolf in these mountains.”

Manuel stood. “That must have been the gunshot we heard.”

Wolves, plural. Kate could barely speak. “Tramp ... will he …?”

“I hope so.” Mike’s voice sounded weary. He moved close and patted her shoulder. “You and Tramp had quite a night.”

A wave of terror, pain and fatigue surged through Kate, nearing its peak. She could feel herself reaching the limit of her endurance
.
But Chaplain Sam’s favorite Bible verse rode the crest of the wave.
My grace is sufficient for you.

***

The sound of shoes shuffling across a tile floor tugged Kate from a deep sleep. Ramsey and Tramp had led the correctional officers to her. They were coming to take her back to Patterson.

“Kate, honey, wake up.”

She felt someone squeeze her hand.

“You had a bad night, but you’re safe now.”

Kate peered through narrow slits. Mrs. D? In her cell? How did she sneak past the guards?

“You’re in a hospital in Rawlins.”

Kate looked around. The peach-colored room smelled like the prison clinic. “Wha …?” She tried to talk but could only croak.

Laura reached for a cup on the night stand. “Suck on some ice. That will help the dryness.” Using a plastic spoon, she slipped ice chips between Kate’s lips. “Do you remember Honey throwing you?”

Kate closed her eyes, and the long night spooled across the screen of her eyelids. She nodded. Yes, she remembered Honey.

“More ice?”

She opened her mouth.

Laura gave her another spoonful. “They airlifted you to the hospital and took you into surgery right away.”

“Surgery?” Kate sputtered around the ice.

A masculine voice said, “That’s right.”

Kate looked toward the end of the bed, where a tall, gray-haired man in a polo shirt and khaki shorts stood, chart in hand. “I don’t know if you remember me, Ms. Neilson. I’m Dr. Wayne Walker. We met last night, when the Life Flight crew brought you in. I talked with you and gave you some forms to sign.”

She swallowed the ice. “What forms?”

“You signed permission papers before we operated.” He pulled the bed sheet up and pressed her toes. “Can you feel this?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wiggle them for me.”

She stretched her toes, which felt as though she hadn’t moved them in months.

“Good, good. All ten are nice and pink. You had a couple wicked breaks and a touch of hypothermia when you arrived. We had to warm you before we wired you together.”

She frowned. “Wires?”

He smiled. “We used a plate to stabilize the repairs. You should be back to normal in a couple months, although I’d prefer you stay off horses for a while.”

Laura squeezed Kate’s hand again. “That’s good news, isn’t it Kate?”

Kate nodded. A couple months? The summer would be over and the tourist season finished by then. She couldn’t walk, she couldn’t ride a horse, she couldn’t drive. She’d have to leave the ranch. But where would she go?

After the doctor left, she turned to Laura. “Do you think I’ll be in here long? Hospitals are expensive. Plus the surgery and the helicopter. I can’t imagine how I’ll ever pay for it all.”

“Don’t worry about the medical bills. You were riding our horse on our property. The ranch insurance will cover everything.”

***

When Kate awoke later, Clint was standing in the doorway, a huge bouquet of yellow roses in his hands. She smiled and waved him in.

He walked to her bedside. “Hey, lady, I was the one who was supposed to take you around to see the sights, not those crazy Life Flight guys.”

She chuckled. “If it’s any consolation, Clint, I don’t remember a thing about the helicopter ride, including the EMTs.”

He laid the bouquet on the bed and took her hands, looking more serious than usual. “I’m sorry you had such a rough night.”

“I’m just grateful no snakes crawled on me.” She wrinkled her nose and shuddered.

“And it’s a good thing you didn’t land in an ant hill … or a pile of poison ivy … or bear scat, or …”

She laughed. “Please spare me the possibilities.”

He cocked his head. “I hate to say
I told you so
, but if you’d been dancing with me last night, you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed today.” His laugh was harsh.

Not knowing how to respond, Kate said nothing.

He picked up the flowers. “Did you hear about Tramp?”

“Laura was here earlier, but I forgot to ask about him.”

“The vet stitched him up—took more than a hundred stitches—and gave him a big dose of antibiotics. But he didn’t make any promises. He said it’ll be touch and go for a while. Some of us took turns sitting with him today. Even the Curtis twins are helping.”

She snickered. “Poor puppy. He’ll get well just to escape their chatter.”

They heard a knock and turned to see Manuel peeking in the doorway.

“Hi, Manuel.” Kate motioned for him to enter the room. “What a nice surprise.”

Clint brandished the flowers. “I’m headed to the nurses’ station to see if they have a vase.”

He left the room, and Manuel stepped in. “I, uh … brought you something.” The teenager thrust a small package at Kate. “My mom made it for you.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked away.

“I feel so honored that the two of you would think of me.” She lifted the top off the box. Inside, resting on soft padding, she found a bracelet of made of multicolored stones and copper beads. She slipped it onto her wrist.

“Thank you, Manuel. I’ve never owned anything as beautiful as this bracelet.” She blinked back tears. “Please tell your mom I love it and I hope to meet her someday—and that she has a
wonderful
son.”

A huge grin broke across his face.

She couldn’t believe the girls didn’t mob him. He was a sweet kid. Plus, he had a beautiful smile and gorgeous eyes.

He raised his eyebrows. “You really like it?”

“I do. It’s so unique.” She twisted her wrist back and forth to admire the stones. “And very pretty.”

He leaned closer. “Do you remember our talk on the trail last night?”

“I remember how you helped me get through the pain. I was glad to have you there.”

He glanced around. “I just wanted to ask about when you were in, well, you know …”

“You mean about my previous residence?”

He nodded. “I’ve been wondering about the …” He lowered his voice. “The inmate you talked about, the one with the glow. What was up with that?”

“Oh, yes, Nancy. She was a very special lady. I met her after I’d been there almost four years.”

“Can you tell me more now, or should I wait until you feel better?”

“Depends how long it takes Clint to find a vase. I’ll try to talk fast. Or maybe I’ll speak Pig Latin. He won’t have a clue what we’re talking about.”

Manuel smirked and settled into a chair beside her bed.

She punched the button to raise the head of her bed before turning on her side to face him, her back to the door. “One afternoon when I was sitting at a picnic table smoking with a group of women out in the yard, I saw Nancy walking on the track that circled it. I’d watched her for weeks. No matter what was going on around her, she always had a smile on her face, always seemed relaxed. My curiosity got the best of me. I handed my cigarette to another inmate—we never squandered a single gram of tobacco—and hurried to join her.

“As we walked together, I told Nancy I’d noticed her glow and her peaceful demeanor, which I couldn’t understand, because she was surrounded by hundreds of cranky guards and angry, volatile women, most of whom were either in the midst of PMS or menopause.

“She smiled her calm smile and said, ‘It must be Jesus inside of me.’

“I swore and said, ‘Yeah, girlfriend, and Mickey Mouse lives inside me.’”

Manuel laughed.

“But she didn’t get mad. Instead, she said, ‘There’s a Bible verse that says God is love and whoever lives in love, lives in God—and God in him.’”