Chapter 36
“Good
morning,” McCoy said as he closed the screen door behind him. Taking a seat on
the step beside Morgan he asked, “How are you this morning?”
“All
right. And you?” she queried.
“Tired,”
he replied, rubbing his face. “Forget what I said about wanting to wake up with
the chickens. I’ve about had it with that rooster.”
“You
should be getting used to him by now. I’m sure in another day or so you’ll be
able to sleep right through the racket.”
“If he
lives that long. When I looked out the window a few minutes ago, I found myself
picturing him as big plate of fried chicken.”
Morgan
laughed and shook her head. “He’d be too tough to fry. He would probably make
great chicken and dumplings, though.”
“Even
better!” he agreed enthusiastically. Slipping an arm around her he asked, “How
long have you been up?”
“I don’t
know,” she shrugged. “A while I guess.”
“Couldn’t
you sleep?”
She
reached to rub her neck. “I slept all right.”
“I don’t
see how,” he noted, taking her by the shoulders from behind and carefully
turning her so that her back was facing him. “You didn’t look too comfortable
sleeping in that chair. I should’ve carried you back to bed like I started to.”
“So
you’re the one who brought me the blanket,” she observed as he began to massage
her neck and shoulders. “I didn’t remember taking it with me when I got up last
night.”
“You
looked cold. I don’t suppose I have to ask if you had another nightmare.”
Morgan flinched slightly as his fingers touched a sensitive spot. “Sorry. Your
muscles are really tight.”
She
sighed softly as he continued to work the tension from her body. “It will get
better once I go for a run.”
“Why
don’t you take a day off from running? You have to be tired with as little as
you’ve been sleeping.”
“I’m
fine, Jack,” she maintained, a slight hint of annoyance creeping into her
voice. “And if I skip running I’ll sleep even less tonight.”
He was
quiet a moment while his hands kneaded the soft skin above the neckline of her
tee shirt. Finally he suggested gently, “I know there are a lot of disquieting
memories for you here, Calea. That has to be contributing to the nightmares.
Maybe staying in this house was a mistake. Putting a little distance between
you and this place could do some good. It might help to move to a hotel, like
we originally planned.”
“Simon
and Lisa were kind enough to offer us the house. I don’t want to offend them by
leaving.”
“After
the conversation I had with Simon yesterday, I can absolutely guarantee he’d
understand,” McCoy assured her.
“I don’t
want to go to a hotel,” she stated, her annoyance clearly growing. “If I’m
going to decide whether or not to sell this place, this is where I need to be.”
He pulled
her back against him and leaned around so that he could see her face. “I’m not
trying to pick a fight. I’m concerned. You’ve been eating and sleeping less
and running more. I don’t like seeing you tied in knots like this.”
“There’s
no need for your concern,” she insisted, shrugging his hands from her shoulders
and standing up abruptly. “It was just a couple of bad dreams. It isn’t a big
deal.”
“Okay,”
he acquiesced calmly as he looked up at her. “I told you I’m here to do what
you want. If you want to stay, we’ll stay.”
She
regarded him silently for several seconds before replying, “I’m going to go
start breakfast.”
***McCoy watched as Morgan slowed to a walk on
the gravel road, then used the hem of her shirt to wipe her face. When she
neared the house she caught sight of him and changed direction to make her way
toward where he was standing beside the livestock pens.
“That was
a long run,” he commented lightly as she approached. “I was beginning to wonder
if I should come look for you.”
“It’s
such a nice day, I didn’t want to stop,” she acknowledged, wiping the sweat
from her face again. “How’s Molly?”
Turning
back to regard the cow thoughtfully he answered, “I don’t know. I’ve been
watching her for a while now and she keeps lying down and then getting up. It’s
as if she can’t quite get comfortable. I suppose that four little hooves inside
your belly would tend to have that affect, though.”
Morgan
watched silently for a moment, then announced, “She’s having contractions!
That’s why she can’t get comfortable.”
“Really?”
he asked, standing up straighter and scrutinizing the cow. “How can you tell?”
“You can
see her stomach tighten … there – did you see it?”
“I did,”
he nodded. “So she’s going to have her calf soon?”
“Probably
within the next couple of hours. Since this isn’t her first it should go
fairly quickly, barring any complications. You’ll be able to see the front
hooves soon, followed by the nose. Calves are born front feet first, with their
heads tucked down on their legs.”
“So we
may see it happen?” he asked eagerly.
“Maybe,”
she nodded. “Although she would most likely prefer to have some privacy. When a
cow has a calf out in the pasture she normally goes off by herself, away from
the rest of the herd. That way she doesn’t have to worry about getting jostled
or her calf getting accidentally stepped on. Poor Molly doesn’t really have a
choice in the matter.”
“Well,
but she’s safe,” he pointed out. “And so is her calf. That has to be worth
having a couple of human spectators.”
Morgan
gave him an amused smile. “I’m not sure cow logic works quite that way but,
then again, maybe she doesn’t mind at all.” Motioning toward the house she
said, “I’m going to go take a shower. I need a few things from the store for
dinner tonight. You’re welcome to stay and watch her or come with me. Whatever
you prefer.”
“I’ll
drive you,” he decided. “Like you said, Molly might appreciate some privacy.”
***McCoy glanced to his right where Morgan was
leaning her head back against the seat, despondently looking out of the truck
window. She had been even more quiet than usual during their trip to the
grocery store and he was running out of conversation starters.
“We could
just eat something when we get there this evening. We don’t have to cook if
you’re tired,” he suggested.
Turning
to face him she shook her head. “That’s okay. I don’t mind. Besides, about the
only things they serve at a dance hall are hot dogs, nachos, and lots and lots
of beer. Not my idea of a nutritious meal.”
“Mmm…
Sounds like the kind of stuff I lived on in my college days,” he smiled.
“No
doubt,” she agreed, rolling her eyes. “But my stomach has had too many years of
healthy food to take kindly to junk food anymore.”
“Junk
food? How can you classify nachos and hot dogs as junk food, especially when
you add beer? That just about covers all the basic food groups.”
“And what
agency is promoting that food
pyramid?” she demanded. “Junk-a-holics?”
“Hey,
millions of Americans can’t all be wrong,” he argued teasingly.
“You mean
the millions of Americans that are among the most obese people in the world?”
“Well … I
suppose you have a point there,” he acknowledged grudgingly. Giving her a
sideways look, he grinned and then asked, “So what exactly does one wear to a
dance hall? I’m sure cowboy boots are a prime requirement but will hiking boots
do? I mean, I don’t want to get laughed out of the place for the way I’m
dressed.”
“You can
wear whatever you like,” she noted with amusement. “No one will think anything
about it.”
“I
thought about looking for a pair of boots while we were in town a few minutes
ago. I saw a little shop that sells them. Is the boot store a prerequisite for
every
“Pretty
much,” she agreed. “That and a feed store. If the town is really small, they
may be one and the same.”
“And they
probably sell live bait too, right?” he questioned with a smile.
“Of
course,” she nodded matter-of-factly. After a few seconds of silence she
added, “Jack, I know you’re looking forward to the evening, but how
disappointed would you be if we didn’t go tonight?”
He
glanced at her in concern. “Why? Are you not feeling well?”
“Oh, no,
it isn’t that. But I am a little tired. I guess the past few days are kind of
catching up with me.”
He shook
his head solemnly. “I don’t know… being forced to spend an entire evening alone
with you… that’s asking a lot.”
Looking
over, he gave her a teasing grin and was rewarded with a smile in return.
“Very
funny,” she said in mock reprimand.
He chuckled
in satisfaction at her response, then said, “Tell you what, why don’t we turn
around and go back to see if we can find a movie to rent? I’ll make dinner for
us tonight and you can take a nice long bath. Afterwards, we’ll snuggle up on
the couch together and just relax.”
“Are you
sure you won’t mind?”
“Not at
all.”
Morgan
nodded. “I’d like that. And thanks. I know you had your heart set on going.”
He shook
his head again, his eyes twinkling teasingly. “Well, I was looking forward to
telling everyone back home that I had been boot scootin’…”
***“Do you need help putting the rest of the
groceries away?” McCoy asked as he placed a carton of milk in the refrigerator.
“No,
there isn’t much left,” Morgan informed him.
“Then I’m
going to walk out and check on Molly. Want to come along?”
“I’ll be
out in a minute, after I put these last few things away and get some water,”
she promised.
McCoy
hadn’t been gone for more than five minutes when the screen door banged noisily
and he burst into the kitchen where Morgan was filling a water bottle.
“Come
see!” he said excitedly, taking her by the hand to eagerly lead her outside.
When they
neared the pens he pointed. “Look!” The cow was busily licking a small black
calf curled in front of her. “She must’ve had it while we gone.”
“Oh, it’s
so cute!” Morgan exclaimed, ducking between the boards to enter the pen. “Hey,
Molly,” she said softly as she slowly approached the cow. “Your baby is
beautiful!”
Deciding
to enter by way of the gate, McCoy came to stand beside Morgan. “Can you tell
if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Not
until it stands up,” she answered. The cow eyed them suspiciously as they moved
a little closer. “I’m going to get Molly some feed. It’ll let her know we’re
not a threat so she’ll allow us to get closer to her baby. Besides that, she
worked hard this morning. She deserves something extra.”
After she
returned from the barn and had thrown out some hay, the cow began munching
contentedly, keeping a watchful eye on her calf but allowing Morgan and McCoy
to move nearer.
“It’s
trying to get up,” McCoy noted as the calf attempted to stand and the cow gave
it an encouraging nudge with her nose.
“It’s
probably hungry. Being born is hard work, too.” As the calf scrambled to its
feet she announced, “It’s a boy.”
“He isn’t
too steady on his feet,” McCoy observed as the calf wavered while taking a
halting step.
“In a few
hours he’ll be running around the pen,” Morgan assured him.
They
watched as the calf jolted forward until it bumped into its mother, then began
nuzzling underneath her.
“He is
hungry,” McCoy decided when they began hearing loud smacking noises.
“And I’d
say decidedly healthy. I’m going to go call Simon and let him know he has a new
addition to the herd.”
***The Miller family, along with Morgan and
McCoy, were gathered around the pen, watching with amusement the calf’s first
comical attempts to run.
“Looks
like you found your 4-H project, Travis,” his father noted. “He’s big. He’ll
make a great show calf.”
“What are
we going to name him?” Toby asked, holding his hand out through the slats as
the calf neared, trying to coax it to him.
“I don’t
know,” Travis answered, studying the small bundle of energy thoughtfully.
Turning toward Morgan he suggested, “Why don’t you name him, Aunt Calea?”
Toby
nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, you name him.”
“I don’t
know… Don’t you have something in mind already?” she questioned the older boy.
“I
haven’t been able to think of anything yet,” he informed her. “What would you
name him?”
Morgan
regarded the calf silently for a moment, then asked, “How about
“
“Come
here,
Miller
turned and slowly started toward the house, his arm across the shoulders of his
wife. “Thanks for feeding her and keeping an eye on her for us. I appreciate
it.”
“We were
happy to do it,” McCoy acknowledged. “It’s been quite interesting.”
“With the
way Simon worries over those cows, you’d think they were his kids,” his wife
teased.
“I don’t
have nearly as much money invested in the cows,” he replied with a grin. “Are
we all set for tonight? We’re planning to leave at
“About
that…” McCoy began as he glanced at Morgan. “As much as we appreciate the
invitation, I think we’re going to cancel on you. We’re both tired and just not
quite up to it.”
“That’s
all right,” Miller nodded. “We understand.”
“Is there
anything the two of you need?” his wife asked.
“Thank
you, but there’s nothing at all,” Morgan assured her. “We’re doing great,
Lisa.”
“Don’t
forget about horse-back riding tomorrow,” Miller reminded them. “Toby will be
upset if you don’t give the new horse a try.”
“I
wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Morgan assured him. “You know how much I love
horses.”
“Then
we’ll see you up at the main house tomorrow,” Miller agreed. “And if you change
your mind about tonight, you know where to find us.”
***McCoy smoothed Morgan’s hair to the side so
that he could brush his lips against the back of her neck as she laid in front
of him on the sofa. “You know, this is supposed to be relaxing,” he said softly
against her skin, tightening his arms around her. “That was the whole point of
renting a movie and staying in instead of going out, remember?”
“What
makes you think I’m not relaxed?” she questioned, turning her head slightly
toward the sound of his voice.
“Because
I can feel the tension in your body. After that long bath I thought you’d be
ready to fall sound asleep. But you haven’t stopped fidgeting since we laid
down.” Taking on a more teasing note he asked, “Or does being close to me just
have that effect on you?”
“It isn’t
you,” she responded as she lifted his arm and sat up to swing her feet to the
floor. Letting out a sigh, she leaned her elbows on her knees and pressed her
fingers to her temples. “I guess I’m not really in the mood for a movie. I
can’t seem to focus.”
After
pointing the remote control at the screen and stopping the movie, he propped
himself up beside her and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Is there anything I
can do to help?”
She
contemplated quietly for a moment, then turned part-way so that she was facing
him and suggested decisively, “Let’s go for a drive.”
His
eyebrows arched. “A drive? Isn’t it kind of late for that? It’s already dark
out.”
“The moon
is full tonight. We’ll be able to see well enough.”
He scrutinized
her suspiciously. “Why do I get the feeling you have something more specific in mind than just a random drive in the country?”
Morgan
shrugged and stood up. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want. I can go by
myself.”
“Go
where, specifically? Before I commit I’d like to know what I’m getting myself
into.”
Without
replying she walked from the room and returned seconds later with a jacket.
“Are you coming along or not?”
After
studying her thoughtfully for another moment, he got up. “Whatever you have
planned, I think I’d better go along to keep an eye on you.”
***“See that little culvert up ahead? You can
pull over there and stop,” Morgan directed.
After
doing as he was told, McCoy switched off the ignition and looked around. They
had made quite a few turns down the winding country roads during the drive and
he was completely lost. “Where are we?”
Ignoring
his question she advised instead, “Better turn off the lights. We wouldn’t
want the battery to run down.”
“So what
are we going to do now?” he queried as he complied.
“I don’t
know about you but I’m going to go for a walk,” she answered as she opened the
door of the truck and began to get out.
“In the
dark? With the snakes?” he asked warily after grabbing his jacket and following.
“It’s too
cold for snakes to be out tonight,” Morgan replied as she crossed the narrow,
deserted road and walked through the dry ditch toward the fence opposite from
where they had parked.
“Where
are you going?” he called.
“I told
you, for a walk,” she responded, ducking down and stepping through the barbed
wire fence.
He
stopped at the edge of the pavement, eyeing the ditch suspiciously, wondering
how many snakes were lying in wait. “You can’t just take off across someone’s
private property. That’s called trespassing.”
“It’s
only trespassing if we get caught. Are you coming or not?” she queried over her
shoulder as she began walking away.
“No, I’m
not!” he answered adamantly, beginning to become irritated. “I have absolutely
no desire to call my office and tell them the reason I’m not back at work is
because I’m serving time in the local jail for trespassing.”
She
stopped and turned around. “You won’t have to worry about that. If someone sees
us, they’ll most likely shoot us long before they think of calling the
sheriff.”
“An
excellent reason to stay on this side of the fence,” he insisted, annoyed with
her flippant attitude and unreasonable determination.
“Suit
yourself. I’ll be back shortly,” she informed him as she headed off again.
“Calea,
come back here!” he demanded, trying to keep his voice down but still make
himself heard.
Ignoring
him, she continued toward a grove of trees several yards from the fence.
“Calea!”
he hissed again. After waiting a moment to see if she would turn back, he
finally took a couple of small steps toward the ditch, then cleared it with one
long stride. All he could see was Morgan’s retreating form as she neared the
trees.
“Calea!”
he called insistently, growing more annoyed by the second. Pausing briefly, he
contemplated returning to the truck and driving off. It would’ve served her
right. But setting aside the fact that he didn’t have any idea where they were,
something about her determined behavior had made him curious as to what she had
planned. She had said little during the drive, chewing her nails distractedly instead. It was obvious she had something definite in mind though,
and his curiosity finally won out, as he was sure she knew it would.
Taking a
step toward the fence, he hooked his green coat over a post then bent down to
duck between the strands of wire. Morgan had made it look easy, but when he
tried to pass through he was immediately caught by a sharp barb poking itself
through the tough fabric of his jeans, dangerously close to a part of his
anatomy that he held very dear. As he raised up slightly in order to free
himself, two more barbs bit into his back so that no matter which way he tried
to move, he was held fast.
Letting
out a string of curses, he tried his best to free himself to no avail. Craning
his neck up to see where Morgan had gone, he called, “Calea! Dammit! Come back
here!” His back was beginning to ache from bending at such an odd angle and he
was sure he could feel it bleeding. He continued to struggle for another
moment, cursing as he did, until he heard muffled footsteps approaching through
the grass.
“What’s
wrong?” Morgan asked as she neared.
“I’m
caught!”
She immediately
burst into a fit of laughter, doubling over and coming to a complete stop
several feet away.
“It isn’t
funny!”
Her
laughter subsided long enough for her to declare gleefully, “What I wouldn’t
give for a camera right now! Abbie is never going to believe me when I tell her
about this!”
“I’m glad
you find it so amusing. Now will you please help me get loose?” he demanded in
exasperation.
“Hold
still,” she recommended as she approached. While one foot pushed down between
the barbs of the wire under him, she pulled the wire above him up, widening the
opening for him. With her other hand she grasped his and helped him through,
giggling all the while.
“Thanks,”
he retorted sarcastically once he was standing in front of her. “Now let’s leave!”
She shook
her head, grinning at him. “I’m still going for a walk. And now that
you’re on this side of the fence, you may as well come along.”
“This is
a bad idea, Calea. If you want to go for a walk we can do that at your
grandparent’s place. We’re just asking for trouble out here.”
“It’ll be
fine,” she assured him. When he remained resolutely immobile, she reached and
took his hand, her tone softening. “Come on. I want to show you something. We
won’t get caught, trust me.”
Her voice
was so persuasive and her face so sincere in the moonlight, McCoy couldn’t help
but allow himself to be swayed.
“I hope I
live long enough to regret this,” he muttered as he took his jacket from the
post and put it on, then fell into step beside her.
“You won’t
regret it. I promise.”
He pulled
her hand to him and slipped both of theirs into his pocket. “I’m going to hold
you to that.”
They
hiked silently across the grass until they reached the trees. Morgan then led
the way, winding through the thick grove sure-footedly. As they progressed, it
became clear that what was visible from the road was only a small part of what
turned out to be a long patch of dense, gnarled oak trees. With the branches
blocking most of the moonlight the shadows moved eerily with them, reminding
McCoy of one too many horror movies he had watched.
“Are you
sure you know where you’re going?” he finally asked. “This isn’t a place where
I’d like to be lost.”
“I’m
sure,” she replied. “We’ll be through in only a few more minutes.”
True to
her word, within moments they emerged from the trees and McCoy found himself
standing on a slight ridge, overlooking a wide clearing that sloped gently
below them. In the distance there were more trees, and to one side a herd of
cattle rested, standing or lying in the thick grass. The bright moonlight
bathed the whole scene in soft, silvery light.
“It’s
beautiful,” he noted, surveying their surroundings. “Is this what you wanted to
show me?”
Pointing
to the trees on the other side she answered, “No, what I want to show you is
over there.”
“Are you
sure we can make it without someone seeing us? That’s quite a bit of ground to
cover and it’s completely out in the open.”
“I’m
sure,” she told him as she started across.
McCoy
kept a watchful eye on the cattle as they walked, hoping they wouldn’t decide
to investigate the two figures invading their terrain.
“We could
take the opportunity to do some cow tipping while we’re out here,” he suggested
teasingly. “I’ll bet we could sneak up on one those without any trouble at
all.”
She shook
her head in amusement. “Cow tipping is a myth. Do you really think you’d be
able to knock something that weighs two thousand odd pounds over that easily?”
“I don’t
know,” he admitted, giving her a sideways look. “But it might be fun to try.”
“That’s
something someone made up in order to trick city folks and watch them run from
irate cows. Besides, around here cattle raising is serious business. Doing
something that could potentially harm someone’s livestock is a shooting
offense. And no jury in the state would convict on it, either.”
“Is there
anything around here that isn’t a
shooting offense?” he asked dryly.
Morgan
was silent a moment before replying, “Nothing comes to mind off-hand. But if I
think of something, I’ll let you know.”
He
chuckled quietly and then inhaled deeply of the fragrant air. “Everything
smells so clean here, like freshly cut grass. It sure beats the carbon monoxide
fumes we’re used to breathing.”
“That is one
thing I miss about being here,” she conceded wistfully. “And I miss hearing the
coyotes howl. I’m surprised we haven’t heard any tonight since the moon is
full. It might be a little early for them yet.”
“Something else to look forward to,” he noted.
Motioning
to the area ahead of them she added, “In another month or two, this whole
pasture will be carpeted with wildflowers – bluebonnets, Indian paintbrushes,
tiny pink flocks. It will be a rainbow of color.”
McCoy
glanced over at her. “Is this the property you lost in the judgment against
your dad?”
She
nodded and said, “Simon told me the people who sued sold it, right after the judgement, to the couple who
still own it. He said they’ve left it pretty much intact.” With a shrug she
explained, “I just needed to see it for myself again.”
He smiled
and lightly squeezed her hand inside his pocket. “Although I would’ve preferred
to see it in daylight, I’m glad you talked me into coming along.”
As they
neared the trees on the other side of the clearing the ground began a steeper
downwards slope.
“I hear
water,” McCoy noted.
“That’s
the
They had
walked only a short distance and were almost to the trees when they encountered
another barbed wire fence.
“I’m not
overly fond of the fences around here,” he informed her, eyeing it warily. “I
don’t suppose there’s another way through.”
Morgan
grasped the top wire and put her foot on the one below it, creating a wide
opening as she had done earlier. “Not unless you want to hike another couple
of miles and back.”
“Don’t
people around here believe in gates?” he grumbled as he bent down and
cautiously stepped through.
“Yes,
they do,” she agreed as McCoy turned around to hold the wire for her and
instead found that she was already ducking through. “But where there’s a gate,
there’s usually a road, and roads are usually near houses. The whole point
tonight is to avoid civilization.”
Shrugging
his shoulders gingerly he noted, “Well I think my last encounter is probably
going to scar me for life. I think I can still feel it bleeding.”
“I’m sure
it’s nothing more than a scratch,” Morgan countered. Looking first one way,
then the other, she said, “I think we need to go right.”
Winding
through the trees, they followed the fence for a few yards before Morgan began
leading the way toward the sound of the rushing water. After a few minutes
they emerged from the trees on the bank of the wide river, sparkling below them
in the moonlight.
“There it
is!” Morgan exclaimed, pointing to a spot a few feet away. McCoy followed and
watched as she approached a huge log, half buried in the sandy soil. “I wasn’t
sure it had survived. My grandpa first brought me here when I was five. He said
he found this tree when he was eight, after the river flooded one time. There
have been floods since but none have carried this tree away. Because of the
way the river curves here, each flood simply buries it a little more.”
He sat
down beside Morgan on the log. “It must’ve been one hell of a tree before it
fell. I’m surprised it’s in such good shape after all these years.”
“It’s
hard oak. If a flood doesn’t wash it away, it will probably still be here in
another fifty, maybe even hundred years,” she replied, rubbing her hand across
the bark, worn smooth from years of exposure. “My grandpa used to sit on this
tree and tell me the story of how our family came to
Turning
to straddle the wide trunk he suggested, “Why don’t you tell me the story?”
“All
right,” she nodded. “My great-grandparents on my mother’s side came here from
He
contemplated quietly, noting the wistfulness in her voice. “There’s a lot of
personal history for you here. I can understand why you were so upset when you
lost the property.”
“It was
hard to accept,” she agreed sadly. With a deep sigh she said, “If this was
the property I was being asked to sell, the decision would be an easy one for
me to make. I don’t think I would’ve ever willingly parted with this land.”
“But you
don’t have the same feeling for the other property?” he prompted.
Morgan
slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t. It isn’t that I don’t have any feelings
for it, but they aren’t the same. That place never felt like home.”
“And have
you come to any conclusions about selling since we’ve been here?”
With a
shrug she replied, “Not really. In some ways I think I have more doubts now
than when we first arrived.” She sighed again and added, “I know I have to make
up my mind soon but I don’t seem to be any closer to a decision.”
“It’ll come
to you,” he assured her confidently. Glancing around he said, “It’s getting
late. Maybe we should think about heading back now. We have a pretty good hike
ahead of us and I have no doubt that rooster is going to start his infernal
crowing at the crack of dawn again.”
“A few
more minutes?” she pleaded softly. “This may be the last time I’m able to come
here.”
McCoy
smiled and moved to a spot beside her. Putting his arm around her shoulders he
conceded, “Take as long as you want. I can always stuff cotton balls in my ears
to drown out the noise in the morning.”
Morgan
leaned her head against his shoulder and sat quietly staring out at the
moonlight filtering through the trees. The swishing sound of the near-by river
mingled with the soft sigh of a breeze blowing through the leaves. McCoy
inhaled deeply of the cool night air, savoring the fragrance and the feeling of
contentment.
As if on
cue, in the distance a low wail echoed through the trees, quickly joined by
others. Within seconds the howls increased in duration and tenor, until they
were replaced by a whole pack of voices blended together in excited yaps.
Turning
to smile at him Morgan said, “Coyotes – now I know I’m home.”
He shook
his head as she nestled back against him. “Only a girl from
A few
minutes later she stirred beside him and reached up to interlace her fingers
with his where his hand rested on her shoulder. “I know I haven’t been easy to
live with these past few days, Jack,” she confessed. “I want you to know how
much your support and patience has meant to me, though. It’s made this whole
ordeal a lot easier.”
He turned
and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I wouldn’t have missed doing this with you
for anything in the world.”
Taking a
last look around she finally said, “I’m ready to go now if you are.”
“I’m ready.” He stood up and held out his hand for
hers. “Now if we can only make it out of here without getting shot…”
***In the
dream the small calf struggled in vain to free itself from the barbed wire
tangled around it, drops of crimson blood beading up on its coal black hide.
Morgan was crying as she tried to free it, blood dripping from her hands as
well where she was tearing at the wire. McCoy tried over and over to get close
enough to help and to stop Morgan from hurting herself more, but huge spirals
of wire surrounded the two of them, preventing him from getting closer. The
calf’s eyes were wide with fright, but no less so than Morgan’s as she looked
pleadingly up at him. No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn’t get
close enough to do anything to assist the two of them. He was about to open his
mouth to shout for help when the unmistakable sound of a screen door closing
startled him from sleep.
He laid
still for a moment and stared at the ceiling, trying to separate reality from
the dream. He wasn’t sure which the sound that had awakened him belonged to. He
finally reached to wearily rub his face, then sat up and put his feet to the
floor. Deciding there was only one way to find out, he padded quietly from the
room and down the hallway to stop at the door of Morgan’s room. Peering into
the darkened room he found the bed deserted, as he suspected he would.
Continuing through the house, he made his way to the door leading outside. On
the steps outside he could see Morgan rocking back and forth, hugging her
knees, her breath still coming in short quick bursts.
He
quickly opened the door and sat down, half facing her, and wrapped his arms
around her. Morgan buried her face against his chest, clinging tightly to him.
“Shhh,
it’s all right,” he insisted softly, laying his cheek against her hair. “I’m
here now.”
As she
took in huge gulps of air he continued soothing her, talking to her quietly
until she slowly began to relax and her breathing became normal.
When she
finally pulled back slightly to push her hair from her face with a shaky hand,
he said, “You should come and get me when you have a nightmare, Calea. I want
to help.”
She laid
her cheek against his chest again and sighed unevenly. “Just knowing you’re
here helps.”
As he
rested his chin on the top of her head he assured her, “Don’t worry. I’m not
going anywhere.”