Seventeen-year-old Louisa sat on the back steps of her house, watching her older brother Marco and his friends play baseball. She looked up and smiled as her father, Armando, sat down beside her.
“You're not playing, querida ?” said the Latino man, sliding an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze.
“No, Papi ,” answered the girl. “It's too hot. Besides, it wouldn't be proper for me to play without my shirt, like they're doing,” she giggled.
Armando laughed softly. “I should think not, young lady. What's this?” he asked, tapping the small notebook Louisa was holding in her hands.
“Just my journal. I started it when I was eight.” She sighed and leaned against her father's side. “Keeping a journal was my way of dealing with things that upset me. Would you like to read it?” she asked shyly.
“Only if you want me too, sweetheart,” replied her father, gently stroking her hair.
“I do, Papi , but there are some things in it that might upset you,” said Louisa softly. “I know I don't talk about my childhood much, but reading this might help you understand what it was really like.”
Armando took the book and flipped it open. He read silently for several minutes, tears welling up in his dark eyes as he read each entry. He was so deeply involved that he never noticed when Louisa stood up and went into the house.
Their baseball game called on account of heat, Marco and his friends wandered over. “What's that, Papa?” asked the boy.
Armando looked up, startled. He quickly recovered, clapping the journal shut with a snap. “Your sister's journal,” he answered, avoiding his son's eyes. “She wanted me to read it.”
“Where is Louisa?” Marco asked. “She was just here a few minutes ago.”
“She must have gone inside while I was reading.” He lifted the book, showing it to his son. “Has she let you read any of this, Marco?”
The boy shook his head. “No, every time I come near it, Lou snatches it away and locks it in her desk drawer. Papa, what's in that book? You look like you've seen a ghost,” he asked with concern.
“Details from my childhood, Marco,” replied Louisa, stepping through the back door. “You can read it, too, if you like.”
Marco took the volume from his father, glancing sideways at his friends. “Uh, we gotta go; see you later.” The boys walked off, whispering to each other.
The boy sat on the step and opened the journal. After reading an entry from Louisa's tenth year, he closed it and handed it back to his sister. “I had no idea things were so rough for you, little sister,” he whispered, tears in his gimlet eyes.
“You don't know the half of it,” said Louisa, her voice faint. “If one of my teachers hadn't noticed all the bruises I had, I might still be in that foster home. I was more of a servant than a daughter.”
“Where are those people now?” Armando wanted to know.
“Last I heard, Child Protective Services filed abuse charges against them and sent them to prison,” said Louisa. “Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say.”
“There you all are,” called Maria as she walked around the corner of the house. “Come along now; dinner's almost ready.” She paused, seeing their odd expressions. “What's going on?”
Armando stood up. “Nothing, dear. Louisa was just sharing her journal with us.”
“Oh; now I understand why you all look so somber,” commented the Latino woman. She reached out and caressed Louisa's cheek with her soft hand. “What happened then is in the past, querida . I know it's difficult, but try to put it behind you.”
The girl smiled. “I have, Mami ,” she whispered. “I was just reading my old journal to remind myself how much my life had changed, that's all.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Present Day
“Do you still have that journal, Mama?” asked Matthew.
“No, sweetheart. I burned it not long after I moved to Montana ,” replied his mother. “I learned a long time ago that dredging up painful memories doesn't do anyone any good. What matters most is what's happening now.”
“What was your childhood like, honey?” asked Hank.
Louisa looked down at her hands, considering exactly what to tell him. After a few minutes, she met his eyes. “I wouldn't wish my childhood on my worst enemy, let's put it that way. I swore that if I ever married and had children of my own, I would never treat them that way I had been treated.” She blinked, sending tears sliding down her cheeks.
Marco leaned over and patted his sister's arm. “You're a great mother, Louie,” he said softly. “I can't even imagine you hurting your children, no matter what the circumstances might be.”
“Yeah, Mama,” put in Robert. “You don't even get mad that much.”
Louisa burst out laughing. “Believe me, boy-chick, I do get mad, but I never let you see it. Just ask your father.” She winked at Hank playfully. “He knows me well enough to know just how far I can be pushed before I lose my temper.”
“You got that right,” agreed Hank with a grin. “I can always tell when your Mother has had enough.”
“How, Daddy?” asked Hannah.
“She calls me ‘Henry',” chuckled Hank. “When I hear that , I know a major explosion isn't far behind.”
The room erupted in warm laughter. “Don't forget that certain look she gives people, Cap,” snorted Chet Kelly. “I swear it could freeze an erupting volcano.”
“You mean, this look, Chester ?” said Louisa, spearing the Irishman with her coldest stare.
“That's the one!” agreed Chet. “I've been on the receiving end more times that I can count.”
“It can't be too often, considering you can only count to ten without getting confused, Kelly,” needled Johnny. “Grandfather used to call it Lou's ‘snake-eyed' look.”
“It certainly fits,” groused Kelly. “Too bad I never noticed it until it was too late.”
“Like the time you put a dead rat in my glove compartment, Chet?” grinned Louisa, referring to a long-ago Phantom prank.
“Yeah, and you paid me back in spades for that . Remember?” asked the Irishman.
“How did you do that, Mom?” asked Emma, her eyes shining.
“I tricked Chester here into thinking I was a vampire, but I'll tell you the whole story another time,” chuckled Louisa. “Like I said before, a lot of things changed after Papi died.” She stopped, shaking her head sadly. “ Mami and I said a lot of things to each other that we regretted later on. Instead of comforting each other, we fought all the time.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“ Papi , are you sure you feel all right?” Louisa asked her father, noticing the man's odd expression and pale face.
“I'm fine, querida ,” assured Armando. “I'm just a little tired to day. I'm sure it's nothing.”
“Okay, if you say so,” returned the girl uncertainly. “Why don't you go and lie down for a while? I'll call you when dinner is ready.”
The Latino man smiled and sat down in his favorite recliner. “Go on, sweetheart. Finish what you were doing. I'll be okay right here.”
Louisa turned and went back into the kitchen. She peeked around the door from time to time, watching her father as he rested. Her instincts were telling her that something about his demeanor wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Half an hour later, Marco and Consuela came into the house, drawn by the smell of cooking food. “Smells good, Louie,” joked the boy. “Guess it hasn't reached the burning stage yet.”
“Very funny,” grumbled Louisa. “Why don't you make yourself useful and set the table? ‘Suela, can you go wake up Papi ?”
Consuela nodded and went into the small living room. Seconds later, she came running back, her face white and scared. “Something's wrong!” she screamed. “He won't wake up!”
Louisa dropped the spoon she was holding and followed her sister at a dead run. When she reached her father's side, she was painfully aware that he wasn't breathing. She bent down and laid her fingers on his neck, checking for a pulse. “Oh my God!” she whispered. “Marco, call an ambulance! ‘Suela, help me get him on the floor!”
The two girls struggled to pull their father out of his chair. Louisa knelt by the man's side, frantically recalling the CPR she had learned in health class the year before. As she started the chest compressions, she pleaded with her father to wake up.
“They're on the way,” panted Marco, dropping to the floor beside his sister. “What the Hell happened?”
“I don't know, Marco,” gasped Louisa. “I knew Papi wasn't feeling well. Why didn't I pay more attention?!?”
Outside the Lopez home, the ambulance screeched to a halt and the attendants jumped out. A paramedic squad followed. Quickly grabbing their gear, the paramedics walked into the house and quickly took in the situation.
“How long has he been like this?” asked one of the medics, taking over for Louisa.
“I don't know,” panted the girl. “He said he was tired and sat down in that chair to rest. That was about forty-five minutes ago. My sister went out to tell him dinner was ready and found him not breathing.”
Just then, Maria entered the house, adding to the confusion. Louisa jumped to her feet and ran to her mother, burying her face in the woman's shoulder. “It's my fault, Mami ,” she sobbed. “I knew he was sick, but I didn't pay close enough attention.”
“All right, he's got a pulse,” shouted one of the paramedics. “Let's get him on the gurney and get out of here.” His partner stood up, suddenly noticing the family standing their watching in horror.
“We'll be taking him to Harbor General, ma'am,” he said to Maria. “You can follow us to the hospital.”
“All right,” she stammered. “Marco, will you drive, please? Will my husband be okay?” she whispered to the medic.
“The doctors will do everything they can. ma'am,” he smiled.
Louisa stood frozen, watching as her father was placed on a gurney and wheeled out the door. She didn't move until her mother tugged on her arm. “It's my fault,” she whispered over and over. “If he dies, it's my fault.”
Harbor General
The Lopez family gathered in the waiting room, anxiously awaiting news on Armando's condition. Maria held her rosary beads, her voice soft as she prayed. Marco and Consuela paced nervously as Louisa sat quietly, staring at the floor between her feet. She looked up when their priest, Father Herrera, came into the room.
“Any word yet?” asked the priest gently.
Marco shook his head. “No, the nurse told us she would let us know what's going on, but that was over an hour ago.”
Overhead, a loudspeaker crackled to life. “Dr. Alex Martinez, treatment room 4. Dr. Martinez, treatment room 4, stat.”
Maria paled. “That's where they took my Armando,” she moaned, swaying in her seat.
“That doesn't mean something bad happened, Maria,” said Father Herrera.
“Then, what does it mean?” spat Consuela. “Why are they calling for another doctor?!?”
No one could answer her question. The group lapsed into morose silent, continuing their vigil. After another hour, Dr. Michael Cohen entered the room. “Mrs. Lopez?” he asked.
“I'm Mrs. Lopez. How's my husband?” she questioned anxiously.
Cohen ran a hand through his thick red hair. “I'm very sorry, ma'am,” he answered sadly. “We did everything we could, but I'm afraid your husband died a few minutes ago.”
Maria's eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped to the floor. Marco and Consuela ran to their mother's side, helping her sit up. She blinked groggily, then climbed to her feet. Louisa stared at the doctor, not wanting to believe.
“You're lying !” she screamed angrily. “ Papi can't be gone! It's not true!” She launched herself at the doctor, pounding his chest with her fists.
Father Herrera stepped forward and dragged the distraught girl into his arms. “Hush, Louisa,” he soothed. “I'm sure Dr. Cohen did everything he could.”
The girl wrenched away. “Then why is my father dead?” she demanded.
“I don't know, sweetheart. Maybe God needed Armando in Heaven. Just his body is gone; his spirit is still alive.”
“I don't want his spirit ! I want him !” whimpered the girl. She swiped a hand across her cheek and turned to the doctor. “I want to see him, right now ,” she demanded through clenched teeth. “I won't believe he's gone until I see it for myself.”
“We'll all go, querida ,” Maria said quietly. She laid a hand on her youngest daughter's shoulder. “Your Papi was sick, honey. He had a problem with his heart, but he didn't want you kids to know.”
Marco's face darkened angrily. “We're not children anymore, Mama. If Papa was sick, we should have been told.”
“I know, mijo , but he didn't want you think that he was weak,” answered Maria, stroking her son's cheek “Come; I want to see your Papi before we leave.”
The Latino woman took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Nodding to Dr. Cohen, she lead her children into the treatment room where their father's early remains lay.
Three Months Later
“Marco, where're your sisters?” asked Maria.
“Consuela is out in the yard, Mama, but I have no idea where Louisa is,” answered Marco.
“I'm right here,” said Louisa, standing in the doorway. Her face was pale and drawn, with dark shadows ringing her eyes. A cigarette dangled impudently from her lips, sending up a thin runner of smoke.
“I've told you time and time again not to smoke in this house, young lady,” replied Maria sternly. “Either put it out, or take it outside.”
The girl rolled her eyes and stubbed out her cigarette in a near-by ashtray. “Is that better, Mami ?” she asked sarcastically.
“Lose the attitude, little sister,” growled Marco darkly.
Louisa folded her arms and glared at her brother. “Whatever,” she muttered. “Did you need me for something, Mami ?” she asked levelly.
“Yes, I did,” answered Maria. “Your Tía Carmen and your cousin Antonio will be here soon. Please help me clean this place up a little.” She paused, her face softening. “I know losing your Papi has been hard on you, querida , but I won't tolerate any more of your snotty attitude. Do I make myself clear?”
Louisa bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. “I'm sorry, Mami ,” she replied contritely. “I won't make any more trouble, I promise.”
“Good. You can start by picking up those magazines you left scattered across the coffee table. Then, could you vacuum the living room for me?”
“Yes, ma'am,” answered the girl. She gathered the periodicals into a neat stack and dropped them into the stand next to the sofa.
Three hours later, Louisa sat with her cousin Antonio on the back steps, listening in fascination as he told her about recent changes that occurred up at the ranch since the last time she had been there.
“We raise mostly horses, as you may recall, but we also have added a few head of beef cattle, some pigs, and a flock of chickens,” the man was saying. “We even have another real live Indian working there with us!”
The girl grinned widely. “Really? What tribe is he from? And what's his name?” she asked excitedly.
“He's Lakota, just like Gray Eagle, and his name is Red Elk. He's been with the Rileys as long as anyone can remember,” answered her cousin, referring to the owners of a ranch close to the Johnsons'. “He told me that he has a relative living here in the Valley somewhere, but I can't recall the guy's name.”
“Does he dress in buckskins, too, ‘Tonio?” asked Louisa.
Antonio laughed. “Sometimes, little Lou, but most of the time he wears jeans like everyone else. Red Elk is the one who taught me how to trick ride a few months ago.” He paused to take a drink of his soda. “And the land! The sky is so vast, it makes you feel like an ant sometimes. The ranch is so big, it would take days to see it all.”
Louisa sighed dreamily. “It sounds wonderful, ‘Tonio. When we visited that summer, Mami wouldn't let me out of her sight, so I didn't really get to see much other than that time we went riding with Gray Eagle,” she complained. “I guess she didn't think a ranch was the proper place for an ‘impressionable young lady', as she put it. She still watches over me like a hawk. It's so annoying sometimes!”
Her cousin chuckled and threw a muscled arm around her shoulders. “That's because she loves you, Lou,” he grinned. “But don't worry too much. You'll be eighteen soon. After that, you can make your own decisions.”
“Don't bet on it,” replied the young woman. “Now that Papi is gone, I'm lucky I can even go out without getting the third degree.” She looked down at her hands, biting her lip thoughtfully. “Say, ‘Tonio? The Johnsons aren't looking for more help by any chance, are they? I know I'm not that big, but I'm strong and I'm sure I could be of some use to them.”
“Well, Dorothy did mention that she wished there was another woman on the place, so she could have someone to talk to besides a bunch of rough old cowboys,” answered the man. “If I remember correctly, you two got along pretty well, too. But I'm not sure Tía Maria would be very happy about you moving to Montana .”
Louisa's eyes narrowed. “Like you said, I'll be eighteen soon. That's old enough to make my own choices. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to try. Even if I fail, at least I can say that I made an effort.”
“An effort to do what?” interrupted Marco, coming outside.
“Nothing, Marco. Mind your own business,” said Louisa, throwing her cousin a warning look.
Her brother dropped down on the grass in front of them. “I know that look, Louie. You're planning something. Now, be a good girl and tell me what it is,” he said teasingly.
“Must you know everything I do?” asked the young woman crossly. “I told you, it's none of your business, so drop it!”
Marco frowned. “Okay, okay. You don't have to bite my head off. Mama sent me out here to tell you two supper is ready.” He got up and went back into the house, muttering under his breath.
“Not a word of this to anyone, Antonio,” cautioned Louisa. “If Mami founds out before I'm ready to tell her, she'll go ballistic and try to talk me out of it.”
Her cousin grinned wickedly. “I doubt anyone could do that, not if you've set your mind to it. I know all too well just how stubborn you can be.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Present Day
“Unfortunately, Mama did find out,” said Marco, smiling at his sister.
“That she did, big brother,” agreed Louisa with a chuckle. “It was like World War Three in our house when she found out what I was planning. Do you remember?”
“What happened, Mama?” asked Robert. “Was Grandma mad?”
“Mad doesn't even begin to cover it, honey,” replied Louisa. “She said there was no way in Hades that I was going to move to Montana and live with a bunch of men.” She smiled ruefully. “You know, that was the only time I ever heard Mami curse.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“For the last time, young lady, NO !” shouted Maria. “I forbid you to go up there and live with all those men! You're too young!”
“I'm eighteen years old, Mami !” Louisa shouted back, her face red with anger. “You can't keep me tied to your apron strings forever, you know! I'm going, and that's all there is to say!”
“If your Papi was here, he wouldn't allow this, Louisa,” said Maria softly.
The young woman stopped in her tracks. “That's not fair and you know it,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “He always wanted me to follow my dreams. Please , Mami , just let me try. If it doesn't work out, I promise I'll come home and go to college like you want me to,” she begged.
Maria shook her head. “No, querida . You will stay right here and start classes in the Fall. Put this Montana business out of your mind right now. Damn it, I won't have it.”
Louisa's jaw tightened angrily. “You won't have it?!?” she questioned. “I don't think it's really your decision to make, Mami . I am going, and nothing you can say is going to stop me,” she said stubbornly, her chin set.
The Latino woman stared at her daughter. “If you leave this house, don't expect to come crawling back,” she answered quietly.
“So, that's the way it's going to be? Your way or the highway? Fine; the day after graduation, I'm out of here.” Louisa turned and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her with a crash.
Maria covered her face with her hands. “Armando,” she moaned, “where are you when I need you?”
True to her word, the day after her high school graduation, Louisa packed her bags, loaded them into her car, and left Los Angeles , bound for Montana . Maria, Marco, and Consuela watched from inside the house as she drove away, making no move to stop the young woman. For the next three years, the only communication Maria had with her daughter were brief messages sent through her cousin Antonio. Louisa made no effort to call and didn't write, except to send holiday greetings to her family. The only time she spoke to her mother was after her older sister, Consuela, died in a car accident a few months after she had left Los Angeles . Maria had begged her daughter to come home, but Louisa had refused, still angry about the fight she had had with her mother.
Present Day
“Mama was devastated when you refused to come home, Lou,” Marco said, his eyes sad. “Losing Consuela so soon after you left really took the starch out of her for a while.”
Louisa nodded. “I know that now , Marco, but at that time, my pride prevented me from seeing it,” she whispered. “I was still angry about Papi's death and the way Mami forbade me from doing what I wanted to do.” She shook her head. “If I could have done things differently, I would never have behaved the way I did.”
“We were all angry, little sister,” answered the Latino man softly. “Like Mama always said, hindsight is 20/20.”
“It still doesn't excuse my behavior,” retorted his sister. “I never really forgave myself for not going to ‘Suela's funeral.” Tears of regret welled up in her eyes and slid down her cheeks before she could blink them back.
Robert stared at his mother, upset by her display of emotion. “But you and Grandma Maria worked things out, didn't you, Mama?” he asked.
“Yes, sweetheart, we did, but not until a few years later,” answered Louisa, wiping her face with a handkerchief. “I wasn't sure she would forgive until I saw that she was as glad to see me as much as I was to see her. I admit that I was a little nervous about coming home at that time.”
“If you hadn't come home, honey, we never would have met,” smiled Hank.
“You're right, Hank,” grinned Louisa. “But, I'm sure the kids don't want to hear all that mushy stuff, as Hannah always calls it,” she teased, winking at her youngest daughter.
“Tell us what happened when you started working on the ranch, Mama,” said Emma. “Did the guys accept you, or did they get on your case for being a chick?”
“It was rough at first, but I proved that I could do the work just as well as they could,” replied her mother, her eyes twinkling. “Of course, I had Antonio backing me up, so I didn't get teased too much.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Welcome to Montana , Louisa,” said Dorothy Johnson, drawing the young woman into a warm hug. “I'm so glad you decided to come work with us. Antonio told us about your father. I'm so sorry.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson,” answered the young woman. “I'm glad to be here.”
“Can I get one of those, or do you only hug special people?” joked Dorothy's father-in-law, Richard.
“I guess you could,” Louisa joked back, reaching out to embrace the old man. “As long as you don't tease me too much, they'll keep coming, too.”
“No worries about that, little lady. Your cousin told us how you deal with people who upset you. Should I warn the hands, or let them find out the hard way?”
Louisa giggled, her eyes shining merrily. “I'm sure they'll find out sooner or later,” she grinned. “At least I know Gray Eagle will give me the benefit of the doubt. I may be kind of small, but I can work just as hard as anyone else.”
“We'll start you out with easier chores first, Louisa, and then go from there,” promised Phillip, Dorothy's husband. “I remember how well you were able to handle the horses, so I think I'll start you out cleaning stalls. How does that sound?”
“Bring it on, boss,” joked the young woman. “Is Red Elk still here? I didn't see anyone fitting his description when I got here.”
“He's in town right now getting supplies,” answered Phillip. “You'll be working with him, since he's closer to your age than some of these old cowboys.” He shook a playful finger at his newest employee. “Just keep your mind on your work and no flirting,” he teased.
“I'll try, but no guarantees,” chuckled Louisa. She turned serious. “I promise that I'll do my best and not let you down, sir. All I ask is that you give me a chance to prove myself.”
The next morning, Louisa went out to the barn to meet Red Elk. The Native American man smiled at her warmly and shook her hand. “It's about time we got a pretty girl on this place,” he grinned. “These guys are hard workers, but not exactly pleasant to look at!”
The young woman laughed. “Mr. Johnson told me not to flirt with you, sweetie, but thanks for the compliment. What would you like me to do first?”
“Before we can clean the stalls, the horses have to go out into the pasture. Come on, darling; I'll introduce you to the herd.” Red Elk turned and lead the way into the barn. He stopped in front of a stall. “Now, this fella, we're not to mess with. He's Buck's horse and he gets awful ornery if someone else tries to handle him,” he said, gesturing to the coal-black stallion inside.
“Wow, he's beautiful,” murmured Louisa, openly admiring the animal. “What's his name?”
“Diablo,” answered the man, “and he lives up to his name, too. He never misses an opportunity to take a bite out someone's hide, either. Don't ya, boy?”
The horse shook his head, nickering softly. Just then a tall, heavily-muscled cowboy came into the barn. “What are you doing?” he growled.
“Relax, Buck. I was just showing Louisa here the horses,” said Red Elk calmly. “Louisa, this is Buck Red Deer, our foreman. Bucky, this is Louisa Martin, ‘Tonio's cousin from California .”
Louisa stared up at the man, swallowing nervously. “Please to meet you,” she squeaked, holding out her hand.
The foreman looked at her menacingly for a moment, then laughed loudly, his tanned face lighting up. “Welcome, Miss Martin. I remember you from your earlier visit. Don't worry, I don't bite,” he boomed, squeezing her hand. “I may look mean, but I'm really a pussycat!”
The young woman smiled, her relief clear on her face. “Please, call me Louisa. Red Elk and I were just about to put the horses in the pasture. Since Diablo is your horse, can you give us a hand?”
“Glad to do it!” answered Buck. “Don't let this dude scare you; Diablo is fine once he gets used to ya. After that, he only nips ya, anyhow.”
“He sure is handsome,” commented the young woman. “Is he Arabian?”
The foreman chuckled. “You got a good eye for horse flesh, little missy,” he replied, fondly patting the steed's neck. “He's pure Arab. Mr. Johnson and I have been thinking about breeding him. Maybe you could help us pick out a suitable mare.”
Louisa dropped her eyes, shuffling her feet shyly. “I don't know enough about horses to choose one right now, but I'm willing to learn,” she whispered.
“We're gonna get along just fine, darlin',” grinned Buck. “Nothing I like more than someone who admits that they don't know something, but wants to learn. I better let you and Red here get to work. C'mon, D,” he said, leading the stallion from his stall.
Three hours later, Louisa was thoroughly exhausted. Cleaning stalls was harder than she had anticipated and she was more than ready to take a break.
“Good job, Nik,” praised Red Elk. He paused, seeing the young woman raise an eyebrow at him. “You don't mind if I call you that, do you?” he asked.
“No, not at all,” she answered, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Usually people call me Louisa or Lou.”
“I can change it if you like,” answered the man with a chuckle.
“No, I kinda like it,” grinned Louisa. “So, what's next, boss?” she laughed softly.
“We take a break,” smiled Red Elk. “I know for a fact that Dorothy made a pitcher of lemonade this morning. Sound good? Maybe if we sweet-talk her a little, we might even get some cookies out of the deal, too.”
“You mean, you're hungry after that huge breakfast we had?” asked the young woman as she followed her co-worker up to the house. “I was so stuffed, I wasn't sure I would even be able to move !”
“Then whose stomach was that I heard growl a few minutes ago?” teased the Native American cowboy.
Louisa giggled, patting her mid-section. “It was mine,” she admitted with a grin, opening the ranch-house door and going inside.
Dorothy looked up from the pie crust she was rolling. Looking up at the clock, she said, “I figured you two would be in for a snack about now. Red Elk, you know where the cookie jar is.”
“Thanks, Mrs. J. You always did make the best cookies around.”
“You should know; you eat enough of them,” answered Dorothy. “So, Louisa, how did you like cleaning stalls?”
The young woman dropped into a chair. “It's a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I enjoyed it,” she replied around a mouthful of oatmeal cookie. “These are really good, Mrs. Johnson.”
“Thank you; just don't eat too many,” she said, fitting the pie crust into the pan next to her elbow. “You'll soon learn that we eat hearty around here.”
Red Elk drained his glass and set it in the sink. “All right, Nik,” he commented. “Time to get back to work.”
“Coming,” Louisa called after him. “See you at lunch, Mrs. Johnson.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Present Day
“Was that all you did at first, Mama?” asked Robert. “Clean stalls?”
“I was responsible for feeding the chickens, too sweetheart,” answered Louisa. “At least until we started the spring round-up. After a few days of that , I was positive every muscle in my body was screaming for mercy!”
Johnny laughed. “I can believe that,” he chuckled. “I still get sore after wrestling with the new calves sometimes.”
“Rounding them up was the easy part,” answered Louisa with a wry smile. “I'll never forget the first time I helped Rich with the castration chores. Good thing I've got a strong stomach; otherwise, I would have lost my breakfast.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Okay, Louisa. Here's what you do,” said Richard Johnson, demonstrating. “One quick snip, and it's done.” He dropped the bloody flesh into a bucket next to his knee.
Louisa swallowed hard. She took the sharp cutters from the man's hands and waited for Antonio to drag another calf to her. She reached between the bawling animal's rear legs and cut. The calf wailed in pain, struggling to get loose.
Richard grinned. “Good job, young lady.” He paused, taking in the young woman's slightly green complexion. “It's all right, Lou. It doesn't hurt them very much. They always bellow like that.”
“Oh, I get that,” answered Louisa. “I'm just not used to all the blood, I guess.”
“At least you didn't toss your cookies,” Antonio teased his cousin. “Some of the newer hands have done that in the past.”
By the time Dorothy called them in for lunch, Louisa's hands and forearms were caked with fresh and semi-dried blood. Her earlier queasiness had disappeared and she had a wide grin on her sweaty face. “Is it lunch time already?” she wondered. “It seems like we just got started.”
Antonio laughed. “Time flies when you're having fun, I guess,” he joked. “Come on, cousin; I'll show you where to wash up.”
Over the next few months, Louisa learned many new things. Once all the calves had been castrated and branded, she helped Dorothy plant the ranch's huge garden. For many days, the two women worked hard preparing the soil and placing the seeds in neat rows. When that chore was complete, the young woman learned how to break some of the wild horses Phillip had corralled in the barnyard.
“Hang on, Lou!” shouted Antonio from the fence. He watched his cousin for several minutes, then turned to Gray Eagle, who was perched on the fence beside him.
“She's a natural,” he observed with pride. “I wasn't sure she was even strong enough, but she's proved me wrong.”
“She proved a lot of people wrong,” chuckled Gray Eagle. “Did you see the look on Buck's face when she threw that bale of hay at him? I've never seen him so surprised!”
“Probably because he didn't think she would be able to lift it, let alone throw it,” snickered Antonio. “Lou's nothing if not determined.”
The young woman stopped the stallion she was riding next to the fence and slid down. “That was great !” she crowed, her eyes shining with delight. “My butt is numb, but I loved it!”
“You will get used to that, little one,” smiled Gray Eagle. “Since you broke him, you get the honor of naming him. Any ideas?”
Louisa grinned and patted the steed's neck affectionately. “How do you like Samson?” she asked.
The horse nickered as if he knew she was talking about him. “Sounds good to me, cousin,” grinned Antonio. “I think he likes it, too.”
“Maybe he'll actually answer to his name, unlike some people I know,” teased Louisa, cocking an eyebrow at her cousin.
Gray Eagle frowned in confusion. “What does that mean?” he questioned.
“Care to explain it to him, ‘Tonio?” grinned the young woman. “Or should I call you ‘Anthony'?”
“I decided to Americanize my name when I was in high school,” said Antonio, his checks flushed.
The Native American man smiled. “I see,” he commented. “I kind of did that myself, a long time ago,” he admitted.
“What did you want to be called back then?” queried Louisa.
“George, as in Washington ,” chuckled Gray Eagle.
The cousins looked at each other and burst out laughing. “George Gray Eagle,” snickered Louisa. “That about as lyrical as Louisa Nicole Martin Lopez,” she giggled.
“Or Marco Fernando Lopez,” snorted Antonio.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Present Day
“Marco's middle name is Fernando ?!?” guffawed Chet. “I never knew that!” The Irishman went off into a fit of laughter.
“Like Beauregard is lyrical, Chester ?” Louisa teased her friend. “Those who live in glass houses, or in this case, names, shouldn't throw stones, Kelly.”
“Yeah, Chet,” put in Johnny. “How would you like it if we started calling you Beau-Beau?”
“Only if I can call you Roddy, Gage,” answered the Irishman, wiping his eyes.
Johnny grinned. “Point taken,” he chuckled. “Forget I said anything.”
“Was breaking horses hard work, Mama?” Robert wanted to know. “You never gave us the chance to find out.”
“For good reason,” replied Louisa. “It's not only hard, it can be dangerous. I found that out pretty fast.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Hold on to him, Lou!” shouted Phillip across the corral. His eyes widened in horror as the young woman lost her grip on the saddle horn and tumbled to the ground. The sickening crack of a bone breaking echoed through the still air.
Gray Eagle vaulted over the fence and dragged Louisa out of the corral. Her face was pale and cold sweat beaded her forehead.
“How bad is it?” demanded Phillip, his own face white and scared. “Louisa, where does it hurt?”
“My left ankle,” gasped the young woman. “I felt it give when I hit the dirt,” she grimaced.
“At least you remembered to land on your feet,” said Gray Eagle softly, trying to lighten the mood. “Better your boots than your skull, young lady.”
Louisa groaned. “Can you spare me the jokes?” she grumbled. “There goes a good pair of boots,” she continued, as Phillip carefully cut the leather from her foot. “And just after I got them broken in.”
Dorothy came running across the yard, drawn by the shouts. “What happened?” she panted.
“I'm okay, Mrs. Johnson; I just busted my ankle, that's all.”
The older woman looked across the corral, spotting Buck leading the horse the young woman had been riding away. She turned to her husband, her eyes shooting sparks. “Phillip, how could you let Louisa ride that wild beast?!?” she tongue-lashed. “She could have been killed!”
The man ducked his head in shame. “I thought she could handle him,” he defended. “I guess I was wrong.”
“I'll say you were!” spat his wife. “I'll get the truck; we better get her to the doc before she ends up with any more broken bones.” The woman stomped off in a huff.
Louisa's lips twitched and she looked down to hide the smile spreading across her dusty face. She glanced up, meeting Gray Eagle's gaze and they both burst out laughing. Phillip raised a hand, cautioning them to quiet down. “Will you two stop cackling already?” he muttered. “We in enough trouble as it is now.”
The young woman wiped her streaming eyes on her sleeve. “Sorry, but she sounded just like Mami when she loses her temper!” she squeaked.
Johnson snorted. “See how much you're giggling when you get the lecture I know is coming,” he said sourly.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Present Day
“How bad did she chew you out, honey?” asked Hank with a grin.
“Take the last tongue-lashing I gave you, and multiply it by about a million,” giggled Louisa. “Talk about fire and brimstone! Dorothy was so mad, I'm wouldn't have been surprised to see flames shoot out of her ears.”
“My mother was like that at times, too,” said Chet, his eyes twinkling. “Mostly after one of my pranks went haywire.”
“Too bad she couldn't have been at the station to chew you out, Kelly,” chuckled Mike, making everyone laugh. “Things would have been a lot calmer if she had.”
“How bad was your ankle broken, Mom?” cut in Matthew.
“I shattered two bones in the ankle itself, cracked my heel bone, and broke three bones in my foot,” admitted Louisa with a giggle. “The doctor had to use pins to put my ankle back together. To this day, I still set off the metal detector at the airport!”
Johnny winced in sympathy. “Man, that must have hurt, Lou!”
“Not as bad as you think, Johnny,” grinned the woman. “But having a cast from my toes to my knee was even worse. I couldn't even get around for three months. Buck teased me about getting me a little red wagon so I could go outside without being carried.”
“And did he?” asked Marco, his mustache twitching with amusement.
Louisa laughed again. “He sure did!” she cackled. “But it was a long time before Dorothy stopped watching me like a hawk.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Louisa limped out of the house, supporting her weight on the cane her physical therapist had instructed her to use. Her ankle was still wrapped in Ace® bandages and was still weak from being in the cast, which had been removed the week before.
“Hold it right there, young lady!” a voice called out behind her. “Just where do you think you're going?” questioned Dorothy from the doorway.
“No place,” answered the young woman, dropping into a chair on the porch. “I just wanted to get some fresh air.”
The older woman folded her arms across her chest and looked down at her employee. “Stay put, Louisa,” she ordered. “I'll be right back.”
Gray Eagle saw her sitting on the porch and strolled over. “Good morning, little one,” he greeted with a smile. “How did you get past the border guard?” he joked playfully.
“I didn't,” admitted Louisa with a grin. “Dorothy caught me as soon as I walked out of the house.”
Mrs. Johnson returned, carrying a large basket of mending. Handing the basket to Louisa, she nodded to Gray Eagle. “This should keep you out of trouble for a while,” she teased gently.
“Yes, ma'am,” answered the young woman, threading a large needle.
Gray Eagle reached out and patted Louisa's shoulder. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go berry picking with me, but I guess I better not,” he smiled. “But I promise to bring you back a surprise,” he continued, stepping off the porch. “See you later.”
“Bye,” answered the young woman, watching him go. With a heavy sigh, she lifted a shirt from the basket and bent her head. As she sewed buttons onto the garment, a commotion from the corral caught her attention.
Buck and Antonio were leading a large, dapple-gray mare into the enclosed space. The animal struggled mightily against the ropes attached to her halter, neighing loudly in protest. Suddenly, she reared, her front hooves striking Buck in the chest. The foreman went down, gasping for breath.
Louisa jumped out of her chair, dropping the shirt onto the floor. Snatching up her cane, she limped down the stairs and out into the barnyard. “Phillip!” She screamed. “We need help out here!”
“Lou, stay back!” shouted Antonio, kneeling beside his friend.
Phillip Johnson raced out of the house, quickly taking in the scene in front of him. He sprinted across the yard and vaulted over the fence. Slowly approaching the mare, he spoke softly to her and grabbed the rope dangling from her halter. “Easy, girl. No one is going to hurt you.” The animal calmed, flicking her ears back and forth.
“What the Hell happened?!?” he demanded, shooting a look at the cousins.
“Buck and I were bringing Fancy out and she just went crazy, Mr. Johnson,” answered Antonio. “She reared up and Buck caught it in the chest.”
Just then, the foreman groaned and tried to sit up. The front of his shirt was ripped and blood was leaking from a shallow gash just above his belt. “What happened?” he muttered groggily.
Dorothy came running out of the house, drawn by the commotion. She paled when she saw Buck lying on the ground. The color returned to her cheeks, however, when she saw Louisa leaning against the corral fence.
“Get your butt back in the house, young lady,” she said sternly. “How bad is it, Phillip?”
“I'm fine, ma'am,” replied Buck, getting to his feet. “I just got the wind knocked out of me.”
Louisa motioned to Buck to come closer to the fence. “Unbutton your shirt,” she instructed, ignoring Dorothy's attempts to pull her away.
“If you wanted to look at my chest, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask,” flirted the foreman with a wink.
“Can the comedy, pal,” grinned the young woman. “I just want to make sure you don't have any broken ribs,” she continued, running her hands across the man's chest and sides.
Phillip stared at her in amazement. “Where in the world did you learn that ?” he asked, his mouth hanging open.
“From a matron at the orphanage in St. Louis ,” answered Louisa, dropping her hands. “No fractures. You were lucky, my friend,” she said to Buck. “You'll have a nice bruise, and a few stitches, but I think you'll live. You should get checked out, though.”
Dorothy planted her hands on her ample hips and glared. “Now that you're done playing doctor, young lady, march !” she grumbled, turning Louisa towards the house. “And you, mister,” she went on, spearing Buck with a look, “get Antonio to drive you into town to get a doctor's opinion.”
“Yes, ma'am,” replied Buck, looking at the ground to hide his amusement. “Come on, ‘Tonio,” he chuckled.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Present Day
“Was Buck hurt bad?” asked Johnny.
“Nah, just a very colorful bruise and a few stitches,” answered Louisa, chuckling at the memory. “That was nothing compared to the chewing out we both got from Dorothy.”
A knock on the door interrupted her musings. Hank got up to answer it and found Buck Red Deer himself standing on the porch.
The foreman was surprised to see the group assembled in the Stanley 's home. He grinned, his eyes searching for Louisa.
“Lou, I'm so sorry I missed the service,” he said, hugging his long-time friend. “Maria was a heck of a lady. What's going on? Why do you all look like you swallowed canaries?” he asked warily.
Louisa chuckled and returned her friend's embrace. “We were just talking about the time Fancy used you for a football,” she teased. “Remember that?”
Buck's rolling laugh filled the room. “That was peanuts compared to the lecture we got from Dorothy afterwards,” he snickered. “I don't know who she was madder at; me or you!”
“I think it was pretty equal,” giggled Louisa. “Have a seat; I was just getting to Tom's arrival at the ranch.”
“Are you sure you want to bring that up?” asked Buck with a frown. “He treated you awful bad, as I recall.”
“Yeah, but he is a big part of the reason I ended up coming back to L.A. ,” replied the young woman.