“Just what is it you expect us to find down here?” Lillian hissed, running to keep up with the flitting figure of her weightless ancestor.
“I won’t know until I find it, now will I, and there’s no need for you to be hissing at me, ain’t nobody but these horses out here, and even if somebody happened along all they’d see would be a crazy woman nattering away to herself.”
“I’m not nattering to myself. Though Lord knows, thanks to you and your disappearing acts, everyone I know probably thinks I’ve taken leave of my senses what with me always talking when it seems there’s nobody else around.”
Mother chuckled. “You’d be surprised how convenient it can be having people thinking you’re just a wee bit loony. Explains away a lot and keeps them well out of your business if you know what I mean.”
“Stuff and nonsense. Okay, out there in those pens is where all the bucking stock is kept and in those trailers in the lot behind the pens is where the riders keep their sleeping trailers. I don’t know which one is Chance’s, though.
“Don’t you worry your head about that. You just go on back home and tell Irene that everything’s going to be just fine and she’s not to fuss anymore about that dream she had.”
“I don’t know what you think you can do anyway. With Matt and Irene not speaking any longer and Matt disappearing and missing his chance to ride in the rodeo, there’s not a heck of a lot of fixing anyone can do, I don’t think. If you’re planning on mending things between Irene and her Matt, I don’t see any way that’s going to happen. Irene believes what she saw in her dream and you know how she is with those dreams. At least you ought to know since you’re probably responsible for her seeing them in the first place.”
“Nope, that’s not me. That’s just something most of us have all been born with. One of those blessings or curses, depending on how you look at things, that we’ve all got to live with. The rodeo’s not what’s at the heart of this problem. But before we fix the heart, so to speak, we need to take care of the situation that started all this mess to begin with. You see, I fully believe what young Matt had to say about what Chance Mayfair did with his horse, and not only that, I believe I know exactly what kind of tomfoolery caused all this.”
“What do you mean, Mother? Caused all what, and what kind of tom foolery are you talking about? I swear you talk around in circles more than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Just don’t you worry your head about how or what, you just leave that to me. I’ve been pondering all this ever since Tami told us about Irene’s dream. Something kept niggling at the back of my mind when she described her dream and then told me about Matt and his horse, and that’s when I remembered Andrew Isaacs.”
Lillian screwed up her face and looked at Mother like she’d taken leave of her senses.
“Who is Andrew Isaacs and what’s he got to do with Irene’s dream and Matt’s rodeo?”
“It’s not what’s he got to do with it, Lillian, it’s what it reminded me of, what this Chance Mayfair must have done. You see, Andrew Isaacs prided himself on having the finest horses in all of England, and he bet a lot of money on the results of an upcoming race at Doncaster. Word got around however, that a young upstart named Mark Appleyard had a black stallion that could outrun anything on four legs. People claimed they’d seen him out on the moors and there wasn’t a horse in all of England that could even come close.”
“How does that remind you of whatever it was that Matt thinks Chance Mayfair was doing to his horse?”
“Well, back then there weren’t any fancy electronic devices, but Andrew wasn’t taking any chances that Appleyard might actually have a horse that could outrun his stallion. You see there’s always been certain sounds that spook horses, and one of the worst was the bagpipes. There were a lot of accusations flying around after that race, let me tell you. Mark’s horse went flying past Andrew’s and he wasn’t looking back. Then, just as they got to the farthest turn in the course, from somewhere off in the woods came the worst bagpipe playing anyone had ever heard. Folks all around the racetrack covered their ears, and that there horse of Mark’s, he left the track, leaped across the ditches, tossed young Appleyard so far it broke the young lad’s neck. There was a lot of bad feelings about that, but nobody could ever prove anything so Andrew got the prize and that was the end of things.”
“So, you think maybe Chance Mayfair’s gotten hold of some kind of electronic device he’s using to drive his own horse crazy, and maybe, given Irene’s dream, he’d be thinking of using that same device to do the same kind of damage to Matt that Andrew Isaacs made happen to Mark Appleyard?”
“It crossed my mind, it did. That’s why I’ve got this idea in mind, and with a little cooperation from you, I think we might just put this situation to rest without anybody at all getting hurt.”
Mother spoke for several minutes, and by the time she’d finished laying out her plan, Lillian was barely holding in her laughter.
“So, you see, what I want you to do, my girl, is find out where Chance Mayfair bunks for the night and then I want you to go on back to Irene’s apartment and leave the rest to me.”
* * *
Mother floated over the line of motor homes that filled the area behind the barns, where most of the cowboys bunked out during the ten days of the Calgary Stampede. Lillian had found out from one of the ladies in the Exhibition Hall Café that Chance Mayfair, one of the least popular of the cowboys who came into the small Café every morning for breakfast, was a cheap tipper and all in all, an unpleasant person to be around. Chance kept his truck and trailer behind the barns for sleeping but apparently, he wasn’t much into culinary arts, and when he didn’t eat in the Café he bummed left-overs off the food vendors in the grounds. A lot of the vendors were generous with whatever was left at the end of the day and Chance made certain to be first in line for any free stuff.
Not a very nice young laddie, but perhaps after I’ve had a wee chat with him, he’ll come up with a whole new change in attitude.
Mother found the trailer, slid on inside the locked doors and pulled a chair up beside the man sprawled across the folded-out double bed, snoring loudly.
“So it’s Chance Mayfair I’ve the pleasure of speaking with today, is it now?” Mother put her mouth next to the young man’s ear and raised her voice to a pitch that would easily summon all the cows on Scotton Moor.
“Hey! What the hell!” Startled out of a dead sleep, Chance leapt out of bed and towered over the old lady sitting in a chair beside his bed, grinning like a circus clown.
“How’d you get into my trailer?” Chance bore down on the woman. “You better get the hell outta here or I’ll be calling security to come and drag you out.”
“You mean like this?” Mother swooped out of the chair, flew across the room, and landed on top of the television set up in the far corner of the combination living and bedroom.
“Hey!” Chance tossed his hands in the air. “How’d you do that! What are you doing in here? I may have had a couple of beers last night but I know damn well I didn’t ask no old woman to come on home with me.”
“Oh, ye don’t like the way I look? Well, if’n that’s all that’s troublin’ you lad, why didn’t you say so? How about I just fix myself up a wee bit.”
In the blink of an eye the old woman disappeared and a sleek black panther with glowing red eyes and a mouth full of gleaming white teeth crouched in her place.
“No! Hey! What the hell! Stop it, back! Get away from me!” Chance jumped over the back of the chair where Mother’d previously sat, his face as white as the teeth of the panther.
“Well now. You don’t fancy that look either?” Mother turned from the panther back into the old woman and floated down from the TV set to stand on the floor in front of the chair.
“You’re a witch, aren’t you?”
“In a manner of speaking. So are you ready to listen to a few things I’ve got to tell you or do you want me to invite a few more of my friends to pay you a visit?”
“No! I’m listening. I’m a real good listener. You just go right ahead with whatever it is you want to talk to me about.”
“There, there, now that’s a sensible laddie. So, first, we’re going to have an understanding about the trick you pulled out there in the ring the other day.”
“What trick?”
“Did you hear me tell you that I wanted you to listen and not waste my time with any silly denials? As you’ve already figured, I’m one of the immortal kind, and I don’t need you to tell me what you did or didn’t do out there the other night. I know what you did. I know everything you did, and from now on I’m always going to know everything you do. Do you understand me now, or do you need me to call in a few more of my friends to help you clear the cobwebs outta that rather thick head you got perched on top of yer shoulders?”
“No ma’am. I mean yes ma’am. I mean I understand and I won’t interrupt no more.”
“Good, then let me tell you what you’re going to do from here on out.”
Mother spoke for another twenty minutes, and finally, when she’d finished all she had to say, and just to make darn sure Chance Mayfair would have no illusions about who he was dealing with, she took time out to change into what most humans assumed a werewolf looked like. For good measure, she finished with an incredibly ghoulish eight-foot zombie.
“Oh, it was powerful fun.” Mother laughed as she told Lillian all about it back in the apartment. “I suspect he most ‘probly had to change his drawers and his jeans once I left. I’ve been wanting to try out that Zombie ever since I watched that silly show on Katherine’s television set.”
“Oh, Mother! I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” Lillian smothered a giggle. “I’ve got to confess though, I’m truly grateful you’ve taken care of that dreadful Chance Mayfair. Now all we have to do is figure out how to patch things up between Irene and Matt!”
“Just you leave that to me, my girl. I only wanted to catch you up on me night’s work. All you’ve got to do now is tuck yourself in for a good night’s sleep. I’ll be gone when you get up in the morning but make me a promise that you’ll keep Irene here in the apartment until she gets a call from her Matt. Once she gets that call everything should be set into motion slick as a whistle and before you know it we’ll be listening to wedding bells and eating cake.”
* * *
Matt Dillon strode along the front porch of the Strathmore farmhouse his parents had passed along to Matt after their 50th wedding anniversary, when they’d packed up and moved to Phoenix.
“It’s your turn now, son.” Matt’s dad had hugged his son and handed him the keys. Then he and Matt’s mom, who didn’t look much older than the flower child she’d been when Matt’s dad had fallen head over heals in love with her during an extended holiday in San Francisco, had driven off to warmer climes.
Now, without mom or dad to turn to for advice and not sure how to dig himself out of the hole he’d buried himself in with the only woman he’d ever cared about, Matt paced and worried and paced and worried some more. How in blazes was he ever going to convince Irene that she mattered more to him than the Calgary stampede or any rodeo on earth after throwing down with her the way he had?
What in hell could have gotten into me telling Irene if she didn’t show up at the rodeo I’d be rethinking the wedding. Even a moron with half a brain would know what a spitfire like Irene would do with an ultimatum like that.
“Well, me lad. Sounds like you’ve got that part figured out just fine. The question is, how are you planning to dig out of the hole ye’ve plopped yerself into?”
Matt jumped like he’d been struck by a bolt of lightening.
“What? Who are you? Where’d you come from?” Matt rubbed his eyes to make sure he hadn’t conjured up the vision stretched out in his porch swing, looking for all the world like she’d always belonged there. One who had, moreover, apparently read his mind.
Mother Shipton stood up from the swing, shook out her long black skirt and wrapped the purple shawl closer around her shoulders. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in taking care of the Shipton family. Seeing as how they’re all my direct descendants. Surely you’ve enough brains to figure out that little lassie of yours isn’t just one of those cookie cutter cuties that hangs around that there rodeo ye’ve gotten yerself into such a mess over, haven’t ye?”
Matt shook his head. “Are you real?”
“Of course I’m real. The question me lad, is have you gathered up your wits enough to know what yer next move’s going to be?”
“You’re—I’ve seen your picture! I’ve heard Mimi’s stories about the famous family ancestor! You’re Mother Shipton? From—what was it? The 1500’s?”
“I am. So let’s stop wasting time and you tell me. Are your wits all together again?”
“Oh I’ve gathered them up again, all right. In fact, there’s only one possible move to make in this situation and that’s complete and absolute groveling. I’ve only been pacing for the past hour trying to decide whether or not getting down on my knees and begging would do the trick or if I should just lie down on the ground in front of her and not get up till she forgives me. To be honest, ma’am, I don’t mind at all what century you hopped in here from, I’d just be grateful for any advice you think might work.”
Mother choked back laughter. Lillian and Irene had both sworn he was bright. Now all she had to do was give him a bit of instruction, coupled with a few threats to life and limb if he ever pulled a stupid stunt like this again, and things ought to work out just fine.
Following a very serious heart-to-heart between the two, Matt finally stopped Mother with one more question.
“I don’t want to make you mad, ma’am”
“Well then, ye better fix that tongue in your head. You can call me Mother or Grandmother if you must, but I don’t cotton to ma’am one little bit. I ain’t yer local school teacher.”
“Yes ma’am, I mean Mother. I understand.”
“Now what was your question?”
“It’s about the wedding. Honest, Mother, I don’t have a good feeling about that gathering at all. It seems to me the wedding ought to be something special between Irene and myself, and just a few of our closest friends and family. Neither Irene nor I are big crowd people, and I don’t want to insult anyone by leaving them out, and the fact of the matter is, if we hold that wedding anywhere around these parts it’s going to turn into nothing short of a gigantic circus performance. Or rather, rodeo show.”
“Well, is that all that’s worrying you? Smart young lad like you ought to have it all figured out. Once you get down on your knees again, and you do a real good job of convincing that lovely woman you’re lucky enough to have wanting to marry you that the only thing you want is to escape the rest of the world and go make her your wife, she’s going to fall into your arms. So the only thing you need to do is get your bag, put it in your truck, run her into the city to pick up her own bag, which Lillian will have already packed. Then you head for the airport, stop at the West Jet Information Desk, ask for an envelope left for you by Lillian Shipton and she’ll hand you your tickets, your itinerary, and your instructions covering exactly what to do and where to go once you get to Las Vegas. Now write down your credit card number and don’t forget that expiry date thingy and give it to me. I’ll see that Lillian gets all the information she needs, and she’ll call you as soon as she books the flight to tell you what time you need to be at the airport. And don’t worry one bit about friends and relatives and all that nonsense. You just leave that to Lillian and me. We’ll have it all worked out with no hurt feelings anywhere. You just get yourself on over to Vegas and you’ll find everything you and Irene need waiting right there for you to tie the knot.”
“Mother, you’re an angel. Can I hug you? I mean, you won’t evaporate will you?”
Mother burst into delighted laughter. “You come on over here and let me give you the biggest hug you’ve ever had.” She grabbed hold of Matt and pulled him into her arms for an all-encompassing mother of the universe style hug.
“Now don’t you worry about anything. You get on that phone of yours and convince the love of your life you need her to come out here right now. I’ll whisk on back to town and see that Lillian gets Irene’s bags packed.”
Matt nodded and pulled the cell phone out of his pocket.
Matt put the cell phone up to his ear, pressed a button and started to wave at Mother. One minute she’d been there and the next, she was gone. Damn, I hope I didn’t dream all that up.
“Irene? Listen, sweetheart, I’m the biggest fool in the world and I know it. I love you. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, and I will never again ever talk to you like I did the other day. Please, sweetheart, will you come out here and let me make it up to you and give me the chance to convince you that I love you more than anything else in the world?”
Matt held the phone to his ear, his grin growing wider with every second that passed. “Yes, please, come now. I love you. I’ll be right here waiting for you. Oh, and if Mother arrives before you leave, tell her thanks.”
Matt laughed into the phone. “I’ll explain when you get here. Just hurry.”