Saturday, June 17, 1961
Impatient with his recovery, Russ discarded his sling a week after leaving the hospital. Aunt Bess fussed over him constantly and I thought they’d come to blows. One morning, she turned away from another argument and wiped her eyes. Russ swallowed whatever he was going to say.
“Bess,” he said softly.
She turned to him.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“I don’t mean to pick on you.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just worried about your arm, about the ranch and about that lunatic who shot you.”
Her voice wavered. Before she could say anything else, Russ touched her cheek.
“I’m gonna be all right, Bess.
She smiled at him and I was blinded by the love in her eyes.
Monday, June 19, 1961
We saw no sign of Grady. That didn’t mean we didn’t keep a watch out for him.
Rick came over after school every day and helped with the horses until Russ recovered. Surprisingly, Aunt Bess was the one who suggested it.
Most evenings he stayed to eat dinner with us. And one night he even brought dessert, an angel food cake he made from scratch.
“You’re gonna make someone a good wife,” kidded Russ.
Aunt Bess kicked him under the table.
“Puts my angel food cake to shame,” she praised taking a bite.
“Watch,” said Russ leaning toward me. “Now they’re gonna start trading recipes.”
Rick laughed. “Be happy to give you my recipe, Mrs. Perkins.”
“I’d like that,” said my aunt.
Who would have thought we’d be sharing a meal and recipes. I couldn’t believe how things changed in the past month.
* * *
School was winding down for the year. We only had a week left. Lisa got a job for the summer as a life guard at the pool in town. I’d gone shopping with her to buy a new bathing suit for her new position.
Shadow Dancer was fully recovered and doing well on the lunge line. Then one afternoon I got home from school and I saw him saddled and waiting in the corral. Rick bumped into me I stopped so abruptly.
“It’s time you got on him,” Russ announced.
“You mean ride him?”
“That’s what you usually do when a horse is saddled.”
“What if I make a mistake? What if I mess up his training? What if I…”
“Maryann, just get on the horse.” Russ held his bridle.
“You’ll do fine,” Rick whispered in my ear and gently pushed me forward.
With shaking legs I climbed up the mounting block and eased into the saddle.
“Now walk him around,” instructed Russ.
I nudged Shadow with my legs. Instead of walking he broke into a trot that quickly turned into a lope.
Thankfully, my experience with Freeman gave me confidence and my body responded automatically to the change in gait.
I pulled back lightly on the reins and he slowed a little. His movement was smooth and his back broader than Freeman’s.
“Looking good, girl,” encouraged Russ as we circled the corral. Rick stood next to Russ as I flew by.
My dream came true. I was riding Shadow Dancer! I wished Dad could see me now.
Reaching down I ran my hand along his neck. “Good boy, Shadow.” His ears flicked back at the sound of my voice.
Gently I pulled Shadow back again until he was trotting. We circled the corral and changed directions. I could feel Shadow’s energy under me bursting to go faster. Then I remembered what Russ said about discipline — that it was just as important for the rider as it was her horse. Since this was my first time on him, I wanted to make sure Shadow did what I wanted when I asked him.
Only after we’d circled several times at a trot in both directions did I let him go faster. At the barest touch of my legs, Shadow responded. His gait was smoother and more comfortable.
I petted Shadow’s neck and told him how wonderful he was.
When Russ called us over, I slowed him to a trot, then a walk. He pulled at the bit and fought me for the briefest time before obeying. By the time I reached Russ, I was bursting with happiness and pride.
“How do you like him?”
“He’s the best,” I said stroking his neck. Then I dismounted. Shadow nuzzled my neck.
“Expected him to act up more,” said Russ.
“So did I,” I said hugging Shadow. “He’s the most fabulous horse ever.”
Rick smiled at me. “You looked like you belonged on him. I couldn’t tell it was the first time you ever rode him.”
“You did a fine job, Maryann,” said Russ. “You sit nice and quiet in the saddle. That’s what he needs, someone calm and steady.”
I unsaddled Shadow and swapped his bridle for his halter hanging on the fence.
“I better walk him until he’s cool,” I said. Rick hopped down off the fence and walked beside me.
“He sure surprised me,” I confided to Rick. “I half expected him to throw me. He was full of beans. I could barely hold him back when I first got on.”
“Well it didn’t look that way.”
We walked around, cooling off Shadow until supper time. Rick stayed to eat with us again. Afterward his truck wouldn’t start.
“It’s the battery,” muttered Rick.
“Can’t Russ jump start it?” I asked.
“I’ve done that too many times lately. I won’t hold a charge anymore. I need a new battery.”
Russ came out of the house.
“What’s the problem?” he asked.
“The battery,” said Rick.
“Want me to jump it?”
Rick shook his head. “Done that too many times lately. I need a new battery.”
“You want me to give you a ride home? Or do you want to call your dad?”
“He’s at the fire house,” said Rick. “It’s their weekly meeting. He won’t be home until late.”
Russ considered that. “Well, drive my truck. I’ll get a new battery for yours tomorrow and you can pay me when you come after school.”’
“Gee, that would be great. You sure it’s no trouble?”
“None,” Russ reassured him. “Let me get the keys.”
Five minutes later, Rick was on his way back home.
* * *
At ten o’clock the phone rang. We were in the living room and Russ got up to answer it.
“He left here about seven-thirty, Doug,” he said. “He’s got my truck. The battery died on his. I’m getting him a new one tomorrow. We’ll change it out when he comes here after school.”
There was silence while he listened.
“I’ll check the road from our end, see if we find him, Then I’ll call you.” Russ hung up the phone.
“Where’s Rick?” I asked standing up.
“He never came home. I’m gonna drive up the road and see if he broke down or something.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No you stay here, Maryann.”
“Take her,” said Aunt Bess. “She can shine a light into the woods in case the truck ran off the road.”
“Let me ask Tony if I can use his truck.”
Ten minutes later we were driving towards Rick’s house in Tony’s red pickup. I held a large flashlight out the window. Russ drove slowly while I pointed it into the woods.
“See anything?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
My eyes scanned for a light or sign of tire tracks going off the road.
“Wait. Stop. I see something.” The light reflected off something in the woods.
Russ immediately pulled over.
He got out of the truck. Shining the flashlight into the woods, it picked up the tail light of his green pickup .
“Rick?” he called. No answer. No movement the truck. The silence was eerie.
“Do you think Rick’s all right?”
He turned to me. “Maryann, drive back to the ranch. Have Bess call an ambulance and a tow truck. Tell them it’s a half-mile from the ranch on the other side of the creek. I’ll go down and see what’s happened.”
I stared. “An ambulance?” I squeaked. “Is Rick going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. Go on. Now Maryann.” The urgency in his voice broke through my daze. Heart pounding, I got in the truck and turned it around. Thankfully, this truck was the one Russ had given me lessons with.
When I got back to the ranch my hands were shaking so badly I fumbled as I opened the door to the house.
Aunt Bess took one look at me pushed me into a chair. “Sit down,” she ordered.
I collapsed into one of the chairs in the dining room.
“What happened?” she asked. With chattering teeth, I told her. Now I felt so cold I couldn’t stop shivering. My aunt took off her sweater and wrapped it around me.
She called for the ambulance and tow truck. After those calls she spoke to Rick’s father.
“Doug? It’s Bess. Listen, Russ found the truck.” She gave him the location.
“Yeah I called for an ambulance and the tow truck. Russ hadn’t gone down the bank so we don’t know in what shape we’ll find Rick.”
She listened in silence and then hung up.
“Drink this.” She put a mug of coffee in front of me. I looked up at her.
“It’s got milk and sugar in it. I’d never forget how you take your coffee.”
“Will he be okay?”
“Drink your coffee,” she instructed dodging my question.
I began praying in earnest that Rick would be okay.
An hour and a half later Russ pulled up. He came in with the Sheriff on his heels.
Without asking, Aunt Bess poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to each of them.
“Did you see Rick? Is he okay? Did he have to go in the ambulance?”
“Slow down,” said Russ. “We got my truck outta the ditch. They took him to the hospital. Banged up his head. He was groggy. Doesn’t look like he broke anything. Probably a concussion. Doug’s with him. We’ll know more tomorrow.”
“What do you think happened?” asked the Sheriff.
“Someone ran him off the road. That was no accident,” spat Russ.
“No it sure wasn’t,” agreed the lawman. “Did you see those skid marks?”
Russ nodded.
“I don’t like coincidences. You got shot, now your truck gets run off the road. Why was Doug’s boy using your truck and not his own?”
“Battery died,” explained Russ. “We swopped trucks. I was going to get a new battery for his tomorrow. Offered him my truck. Figured it would save time me driving him home since Doug was at a fire house meeting.”
The Sheriff nodded still taking notes.
“What color truck does Grady drive?” he asked.
“Yellow,” answered Russ. “Like its owner.”
“You don’t think Grady…” I left the thought unfinished.
“I wouldn’t put anything past him,” said Russ. “It’s my truck that Rick was driving. I didn’t think I was putting him at risk.” He looked tired. “Grady ran him off the road, thinking it was me. That worries me, Sheriff.”
“I know,” the lawman said. “He’s targeting you and the ranch. We have some leads on him.”
“In other words, you don’t have him.” Russ’ face was grim.
“No, we don’t,” he reluctantly admitted.
“Great.”
“Wish I had a photo of Grady to show around,” said the Sheriff. “The camera didn’t work the night he spent in jail. I wasn’t aware of that until after I let him go the next day.
“Could you use a drawing of him instead?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I have a drawing of Grady.”
“What she’s trying to explain,” clarified my aunt, “is that’s Maryann’s an artist. She’s always drawing people and horses around the ranch.” She turned to me.
“Do you have a sketch of Grady Gibbons?”
I nodded. “Yes. Let me get my sketchbook and I’ll show you.”
Returning with the book, I put it on the table and began flipping through the drawings.
Looking over my shoulder, the Sheriff watched. “These are really good,” he said.”
“Of course,” said my aunt proudly. “She’s an artist.”
I found the sketch I’d done of Grady. It was after he’d turned his whip on me. It helped get rid of my nightmares by putting his image down on paper. I’d captured it all — that wild look in his eyes, the sneer of his mouth. Even if you’d never met him, taking one look at the drawing, you’d step back.
“He looks mad enough to kill you,” said the Sheriff. “Can I borrow this? I’ll get copies made from it. Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will recognize him and tell me where he is.”
“Sure take it,” I said, ripping the drawing out of my book.
“I had no idea your niece was so talented.”
I blushed at the compliment.
“Why of course she’s talented,” said my aunt, putting her arm around me. “She’s an artist. That’s what she does.”
“Well I’ve got to be on my way.” The Sheriff got to his feet. “Thanks for the sketch. You folks be careful now.” He turned to Russ. “Tomorrow I’ll be interested to see if there’s any paint on your truck from the vehicle that ran him off the road.”
“Me, too,” muttered Russ.
We were still sitting around the table when Doug Ferguson called. Rick had a concussion and they were keeping him overnight. If all went well, he’d be released in the morning.
“Should never have given him my truck,” said Russ after he hung up. “I put a target on his back.”
“You had no control over what Grady did,” said Aunt Bess. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
Russ didn’t answer.