Читать книгу Taken By A Texan - Lass Small, Lass Small - Страница 9

One

Rip Morris landed the range plane near Tom Keeper with casual finesse. He was a casual man, lazy-eyed and aloof. He was also one hell of a pilot. He had eyes like a hawk. He could spot anything...even if it couldn’t move.

As Tom went over to the two-seater, exposed-cockpit plane, Rip was throttling it down. He pushed up his goggles and lifted the flaps on his helmet. He needed a shave. That wasn’t unusual.

Tom tersely said, “I think there’s a person out there that this dog is worried about. How about you taking the dog up and go slow enough that the dog just might know where you are and where he’s been?”

And Rip regarded the medium-sized dog, who was mostly black with some white, with a measured look. Get the damned dog aloft, Rip thought, and it would probably throw up, or see something and jump out. No sweat. It was the dog’s funeral.

So with some effort and no help from Rip at all, Tom got the dog in the front cockpit. Tom suggested, “You might just go along low and slow and see how the dog reacts.”

Rip nodded once as he said, “Wait here.” He revved the engine and took off.

Rip flew the plane low and slow, allowing him to follow the dog’s trail on the ground. The trail did circle, but the plane was by then up high enough that Rip could see farther.

Remarkably, the dog didn’t try to jump out, but its attention was riveted. Then, from the back cockpit, Rip noticed that the dog wasn’t looking along the way, its attention was ahead. They went quite a way, even flying. Then the dog’s head moved in little adjustments.

Way ahead, there was a tiny spiral of buzzards.

The dog barked.

It turned and barked again at Rip. But under the distant spiral of waiting buzzards, Rip had already seen the speck-sized, floundered horse with a person trapped underneath it. Rip throttled down and did a low, slow circle. The buzzards rose higher, and Rip had the room he needed to land.

The horse did not move. The trapped person raised a feeble hand. Well, hell. Whoever it was under that horse was still alive but probably damn near dead.

But the dog was smart enough not to jump out yet. He squeak-barked down at the still horse and the raised arm—and he stayed in the plane. But he squeak-barked back at Rip as if to tell him to land.

Rip gave the dog an enduring glance. He then turned the plane, easing it down slowly in a wide circle so as not to stir up too much dust in the low grasses.

As he turned, Rip called in to the ranch, telling exactly where he was and to call Tom Keeper. He was told he needed to release the guy from under the horse without hurting him worse. Rip said he’d see if he could do that while he waited for the other planes to get there. Yeah, he had extra water.

Rip’s disgruntled mind wondered why the hell that guy was out there in that empty area with only a horse and a dog. People are stupid. It only takes one stupid nut to tie up the whole area looking for him. Rip remembered that was how Jones had crashed, looking for some dumb pilgrim who didn’t know enough to pay attention to where he was. At that time, the storm was such that the flooding land pockets on the plain could drown a man.

After saving the damned pilgrim, Jones’s spirit had probably just trudged on off to heaven feeling he’d done his share. He would’ve had no hostility about stupidity like Rip Morris was grinding his teeth over, right then, for another pilgrim out—alone on a plain—and trapped under a dead horse.

If he’d had somebody with him, he wouldn’t have been this bad. On top of all that, he had invaded private land without permission.

With skill, Rip landed the plane downwind so that no dirt blew over the motionless horse or the man.

The dog was out of the cockpit first. It went to the man, sniffed and looked up at Rip urgently.

Rip got the water bag and went carefully to the man who was trying to speak. His tongue was swollen. His leg was trapped under the dead horse.

Rip took out a clean handkerchief and soaked it to lay it on the man’s mouth. Then he dribbled water onto it as he talked, soothing, telling the man that others would be there shortly.

And they were. Planes landed downwind. They avoided the buzzards and did as Rip had done. The men came with ropes and pulled the dead horse away with care. They talked to the man who was, by then, covered with blankets so that he wouldn’t chill further.

The injured, dehydrated man was put on a stretcher, carried to the cargo plane and put inside. The dog tried to get into the plane, but Rip held him.

The dog hoarsely tried to bark, not fighting or growling but lunging in Rip’s firm grip. It just showed that Rip knew animals. He talked gently the entire time, soothing, explaining.

Watching the rescue plane rising from the ground, the dog shivered and sat still. Rip tied a blanket around the dog. Then he carried the dog back to his own plane, leaving others to find where the horse had been, who the man could be and why the hell he’d been out there alone.

Rip got into the plane and flew back to the ranch. On the plane’s communication radio, he told Joe what all had taken place. Then he told about the dog. He was coming in with the dog. Rip asked Joe, “Could you see if one of the vets is available?”

So when Rip landed, there was an interesting number of people available. The dog shivered. They took the dog and put him on a stretcher and, still wrapped in the blanket, they carried him into the vet’s bailiwick.

People can be very kind to humans who are in distress, but they are doubly so with animals. Animals aren’t as informed nor is there the communication between the human and the animal.

In his house, Rip slept next to the dog that night. He wakened every couple of hours to give the dog water and made sure the dog was all right. This man was a loner. He had no real use for the rest of the population.

Well, he had gone out to help find a lost person more than that one time. But he never had much compassion for any of them. They’d been stupid. If they’d paid attention to just the basics of logical thinking, they would have never gotten in the binds in which they’d managed to trap themselves.

Rip called the hospital the next morning and said, “Tell what’s his name, that the Keepers’ crew found out on the plain, that his dog’s doing fine.”

And the snippy nurse asked, “Is this Rip Morris?”

“Yeah.”

“The person’s name is Andrew Parsons. He is doing as well as can be expected. He’s still rather fragile right now—”

“Just tell ’im his dog’s okay.”

“—and his sister’s here. She’s really grateful to you for finding him. She wants to thank you.”

“Tell her she’s welcome to the damned fool. The dog is smarter and worth more than the dumb nut you’ve got to save.”

The nurse sassed, “You tend to be somewhat prejudiced and opinionated.”

“Knowing that, saves you.”

And the snippy nurse said in a very prissy manner, “If we could get through the quagmire of lurid magazines and reach what is left of the core of your altered brain, we might make some headway in civilizing you.”

“I don’t read something as mild as that.”

“You need help.”

“Naw. Tell the pilgrim his dog’s okay. That’ll give him something to think about. Don’t mention the horse is dead as yet. He killed it, taking it out there. It looked like a good horse, too. The dumb bastard.”

And the snippy nurse retorted, “You need therapy.”

“What kind?”

“Not what you’re thinking.” And she hung up.

That didn’t bother Rip one bit. He was used to women hanging up on him...after they’d called him all sweet and honey. But he didn’t want a female who was all sweetness and honey. He wanted a woman. He wanted a woman who was different from what he’d known. He wanted a partner.

He hated gigglers. He hated tart and snippy women. Why couldn’t women be more like men? Not that he could be lured by any man. He just wanted a female who had the logic and straightforwardness of the male thinking. A woman who could handle a surprise mouse without shrieking and carrying on from the top of the table. Was that asking too much?

Rip simply could not tolerate a vapid woman whose mind was lost in materials and colors and clever food bits. A woman like that, irritated him.

So it was about three days later, and he still hadn’t shaved. Rip had an okay from the vet, so he took the dog to the humans’ hospital. He did that so the man, Andrew Parsons, might understand the dog was okay. However, it was mostly so that the anxious dog could see the man. A fly head, like that man, was a heavy responsibility for any dog.

Rip took a silent, patient breath when he realized the stupid nurse was there. But then she said, “His sister would like to see you.”

Hell.

He’d thought, at that time of the morning, visitors wouldn’t be underfoot. It was for the dog that he was there. The dog was superior. But he was restless and anxious.

Why on earth had the dog gotten tangled up with an owner who was so stupid? Poor dog. Just maybe, the man would allow Rip to take the dog off his hands. If not permanently, at least getting away for a while from the pilgrim would be a respite for the dog.

There was the snippy nurse saying, “—and this is Rip Morris” to a woman who had just approached them.

Rip looked at the pilgrim’s sister with naked eyes of shock. The sun-squint lines beside his eyes disappeared and there were the white lines that had been hidden by the sun squint. His lips parted, and he looked vulnerable. He was.

Rip had not heard her name.

The woman held out her hand and her handshake was a good firm one that didn’t tickle or rub or flirt. Her hand was small but her grip was just right. So were her eyes.

The irises were blue and she wore a hell of a lot of mascara or she’d had those false eyelashes planted. If she blinked the wind from those lashes might knock him back a step. He said, “How do you do.” No question. She needn’t reply.

Then he realized she wasn’t interested in him. Thank God for that. Women tended to be pushy.

She was saying, “—first there. Thank you.”

He nodded. She wasn’t moving her body to call attention to herself. She was just talking about her brother.

Because it had baffled them all, Rip asked the sister, “Why was he out there?”

“I haven’t heard.” That’s what she replied. She did not expand on it. She wasn’t particularly interested in visiting. She just wanted to thank the first person there who had helped her stupid brother.

Of course, she didn’t call her brother stupid. That was only Rip’s I.D. for him. Rip asked again, “Why the hell was he out there all alone, on that plain? The grass was too low even for grazing. Who the hell would be out that way if he got in trouble?”

“You were.”

“That’s only because the dog came limping in, and Tom Keeper called me.”

And she said in a level manner, “Oh. Then it’s Tom Keeper whom I must thank.”

Somehow that stuck in Rip’s craw. “I’ll pass the word along.”

“How nice.”

Rip frowned at her. Snippy. Who cared what she was? Not him. He took the dog over to the hospital bed and told the nurse, “He’s had a bath and been defleaed.”

She grinned.

Now that’s how women were supposed to react. But his face didn’t smile nor did he look at the nurse. He looked at the man on the bed. Andrew Parsons. He looked like a parson from olden times. Probably was a descendant of one. He told the silent man, “Your dog is here to see to you. Open your eyes and look at him so’s he’ll know you’re okay.”

The nurse protested, “He’s drug—”

But with some effort, Andrew opened his eyes and his head turned very, very slowly. The dog put his paws on the side of the bed and he made an anxious throat sound.

Andrew’s hand came slowly, slowly up and sideways until it touched the dog’s neck.

The dog licked Andrew’s hand, the nurse gasped and reached, but Rip’s hands stopped her and he wouldn’t let her go.

She was furious, but she looked up at Rip who was simply watching the dog. So she did also, and the dog licked the man’s hand again.

Rip murmured to the nurse, “Good, clean dog spit.”

She shuddered.

But there was the slightest smile on Andrew’s face. His eyes closed. There was a long exhale of breath and his body seemed to dissolve. There were several gasps there in the room. All female.

Rip looked at the sister. She was watching her brother intently. The nurse took Andrew’s wrist and felt the heartbeat She’d thought he’d died. His breathing was so slow. But it was steady. He had sunk down into deep sleep.

The dog looked at Rip. He told the dog, “He’s okay. You can stay fifteen minutes, then we’ll go home and you can come back this afternoon.”

Rip was actually letting the nurse know how he was going to let the dog come visit. She took a protesting breath, but the floor doctor was at the door.

The doctor came inside the room and took up Andrew’s wrist. The doctor didn’t push the dog aside but left him with his forefeet on the side of the bed.

The doctor lifted one of Andrew’s eyelids and listened to his breaths, then he said, “He’s sleeping very nicely. He needs to sleep. This has been a very tough time.” Then he turned to Rip and smiled. And he said, “Thank you for bringing his dog up. Do it again this afternoon. Andrew has been restless and frowning. Obviously, he’s been worried about the dog. Knowing the dog is all right, Andrew will rest better.”

“When’s the best time?” That was Rip’s response to the obvious logic.

“We’ll stimulate him and shift him. We’ll wake him about two. Come then.”

“Okay.”

“—and bring the dog.”

“Off course.”

As Rip left the room with the dog, the patient’s sister followed. She had not protested the dog or the man, and it was now that she said, “Thank you for bringing Buddy along.”

“So that’s his name?” Rip found himself looking at the snippy woman. She was a looker without doing anything about it. She didn’t have on any makeup other than those eyelashes and her hair was casual.

She said, “Andrew and Buddy are good friends... buddies.”

“That’s why the dog went looking for help.”

“Is that how you found him?”

“The son of our boss, Tom Keeper, saw the dog first. He sent out the alarm. He was on horseback. I had a plane. I took Buddy and flew low and we found him...Andrew.” And again Rip asked, “What the hell was Andrew doing out in that territory?”

“I have no idea.”

About then, the doctor came up the corridor and smiled as he said, “There’s a boy who should see Buddy. Would you mind taking a little more time?”

Being a loner, visiting wasn’t one of the things Rip chose to do. But how could he refuse when he knew the dog was a curious creature? Actually, the dog was nosy. So Rip said to the doctor, “Lead the way.”

The thing that surprised Rip most was that the sister... whose name he hadn’t heard... was following. She must be bored just sitting next to her sleeping brother. But then, what good would that do, just sitting by a man who was entirely out of it?

So what’s-her-name went along. She had a good, easy walk.

The doctor told Rip, “There’s a very lonely boy whose home is a long way from here. He has brothers and sisters who call him, but he doesn’t have any visitors. He, too, has a bad leg. But his is broken.”

The boy’s name was Chuck. He lay in bed with his leg elevated somewhat by a complicated bunch of wires. He was pale and very quiet. He was watching TV.

In an aside, the doctor said to Rip, “Thank God for TV children’s shows.”

Two nurses said softly, “Amen.”

Andrew’s sister asked, “But do the kids get together and watch?”

The doctor nodded. “Those who can walk. Some of them come here, if they’re not too ill.”

The doctor went in the boy’s room. “Hello, Chuck. May I bring in a friend?”

The boy turned his head slowly. “Yeah.”

And the dog came in alertly, looking. Did he expect to see Andrew again? He put his feet up against the high bed and looked at the patient.

The boy was delighted! “Hello!” he exclaimed. “How’d you get inside?”

And the doctor said, “His master is in the hospital. He’s asleep. The dog’s name is Buddy. I thought you might like to know him.”

Chuck smiled and put out his hand. The dog, Buddy, gave the boy’s hand a lick, and Chuck smiled as he petted the dog.

It was a nice thing to watch. But the doctor had to leave and did so quietly.

The nurse said to Chuck, “Don’t put your hand on your face or in your mouth until I’ve washed it.”

They all laughed, but the important laugh was Chuck’s.

After fifteen minutes, the nurse in charge reluctantly signaled Rip to leave. Rip told Chuck, “We’ll see you this afternoon.”

Another visit from the dog was something for the boy to anticipate.

The nurses were charming in their goodbyes.

Andrew’s sister watched those people leave before she said to Rip, “Thank you for coming. Andrew will be so glad to see Buddy again this afternoon. I know keeping the dog and bringing him here takes your time. Is Buddy a problem for you?”

“Naw. He just goes along with me. He likes flying.”

She actually looked at him as she asked, “What sort of flying do you do?”

He returned her look, and he found he liked the way she watched him. He told her, “I look at crops, at the height of grasses, for vans that are off the highway and could be rustlers after cattle...and I look for people who don’t have cellular phones and can be lost.”

She watched him soberly. “...or trapped under a dead horse.”

“I mostly look for our guys. Andrew is my first foreigner.” Well, he wasn’t from another land, so Rip added, “A nonresident...trespasser.” His tongue just added that. It was true. Andrew hadn’t had permission to trod on acreage that was private land.

Andrew’s sister guessed, “He was where he wasn’t supposed to be?”

“Exactly.” Then without his permission, Rip’s tongue just went on, “He could have gone to any highway rest stop and inquired as to how he might go anywhere. There are state cops at almost all the rest stops. They give information. Nobody intrudes on private lands. And to go over a fence and out on the lands and get lost is a great nuisance for the owners and crews on the places. It takes our time and concern. We are busy people.”

“How are you managing?” She gestured. Then, realizing that wasn’t enough, she added, “Coming here and taking care of Buddy?”

Rip looked at Andrew’s sister and thought it was probably a good thing he didn’t know her name. She lured him. He didn’t want that kind of serious, unknowing lure. He sighed and said, “I manage. He’s a good dog. My boss gives me the time to bring him to see the pilgrim.” He almost instantly bit his lip.

“Pilgrim?”

It was not a kind name. Rip had used it to mean a person who’d landed where nobody wanted him. So Rip said, “Uhhh. Well, he was new to us.”

Andrew’s sister nodded. Then she said, “If anything... changes...I could call you and save you the time coming into town. Is there a phone number where I can reach you?”

He asked, “What’s your name?”

“Lu.”

Thoughtfully tilting his head back, Rip questioned, “Wasn’t there a song about a lady named Lu?”

“Probably. My dad named me. He’s a...different person. He baffles my mother.”

Without any warning, Rip found himself blurting, “I never knew my parents.” His teeth went back into his lower lip. They should have stayed there.

Lu guessed. “You left home as soon as you could.”

“Yeah.” They’d left him. He watched her a minute with his eyes slitted. He’d never given his phone number to any woman. “Don’t you give my number to anybody, do you hear me?”

She began to smile. “Women throw themselves in front of your car?”

“Any man gets tired of being hounded.”

“Hounded.” She tasted the word. Then she inquired with the slightest smile, “You’re implying women are...hounds?”

Rip slowly shook his head, as he said very seriously, “Not all of them. Some really good women live in this world.”

She was curious about his replies so she asked, “But there are...females who...hound you?”

Rip shrugged logically. “—and there’re the male variety of—hounds,” he admitted. “I’m one every now and again.” He watched her. He became aware that she was tired and had been concerned and worried about that stupid brother of hers. “You got a place here to stay that’s convenient?”

“Yes. Just down the block, there’s a hospice. This hospital services a large area.”

“Yeah. People like Chuck who come a long way.”

“He’s a nice little boy. I met his mother.”

“How’d you do that?”

“I can’t just sit in Andrew’s room. So these last few days, I’ve helped out... distributed books, that sort of thing.”

Rip didn’t verbally praise her but his smile was a benediction. He gave her his phone number. Just doing that, wobbled him. He told her, “Remember, you don’t give that to anybody, do you hear me?”

Very seriously she replied, “I’ll have a blind tattooer put it on my body in a discreet place.”

Rip groused, “And you’ll tell him what to tattoo. He’ll know the number.”

She licked her smile. “I’ll do the tattooing. He won’t have a clue.”

Rip tilted his head back and squinted his eyes. “Where you gonna put my number?”

“No one will ever know.”

“Remember to burn the paper.”

“Of course.”

Again Rip squinted his eyes at her and asked softly, “How you gonna see the number if you’re in public?”

She considered. “Be sure the telephone booth door is closed?”

“That’s when the light goes on. When the door’s closed.” He watched her more closely.

“I’ll find a private phone, if it’s important to call you.”

“Oh.” He studied her with a serious face. “I thought you just meant that you’d want to talk to me.”

“No,” she reminded him. “The phone number is because I might need to cancel you coming here if Andrew is out of it or something like that.”

“Well.” He hesitated and looked around rather stubbornly. “I thought you were interested in... uh...the boy.”

“Chuck.”

“Yeah. Him. Don’t you think it’s important for Buddy to come visit the kid? Even if your brother’s out, the kid might like to see Buddy.”

She considered that quite seriously and finally nodded just a tad. “You could be right.”

“So we’ll see you this afternoon. Uh. You wanna go out for lunch?”

“With the dog?”

“We can go to a drive-in.”

“I don’t think I can even look at another hamburger”

“There’re drive-ins that have Mexican food.”

“Anything else?”

“Soup?”

“My stomach might accept soup.”

He considered her with a still face. He understood that she loved her brother. Her stomach was scared over him and she was having trouble eating. He’d take her to Marge’s. She’d get the soup.

Well, Marge was in a tizzy with Rip’s phone call. Rip was bringing a woman to her stand for soup! He was bringing along a woman! For Pete’s sakes alive, who’d ever believe that Rip would bring a woman out at noon! What the hell was happening?

And there he came in his pickup. He had a dog with him and a woman. She was there! A woman in broad daylight! And she looked like a normal woman. No exotic makeup, all smeared. Her clothes were simple and rather blah. What was happening to Rip!

The woman was kin? She was someone else’s wife? He was responsible for some guy’s wife? Or lover? The woman didn’t look like a lover. She looked more like she’d been pulled through a knothole. She looked tired and quite pale.

So Marge figured they’d been in bed together for at least a day or two. It made Marge a little jealous. She called out to her husband, Hank. He needed to see what could happen between couples.

Marge said to the pale woman when she and Rip walked in, “I’m Marge. This here’s my husband, Hank.”

The pale woman said, “How do you do?”

She was a lady. Marge knew that right away, but what in the world was Rip doing with a lady, for Pete’s sake? If he stayed around something like her for very long he’d be ruined!

Rip told Hank, who was the real cook in the place, “How about some kind of gentle soup for her?” Then wanting to make an impression on Lu, he added kindly, “She’s been through a lot these last several days.”

Marge knew it! The two had been holed up in Rip’s bed all that while and the woman was starving! It was no wonder that she looked so tired.

Marge looked over at Rip with a serious frown for such a greedy man, but her wrinkled face smoothed out and she smiled just a little. No woman would complain, even after being in bed with Rip for three days running. Three days of being moved around on a bed by him. Ahhh. He was really something.

Marge smiled at the woman and asked softly, “You okay?”

And the woman replied, “I’m fine.”

Marge laughed. Any woman would’ve answered thata way.

But Marge’s laughing response made Lu blink. What could be so amusing about having a brother in a hospital?

The soup came with crackers and there was a glass of milk. As anyone would, Rip had two hamburgers and a beer. On the side he asked for a double patty of raw meat with milk.

Hank was forced to inquire, “That raw meat help?”

Marge immediately knew Hank was aware the couple had spent three days in bed together, and—

Rip mentioned kindly, “The dog’s in the truck. He needs food just like the rest of us.”

Marge understood the dog had been neglected during that three-day bed marathon. She said to Rip, “Next time you two get together, bring the dog here, and we’ll take care of him.”

That left the couple blank-faced. Although male and female, their faces were very similar. While Rip’s eyes squinted a little as he tried to understand Marge’s offer, Lu just went back to her soup. She’d found West TEXANS were a little strange and there was no purpose in trying to sort them out and finding a way to understand them. She’d be back home in East TEXAS by then.