I was already angry at him. I wasn't asking him to read my mind, just read the situation.
At that moment I hauled myself up in the saddle and dug my heels hard into Mojave's sides, making him grunt and my horse took off, leaving Gerry standing there. I headed back the way we came at a flat-out gallop, and I could feel the tears start. As they ran down my face, they stung like icicles on my cheeks in the wind and the cold. I looked to the side and saw my dog keeping pace with my horse.
I came up over the rise, I slowed around the edge of the trees and saw the hay barn. As I loped closer to the barn, suddenly a dog ran out of the wood, stopping suddenly and spooked my horse who lurched away from it and then stopped, blowing steam out of his nose. Then I realized it wasn’t a dog, it was a coyote. The coyote was standing still, and I patted Mojave’s neck, calming him, attempting to make him stop dancing around even though he seemed nervous. Where was my dog? I felt my hip and realized that I hadn't brought my gun and then remembered I had not worn it at all today.
I heard the dog at my feet snarling and began to panic. “Dovie!” I whispered almost in a hissing yell, and she refused to look at me. “No! Sit!” The coyote began to walk slowly toward us and even though he was a good 50 feet away, I was terrified.
Dovie shocked me out of my thoughts when she barked with a snarl as shot rang out. I heard the coyote yelp and saw it fall. I looked and saw Gerry sitting there on his palomino who was dancing around, no doubt terrified of the noise from Gerry’s rifle. Gerry pointed his rifle up and walked his horse slowly over to the coyote’s carcass, as did my dog but I sat frozen. Gerry did a cursory examination of the dead animal, never leaving the saddle and then walked his horse over to me.
“Mare, where’s your gun?” he asked calmly.
“I…I forgot it,” I confessed, like a child.
“Don’t ever come out here without being strapped!” he barked.
I jerked Mo’s head and kicked him hard, riding around the tree line and out of Gerry’s sight and within a minute or so, turned into the hay barn, out of the wind and stopped just inside the door and began to cry in earnest. I slid out of the saddle and sat down hard on a bale of alfalfa, Dovie sitting at my feet and putting her nose under my hands, trying to get my attention that way.
Gerry would probably see the big, muddy footprints Mojave left leading right to me. I just felt like crying and doing it alone. It felt like an over-reaction but Gerry’s opinion of me was everything. He mocked me in front of Retta and then yelled at me; he’s never done that. I wondered if I were giving his yelling too much weight considering the circumstances of coming face to face with a wild animal.
My Lord, I’m acting like a 16-year-old girl, I thought as I put my head in the crook of my arm to wipe away the tears. I’m a grown woman with a business to run and about a dozen other irons in the fire and all I care about is if he is on my side.
I wiped the tears away and looked up and saw him there in the open barn doors, sitting astride Skip. He was so beautiful with the early morning sun behind him, his golden horse working his way over to a bale of hay, hooves clopping on the concrete next to Mojave. Gerry threw his leg over in front of him and slid off and came over and sat next to me on the hay.
“Oh, Mare,” he said, taking my hand and entwining his big fingers into mine.
“I’m sorry, Gerry, for being petty. Thank you…for saving us.”
“It’s okay Mare. I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have raised my voice. We may not be in the city anymore but it’s still dangerous.” I felt my hand shaking and Gerry look down at it in his and held it tighter. He waited a moment and then spoke, "I would never take sides against you, not with Retta, not with anyone. You’re my hero because you saved me, Wife.”
Excerpt from Marble Falls: The Homecoming of Gerry Frey available on Amazon and read for free on Kindle Unlimited. Copyright Mare Loch 2022 © All rights reserved.
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