The Lone Texan

The woman sighed. “I’ve probably upset you. Everybody tells me to be quiet. I just go right on and talk every damned time, and I always mess it up. I am sorry if I’ve upset you—”

“You’ve been very kind. Don’t fret.”

The woman accepted that with a big smile. “You’ll be okay. Everything has its—My God, I’m talking again and I ought to just shut up.”

“Are you married?”

“Naw, but I’m susceptible, and I got three kids. Nice kids. They’re independent and sassy and we argue most of the time.”

“I’d bet they’re darling.”

“Mostly—strange. A couple of them, I don’t know for sure who’s their daddies.”

Plural? Daddies? That woman? She must be a very willing—partner.

Ellen considered the woman. She was so open and easy. But then Ellen considered herself, and her foolish acceptance of a man who really hadn’t wanted her—permanently. He’d only wanted to taste her. No. To use her.

There was no difference between herself and this woman who was so kindly helping her. As Kipling wrote, “For the Colonel’s Lady an’ Judy O’Grady are sisters under their skins.” Women are women. There is no difference.

With a token tap on the door frame, Mrs. Keeper came into the room. She helped the other woman remove the needle in Ellen’s arm. Mina Keeper smiled and said to Ellen, “You get ice cream. Which kind do you prefer?”

“I don’t believe I care for any right now.”

The brawn-armed woman put in, “You get a spoonful You can handle that.”

Ellen discarded doing anything as she said, “I’ll see.”

The woman whose name Ellen did not know put in cheerfully to Mrs. Keeper, “That sounds like she’s considering.”

Mina Keeper told that person, “Well, Ciggie, we’ll just fool her and make her beg for what’s left after we eat what all we want.”

Mrs. Keeper had called the woman—Ciggie.

Ciggie laughed with real delight. “We get all the ice cream?”

“We can’t throw it away.”

Ellen gave up. “I’ll take—”

But Mina sighed. “We’ll just have to...”

Ellen was a tad irritated and strident, “I said—”

But Mina finished her sentence, “—eat it all.”

Ellen became pushy and somewhat annoyed, “I said I’d eat those first two spoonfuls.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Keeper was astonished. “Would you like a taste?”

“You are speaking of ice cream?”

“Why...yes.” So innocent. Good grief.

Ciggie laughed.

Mina gave the invalid a skimpy two spoonfuls on a tiny plate, while their bowls were enormous!

However, Ellen never did get to see exactly how much they’d actually had, but the two greedy ones licked their lips and made sounds that were not at all necessary!

Then Mrs. Keeper said offhandedly to Ciggie, “I suppose if we’re not going to make her ill watching us be this greedy, we really ought to go out into the hall.”

Over Ellen’s courteous protest, the two just went on out of the room. And Ellen could hear the sound of the spoons in the bowls and the almost silent chitchat and laughter of the two women.

Very irritating. Really, very irritating.

It wasn’t until later that Ellen heard why Ciggie and not a doctor had disconnected Ellen from the intravenous bottle. It seemed some man on the Place had interfered with a bull for some reason, which had annoyed the bull, and the hand’s stomach had been ripped open.

The medical team had done the adjusting of the organs and the sewing of the skin. The medics had found the surgery very interesting. The victim was not that pleased.

In just a short time, Ellen began to see and hear all the different things that happened on the ranch. No day was dull. The senior Mr. Keeper sighed with irritation and mentioned to Ellen, “You’d think people would have a little care for themselves!”

He’d said that to a woman who’d been ignoring herself? Her fragile body? Someone who hadn’t given one damn for anything?

It fascinated Ellen to hear someone like a Keeper be furious and very vocal about carelessness. John Keeper was really irritated. And as he blew off temper, he was looking at her!

Was he chiding Ellen, or was he explaining stupidity, or was he just scared that somebody he liked had been hurt?

Ellen thought of her mother. She remembered looking at her mother and seeing her fury with her stupid daughter. And her daddy was there, and he’d hushed his wife. His hand on his wife had been gentle and he’d tried to calm her.

Then he’d turned his hurting eyes to his daughter—

Ellen couldn’t think about that right then. She might never think of it again.

With Ellen more fragile than they’d first thought, it was the next day the two—Mina and Ciggie—came and said to Ellen, “You’re to get up now and go out onto the porch to sit in a rocker and stare at the beauty of the Place.”

“I believe I’ll sleep a while.” That was kindly said and logical.

Mrs. Keeper told her, “The doctor said you are not to sleep during the day, you are to wait for the night. You must get up and move about.”

Ellen breathed several times in revolt as she was old enough to do that, but she said, “Yes.”

Mrs. Keeper simply looked at her as she would any guest who was difficult and she said, “Ciggie will assist you in rising. She will guide you out to the porch. She will give you a layout of the house and grounds where you will walk. You’ll do that until you get used to the place, then you can ride farther.”

That wasn’t suggestion, it was direction. It had the very strong sense of her mother and father. However, Ellen was not someone these persons could direct. She was a free soul. She could do as she chose.

“Since you have all that water sloshing around inside you, Ciggie will take you to the bathroom first.”

“I can take myself.”