After the Rain (14 page)

They gathered their gear from the back. My dad pulled on a pair of wader overalls and my uncle handed me a pole. We got to the stream and I watched my dad, completely oblivious to everyone else, walk out into the middle of the water and begin casting his fly rod. “He needs this,” my uncle said to me. “Probably more than he’d like to admit it.”

“I know. He’s under a lot of pressure at the hospital.”

“I hear you’re in a bit of a mess yourself?”

My uncle began casting, using one hand to pull the slack as the other whipped the fly line off the top of the water, letting the fly lure flick against the surface over and over.

“I think it’ll all be okay. We would have heard something by now.”

“All I’m trying to say, Nate, is that you may need a little more of this in your life, too.”

“I know. I’ve been looking at other hospitals. I’m thinking about getting out of L.A.” I wasn’t ready to tell my father but I knew Dale would understand.

“It’s why I’m here, kid. There are horses everywhere and I lived in the city long enough before. It doesn’t make you any smarter living in the city. If anything, you start to lose sight of the important things when the big buildings are always crowding your view. Trisha and I decided a long time ago that we wanted to live in a place where we could see the sky stretch from one horizon to the other. It’s important to know how small you are.”

“I can’t say I don’t agree with you, but why is Ava still on the ranch? It doesn’t seem like the right place for a young, single girl.”

“She works there. That’s her job, plus she has room and board. And she’s not a single girl, she’s a widow.” There was a rough edge to his voice.

“Maybe she feels like she has nowhere else to go.”

“She had options. Her brother’s some high-powered attorney in New York City. He came out after Jake . . . you know . . .”

“Killed himself.”

“Yeah. Her brother came out to take her back to New York with him and she fought to stay. She didn’t want to leave. Redman said he’d pay for her to go to Spain to see her
mom and she refused. She loves the horses, and that’s pretty much all she’s got, besides us.”

“That girl back at the other ranch called Ava a freak. Why?”

He let out a big breath. “Well, Ava keeps to herself and mostly talks to the horses. Not too friendly with people.”

“You all talk to the horses.”

“True.” He laughed and stopped quickly. “She was in Bozeman one night for the rodeo and got drunk at the bar and made a bit of a scene.”

I squinted, shaking my head. “What? No. What do you mean?” That didn’t sound like Ava.

“There was an incident with a guy, you know, a roper who had come into town. There’s a festival and rodeo down in Bozeman every year, and she had met him there and then got a little fixated on him. He looked just like Jake and rode his horse the same way, with a bit of arrogance and showmanship.”

“So what, she slept with him?” Saying the words made my stomach ache, but Ava was a grown woman who had been through a lot. There was little Dale could say that would taint my view of her.

“No, he was married and kept his distance, but she sure as hell tried. She ended up drunk at Pete’s, beggin’ him and talking all kinds of nonsense.”

“She was grieving. No one had any sympathy for her?”

“We all do, Nate. We knew Jake before the accident. We knew what a good man he was. Ava and Jake were so in love and so happy. He was playful with her, he doted on her, but a lot of his confidence was based on being a certain kind of man. After the accident, I think Jake felt like less of a man, so he got really mean with her. He would beat her
sometimes and was verbally awful to her. Everyone saw this and couldn’t understand why Ava stuck around. She would go into town with split lips and both eyes swollen.”

I winced. “Jesus.” I had no idea it had gotten that bad, and I was surprised that Ava would have put up with it. It was becoming more and more clear to me that she had given Jake everything, even staying loyal to him after he had become a monster. The heartbreak she must have felt after what she had already endured would be overwhelming for anyone. I knew it would take a lot to open her up again but I also knew I wanted to try. I hoped that I wasn’t kidding myself or trying to fill some void of my own. “So what happened, Dale?”

“I guess when she followed that guy to the bar she was really far gone. She kept calling him Jake. She told him he could hit her if he would hold her after.”

I sucked a breath of air in through my teeth. The last part gutted me. I felt terrible for her.

Dale continued. “The bartender called Red and he had to get her at two in the morning.”

“My god. Does she need help?” I couldn’t understand why they never urged her to see a therapist.

“We’re all giving her love, and she has come a long way. That might be hard to believe. Redman keeps trying to get her to go to church. I know that’s not your thing, Nate, but I think it would help her.”

“Believing that her dead husband will spend an eternity in hell after taking his own life might be a hard pill for her to swallow. Especially since he got injured trying to save her. I’m talking about professional help.”

“There’s no magic cure for this, Nate.”

“I know, but seeing someone, talking to someone in a
safe place, couldn’t hurt her either.” I was thoroughly determined to convince him.

“You have a point,” he said. “And it might also give her a way to look outside of herself.” He looked up to the sky thoughtfully before continuing. “I think we’re all hoping something will bring her out of the fog. You seem to be helping, but now you have to go back.”

“I’ll be gone for a few days. I’ll have another week before my leave is up, if I even have a job still. Who knows, I might be applying as your vet assistant soon.”

“Well, I would love to have you,” he said instantly. “We could always use an extra long arm like yours around here.” Dale’s mouth broke into a teasing grin.

“Ha ha.”

My father came walking toward us with a trout flopping from his line. “Your dear old Dad’s still got it.”

My uncle shook his head. “In the middle of the day. I can’t believe it. You’re the luckiest son of a bitch.”

“Well, throw it back. We have a few hours before we get back to the ranch and there’s nowhere to put that thing until then.”

I watched as my father pried the lure from the inside of the fish’s mouth. Once it was out, he put the small fish in the shallow water and held it until it glided out of his hand and into the depths. He held up the lure. “Here son, the hopper. It’s my old faithful. You keep that one for yourself. Use it when you come back. It works every time.” He knew I couldn’t stay away.

I took it from his hands and held it up. “Thanks, Dad.” Being there with my dad was so unlike any experience I’d had with him in recent years. We stopped in a little pub for lunch on our way to R&W ranch. Dale asked my father
about work, which sent him into a twenty-minute description of a heart transplant he’d assisted on the week before. I stared up at the neon beer signs above the bar and tuned my father out while he talked. It was the first time I’d ever done that; usually I hung on his every word.

“Am I boring you, Nate?” He smiled but there was a serious edge to his voice.

“Not at all. I was just thinking about how nice it was to not talk about surgery for a while,” I said, a little edgy myself.

Dale crossed his arms and looked away. Without words, he basically said,
You two work this out
.

“You’re right, and that’s exactly why I thought it would be a good idea for you to come out here. Just tell me though, how’s your confidence? How do you feel about getting back to work?” His tone held true concern and I backed down.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much.”

“That’s a good sign.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I think so. Now, let’s get this kid an order of Rocky Mountain oysters and call it a day. Whaddya say, Dale?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fuck you guys, I’m not falling for that one.”

We all laughed and then my father slapped me on the back. “Glad to see you’re catching on.”

The sun was starting its descent as we made our way to R&W ranch. We drove up a dirt road on one side of the property, then Dale hopped out to drop off medications to someone near the barn. When he returned, we started heading down the opposite way we had come up.

“This road heads back to the ranch. Someone saw Ava’s truck and trailer down here by the barrels.”

When the land flattened, I could see a barrel track and
corral in the distance. As we got closer, the sun dropped behind the mountains. The light still flooding the sky turned cool and gray. Ava’s truck was parked next to the corral, but it wasn’t until we passed that we encountered a horrifying sight I would never forget.

Ava waved her arms at us to stop but we looked past her to the arena. We were speechless as we watched Dancer hop around frantically with a very visibly broken leg. Her back left leg below the knee joint was hanging off loosely and flopping around as she thrashed against the metal corral. We stopped and jumped out of the truck.

The sound of Dancer’s bridle clinking against the bars drowned out all other sounds. The other horse, the black filly, was saddled and tied to a post nearby. She vocalized and swished her tail, clearly distressed by the scene playing out in front of us. Dale approached Ava first. He yelled something at her but she pushed him and ran toward the truck, her face red from exhaustion. I yelled to her but she didn’t stop.

Dale came running after her. “Ava, don’t do that, please.”

She didn’t respond to Dale or acknowledge my father or me. She walked past us, to the back passenger door of Dale’s truck, pulled the seat forward, and removed a .22-caliber rifle. She loaded it and moved hurriedly toward the corral. We all followed as Dale tried desperately to make her stop.

“Ava, you may not hit the right spot. We can go back to the ranch, I’ll get the medicine and we can euthanize her the humane way.”

Holding the rifle to the ground, she turned and screamed, “There is nothing humane about that, Dale. It’ll take you at least an hour to get back here.”

“We might not need to put her down.”

“Look at her!” Her voice was so desperate and she was crying hysterically. “Look. At. HER!”

It was hard to look at Dancer. I couldn’t imagine how Ava was feeling.

“At least let me take the shot.”

She sniffled, wiped her face with the back of her hand, stood up straight, composing herself, and said, “No. I have to do it.”

She walked stoically into the corral and stood in front of Dancer, who was now on her belly, still thrashing against the aluminum posts. Ava lifted the weapon high and aimed right at the spot between Dancer’s ears. “Be still,” she said calmly. The horse immediately stopped moving. As unintelligent as I know horses are, there was a moment in Dancer’s stillness when I thought she knew Ava was trying to take her pain away. “Goodbye.”

She fired the gun.

The ringing of the shot echoed against the distant mountains, leaving a buzzing hum in my ears. Dancer’s body fell lifeless to the side. The kick from the rifle sent Ava stumbling back against a small shed in the corral behind her. She let loose one long sob before I went running toward her.

“Ava?” I said, but she didn’t turn around. She stood over Dancer’s body for several moments then leaned the rifle against the corral and slowly walked away. The three of us watched and waited to see what she would do.

Dale called to her, “Ava, come here, sweetheart. We’re so sorry.” She ignored him as she untied the filly from the post. Dale squared his shoulders and started walking quickly after her. We followed. “What are you gonna do, sweetie? Don’t get on that horse, please, Avelina.”

“I’m riding back,” she said as she hopped up into the saddle.

“It’s not a good idea. It’s almost dark and it’s far and that horse is un-broke.”

“She’s broke. She’s wearing a saddle with a rider in it, isn’t she?” Right at that moment the filly threw her head back. Ava yanked on the reins with both hands, reprimanding her.

“Ava, please don’t,” I said to her. “You’re not thinking straight.”

My dad even tried to plead with her. “It’s not safe, honey. Why don’t you get down? Nate can drive you back.”

I held my hand out to her but she looked away and pulled the reins, turning the horse in a circle. She gave the filly a swift kick and they were off, a black blur in the fading light.

“Jesus Christ,” Dale said. “She’s gonna get herself killed.”

“I think that’s what she wants.” My father’s words stung my ears.

“Are we gonna go after her?” I asked, feeling panic rise.

“She’ll stay off the road. The best we can do is get things taken care of with Dancer and then get back to the ranch.”

“God, poor Ava. She was just starting to come around,” I said. “Are we going to bury the horse?”

“No, we’ll call a company to come out here and remove her,” Dale said.

“I think we should bury her on the ranch so Ava will have a place to visit her.”

My father and Dale looked at each other like they were contemplating it. While I waited for an answer, I felt drop after drop of rain hit my skin until it started drizzling steadily. All the while I worried about Ava.

“Okay,” Dale said, finally. “I’ll have to run up and borrow Henry’s tractor.”

“I’ll stay here with Dancer,” I said firmly.

They drove up the hill and returned shortly with a big
tractor. We managed to get the horse into the front loader. “You’re gonna drive this thing back to the ranch, Nate, since this was your idea.”

“Okay,” I said with a curt nod. I had no idea what I was agreeing to. Dale took off ahead of us in Ava’s truck while my father followed me in Dale’s truck. The tractor would only go about twenty-five miles per hour. I essentially drove that thing with no headlights except for the light from my uncle’s truck behind me, in the freezing cold, pouring rain for fifteen miles down a country road with a dead horse in the front loader.

My uncle met us at the bottom of the driveway leading up to the ranch. “She’s okay,” he yelled over the loudness of the engine.