Shaxoa's Gift (9 page)

“Lina, is there anything I can do for you?” I
asked, trying out her first name as she had requested. It felt
strange on my lips, but her smile lightened my spirit.

“You really don’t need to worry about doing
anything, Claire. It’s been a rough couple of days. Why don’t you
just sit down and relax for a while?”

Normally, relaxing would have sounded
wonderful. Normally, Uriah would have been around to enjoy it with
me. Without Uriah to fill the empty hours, only my mind would be
filled, not my arms.

“No, really, Mrs. Crowe, I want to help out.
I promised Sophia I would,” I said. Lina opened her mouth to
object, but I cut her off. “Besides, I need to do something to keep
my mind off…” I didn’t want to utter his name. The more I thought
of him the harder the feelings were to hold back. “It would be
better for me to keep busy,” I said finally.

Nodding with understanding, Lina considered
my request. “Sophia has most of the housework under control
already. Why don’t you go outside and see if Hale needs any
help?”

“Hale?” I questioned.

“Hale Dinmore has been helping out with the
animals since Uriah left. Sophia says he’s been doing a good job,
but it’s a lot of work for just one person,” Lina said. “I’m sure
he’d appreciate the help.”

“Of course,” I said quickly. I didn’t know
very much about sheep or crops two years ago, but Uriah had taught
me a lot about what it took to run his ranch since then. I had
always thought that it was because he was as sure I was that one
day we would work the ranch together as husband and wife. The
thought of feeding Uriah’s animals with Hale Dinmore was horribly
depressing, but I wouldn’t let Lina down.

“Sophia said she would take you over to your
parent’s house before dinner to get whatever you need,” Lina
said.

I noticed that she had said “your parent’s
house”, not “your house” or “home.” Lina wanted me here. Her
careful demeanor made it seem like she was perfectly fine, but I
could recognize the small cracks in her calm. Uriah had always
marveled at how well his mother was able to handle everything that
had happened to their family in the past year and a half, but she
was very careful not to show how much she was really hurting around
him.

A few months after Uriah’s father had died,
things seemed to be getting back to normal, even though Uriah was
still struggling with his grief and his new responsibilities to his
mom and the ranch. He had looked to his mom for an example of how
to move on with his life. She went through her days with a tempered
smile, but she didn’t shy away from talking about her husband or
reminding Uriah of the things he had taught him. Uriah believed
that his mother had already come to peace with losing her husband,
and did his best to follow her lead.

I had been out helping Uriah with a few
chores, but hurried back to the house to use the restroom. So
comfortable at Uriah’s house, I hadn’t bothered to knock before
bursting into the living room. I was shocked to find Lina sitting
on the couch sobbing. Thinking that something awful had happened, I
rushed to her side.

There had been no new problem. She had simply
still been mourning her husband just as much as Uriah had been
mourning his father. She had cried, telling me how much she missed
him, how hard it was to watch Uriah struggling to fill his father’s
shoes when he was still so young. I had done my best to comfort
her, but there was very little I could offer her. Before Notah
Crowe died, I had never lost anyone close to me. Every time I
thought about losing Uriah, it crushed me. I didn’t know how to
comfort her because I didn’t think anything would comfort me if I
were in her place.

Uriah had come back to the house, wondering
where I was, and found us hugging each other with tears in our
eyes. Lina had quickly stood up and left the room with a comment
about finishing the dishes. Uriah had asked me what was going on,
but I didn’t have the heart to explain. His mother had clearly not
wanted him to know how much she was still struggling. In the end, I
told him that we had been having a girl to girl talk and left it at
that.

Pushing the memory away, I said, “Thanks
again for letting me stay here, Lina. I’ll be outside if Sophia
needs my help with anything.”

“Thank you, Claire,” Lina said.

With a quick nod, I turned away and left the
living room for the hot summer afternoon and the hope that physical
exhaustion would dull the pull to run after Daniel.

8: Necessities

The sharp bleating of the sheep was a
comforting sound. Walking around the house, I smiled when the
corrals came into view. Simply seeing them made Uriah feel so much
closer. All through growing up I would dream of Daniel when I
slept, my silent friend who was always there. The dreams were
something I longed for before Uriah, but they were ephemeral, not a
part of the real world. The musky smells of animals, and gritty
sand that got in your shoes no matter how hard you tried to keep it
out, those were real. They were connected to Uriah and brought his
memory to the front of everything else. I stared out at the scene,
more grateful for the wooly creatures than I had ever been
before.

The sheep milled about, eating the thick
desert grasses. All but one. The solitary sheep was still in the
small corral closest to the house. Approaching the animal, I
squatted down to meet the curious creature’s face. It had been
sheared in the spring with the others, but its coat was already
beginning to grow back.

“Hello, Sage,” I said. I rubbed the sheep’s
head fondly. I couldn’t name every sheep in the herd like Uriah or
his mother could, but I knew this one. Sage was the sheep that had
gotten sick right before a rock climbing trip to El Rito just over
a week ago. Uriah had been forced to stay behind and wait for the
vet, but had thankfully arrived just in time to keep me from
breaking my legs, or worse, when I fell during my first climb. I
rubbed my elbow where several scabs and bruises were still trying
to heal.

Sage nuzzled my fingers looking for a snack.
“I’m sorry, little one, but I don’t have anything for you right
now. Maybe I can bring you a treat later,” I said. Sage was
recovering without any problem, but the vet had insisted that she
be kept away from the rest of the flock until he came back to check
on her. Knowing Dr. Harris, the slow moving seventy-eight-year-old
veterinarian, he may not make it back to check on Sage for a
while.

Standing up, I searched the land for Hale.
All I saw was the pale sand spotted with clumps of desert grasses
and low evergreen juniper trees. Taking my search farther away from
the house, I spotted Hale working next to the large corral. Giving
Sage a pat goodbye I walked over to him. Hearing my footsteps, he
looked up in surprise. Four years older than me, Hale and I had
never really spoken much. His younger sister, Anna, graduated a
year ago, and last I heard was going to school in California. I
wondered if Hale was home visiting for the summer or back in San
Juan for good.

“Claire?” he asked. “I thought you were sick
or something.”

“I’m feeling a lot better, thank you,” I
said. I wondered how long what had happened in the past few days
would go unnoticed. Small towns weren’t known for keeping
secrets.

“Is Uriah back?” Hale asked. He glanced
around the ranch, taking in all the work he had been enlisted to
do. The hopeful note in his voice was easy to pick out.

“No, not yet,” I said. I bit the inside of my
cheek to hold off the familiar pang of fear and regret. The
metallic taste of blood dripped onto my tongue before I finally
relaxed my jaw. It took a few more seconds before I was able to
speak again. “He was here last night for a few minutes, but he had
to leave again. He’ll be back soon.”

Glancing around, I was quick to change the
subject. I asked, “Do you need any help?”

“Yeah, sure,” Hale said. He held up a large
baby bottle with a tough rubber nipple. “I can’t get this lamb to
take its bottle. Have you ever done this before?”

I smiled. Uriah had taught me how to bottle
feed a lamb what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Yeah, I have. You
want me to try?” I asked.

Hale tossed me the bottle with a grateful
sigh. “I’m going to muck out the stalls if you don’t mind.”

“No problem, Hale,” I said. As much as I
loved horses, I would choose bottle feeding lambs over mucking
stalls any day. Climbing over the split rail fence, I sat down next
to the rambunctious lamb. She bleated and stamped her feet
playfully.

“Come here, Ayashe, you rascal.” In one
smooth motion I slipped my arms around her waist, and pulled her
close to me. She struggled to get away, not wanting to be calm for
me like she usually was with Uriah. Unless I was with him, of
course. None of the animals behaved for Uriah if I was around.
Well, that wasn’t true. If I was just standing near him everything
was fine, but if I happened to touch Uriah everything turned
chaotic right away. Neither of us could explain it. I wanted to,
along with a list of other oddities, but Uriah took the approach of
simply pretending it wasn’t true. Ayashe butted into me and
interrupted my thoughts.

“Ayashe,” I said, “settle down and drink your
milk or Uriah will be very upset with you.”

Hearing Uriah’s name calmed the lamb at once.
The little lamb finally decided to give in. Sucking noisily on the
wrong end of the plastic container, she hungrily chomped at the
bottle. I settled Ayashe on my lap and lifted the nipple her lips.
Her name meant “little one”, but she had been a big handful from
the day she was born. Her mother had lambed twins, and little
Ayashe had been the one to get pushed away. Maybe she was still a
little put off at being neglected.

Sitting with the little lamb, I found it
somewhat easier to force away thoughts of Daniel. Stroking the soft
wool made me think of Uriah’s gentle hands. Only a few months
earlier he had gently sheared the adult sheep of their winter coats
before the new lambs were born. He had told me once how scared he
was the first time his father let him use the electric shears.

He said that his hands shook so badly that
he’d been sure he would cut the poor animal’s skin rather than just
its wool. Finishing the spring shearing after his dad’s death had
made Uriah just as nervous as his first attempt. I had done my best
to help Uriah shear the sheep that had been left when Uriah’s dad
had a heart attack. I had stood by practically helpless the year
before as I watched Uriah and his dad do most of the work. This
time I had been able to be more helpful, actually holding the sheep
in place while Uriah sheared them, a fact that I was very proud of.
By next spring I would be ready to do whatever Uriah needed me to
do.

The bottle empty, Ayashe bounded away to join
the other lambs. Her warmth was immediately missed as Daniel
pounded back into my mind. She had helped me hold my focus on
Uriah. As she distanced herself from me, the bond found my weakness
and started worming its way in deeper. I looked up at the sun,
hoping it would burn away the unwanted feelings, but my gaze
stopped halfway up. A form stood on the horizon.

Daniel. I saw him walking across the field
toward me. I panicked, scrambling backwards into the rough fence
posts. Cole would never have brought him back. Had he slipped away
and found his way back to San Juan? I couldn’t take my eyes off of
him, no matter how much I wanted to. I tried to climb over the
fence, but not being able to look back, I only got tangled up and
fell. I jumped up, hoping he hadn’t come any closer, only to find
that he had disappeared.

The field was completely bare. There was no
Daniel. There never had been. I wiped away dirty tears and
shuddered with relief. I was too shaken by the shock to be
embarrassed by my reaction, but I hoped no one had seen me. If
anyone had just witnessed that display, I was sure my sanity would
start to be questioned.

I stood up and dusted myself off, more than
ready to delve into some physical labor. Most likely Hale was still
in the stables. If I was still getting used to taking care of
sheep, I was well acquainted with caring for horses. I felt a
momentary stab of guilt as I thought of my own horses, Daisy and
Dusty. Surely my mother would make sure my beautiful mares were
being cared for. Uriah’s horses needed me more than my own did. I
walked toward the weathered barn, ready to haul soiled hay and
manure.

The work was slow, but demanding, which I was
thankful for. The physical labor took my mind off the things I
didn’t want to think about, and being surrounded by memories of
Uriah kept me focused on what was most important. The desert sun
was still far from setting, but the growling noise my stomach made
told me it was getting close to dinnertime. Sophia was supposed to
take me to get my things from my house soon.

Hale and I finished the last of the chores
and parted ways. His sedan was already pulling away when I touched
the door of Uriah’s home. Really wanting some clean clothes, I
pushed the door open. Greeted by the aroma of Sophia's cooking, I
honestly felt hungry for the first time since waking up. I could
smell the distinct flavor of Hatch green chile, and hoped it meant
there were chicken enchiladas in the oven.

Sophia came into the living room from the
back bedroom. “Are you ready to go?” she asked.

Glancing down at my soiled clothes, I
shrugged. There was little I could do to look any better. “I guess
so.”

I was dreading going back to my house. I
wasn’t ready to see my dad. I was still furious with him, of
course, but I had no idea what to say to him, either. What do you
say to someone who had nearly killed you? I was battling so many
emotions that I just didn’t think I could stand to add one more. I
wanted to put my anger aside and give all my attention to
remembering every second since Uriah saved me from Jonny Begay’s
fist on the riverbank.