The Cattle Drive [The Armstrong Brothers of Cedar Creek] (Siren Publishing Classic) (27 page)

“Dad,” Henry quickly said.

“Not now, Henry,” Michael yelled, walking fast toward the camper.

As soon as the door slammed shut behind him, the yelling began.

* * * *

“Where in the hell have you been? I had the whole damn camp out looking for you,” he barked at her. Rachael just sat on the end of the bed and said nothing as she held her head in her hands. “Are you going to say something? You scared the hell out of me and everyone outside. Goddamn it, Rachael, say something!” he screamed, grabbing her arms and pulling her up to face him.

When Rachael looked at him, tears were falling from her eyes, and soon she started to cry uncontrollably. Michael released his grip on her and pulled her into him. “Where did you go, Rachael?” he said, trying to calm his anger.

Michael had seen many sides of Rachael, but this was a new one, and he didn’t like it. Fear and dread flooded him. He began to think the worst as she continued to cry. He wanted to help her, but she wasn’t saying anything. He hated to see her like this, and the waiting was unbearable.

Through her sobs, she finally began to speak. From what he could make out, he found that she took the truck and went into town. But when he asked why, she started crying even harder. Michael stayed with her until she cried herself to sleep. He covered her with the blankets and kissed her forehead.

Still frustrated and looking for answers, he left the camper to find the whole crew still awake, looking at him. Michael walked over to them, just as puzzled as they were.

“Well?” Brutus was the first to ask.

“She said she went into town?”

“Why?” Mason asked.

“I don’t know. She won’t say.”

“Women,” Mark said, grabbing his blanket and rolling over.

“Got that right,” Michael said, chuckling. “Well, boys, why don’t we take the day off tomorrow? You guys try and get some sleep,” Michael said. Then, looking at his watch, he added, “Four a.m. crew, mount up. See you guys back at six.”

With the guys heading back to bed, Michael walked back to the camper.

* * * *

Rachael spent the rest of the night fighting in her sleep, dreaming nightmare after nightmare.

Running through the fields, chasing a small child with long black hair, Rachael tried to catch the laughing child. Laughing and giggling, the little girl turned to her and smiled.

“Come on, Momma, catch me,” she sweetly said.

“I’m coming, sweetie, slow down,” Rachael said, reaching out for her.

The little girl disappeared, and the fog engulfed her.

Rachael was then standing on the side of the road, snow falling all around her, as she watched cars speeding past her. She watched a car blow a tire and skid out of control, coming to a complete stop on the side of the road. Then the loud screeching noise turned her attention to the semi that jackknifed, trying to avoid hitting the car. Then out of nowhere, a Mustang slammed into the tanker and exploded instantly. The trailer that was coming up too fast tried to avoid hitting the semi and rolled three times, ejecting a body from the truck. Then the fog was around her once again.

Rachael was back running through the fields, chasing a small child with long black hair, trying as hard as she could, never catching up with the laughing child, as the fog once again engulfed her.

She saw a man running over to the body on the snow-covered ground, trying desperately to help this person. She watched him scream and scream for help. The fog engulfed her again.

Rachael was running through the fields once again, chasing a man. She stopped and turned around to see the small child standing alone in the field, crying. She turned to look at the man, who was calling her name, looking from left to right, the child on one side, the man on the other. Rachael took one step toward the child, and a car came speeding through the fields, and as she turned, she saw the man’s eyes…Michael. But before she could warn him, the small child put her small hand in hers and said, “It’s okay, Momma, Daddy already knows.” Rachael bent down to pick up the child, and when she turned, the car slammed into the man and burst into flames.

Rachael screamed.

Rachael was screaming Michael’s name over and over. He shot up out of his quite sleep and grabbed her, trying to wake her. “Rachael, wake up, honey. Wake up,” he said, shaking her awake. Realizing it was just a dream, Rachael grabbed Michael and hugged him tightly and cried.

“Oh, honey, I wish you would talk to me. Please tell me what’s going on,” Michael said, holding her tightly. When she didn’t say anything, he just let it go, hoping that when she was ready, she would tell him. Until then, he would try everything he could think of to make her comfortable.

For the next two weeks, Rachael barely left the camper.

She slept on and off through the day, eating very little and having nightmares almost every night. Some nights she would sleep out of pure exhaustion, others, she would scream, waking Michael. After the first week, Matthew started giving her a sleeping pill to help her sleep, but eventually they didn’t work.

Those nights were horrible.

Michael was beginning to worry, along with the rest of the crew.

“How is she today?” Michael said, riding into camp from his shift with the herd.

“Still the same, Mikie. I need to take her to a hospital. She isn’t looking too good. I am beginning to think I didn’t get all the venom out,” Matthew said, handing his brother a cup of coffee.

“Well, we will be in Yuma in two days. Let’s give her till then. Maybe whatever is bothering her will pass. If it doesn’t, you and I can take her to the hospital. Till then, keep a close eye on her, okay.”

“Sure, Mikie. No problem,” he said, walking toward the camper.

* * * *

That night, Rachael woke up screaming again, this time waking the whole campsite. Before Michael could get her calmed down, Matthew came running into the camper carrying a syringe and quickly injected her with a sedative. Her screams subsided as she went limp in his arms.

“Okay, that’s it. Get the truck. We are leaving now!” Michael said, getting dressed. A couple of minutes later, Michael walked out of the camper carrying Rachael in his arms, wrapped up in several blankets. As he headed toward the truck, the camp stood quietly and watched. Michael gently placed her in the passenger seat and shut the door. Before jumping into the truck himself, he yelled, “Mason, get this herd to Yuma. Mattie and I will meet you there.” And with that order, Michael and Matthew jumped in the truck and sped away, leaving a trail of dust behind them.

Less than forty miles to Yuma, Colorado, Michael quickly found State Road 34 and stepped on the gas. He had her at the local hospital within an hour, and as he carried her in through the double doors, he immediately commanded everyone’s attention. “I want a doctor, now!” he barked.

Soon he was surround by nurses and techs, who quickly took Rachael into a private room in the emergency room. Michael followed them, and not a single one told him to leave. He stayed out of their way as they hooked her up to machine after machine. They were drawing blood, listening to her heart, and taking her temp, and the tests went on and on.

They had been in the emergency room for over three hours when the doctor walked into the room and motioned for Michael to meet him in the hallway.

Matthew followed.

“Mr. Armstrong, I am Doctor Cavanaugh. I have been the one treating your wife.” Michael was going to correct him, but he figured if he did, he wouldn’t get the answers he so desperately wanted and he wanted answers.

“Your wife is very sick. Her white blood level is very high. Apparently when the rattlesnake bit her, it took quite a toll on her. From where the snake bit her, the venom made it to her heart. Even though Doctor Armstrong did an admirable job, she needed immediate medical attention. I will be admitting her so we can watch her.”

“But she got better, Doc,” Michael said.

“She may have seemed to be getting better, but when the venom reached her heart, it slowly started to affect her, and her body became weaker. You should have noticed the signs. Sleeping more, eating less, irritability, night sweats?”

“Yeah, but I thought that was because of the cattle drive. All of us have had our moments.”

“I am sure you all have, but not all of you were bitten by a rattlesnake.”

“So, is she going to be okay?”

“We will give her antivenin and monitor her,” the doctor said, closing her chart.

“What about her nightmares? She has been having these terrible dreams and wakes up screaming. I have had to give her sedatives to help her sleep,” Matthew asked.

“Nightmares are very common in the first trimester, Doctor Armstrong. They should pass in a couple of weeks,” he said, beginning to walk away.

Michael raised his head. “Doc, what do you mean, first trimester?”

“Your wife is pregnant, Mr. Armstrong. Congratulations,” he said before walking away.

“Well, I’ll be. That explains everything.” Matthew smiled.

Michael just turned, looking at Rachael sleeping peacefully on the gurney. He walked over to her. Softly running his hand through her hair, he bent down and kissed her forehead.

Matthew just stood there in the hall watching his big brother and ran his fingers through his hair. “A baby,” he whispered with a smile on his face. He took his cell phone from his pocket and walked outside to make the call.

“You sleep now, honey. Everything is going to be okay,” Michael whispered in her ear. Rachael stirred a little, mumbling unconsciously. Michael grabbed a chair from the hallway, sitting next to her and holding her soft, frail hand.

* * * *

Later that morning, Rachael was moved up to the third floor and given a private room. Still hooked up to IV’s and a heart monitor, she never woke. She was restless, tossing and turning and still continuing to have her nightmares. Michael felt his gut being ripped apart. He so desperately wanted to help her fight the demons that were plaguing her. Unable to help, he stayed with her, holding her when she screamed, telling her everything was going to be okay. He watched nurses run in and out of the room, doctors coming in to only check her chart. He watched through the night, praying she would soon wake up.

It was sunrise when someone entered the room. Michael didn’t even bother looking up, thinking it was only another nurse or doctor. He just kept his head down, cradling her hand next to him.

* * * *

“Michael?” she said softly. Michael looked up to find his mother standing in the room, along with his brother, Matthew. “Matthew called me,” she said softly. Michael just looked at his mother and then lost it.

He cried.

Sarah Armstrong walked over to her son and held him while he cried out for the sleeping woman in the bed next to him. She held him the way she did when he was a small boy and needed his mother’s love, and like Michael had said so many times to Rachael, his mother gently stroked his head and whispered into his thick black hair, “Everything is going to be okay.”

“How’s she doin’, Mikie?” his brother said, walking up to him and placing his hand on his shoulder. Michael looked up at his brother. “Still the same.”

“Michael, where’s the herd?” Sarah asked.

“About forty miles southeast of Yuma,” Michael answered.

“Who is driving the herd?” she questioned.

“Mason and the boys. They should have left this morning around five.”

“I brought some extra boys with me. Thought you might need the help,” his mother said.

“Mom, I can’t leave her. So much has changed,” Michael said, turning around to look at her.

“Michael, I will stay with her. When she is able to travel, I will have her moved somewhere safe. I won’t leave her sight,” Sarah said, softly rubbing her son’s shoulders.

“Mom, I can’t,” Michael said, touching Rachael’s face. She moaned and turned her head, still dreaming.

Rachael grabbed his hand and squeezed hard. Michael was quickly on his feet, leaning over her and gently pulling her into his arms.

“Rachael, honey, please wake up,” he pleaded softly.

Her lifeless body tensed, and she screamed, “Michael!”

The nurses and doctor came running in, and soon one of the nurses injected something into her IV, and Rachael’s body slowly relaxed and soon she was once sleeping again.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Armstrong, we just gave your wife another mild sedative. She should sleep comfortably through the night,” Doctor Cavanaugh said, writing in her chart.

“Will it hurt the baby?” Michael asked, concerned.

“No. The baby is doing fine,” he said and quietly left the room.

“Michael?” his mother said, surprised, looking at him.

“She’s pregnant, Mom,” he replied.

“Michael Henry Armstrong,” she said, grabbing her son’s face. “And when were you planning on telling me?” she asked.

“Hell, Mom, I thought big mouth over there would have told you already,” he said, looking at Matthew, who was smiling at him.