Trail of Golden Dreams (12 page)

“Of course I can
handle it,” she answered.  The truth was, her thighs were giving her
spasms and her bottom was numb, but she wasn’t about to let him know.  She
wanted to get to the nuggets as quickly as he did.  She’d endure whatever
pain she had to suffer in order to reach the pot at the end of the
rainbow. 

“You ready to go?”
she asked Grey, as she hobbled over to Traveler.  Aware that she was
walking slightly bow-legged, she caught his toothy grin before he said, “Yep”
and ducked his head and mounted the white stallion.

Frowning, she
thought, how come
he
isn’t walking funny?

* * * *

Josie heard the
tinkle of bells.  “Look!” she cried, pointing.  “There’s a flock of
sheep ahead.”  She and Grey were walking their mounts side by side,
allowing them some cool-down time, since they’d been riding them so hard and
fast most of the day. 

There was a small
band of sheep grazing in a pasture.  Grey had been right about the green
land.  The terrain had gradually changed from dry desert to abundant reed
grass, and cottonwood trees dotted the landscape for the last couple of
miles.  Cottonwoods meant a source of water, and she saw plenty of trees
ahead.

She’d heard there
were shepherds in this area called the flats.  It was an amazing sight;
all those furry animals bleating and moving steadily over the ground like one
gigantic ocean wave. Two black and white dogs pushed the flock forward. 
Their yipping and barking brought a smile to her face.  She’d had a dog
for a pet once, when she was very young, but he’d run off. As they drew closer,
she glimpsed a small wooden lean-to near a small crop of trees.  The
sheepherder turned and waved in a friendly way.

“Trot!” she
commanded Traveler, leaving Grey behind.  When she reached the flock, she
walked the mule right into the middle of them.  The sheep bleated louder
and glanced up at her with frightened, beady, black eyes. 

“Hello!” she
called to the shepherd, who was a short, stocky man with skin darker than hers.
Surveying him quickly, he appeared to be in his forties or fifties.  He
had a large nose and a luxurious black moustache.  When he smiled, his
teeth were so white they dazzled.  He wore a loose fitting shirt and
pants, sandals on his feet, a little cap on his head, and he carried a walking
stick made of some kind of twisted wood.

“Good afternoon,”
he said in welcome, as he tipped his cap. 

“Good
afternoon.  My name is Josie Hart and”—she twisted around in her saddle
and beckoned toward Grey, who’d trotted up behind her—“this is my partner, Grey
Paladin.”

The sheepherder
nodded. “Good afternoon, Mr. Paladin.”

Grey touched the
brim of his Stetson and then gazed around, checking out the area. 
Although he was still wary, Josie’s worries had nearly dissolved.  She
imagined Marshal Kendall had given up tracking them.  Probably, she and
the map weren’t worth his time and energy after all.   

She detected a
foreign accent in the sheepherder.  The man glanced into the sky and
smiled brightly again.  When their gazes met, he exclaimed, “My name is
Leandro Garde, and this is my flock.  I thank God for you!  He brings
me a miracle, just as I prayed this morning.”

Josie and Grey
exchanged curious looks.  “What do you mean, Mr. Garde?” she asked.

“It is lambing
time and I have no one to help me.  My grandson became ill, and my nephew
has yet to arrive from Santa Fe, so I am here alone.  But God has sent
you.”  Again, he peered into the sky and then slapped his hands together
the way people do when they’re praying.  “Thank you, Lord, thank you.”

Grey’s dark eyes
flamed under the brim of his hat.  He whispered to her out of the side of
his mouth.  “We don’t have time for this, Josie. Kendall and his tracker
could be right behind us.  Besides, do you know anything about lambing?”

“No,” she
admitted.  “But we can learn.  It can’t be so hard.  This man
needs our help.  We can’t leave him stranded with lambs coming.  You
just heard him say his grandson’s sick.”

“Yeah, but…”

Her mouth
pursed.  “Grey Paladin, we are going to help this shepherd with his
flock,” she hissed.  “You’ve been on the lookout for the posse for two
days, and there’s been no sign of them.  I don’t know why they stopped
pursuing us, but I’m not going to question our good fortune in that regard. 
We’ve traveled far enough today.  We can camp here tonight, amongst the
sheep, after we help this man with the birthing.  Maybe he’ll feed us,”
she added.  “I’m hungry.” 

Not waiting for
his response, she climbed off Traveler and walked him to a tree and tied him
off.  “Bring Lightning over here,” she hollered.  “And get out the
grain.”

“You’re getting a
little bossy, ain’t ya?” Grey mumbled, as he slid out of the saddle and looped
the stallion’s reins over the branch of the tree, next to the mule. The two
animals had become the best of friends.  One didn’t let the other out of
its sight for long before raising a ruckus. After he fed each some grain from
his pouch, he joined Josie and the sheepherder.

“Mr. Garde,” she
asked, “is there a source of water for our animals?  We’ve ridden a long
distance today.”

“Yes,” he replied,
pointing to a small stream behind the patch of cottonwoods.

She nodded to
Grey.  “When Traveler and Lightning have eaten, you can take them to the
stream and let them drink their fill.  I’m going to find out what we can
do for Mr. Garde.”  She flashed the old man a sweet smile and shooed Grey
away with a flick of her wrist. 

He growled low in
his throat.  As he passed by, he bumped her shoulder on purpose and
whispered, “You might be pretty, but don’t think you’re the boss of me, you
little crocodile.”

Josie’s admiring
gaze followed him as he strolled toward their animals.  His tall, lean
frame was a sight to behold.  Her breath hitched.
  Did he just say
I’m pretty?

“Miss Hart?”

She turned, having
completely forgotten about the shepherd for a second.  “Yes, Mr. Garde?”

The old man rushed
toward an ewe that was writhing on the ground.  “Hurry!  A lamb is
coming!”

She dashed off
behind him. While running, she screamed over her shoulder, “Grey! Come
quick!”  She dropped to her knees next to the ewe, which was bleating
loudly.  The poor creature looked so uncomfortable, lying on her side,
moaning.  Her coat was dirty, and her eyes were glassy.  She panted,
straining with labor pains.  Her body convulsed with the growing intensity
of the contractions.  Josie’s frightened gaze flew to Garde.  “What
do we do?”

“The lamb is not
coming on his own.  I must take it out.” He quickly slipped his hands into
the ewe’s body.  Because of the animal’s thrashing, it was necessary for
Garde to jam his legs against her rump before he could begin to pull. Agitated
and scared, the mother screamed and fought against the sheepherder until her
energy was gone. 

Josie couldn’t
believe what she was seeing.  Was this the way it was with human mothers
when they gave birth?  If it was, she wanted nothing to do with it. 
She thought her eyes would pop out of her head.  The ewe was being ripped
open!  Then suddenly the lamb slid out, dripping with blood and
mucus.  Garde wiped the afterbirth from the lamb’s face.

Stunned into
wordless shock, Josie stared with her mouth open.  When she felt a hand on
her shoulder, she peered into Grey’s eyes.  She could tell by the dazed
expression on his face that he’d never seen anything like it before
either.  They were both drawn from their reverie when Garde shouted, “More
are dropping!  Please help!”

Grey gazed around
and ran to the nearest ewe in trouble and fell to his knees.

Another ewe
toddled over and collapsed at Josie’s feet. She could see this mother was
struggling, same as the first had been.  She appeared weak, but still
managed to beat her head on the ground, like she was trying to knock herself
unconscious.  It was horrifying to watch, but there was no time to think
about anything except helping the ewe.  If Josie could dig a bullet out of
the arm of an Apache, surely she could birth a lamb. 

She sucked in a
deep breath and squatted on the ground and placed her boots against the
mother’s rump like she’d seen the shepherd do. “Okay, mama.  I’m going to
do what I can here, but you have to do your part.”  Swallowing hard, she
forced back the bile that threatened to rise in her throat.  Before she
could change her mind, she reached down and buried her hands inside the hot
body of the ewe.  The animal cried out and went rigid. 

“Oh, my
heavens.”  Josie jerked her head around, trying to locate Mr. Garde. 
She saw him huddled over another sheep, delivering a baby.  Grey, too, was
working frantically, with his hands inside an animal.  She was on her own.

“I can do this,”
she said, as she stared into the glazed eyes of the ewe.  It began
smashing its head on the ground again, giving itself a bloody nose.  “Stop
that!  Don’t die on me, mama.  I need your help to get your baby
out.” 

She pushed her
hands deeper inside and could feel the powerful uterine muscles squeezing
against her fingers.  Then the ewe let out such a terrible sound, Josie
thought she might burst into tears. The mother was dying. The sheep’s body
convulsed violently. Feeling something solid in her hands, Josie began to
pull.  “It’s coming!” she shouted, more to herself than either of the men
who were busy with their own deliveries.  With one last burst of strength,
the ewe twisted and attempted to stand.

“Lie down! 
Your baby’s coming!” Leaning back, Josie pulled as hard as she could. Just as
the lamb slipped out, a rattle erupted from the mother’s throat.  Her body
went limp, and she closed her eyes and died.  Josie fell back with the
lamb filling her arms.  Her face was covered in sweat, and her clothes and
arms were soiled with blood. She plunged her fingers into the lamb’s nose and
mouth and wiped away the mucus.  It wasn’t breathing! 

“No!” she
sobbed. 

Grey pushed his
way through the packed crowd of bleating animals and dropped to his knees at
her side.  He grabbed the lamb out of her arms and began slapping
it.  After four blows, the lamb gasped and began to breathe. 

Josie’s cheeks
felt damp with tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed.  “Oh, Grey!  You
did it!  You saved him!”

He grinned while
panting heavily.  “No,
you
did it.”

In a flash, Mr.
Garde was next to them.  “We must jacket this lamb for a new mother,” he
said.  “Come with me.”  He lifted the newborn into his arms, and the
three of them waded through the flock until they found a stillborn lamb. 
Josie looked into the heartsick eyes of the ewe that had lost her
offspring.  It seemed she
knew
she had just lost something very
precious.  The shepherd picked up the dead lamb, and the trio walked about
forty feet away, so the mourning mother could not see them. Then Garde yanked a
knife out of the holder tied around his waist and quickly sliced away the dead
lamb’s skin. Without a thought, he tore the pelt off and dropped the carcass on
the ground. 

Josie turned away,
thinking she might be sick.  How could they leave the bloody little body
there in the grass?  It was so tragic.  Hot tears spilled down her
cheeks again.  She felt Gray’s hand circle her waist, and she rested her
head against his arm.

“Come with me!”
the shepherd yelled. 

She forced herself
to regain her composure, and the three of them raced to the lamb she’d just
delivered. Garde shook out the pelt like it was a dusty rug and then tied it
onto the back of the new lamb with string pulled from his back pocket. 
Once again, they ran through the flock, and he placed the other mother’s baby
under the bereaved ewe’s belly and shoved the lamb’s mouth against her
teats. 

Fresh blood
dripped from the grisly jacket the newborn wore.  The lamb looked like it
had two tails.  Josie couldn’t imagine the grief-stricken mother would be
fooled by such a trick, but after several nudges, the baby began to suckle and
the ewe’s mourning bleats took on a different kind of sound.  Her wailing
ended, and she grew calm and even licked at the coat.

Josie had never
seen anything like it. She felt physically drained and emotionally exhausted,
but the shepherd informed her their work was not over.  There were more
sheep ready to deliver. 

For the next few
hours, the three of them tended the ewes in labor and watched over the new
mothers and their lambs.  Out of a hundred sheep, amazingly, only three
died, including the one that was stillborn, and only one ewe had refused her
lamb.  Josie nearly cried again when she realized that orphan was doomed
without fresh milk to drink.

“There has to be
something we can do for this little fellow,” she said, cradling the lamb in her
arms.  He had grown very weak by the time they had found him lying in the
grass alone.  “Do you have milk, Mr. Garde?  Can we feed him from a
pan?”

He shook his
head.  “He would have to be fed five times a day.  I don’t have time
for that.  It’s more important to make sure the healthy ones make it.”

“What about
another mother?” Grey asked.

Again, the
shepherd shook his head.  “Even if another mother accepted this one, she
will not have enough milk.  Then two lambs might weaken and die.  I
cannot afford that.”

Josie gazed into
Grey’s eyes, pleading for him to do something.  She couldn’t stand to
think of the lamb orphaned.  She knew all too well what it felt like to be
alone in the world.

He sighed. 
“We have to do something, Mr. Garde.  Tell me what we can do.” 

The old man
relented when he saw Josie’s eyes well up and her lip quiver.  “I have a
small amount of milk in the cabin.  Have you got a strip of cloth?”