Chapter 10
It was the creaking that first awoke me. The low whistle of the wind had long since become part of mine and Dusty’s night sharing a room. The Wyoming wind was always there. The long, pitchy groan was not. The crackling fire made me nearly comatose and my heavy blankets made a cozy haven on the couch. The pitchy noise found its way into my dreamlike state, somewhere in the middle of asleep and awake.
Another loud moan shot through the night. This time Dusty and I opened our eyes at the same time, alert and staring at each other on our opposite couches. We waited, bodies tensed and ready to spring to action at the first sign of trouble. When the sound came again, this time mixed with the cries of animals, we both sat up in our makeshift beds.
Dusty’s head tilted as he tried to make out the noise. “It sounds like a tree is about to fall. But there aren’t a lot of trees out here by the house. I can’t tell if it’s some sort of animal or…”
“What sort of animal would be out in this storm?” I stood up and strode to the window, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to see anything. Dusty followed me but stopped in the entryway and began putting on his boots.
Another creak through the night.
“I’ve got to check it out.”
Instantly I was filled with guilt from his words. This was my responsibility. My grandparent’s ranch. Though the thought of being thrust out in the dark cold in the winter with a possibly hungry animal loose nearly caused me to jump back in bed, I knew I couldn’t allow Dusty to go alone, even though he insisted that I did. I went to stand by him and reached for my own winter clothes.
Another loud creak and our eyes found each other once again, ears perched…listening. This time, closer to the door, we could make out the sound of a horse.
“The stable,” we both said in unison. Now, my fingers flew to zip up my coat and yank on my boots, barely making it out the door behind Dusty as we ran down the porch steps and took off toward the old building—The Leaning Tower of Crap, as my grandpa had dubbed it years ago. I had slept in flannel pajamas and the bottom of my pants had not been completely stuck into my boot. So it flapped as I ran after Dusty, the frigid air biting into my skin. There was at least a foot of fresh snow, the heavy and wet kind that was just begging to be rolled into snowballs. If circumstances were different, I might have been tempted to throw one or two.
We rounded the corner of the shed and both of us skidded to a stop, thankful for a bright moon illuminating through the darkness to lighten the night. The old stable had been around for almost a hundred years. It was the only building original to the ranch my great grandfather bought seventy years ago. The stable looked like something out of an Old West painting. I had always loved the look of the old, one story, A-frame stable, with a roof half caved in and splintered wood patched together. It had the look of something nostalgic. Something that had weathered all the years of the last century with a stoic grace not seen in the current landscape.
It had been leaning desperately to one side since I was a child. Every year, Grandpa talked about fixing it up, but he never quite got around to it. And every year, it leaned a couple of inches closer to the ground. The snowfall the past two days had packed onto the roof, which now accelerated the leaning. The dilapidated building swayed back and forth in the wind, the whistling sound accompanying it.
“Tell me all the animals in the stable,” Dusty shouted in my ear as the wind picked up.
“There’s a horse and three calves. Should we try to brace up the one side?” I looked around for something tall enough to hold the building.
“I don’t think there’s time. We’ve got to get the animals out.”
“The part leaning the most is where the horse is stabled.” At Jack’s whine for help, I took off running. Dusty caught up with me before I flung myself into the barn, pulling back on my coat to stop me.
“Hold up, Lou. You can’t go flying in there or it might topple over on you. We’ve got to work together.”
Another whine from the horse had me trying to escape from his grip. “We’ve got to get him out now!”
“I’m not letting you go in alone.”
“Let’s both go.”
“No, somebody needs to be on watch in case something happens.” He flashed his cell phone flashlight around frantically, though the light didn’t travel far through the pitch black. “Look around for something to brace the building while I run inside and get the animals.”
Fear gripped me. I grabbed his arm before he could leave my side. “No. Wait until we brace it before you go in. I think Grandpa has a couple two-by-fours in the shed.”
He grabbed my hand and we raced across the snow until we came to the large brown building wrapped in tin siding with an overhang that housed a tractor. I opened the door and attempted to turn on the light before remembering we had no power. Dusty produced his cell phone once more and we scoured the walls for anything that could help. Finally, in the dusty-filled corner we spied a rack with several pieces of lumber and a handful of two-by-fours. We each grabbed one and awkwardly made our way back to the stable.
Another low creaking moan whined through the air.
We flew into action. Dusty and I worked to get the lumber underneath the side of the stable that was nearing the ground. As soon as the wood was situated under the eave, a gust of wind blew the stable forward, knocking the wood out from its position.
Dusty swore, but we both hurried to reposition the wood back into place.
He turned to me. “Wait here, I’ll go get the animals out.” He didn’t wait to make sure I listened to him, which was a good thing because I immediately followed behind on his heels. Though my anxiety rarely made me feel like a brave person, this was something I hadn’t had to think twice about. There was no way I was allowing Dusty to go into my grandpa’s building that was seconds away from being firewood by himself. Thankfully, other than shooting me an exasperated look, he said nothing as he pulled open the big double doors, the wood splintering as he did so.
The stable was dark inside and creepy as all get-out. With all the cracks in the old wood, the air still felt freezing. I wondered why Grandpa even put animals in here. I guessed it would be a tiny bit warmer than outside, but as I stepped through the doorway, the chill immediately settled deep in my bones. Even though I was trying to be a brave person, walking into a dark, cold, moving and creaking old building with desperate animal sounds coming from the back was almost more than I could bear. Dusty stepped forward into the darkness and I latched onto his arm like an eel as we made our way forward, the light from his phone guiding our steps.
“Where are the animals?”
“The horse is in the back corner. The calves should be coming up on the right.”
“Your light sucks,” I couldn’t help saying as we plunged ourselves further into the dark. It was almost as if we had no light at all, for how feebly his phone’s glare cut through the darkness.
We reached the pen where the baby calves were being kept. They were visibly agitated and making all sorts of noises. Dusty wasted no time opening the gate? while I ran back to the front double doors and pushed it open. A moment later, Dusty came into view holding one calf in his arms while pushing the other two with his feet, prodding them closer to the entrance. I marveled at him once again as I did my paltry job of holding open the door. He never faltered, never got too scared to function, and never wavered in his strength and dedication to see the job finished.
My grandpa’s face joined us at the doorway. I yelped and nearly slammed the door in his face before I realized who was standing there. Grandpa took the reluctant calf from Dusty’s arms and took over prodding the rest out of the stable. The creaking groans of the stable were getting louder now.
“You two kids get out of there now. This thing’s coming down any second!” Grandpa shouted through the wind.
“Jack’s still in his corral,” I said.
“I’ll run back and grab him,” Dusty said, backing up into the darkness. “You get outside with your grandpa. Hold the door open. I’ll be out in a minute.”
I wasn’t sure why a part of me decided to pretend to be brave, but I think it had something to do with watching a strong, capable cowboy walk backwards into a stable on the verge of collapse to save my grandpa’s beloved horse. Pushing myself away from the door, I hurried along toward Dusty, grabbing his arm once again as the darkness swallowed us whole.
“Lou, just go stay with your grandpa. I’ve got this.”
“I know, but I happen to be an excellent light holder.”
We couldn’t see Jack’s corral in the dark, but we heard his cries. Stumbling closer, I flashed the light and saw him huddled in the corner of his corral, eyes wild with fright. The side of the stable had begun to splinter off in pieces, while the wind pushed the sides of the barn down almost on top of Jack’s back.
“Come on, boy,” I yelled for Jack as Dusty opened his gate. I stepped inside, grabbing at his neck in a pathetic, adrenaline-fueled effort to scoot him forward, but it didn’t work. The creaking sides and roof of the building had Jack too frightened to move.
I nodded, my heart in my throat as Dusty crouched down on his hands and knees and shimmied under the sides of the stable that was now only about three feet off the ground at its lowest. Once he got situated, on his hands and knees, with the roof on top of him, he slowly began to rise. The lowest point of the roof began to lift, with bits of the side breaking and poking outward, like shards of glass. When the middle part was as high as my chest, I carefully crawled closer to Jack. He was skittish and breathing heavily, but I reached my hands around his neck, giving a forceful tug. The horse lifted his eyes and stared soulfully into mine for a moment, but still refused to budge.
Dusty kicked his backside a few times to no avail.
“Jack! Go!” I yelled, tugging with every ounce of strength I had in me. He leaned forward and edged closer to me until he stopped, stubbornly refusing to go any further.
“Jack! MOVE!”
“I think I can make the roof go higher,” Dusty said, his voice strained. ”When I lift it up, do all you can to get him out. If this doesn’t work, we have to leave him. He might still survive.”
I nodded, realizing the danger we were in. I gripped Jack’s ears, heart pounding.
We counted to three. In a burst of strength, Dusty stood up, bearing the weight of the side of the old stable. My gaze was arrested by the sides nearly ready to crumble.
“You got this, Lou.”
I blinked, his words jarring me into action. I stood tall, showing Jack he could stand too, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him up and backward with all my weight.
Jack rocked back and forth on wobbly legs before bolting toward the opening. But not before his back hit the top of the roof, sending a shower of snow on Dusty’s head and shoulders.
I made my way to Dusty, wanting to somehow relieve the weight he was holding, but not knowing how to do so.
“Get out of here, Lou. This thing is going down the second I let go.”
It felt like an out of body experience for me when instead of running scared, I moved to stand next to Dusty. “Sorry, Cowboy, I’m staying here.”
“LUCY. Get out! Now!”
“I’m not going to let you die.”
“Let me what?”
“Die.”
Though I couldn’t hear it amid the wind thundering through the cracks in the wooded building and the snow quickly piling on our heads, I felt his laughter rumble through his chest.
“Die? From this stable? Girl, it was built a hundred years ago. Most of the wood is rotted, which is how we find ourselves in this position. The second I let go, I’m going to fling myself under the iron fence to block any potential blow. I’m more worried about your grandpa. Run and tell him to back away.”
“You are a bad liar, Dusty Bennett. He’ll be fine and you know it.”
He groaned as the weight of the roof caused him to shrink down lower. “I can’t hold this much longer, stop being stubborn and get out of here. I promise I’m not going to die. I haven’t got my kiss yet.”
I moved my arms around his waist in an attempt to show strength, when in reality, my arms were shaking like a leaf in the wind.
He sighed. “Alright then, I’m going to release this on three. Get ready to drop and roll under the corral. Make sure you tuck an—“
“Tuck and roll. Got it. You’re shaking.”
His countdown to three was swift and abrupt. On three, in a move of both speed and agility, he tucked me under his side and rolled us both under the narrow section of steel fence, surrounding each corral inside the old stable. The storm around me seemed to rage, snow and wooden fence posts falling and splintering all around us, but I felt nothing but warmth, tucked safely under Dusty’s body. He groaned in my ear as his body tensed several times until all the world around us became still.
“You kids okay?”
At the frantic voice of my grandpa, I opened my eyes which had been frozen shut. It all seemed like a dream. A cold, wet, intense dream. Dusty still hadn’t moved.
“Dusty?” I breathed, under his dead weight on top of me. “Are you okay?”
Footsteps moved closer to us. “Dusty? Son, you alright? Lucy, you okay? Answer me.”
“I’m fine! Dusty. Answer me. Are you okay?”
“I’ve finally got you where I want you and nobody will leave me alone.” Dusty’s words were strained as he whispered them into my ear.
My shoulders relaxed. “We’re okay,” I shouted to my grandpa, who was frantically pulling wood and roofing pieces off our bodies. Dusty had completely blocked my body with his and I had no idea how he was truly faring.
“Are you okay? Tell me the truth.”
“Right as rain.” He nestled closer to my ear. “Almost dying makes a man rethink his priorities.”
“What?! You told me you weren’t going to die.”
He snorted. “How was I supposed to know that? I’ve never had a building fall on me before.”
“Tell me right now, are you hurt?”
“Once Bob removes this beam off my legs I should be fine. I think the fence took most of the blows.”
There was a guttural sigh from Dusty when Grandpa lifted the wood from his legs. Slowly, he crawled off of me and I was immediately hit with a shot of cold wind in the face.
The stable had been reduced to a pile of wood and rubble. The iron fence post which we had crouched under, that had been welded into the concrete floor, was the only thing still standing. I took Dusty’s offered hand and stood on shaky legs.
“You kids okay?” Grandpa pulled us both in a hug until he started coughing.
“We’re good,” Dusty said.
“Did all the animals get out okay?” I asked.
Grandpa pointed toward a dark blob of calves huddling around the hay manger. Jack stood indignantly nearby. “Everybody’s fine. Thanks to you two.”
We all stood in quiet, stunned silence for a moment, staring at the empty space where a moment ago a building had stood. The realization of what had just happened began to settle on each of us.
“You dumb, idiot kids.” Grandpa broke the silence, looking at the mass of rotting wood at our feet. “You could have been paralyzed or worse.” We said nothing, watching him as he dropped his head in his hands, rubbing his face briskly, or wiping away a tear, it was hard to tell. “A few animals lost would be sad, but it’s nothing compared to…” He broke off again.
“With all due respect, sir, I tried to get your granddaughter to leave, but she’s as stubborn as a mule.”
“She’s a lot like her grandpa that way.” A tiny smile slipped from Grandpa’s lips as the worry tight in his brow seemed to lessen.
I stepped forward and gave him a hug. “It’s okay, Grandpa. Dusty wrapped me up so tight, I didn’t feel a thing.”
“I knew you were in good hands,” Grandpa said. “But you shouldn’t have been in there in the first place, either of you.” Before we could say anything in our defense, Grandpa smiled meekly at both of us. “But I thank you both, kindly. It was my fault. I should have torn that damn building down years ago.”
“We’re alright,” Dusty said. “Should we round up the calves and Jack and put them somewhere for the night?”
Grandpa looked at the animals lazily munching on snow-covered hay. “I’ll put Jack in the barn for the night, he’ll be fine. It looks like the calves are settled in with their mamas by the manger.”
Another coughing fit from my grandpa.
“Bob, just head inside. You too, Lucy. I’ll move Jack.”
Grandpa stamped his foot. “Nope. I’m doing it. You two get yourselves inside.”
With that he walked toward his horse, coughing again into the sleeve of his coat.
I sighed and turned to Dusty.
“Can you walk? Where did the heaviest board hit you?”
“My upper thigh.”
Worried, I grabbed his arm and tried turning him around, so I could get a look.
“Hey. Watch those hands.” Dusty jerked away from me.
“It’s just your leg, right?”
“Upper, upper thigh, okay.” He folded his arms.
“Your butt.”
“You’d probably love a quick peek, but I’d just feel cheap. You haven’t even got to first base yet.”
My instinct was to give him a playful push, but I hadn’t seen him move yet since standing. “I’m serious, can you walk?”
“I might need to lean on you.”
My breath hitched. I knew it. He was hurting. I moved in closer while he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I noticed he waited until Grandpa had walked Jack into the barn before he began to move, slowly. He walked as though he had been riding a horse for three days straight, so stiff in his movements and jerky in his steps.
“Where does it hurt?” I asked him, bracing myself under the brunt of his weight.
“My heart.”
“What?”
“My butt.”
My brows furrowed as we made our way up the front porch steps. “I thought you said…”
“My butt and my heart both hurt.”
When we reached the top of the stairs, I stopped and turned toward him, his arm still holding me close. “Why does your heart hurt? Are you feeling chest pains?” I pressed my hands over his chest as if I could somehow magically feel something. I didn’t feel any chest pains, but I did feel a solid block of muscle underneath that coat. He was less than a year younger than me. Of course, I’ve heard of stranger things happening, but…maybe a traumatic event like a building falling on you could trigger a heart attack?
His green eyes looked into mine, brimming with something. Mischief? “My butt will be fine. It feels like I just bruised my tailbone. I’ll probably have a wicked bruise. I’ll have to show you sometime.”
I couldn’t respond to his teasing while guilt wrecked me over his discomfort. Of his sacrifice. Of his even being here and helping all of us out. Of his warmth and his teasing. Of all the memories we had together. Of me realizing I never wanted the storm to end.
“Thank you, Dusty. I… I almost can’t even believe what just happened, but you’re practically crippled walking up the steps, and I’m just fine. That’s all thanks to you and your quick thinking and…keeping me safe.”
“Small price to pay.” He smiled at me.
“And how’s your heart?”
His eyes flitted down to my lips for a second, his arms pulling me closer. “The heart thing was a line, but the jury’s still out.”
Sweet tingles erupted throughout my body. I should kiss him. Right? It was time. My heart pounded but still, I hesitated.
“I’m reminded of a certain bet…”
Before he could say another word and before I could lose my nerve, I launched myself at his face. I gripped his cheeks with my hands and crushed my lips against his. For the record, I hit it right on. Lips on lips, but before he could blink I backed away from him, wide-eyed, and catapulted myself inside the house.
Apparently not much had changed since my days as a sixteen-year-old flamethrower.