common, already."
Then
Mary Grace felt the baby resting on her back, and grimaced. Nice of him to
think of her as a piece of furniture. So she was to provide the diapers and the
changing table both, apparently.
"OK,
son. I admit I don't have no notion how to put this on you proper, so this'll
have to do. Try to go back to sleep and I'll wake you up when there's somethin'
for you to eat."
Miraculously,
the baby complied, and they rode on for a while in silence, Mary Grace trying
to think despite the overwhelming nausea that being carried in this position
produced. What she wouldn't give to sit upright for five minutes!
"Sweet
Mary? You asleep?" The voice was quiet, nearly tender.
She
pretended she was in hopes that he would stop his talking, but he shook her
gently, instead.
"Miss?
I figure I can let you go as soon as we get near that clump of trees. We're
well out of the canyon and I can make better speed now without your extra
weight. If you start heading back now, you can reach the place where I found
you before dark. I figure whichever one of the Tates it is you're attached to
will be out looking for you and you won't have to go all that far on foot. I
really am powerful sorry to have had to drag you along like this, but I can't
see as how you left me much choice."
Now
he was going to leave them here? What was the point of that? Unless he meant to
leave just her and take the child. Well, if that was what he meant, he'd have
to think again, wouldn't he? She was not about to let him go off with her baby.
Not little Paddy.
"Now,
you can make this hard, or easy," he told her as they neared the bushes.
"I'm gonna put you down and untie your hands. I figure you can do the
rest."
He
lowered her off the horse and tried to set her on her feet, all without getting
out of the saddle. She fell in a heap like a rag doll, the dust of the road
rising around her in a puff. She scrambled about trying to right herself, aware of how
close the horse's hooves stood ready to stomp her beneath them.
"Damn,"
the cowboy spat out, getting awkwardly down from his mount. "Sorry. I should have figured
you couldn't stand like that."
He
rolled her onto her stomach and loosened the ropes on her wrists. Before he
could even back out of her way, she'd pulled the gag from her mouth, and after
spitting out several hours' worth of road dust and wiping her lips quickly with
the dirty handkerchief, she began sputtering at him.
"Of
all the stupid, idiotic things to do. What in the hell did you think you could
accomplish by..."
At
her shouts the baby began to cry. The man looked at him, mildly surprised, and
then turned on Mary Grace. "Now look what your yelling's done. Didn't you
learn nothing from the last time you shouted out?"
"And
did it ever occur to you he might be crying because you've stolen him away from
his family, stuck him on a goddamn elephant, and haven't fed him all day? It's
not my yelling, it's hunger, you idiot! Haven't you got a canteen of
water?"
"Course
I got a canteen," he hollered back, but made no move to get it.
"Give
me the baby and get it," she instructed and laughed at his hesitation.
Pointing to her still-bound feet she asked him, "And does it look like I'm
going anywhere?"
He
clumsily leaned over until his hands could support a good portion of his weight
and pushed himself up onto his good leg. He seemed embarrassed by his efforts.
"What
happened to your leg?"
"Shot,"
he answered without elaborating. There was a strained silence, which Mary Grace
finally broke.
"And
we'll need another strip of my slip. Unless you brought a bottle and a nipple
for the baby?" She stared at him, and he shrugged slightly.
"Your
slip?"
"Yes,
my slip. Did you use all you ripped off?"
"Oh,
you mean your petticoat. 'Fraid he used it all, and then some," he said,
pointing first toward the baby and then to the big wet stain on his shirt.
"Well,
we'll have to rip a little more." Her hands were full of the baby, so she
waited for him to
Then
Mary Grace felt the baby resting on her back, and grimaced. Nice of him to
think of her as a piece of furniture. So she was to provide the diapers and the
changing table both, apparently.
"OK,
son. I admit I don't have no notion how to put this on you proper, so this'll
have to do. Try to go back to sleep and I'll wake you up when there's somethin'
for you to eat."
Miraculously,
the baby complied, and they rode on for a while in silence, Mary Grace trying
to think despite the overwhelming nausea that being carried in this position
produced. What she wouldn't give to sit upright for five minutes!
"Sweet
Mary? You asleep?" The voice was quiet, nearly tender.
She
pretended she was in hopes that he would stop his talking, but he shook her
gently, instead.
"Miss?
I figure I can let you go as soon as we get near that clump of trees. We're
well out of the canyon and I can make better speed now without your extra
weight. If you start heading back now, you can reach the place where I found
you before dark. I figure whichever one of the Tates it is you're attached to
will be out looking for you and you won't have to go all that far on foot. I
really am powerful sorry to have had to drag you along like this, but I can't
see as how you left me much choice."
Now
he was going to leave them here? What was the point of that? Unless he meant to
leave just her and take the child. Well, if that was what he meant, he'd have
to think again, wouldn't he? She was not about to let him go off with her baby.
Not little Paddy.
"Now,
you can make this hard, or easy," he told her as they neared the bushes.
"I'm gonna put you down and untie your hands. I figure you can do the
rest."
He
lowered her off the horse and tried to set her on her feet, all without getting
out of the saddle. She fell in a heap like a rag doll, the dust of the road
rising around her in a puff. She scrambled about trying to right herself, aware of how
close the horse's hooves stood ready to stomp her beneath them.
"Damn,"
the cowboy spat out, getting awkwardly down from his mount. "Sorry. I should have figured
you couldn't stand like that."
He
rolled her onto her stomach and loosened the ropes on her wrists. Before he
could even back out of her way, she'd pulled the gag from her mouth, and after
spitting out several hours' worth of road dust and wiping her lips quickly with
the dirty handkerchief, she began sputtering at him.
"Of
all the stupid, idiotic things to do. What in the hell did you think you could
accomplish by..."
At
her shouts the baby began to cry. The man looked at him, mildly surprised, and
then turned on Mary Grace. "Now look what your yelling's done. Didn't you
learn nothing from the last time you shouted out?"
"And
did it ever occur to you he might be crying because you've stolen him away from
his family, stuck him on a goddamn elephant, and haven't fed him all day? It's
not my yelling, it's hunger, you idiot! Haven't you got a canteen of
water?"
"Course
I got a canteen," he hollered back, but made no move to get it.
"Give
me the baby and get it," she instructed and laughed at his hesitation.
Pointing to her still-bound feet she asked him, "And does it look like I'm
going anywhere?"
He
clumsily leaned over until his hands could support a good portion of his weight
and pushed himself up onto his good leg. He seemed embarrassed by his efforts.
"What
happened to your leg?"
"Shot,"
he answered without elaborating. There was a strained silence, which Mary Grace
finally broke.
"And
we'll need another strip of my slip. Unless you brought a bottle and a nipple
for the baby?" She stared at him, and he shrugged slightly.
"Your
slip?"
"Yes,
my slip. Did you use all you ripped off?"
"Oh,
you mean your petticoat. 'Fraid he used it all, and then some," he said,
pointing first toward the baby and then to the big wet stain on his shirt.
"Well,
we'll have to rip a little more." Her hands were full of the baby, so she
waited for him to
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