Saddle Up by CJ Bishop

CHAPTER 8

“The Storm”

Blinded by the snow whipping in his eyes, Heff ducked his face deeper into the scarf. He couldn’t tell which way they were going, or where the house and barn were now. Heff let the hound lead them and prayed it would take them to Garland. Alone, he would never find him… or find his way back home.

He didn’t know how much time had passed—not much, he was sure—before his legs grew numb from the arctic wind. Heff’s boots weren’t made for such severe weather and already he was losing feeling in his feet and toes as the forceful gales drove snow down around his ankles and inside the inadequate footwear. If it took too long to find Garland… would Heff be in any condition to help him? Physically or mentally?

Lost out in the storm, not knowing which way was home, Heff’s phobia kicked in full force, stirring up his panic as he clung to the saddle horn, the powerful gales trying to rip him from the saddle. The terrified boy in him cried out that they needed to go back, get inside the house where it was safe. But for the first time in his life, Heff defied the frightened child within and kept moving forward. Garland was all he had left in this world. It didn’t matter that Garland no longer wanted him—Heff still needed the man to be alive… to stay in this world with him. If Garland left him, too… maybe Heff didn’t want to be here anymore, either.

The hound tugged hard at the thin rope and Heff urged the gelding forward to keep up with the dog. An ache spread through his cheekbones and across his nose as the bitter wind beat against his face.

Please, God, let us find him soon.

As terrified as he was to be out here in the storm, the bulk of Heff’s fear was for Garland. In his mind, he kept seeing the riderless horse galloping up to the porch, reins whipping in the wind. Garland was an excellent rider; he wouldn’t have just fallen off the gelding—even if the animal had bucked or reared. He knew how to stay in the saddle. Something else happened that separated him from his mount. Had he found the other horses and dismounted to check on them… and the gelding spooked and took off? Could it be that simple?

Garland wouldn’t take that chance. He was accustomed to this weather; he understood the dangers. He wouldn’t have risked losing his horse.

He got hurt… somehow.

Heff closed his eyes against the driving snow—and the frightening thoughts running rampant through his head.

He had to find Garland soon. Otherwise, not only would Garland be in serious trouble, but so would Heff.

“Garland, where are you?” Heff whispered into the scarf.

………………………………

The cold numbed him to the bone. He felt nothing—not even the ground beneath him as if he were floating in a vacuum. Was he dead? Was this what it felt like—nothingness? In the far reaches of his mind, he heard voices… Frank… Mandy… slowing growing louder. Mandy was… screaming.

No… not screaming.

Squealing.

• ••

A high-pitched squeal came from the bathroom. Garland’s brow crinkled in a puzzled frown, and he left his room, walking down the hall. He tapped his knuckles on the bathroom door. “You all right in there, sis?”

The door flung open, startling Garland, bringing him face to face with his ecstatic sister-in-law. “Yes!” She flung her arms around Garland’s waist and hugged him fiercely. “Yes! Yes!”

He chuckled. “What’s all the excitement for?”

Mandy rushed back into the bathroom and snatched the white plastic stick from the edge of the sink. “This!” she squealed again, waving the stick. “I’m pregnant!”

Garland blinked. “Serious…? Oh, my God. Oh, my God!” He swept her into his arms and crushed her in a bear hug, planting a firm kiss on her cheek before setting her down again. “Frank is going to—”

“No-no.” Mandy held up her hand, practically shaking with excitement. “Don’t say a word. I want to tell him.”

“Of course.” He grinned and shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I’m gonna be an uncle!”

Mandy smiled through her tears. “The best uncle ever.”

“So… was this planned?”

“Yes.” Mandy let out a shaky breath. “We didn’t want to say anything until we got pregnant. And now…” She stared at the pregnancy stick, her face glowing. “It’s really happening. Frank will be ecstatic. He couldn’t wait to be a daddy.”

Garland hugged her again. “You and Frank will make amazing parents.” He squinted teasingly. “Look how well you’ve done with me.”

Mandy laughed and smacked his back lightly, withdrawing from his embrace. “You’ve certainly been a handful.” She winked.

“Don’t I know it.”

The young woman gazed at him with deep affection. “Seriously,” she said softly, taking his hand. “You’ve been a godsend. We couldn’t have gotten this place on its feet without you. And because of your help, we have our own little piece of heaven on earth to raise our children, something wonderful to pass down to them.”

Garland squeezed her hand. “I’m honored to be a part of it. I love this ranch; it’s become a part of me.”

“A part of all of us,” Mandy murmured. She exhaled, her smile growing as she continued to gaze at the proof of the precious life now growing inside her. “I can’t wait to tell Heff,” she whispered.

Garland tensed, his pulse quickening. Heff. It troubled him that the mere sound of the boy’s name set his heart to pounding. For the past five years, he’d done his damnedest to erase Mandy’s little brother from his thoughts and memories. Most days, he was good. But then Mandy would speak his name out of the blue and Garland would have to start the process all over again.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sure he’ll be very happy for you,” he mumbled, taking a step down the hall. “I should get to town… pick up the parts for the tractor.” He walked away, his stride quick, as if by retreating from Mandy’s presence… he could also retreat from memories of Heff Wilder.

• ••

Garland sensed the tears rather than felt them. He wasn’t just responsible for the loss of two lives… but three. Four, if he counted Heff… and how could he not? Standing face to face with the boy again after all this time, he realized Heff hadn’t moved on. Garland had killed something inside the young man five years ago… and he’d been slowly dying since.

Mandy and Frank… their unborn child… were gone forever.

Heff still had a chance… if he would just let go of Garland.

You destroyed everyone you loved—this world is better off without you… Heff is better off without you.

……………………………

The forceful baying of the hound drew Heff from a groggy slumber. He was bent forward in the saddle—motionless. The gelding had stopped, but the hound…

“Oh, God…” Heff whimpered when he reached for the rope—and found it gone. Somehow it had come untied from the saddle horn, and now the hound was gone. The fragmented sound of the baying dog offered little comfort. There was no way to tell from which direction it came. The baying of the hound swirled around Heff on the high wind, beating at him as fiercely as the blizzard. Heff called to the animal, but his voice whipped away as soon as he opened his mouth.

Fumbling for the reins with numb hands, Heff got the gelding moving again. He traveled slowly, turning whichever direction the baying seemed to come from. Soon, it struck him that he was surely going in circles. There was no way to find the dog.

Heff leaned forward, gripping the horn with both hands, breath heaving as panic took over. His disoriented mind began to shut down, and his frozen limbs followed as his terror paralyzed him.

I’m gonna die… Garland is gonna die…

Heff ducked his head, his body covered in snow. The gelding was unusually calm amidst the blizzard, but Frank trained his horses that way. Bomb-proof, he’d called it. Why hadn’t it returned to the ranch like Garland’s mount? Heff didn’t know how long he’d been out of it, but his hold on the reins had slackened, the horse could have gone where it wanted.

His chest constricted with sobs, and he laid forward, gripping the gelding’s neck as it continued forward at a walk. It had to be freezing cold, too. Would it die out here as well? Frank had loved this horse. He was just starting it under saddle when Heff left the ranch.

Please don’t die. If I fall off… just go home… find shelter… survive.

Heff gripped fists of the animal’s snowy mane and cried—for the horse… for Garland… for Mandy and Frank… for his parents… for a future that should have been… and would never be.

Just let me die… let me go be with my family… I don’t want to be here without them.

He straightened up as gusts of wind rocked him in the saddle. “Just do it,” he cried into the storm—the monster of his nightmares since he was ten. “Just do it! I don’t fucking care anymore—just kill me already!” He broke into hard sobs as the baying of the hound continued to swirl around him, coming from all directions. “I don’t… care… anymore.”

The baying stopped—like the flip of a switch.

The storm raged on all sides, yet Heff felt the heavy silence. Though he hadn’t known where the dog was out in the storm… the baying let him know it was still there… still searching for Garland. With the silence came a frightening aloneness. The day seemed to be darkening, yet it was still morning, it had to be… he hadn’t faded out for very long, had he? Certainly not for hours.

I don’t know what to do.

Heff gave the horse its head, loosening up on the reins and wrapping them around the horn. Ducking his head into the coat and scarf, he let the gelding take him where it would. He didn’t fight the drowsiness that lurked at the edge of his consciousness, even knowing if he fell asleep, he could fall from the saddle. It didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered. The numbness in his body drew him toward that place of rest and his eyes grew heavy.

Heff passed in and out of consciousness for what felt like hours, even days. When he started to slip from the saddle, he jerked awake, catching himself before he tumbled to the ground. The gelding had stopped moving again. The blizzard raged on, taking vengeance on everything in its path. His mind fogged, Heff wondered where he was… and knew it didn’t really matter. He was beginning to feel warm and understood what that meant. It wouldn’t be long now, not for him. It had already been too long for Garland. He was already gone.

Shaking with grief, Heff’s one final concern was the gelding. If it just stood there in the storm, it would freeze to death as well. “Come on,” Heff whispered, his voice trembling as he urged the animal forward. “You can’t die out here.”

The horse took a few steps and halted again, shifting its feet in the deep snow. Then Heff heard it—a low whining. The hound. It continued in a steady mewl and he realized it came from somewhere in front of the gelding. A stationary sound. The dog wasn’t moving.

“Boy… where are you?” Heff squinted into the blinding snow but could barely see his hand in front of his face. The hound whined again, closer this time—near his left stirrup. Heff reached down and patted his leg and a moment later, the hound nuzzled his hand. Heff swallowed a cry and fumbled around the dog’s collar until he found the thin rope then wrapped it around his wrist.

The hound whined louder and tugged against the rope.

“What… what is it?” Heff called over the howling wind, his mouth filling with snow.

Another hard tug.

Heff slid out of the saddle—and fell to his knees as his numb legs gave out beneath him. He grabbed at the stirrup and managed to pull himself upright, then gripped the reins, yanking them loose from the saddle horn, keeping a tight hold so he didn’t lose the horse.

He couldn’t feel his feet and when he took a step, his knees buckled again, dropping him to his hands and knees. Fighting the panic, Heff clutched the reins in one hand and the dog’s lead in the other—and crawled after the hound, blinded by the snow whipping up off the ground into his face.

Moments later, the tugging ceased, and the rope went slack. Heff bumped into the canine’s haunches. The dog stood in place, pawing at the snow. Fresh panic surged through Heff, and he scrambled forward, groping through the snow where the hound had begun to dig. His freezing hands barely felt the man’s face as they passed over it. Horror seized him and tears flood down his frozen face. “No… no! Garland!”

Heff pressed his face close to Garland, searching for a sign of life. Just as terror struck his heart—a faint breath touched his lips as he moved his face over the man’s mouth.

“Garland…?” Heff choked, hurriedly brushing the snow away from his head and chest. “Garland?” His pulse shuddered when he saw the blood frozen in diagonal streaks across Garland’s face. Oh, God. “Garland—can you hear me?” Heff gently slipped his hand beneath Garland’s head, fearful of a concussion but needing to get him moved. “Garland…?”

A weak sound seeped through his frozen lips and Heff cried.

“I-I need your help,” Heff choked. “I can’t… I can’t move you by myself… please…” When he received no response, Heff buried his face in the man’s shoulder and wept, shaking in despair. “God, please… please… help me.”

“Heff…”

“Oh, God,” Heff cried and kissed his chilled face. “Garland?” Regaining some control, Heff cleared his throat and leaned close to the man’s ear. “Can you move? I know you’re cold, but I need your help.  I can’t put you on the horse by myself.” Shifting onto his knees, Heff reached under his arms and heaved. “Dammit, Garland—help me!”

From somewhere, Garland found the strength to lean forward. Heff worked his feet under him, made sure they would hold, and tried lifting Garland. After repeated attempts and much cursing, Heff got him on his feet and to the horse.

“This is gonna be the hard part,” Heff panted as Garland held onto him and the saddle for support. “I’m going to need all you got to give and then some.” He worked Garland’s left foot into the stirrup and moved his hands to the saddle horn. “Grab hold.” Heff heaved. “Come on,” Heff growled, his voice straining when Garland didn’t budge. “Give me some damn help.”

When he heaved again, Garland gripped the horn weakly, using his final vestige of strength to aid Heff in lifting him into the saddle. Once mounted, he curled forward over the saddle horn, unable to sit up.

His weakened state frightened Heff—he’d never seen the man so feeble… and it scared the fuck out of him. “Hold on,” Heff whispered shakily and laid the reins across the gelding’s neck, then not-so-gracefully, crawled up behind the man. He reached around him, found the reins, and wound them around his hands.

Now what? You don’t even know where you are? How are you going to get him home?

Heff looked down at the hound, its lead still wrapped around his wrist. “Can you find the way back, boy?” He swallowed thickly. “You’re still my only hope.”

The hound bayed, tugged at the rope, and led the small group into the raging storm.

Heff wrapped his arms around Garland, struggling to keep them both on the gelding’s back.

“Just hang on,” Heff whispered against his back, his chin trembling. “We’re gonna make it. You got this.” Heff hugged him tighter. “And I got you… and I won’t let go.”