10
I declare," Mrs. Muckleroy said at breakfast. "I can't wait to get home. I want to change into fresh clothes. I feel like a hobo wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday."
I looked at her dress, which must have cost a bunch.
"Oh, I don't mind that, but I do want to get back to town and see what damage the tornado's done." Miss Julia speared a slice of ham off the platter as Biggie passed it to her. "Umm, this looks like real ham, not that stuff you get in the grocery store nowadays."
"Where is the family?" Mrs. Muckleroy asked.
Abner spoke from the head of the table. "They're all late sleepers. I'd be happy to take you ladies— and young people— for a tour of the ranch before you leave."
"That would be great," Biggie said. "Rosebud, are the roads cleared?"
Rosebud nodded. "Got it on the radio this morning. We can leave anytime you're ready."
"Excellent." Biggie drained her coffee cup. "Then we'd best have our tour, if you can go now, Abner."
"I'll pass," Mrs. Muckleroy said. "I think I'll just relax on the patio with my second cup of coffee."
"I'll join you, Ruby," said Miss Julia.
"Then, we're off." Abner scraped his chair back from the table.
Monica and I followed Biggie and the foreman out the door.
"Have you told her yet?" Monica whispered.
"Haven't had a chance."
"The ranch is near four thousand acres." Abner swept his arm in a circle around him. "But nearly half has gone back to woods. We're clearing and planting around seventy-five acres a year. Rex is not much interested; but the way I see it, the way the money's going out around here, the quicker I can make this into a profitable operation, the better."
"I hear ranchers are going broke all over the place," Biggie said.
"That's right. You have to have a gimmick: Mine is in exotics."
"Exotics?"
"Yeah, cattle. See that bull over there. He's a Limosin. French. We sell his semen to breeders."
"My, he's huge."
"Right. I've got four more on order. We also cross-breed him with our registered polled Herefords. The calves make mighty fine beef cattle. Now over here we have our horse barn." We followed him in.
"Beautiful horses," Biggie said. "What are they?"
"Arabians. We breed those, too. Hamp and his daughter train them for sale. Ah, here comes Ol' Hamp now with his pretty little daughter."
Abner introduced Hamp and Misty to Biggie.
"I used to ride all the time as a girl." Biggie stroked the soft nose of one of the horses.
"How about a ride this morning?" Hamp lounged against a stall.
"I'm not dressed for it," Biggie said. She looked like she wished she were.
"No problem." Hamp led us into the tack room and opened a closet. "We've got plenty of riding clothes. How about these? You're about Babe's size, I'll bet." He held up a pair of riding britches.
"Well…"
"I want to ride, too," Monica said.
"That settles it then. J.R.?"
I wasn't about to make a fool of myself. I'd seen those dinky little saddles.
"I'll just watch," I said.
Misty and I stood at the rail as Hamp and Abner led the horses carrying Biggie and Monica into the ring.
"Your grandmother seats a horse like she was born to ride," Misty said.
"I guess," I said, surprised.
Misty giggled. "Can't say the same for your friend, though." Monica was all over that saddle as the horse trotted around the ring.
We watched as Biggie reined her horse to a stop and spoke briefly to Hamp, who nodded his head. I like to have swallowed my tongue when I saw what happened next. Hamp and Abner pulled a barricade into the pen and set it up across the riding path.
"She's going to jump," Misty said.
I wanted to cover my eyes but didn't want Misty to think I was a sissy. Biggie turned her horse and trotted to the end of the ring. She nudged him with her heels. The horse sped toward the barricade. My heart pounded as my grandmother lowered herself across the horse's neck and sailed over the barrier. Monica, straddling her horse on the sidelines, stared openmouthed while Biggie went around again.
Later, after the ride was over, Monica couldn't stop talking about it. "Miss Biggie, that was the awesomist thing I ever saw. Where'd you learn to do that?"
"On the farm where you live— when I was a girl." Biggie smiled at Monica.
"You reckon I could learn?"
"Maybe," Biggie said. "Maybe I'll get you and J.R. a horse and teach you myself."
Suddenly, we heard the pounding of hooves as Laura rode past us. She was a good distance away and never saw us. "My, oh my, she sits a horse well," Biggie said.
"Sure does. She's a natural." Abner looked admiringly at Laura as she galloped away.
"Do you think she's good for Rex?" Biggie asked.
"Yes'm, I do. She'll do just about anything to make him happy— anything but give up this camp, that is."
"And does that make Rex unhappy?"
"No, I don't think so. Of course, he's past caring about all the money being spent. That's left for the rest of us to worry about. All in all, though, she's a good kid. She's got some mighty peculiar ideas though."
"Such as?"
"Such as all this New Agey stuff she's gone off her head about. Bunch of bull, if you was to ask me, which nobody does, of course."
Just then, Hamp whistled from the barn. He waved his arms at Abner. "Phone call!" he shouted.
"Be back pronto," Abner said, and hobbled off toward the barn. Biggie took a seat on a concrete bench, and we joined her and watched as Hamp strolled toward us.
Monica sighed. "That is one good-looking man," she said. "Even if he is old."
Hamp leaned against the fence and looked down at Biggie. "Abner'll be out in a minute," he said. "Meantime, I've got a proposition for you, Miss Biggie."
Biggie cocked her head at him.
"Well, ma'am, you're a damn fine rider. I guess you know that."
Biggie nodded. She's never been one for modesty.
"I was wondering if you'd be willing to come out once a week and give the girls lessons. Misty and I have been doing it, but we're not in your class— not even close."
"You're gonna teach them to jump?" Monica wasn't sure about that.
"Eventually. Right now, we're just teaching them to sit a horse, trot, canter— that sort of thing. The main thing Grace wants them to do is care for the horses, but Laura says they should have some fun if they're going to have to do all the work."
"I agree," Biggie said. "Besides, it's good exercise. About my coming, I'm not sure. I'll have to think about it."
"Well, do that." Hamp turned to go. "We, Laura and I, we'd sure be happy if you could though."
"Does Laura know you've asked me?" Biggie wanted to know.
"Not yet." He smiled. "But I can assure you, she'll be delighted with the idea."
Biggie stood up. "We'd better get back to town."
As we approached the house, we saw the camp girls. Each one had a large trash bag and was picking up limbs and twigs blown down by the storm. Grace sat on a bench watching.
"Good morning," she called out when she saw us. "You're out bright and early."
Biggie looked at her watch. "Not so early," she said, looking toward the girls.
Grace saw the look. "You probably think it's wrong for us to make the girls work like this. Right?"
"Well…" Biggie said.
"It's part of the program, you see. Being productive brings with it a feeling of self-esteem that no amount of meaningless exercise can do. The growth process that takes place here has nothing to do with diet, really, although we do abide by certain nutritional protocols. What we offer them is a mind-body-spirit cleansing that is designed to last a lifetime."
Monica made a face.
"Hmmm…," Biggie said.
"If I had more time, I could make you understand." Grace's face hardened. "But I'm sure you need to be on your way."
"Yes, we do…"
Just then Rob Parish power-walked by. Monica nudged me. He stopped briefly in front of Grace, walking in place. "I see you're still playing Simon Legree."
Grace ignored him and he marched on, elbows flapping at his sides.