CAMILLE

By Celia Jolley

A Just for Fun Fiction

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"The more I know of the world,

the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man

whom I can really love.  I require so much!"

Jane Austen, "Sense and Sensibility"

Camille sank down into a soft chair in their parlor, fanning herself with her graduation folder, the school's initials embossed in gold on the front.  The ceremony seemed like an eternity, and the reception at the church hall had dragged out even longer.  Her cheeks ached from forcing a smile for hours.

"I'm glad that's over," she declared with relief.

"Now that you are done with your schooling, darling, what would you like to do?" her father asked.

"Truly, Pa?  You know how much I loved going to stay with your kinfolk down in Texas when I was younger.  It didn't seem fair when you took Elise down last time and wouldn't let me go with you.  You left her for such a long visit when she was my age, but it's my turn now."

Her father had a sudden spell of coughing while her mother beat him on the back.

"You okay, Pa?  Well, as I was saying, what I'd love more than anything is to go down to your Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Amos' ranch for the summer and maybe stay even longer.  I haven't been there since I was twelve years old, and it was the happiest summer of my life!"

"Is there any particular reason you are wanting to go right now that you should be telling your mother and me about?  I mean, are you sure it doesn't have anything to do with that Patrick boy?"  Her father seemed overly anxious.

"I don't ever want to hear that name again!  I can't stand the wastrel.  It would be hard to keep that snake from crossing my path here since we have the same friends and move in the same circles.  But really and truly, I just want to get away."

Camille saw her parents looking long and hard at each other until finally her mother wilted and her father sighed , "I'll see what can be arranged.  I'll have to write and wait for a response.  You have to remember that they are getting up in years now."

"Tell then I can be a big help.  I can wash dishes and hang laundry out on the line.  I'll milk the cow and muck the hay out of the stalls and do anything as long as I can go riding nearly every day.  The city doesn't provide me much of a chance here, you have to admit.  The small corral out back is hardly more than a horse could trot in a dog and pony show."

"Think on it, and I'll write a letter after supper if that's what you really want.  I would have to arrange my business in order to take the time away to chaperon you on the train.  But it would be good to see my aunt and uncle again.  I've always had a soft spot for the ranch since they used to let me come spend some summers working on their place in my teenage years before I went away to college."

"I'm surprised at you, Camille," her mother spouted.  "I thought you'd be wanting to go to the seashore like we usually do or up in the mountains to the hot springs.  Isn't that where you'd most likely see your friends?  Your sister did not have fond memories of her time in Texas."

"Then why did she stay there so long?" Camille huffed.  "Besides, sometimes I feel like I've outgrown my friends.  The older I get, the more shallow they seem to become.  They start back-biting as soon as someone is out of the room.  I think a change of scenery for awhile would be refreshing."

"Aren't there any young men you'd want to be spending time with now that you are out of school and have become a young lady?" her mother cautiously asked.

"Definitely not!  You might think that the girls are the gossips, the guys are worse, coarser, and just simply awful!"  Camille stopped before she said too much.  She did not want her parents to know what her friends and former admirer had told tales about her comparing her to her sister.

"I see.  Well then, a wardrobe for the ranch would be simpler since you won't need as many nice dresses, though some cotton ones would be cooler.  It is hot down there!  Let's go up and take an inventory of what you have and what you might need.  You've grown taller since last summer, and well, your figure has finally blossomed so that much of the things from last year won't do."

"I'll need a pair of boots, not lace up ones, but real cowboy boots and a hat.  A split skirt or two would be nice.  Nothing fancy.  I would only have to impress the armadillos."

"Still, you'll need some nice church dresses.  You never know who you might meet down there."

"Whatever you think.  Some simple calico would be serviceable and some nice skirts and blouses.  It doesn't matter if they are store-bought.  I just want to be ready to go as soon as Daddy can get free."

At the supper table, her mother opened a letter saying, "This is from your sister Elise."  After reading it silently for a few minutes her mother paused to say, "She seems to have become quite the little housewife since her marriage to George."  Reading a little more, her mother stood up squealing and ran to hug her husband.  "She's expecting!   Isn't that exciting!"

Her father used the cloth napkin to wipe his brow.  "Yes dear, I'm sure she will be a good mother now that she has the chance."

"What is that supposed to mean?  Of course she'll have a chance."  Camille did not see the look pass between her mother and father.  "When is the baby due?"  She just hoped it wouldn't interfere with her trip plans.  

Since her sister had always been a bit on the unmanageable side, she and Elise had never been close.  Her last few years at home only created turmoil.  Last summer had been consumed by Elise's wedding.  The summer before that, Elise had spent many months in Texas and never even finished her schooling.  Camille didn't want this summer to be displaced by a baby.  It seemed her parents had finally breathed a sigh of relief when George had taken Elise off their hands, and she hated to see them all caught up in her sister's affairs once again.

"She's due in the fall, probably October.  This is just wonderful!" her mother exclaimed.

"Oh, oh, and put in this good news from Elise in your letter.  I know they will be so happy for her."

Camille rolled her eyes on her way out and went up to read one of the old westerns that had been a favorite as a young girl.  She soon forgot her sister and hugged herself hardly believing she'd soon to be at the ranch.  With her education finished, she looked forward to a few lazy days of just pleasure reading before she left.

One shopping trip, and everything was ready.  Camille had a time of it getting her mother to agree to purchasing clothes off the rack rather than from the dressmaker.  "It's alright if they are not fitted and are a bit loose.  I don't want anything that will cling to me when it's hot and humid."

Her mother looked at her funny then sighed.  "Perhaps you are right, but as soon as you are back home, you will get a proper wardrobe.  These cheap things won't last more than a few months, I'd wager."

Camille was especially pleased with the tooled leather boots.  Even though they would be covered by her skirts, she would know just how they looked under her hem without even seeing them.  They were prettier to her than a diamond necklace or pearl earrings to her.  Once in her room, she propped them up on the footboard of her bed so she could glance at them as she read.  A happy sigh escaped.  She was content to wait until she got to Texas to purchase a hat as her mother was not at all convinced that she should be seen in one that cowboys wore.  Camille knew her father would not object once they got there.

The smoking black engine was a behemoth eating up the iron tracks as it pulled up to the station.  Camille was so excited, her heart was nearly jumping out of her skin.  She clung to a carpet bag that she was keeping with her while her father held a basket of food her mother had insisted on sending.

"She thinks we'll starve," he winked.  Then he kissed his wife on the cheek.

Camille hugged her mother goodbye.  "I hope you're able to go see Elise while I'm gone," she said though she silently added, I'm so glad I won't have to.

Once seated, they waved as long as she was in sight, then settled back on the plush seats.  Camille loved the sway of the train as it rocked down the tracks.  Her father told her fond stories of his days on the ranch until he began to yawn.  Then he shook open his newspaper and promptly fell asleep.  Camille watched the scenery glide by observing the horses that startled and ran as if racing the line of cars alongside them.  She hoped Uncle Amos would let her have a special horse to ride all her own while on the ranch. 

Upon their arrival, the first horseflesh she saw was the team of work horses hitched to a wagon.  Uncle Amos had sent some young cowpoke to drive them to their destination.  "Would you like to refresh yourself with a glass of lemonade from the café before we head on out?  Aunt Beatrice wanted me to be sure and ask.  By the way, I'm Jacob, but most folks call me Jake.  I think I met you a couple of years ago, sir, when you last came to visit with your daughter."

"Nice to see you again, Jake.  This is my daughter Camille."  The cowboy shook her father's hand but hardly glanced her direction without so much as a smile on his tan face.  "Why don't you get out of the sun and wait in the café like he suggested, Camille.  Jake and I can wait for them to unload the baggage car."

She did not want to appear too fragile, but the glass of lemonade surely did sound good.  "Thank you, Father.  I believe I'd like to do just that she said with her back turned to the hired hand.  She wondered if he was the best the ranch had to offer?  Camille had heard that cowboys went by some code of honor in the treatment of ladies.  She'd remembered some kind cowboys who never seemed too busy to help her saddle up or practice throwing a lasso when she was a girl.

"I hope Gus is still there," she mentioned to her father as he walked her across a dusty street to the café to pay for her lemonade.

"Gus?  Oh, you mean Uncle Amos' head wrangler.  I don't know, sugar.  He was older than my uncle and is probably retired by now.  I thought he had tougher wrinkled skin than a gator when I was a kid and that was many a years ago,"  he laughed.

Camille felt better after the cold drink but was waiting on the porch when the wagon pulled up.  Anxious to get there, aren't you, darling?" her father chuckled as he helped her up to sit between the driver and himself.  She listened as the men talked over her but took in all the familiar sights.  Camille took a deep satisfied breath.  It smelled heavenly with spring's green growth of lush grass.

"Look!" Camille exclaimed suddenly pointing to a field.  "There're some bluebonnets.  Aren't they gorgeous!"  

The cowboy had grabbed his rifle when she had unexpectedly broke into the men's conversation.  Then he settled back putting it back under the seat while shaking his head.

"Thought you'd spotted a wildcat, they way you hollered," he muttered.

"Yes, sugar, it's been awhile since I've seen a prettier field of flowers.  I wish your mother could see that, then maybe she wouldn't think Texas such a dry wasteland."   

"Come this fall, it'll be pretty scorched except where the river runs through it.  Just the same, it has a way of sticking to your heart tighter than a burr to your socks.  This hill country is a sight nicer than the flat land west of here where I'm from."

Camille stole a look up at the young driver who never gave her a second glance.  She was used to turning heads, so she figured he must have a sweetheart already or he was just plain stuck up.  Either way, she planned on steering clear of him.  His hair may have once been light brown but had so many bleached streaks that he looked almost blond.  His blue eyes were like a oasis, a pool of water in his lean brown face.  It didn't matter if he was good looking, not a bit.  Camille had already decided he was like all the other young men she'd known, and she would never give him the time of day.  He caught her looking at him and frowned with a clenched jaw.  The feeling was mutual it seemed.

The welcome was much warmer at the ranch.  Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Amos came out with hugs for her and handshakes and slaps on the back for her father.  

"It's been too long, sweetheart.  I hardly recognize you.  I guess I figured you'd just stay that little cowgirl who was here last time, but now you are a young lady all grown up," Aunt Bea said.  "Come inside.  Dinner's on the table."

It was comfort food for sure.  "This is so delicious that I'll have to watch my portions or I won't fit in my same clothes for long," Camille stated.  Her father dropped his fork with a loud clatter and all the adults looked funny at each other.  She thought it was very strange.

"Just like your sister," the cowhand Jake muttered under his breath so only she could hear.  She didn't know why he ate in here like family instead of with the other wranglers in their mess hall.  Somehow knowing he meant it only for her ears to hear didn't sit well with her either causing her to clench her teeth.

After the pie was eaten, Camille jumped up to help clear the table.  "I plan to be as helpful as possible, Aunt Beatrice.  I don't want my visit her to be a burden."

"Too late for that," Jake whispered in her ear as he passed by her on the way out.  He had some nerve!  

"You couldn't be a burden, but I'm not too proud to accept help.  Things are pretty simple around here without much for a young lady to do.  I hope you won't get bored."

"I just want to learn to cook like that, help around the house and barn.  But what I really would like to do is take time to ride every day if possible.  I've been so looking forward to being here on the ranch.  I don't need any other entertainment."  

"I think that can be arranged," her great aunt winked at her husband of fifty years.

"Sure thing, sugar pie.  After you are done helping in here, come out to the corral and look the herd over.  Jake will help you pick a good mount to be yours while you are here."

That dampened her excitement a little wishing it was his former wrangler instead.  "Is Gus still around?"

"Why yes, he's still here, but has slowed down a mite.  Cowboys never take their boots off when it comes to ranching, but he's some crippled up at his age.  We've promised him his place here as long as he's still breathing the fresh Texas air."  He laughed, "Ol' Gus, spends most his time spinning tall tales and spouting his cowboy poetry.  He'll be happy to see you though.  Didn't he used to call you his Cowgirl Camie?"

She laughed.  "I'd forgotten that, but it sounds about right."

Talking with Aunt Bea while doing dishes and making preparations for the next meal was as pleasant as she remembered.  Learning to make a custard was not going to be easy, but she was determined to achieve one that no one could tell wasn't made by her great-aunt's hands.  When  Aunt Bea went to lay down and her father and Uncle Amos were settled in their old leather chairs jawing, Camille wandered about.  She came to the corral and hung her arms over the  fence gazing at the horses.  A couple came up to nuzzle her while the others took no interest in her at all.  She petted the friendly ones' soft noses and patted their necks while gazing into their chocolate eyes.  

"A horse tamer, I see.  Well, either one of these two are broken for a lady to ride.  Any preference?"

It was Jake.  Evidently, Uncle Amos had told him of her desire to ride.

"Which one still has a little life in its step?"

"The Morgan.  She rides well but never took to being a cutter horse with the cows.  We keep her as a breeder.   She'll do for you.  She's pregnant, but I doubt that will bother you none," he said the last with almost a sneer.

"I'll try her after lunch tomorrow then.  I'll be helping Aunt Bea in the morning."

"It might be best to ride early mornings unless you are planning on sleeping in late.  It'd be pretty hot in the afternoon, and I get busy helping Amos run the ranch."

"First thing in the morning does sound good."

"You'd have to get up before the sunrise to beat Beatrice at her breakfast fixin'.  She gets up before the birds start singing.  I'll take you out right after breakfast.  That'll be early enough, though I'm warning you there will be plenty of times when I'm not available to help you."

"I can saddle up myself.  I'm not helpless."

He snorted and walked off pulling his hat down harder on his head.

Indeed, the next morning the birds did wake Camille up.  The smell of bacon and biscuits lured her into the kitchen after she quickly dressed in her riding skirt, hardly taking time to put up her hair.  Her boots took no times at all to slip on.

Her father and Uncle Amos were still eating, but Jake leaned against the open doorway with his back to her evidently having eaten already.

"Good morning, Sunshine!  How'd you sleep?"  Aunt Bea made her forget the cowboy, and she enjoyed lingering over her food.  Coffee had never tasted so good, and Camille didn't know how she had lived so long without it.  The fresh cream from the small ironstone pitcher pooled in the black brew until it blended into a light mud color.  Perfect.  She had a second cup before she stood to clear the table.

"You run along now, honey.  This is the best time to go on your ride in the cool of the morning.  Jake's been waiting to take you."

Camille looked at the regulator clock.  It was only six-thirty, still early, but Jake had already left.  She found he had saddled her horse and was mounted on his own which seemed more anxious to ride than she was.

"You don't have to do this.  I can saddle a horse by myself.  I don't need you to ride along with me either.  Surely you have other more important things to do."

"I'm under orders."  He turned and went on ahead without waiting for her to mount.

If her great uncle thought to saddle her with this unpleasant man, she would have to speak to him.  This cowboy found a way to infuriate her every time he opened his mouth.  But she was determined not to let one hired hand ruin her summer.

Lagging a good distance behind so she wouldn't eat his dust or have to listen to his grumping, Camille began to relax letting the great outdoors to seep into her soul.  They rode up the trail to where craggy pines staggered the shade on a hillside that offered a great view of the expanse of the ranch land.  She stopped to take it all in while breathing in the fresh sage scented air.

"It's my favorite lookout.  Here."  He offered his canteen.

She drank deeply.  the dry air had left her parched.  When she handed it back, Camille watched as he closed his eyes and swallowed long.  A drip escaped down his chin and caught in the stubble on his chin.

When he caught her staring at him, he startled her by asking, "Why did you really come."  There was an edge to his voice.

It took a minute for her to gather her senses and simply replied, "I don't have to answer to you.  I don't know you and don't wish to know you."  She turned and led the way back down to the ranch breaking into a gallop once on the level.

Her straight silky hair had come loose.  She was dusty, and her legs were a little shaky, unused to riding so long.  Camille felt good by the time she had taken her horse's saddle off and curried her and walked past where Jake was still brushing his horse.  My, but she was already starving even after that big breakfast which seemed hours ago.  She did not notice the young man staring after her as her long brown locks swung with her hips while she strode to the house.

Washing at the outside pump before entering, she asked, "What can I help you with, Aunt Bea?"

"Looks like the ride put a little color in your cheeks, Sunshine.  Why don't you sit a spell first and have a cookie with something cool to drink.   Let's visit.  I'm so used to being the only female in a man's world out here on the ranch that I would enjoy some girl talk," her great aunt chuckled.  It made her laugh lines take on a beauty all their own.

They idled the rest of the morning away chatting before they jumped up to put lunch on the table.  Boots soon pounded up the porch steps.  Camille slipped off to her room to freshen up and to redo her hair which had hung loose since her ride.

"Where's my Cowgirl Camie?"

She heard his raspy voice and ran out of her room to give him a hug.  He had shrunk and she had grown, but it was like time had stood still.  He was still the same ol' Gus to her.  He ate the noon meal with them and kept them all in stitches, except for Jake who only mangaged to crack a smile once in a while.

After those dinner dishes were done, Camille took down the clean laundry that had already dried on the line.  She buried her face in an armful of it.  Nothing smelled as sweet as clean clothes hung outside in the country air.  Once finished folding these and placing them in the basket, she took it in on her hip and returned with a wet load.  These she hung on the line watching as they flapped in the breeze.  This was her favorite chore.  Next, she swept off the porch before going in to help with supper preparations.  Everything was smelling so good she could hardly stand it.

"Why am I so hungry here?  It must be fresh air and your good cooking that woke up my appetite.  I think that's one of the reasons I've longed to come back here all these years," she said giving her Aunt Bea a sideways squeeze around her waist.  "I don't know that I'll ever be ready to go back to the city.  I'm already so spoiled here."

"Spoiled?  You've been working hard ever since you set you boots down off that train, sweet girl.  I think your mother raised you right because it's a pure pleasure to have you here."

"It's like I've really come home.  It's so peaceful.  Elise spent a lot of years keeping the house churned up worse than clabbered milk."  Camille wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"Did you notice a difference when she came home after being here?"

"I was too busy with school, clubs, and friends that I wasn't around her much.  I guess I did notice, come to think of it, that she was a bit more settled and not running off after trouble.  I had spent a lot of years avoiding her, so I hadn't given her much thought.  Then she was caught up in her courtship with George, next with the wedding."
.  
"Elise let me pray with her to become a Christian while she was here.  We saw quite a change in her attitude when she was with us after that.  She seemed to grow from a selfish, rebellious girl into one with joy in spite of her circumstances."

"Well, she always seemed to have the best of circumstances as far as I could see, but wasted them with bad choices.  I'm glad to know she became a Christian, but she never said anything to me.  I guess you could say she helped me turn to the Lord after seeing the hard road she had chosen.  I decided early on that I wanted the straight and narrow."

"I'm glad to hear it, dear."

"Do you mind telling me why that hired hand eats in here with you?  I mean not even Gus takes all his meals in here.  The cowboy, what's-his-name, doesn't seem like a very nice person to have around."

Aunt Bea threw back her head and laughed.  "Jake does seem a little bent out of shape since you've been here for some reason, but for the life of me, I don't know why.  He's usually all smiles around us, happy-go-lucky even.  Maybe he's just used to being around menfolk and is a little rusty around a pretty little thing like you.  Actually, Jake is your Uncle Amos' top hand.  He's really taken a load off his shoulders now that Gus is, well retired.  Your uncle has slowed down too, but Jake seems to take to the job like fish to water.  He's our great nephew on my side, by the way, but no relation to you.  He spent a lot of summers here when he got old enough.  Since he has an older brother to take over their family ranch, he was happy to come work for us.  Just like you and your sister, he and his brother rubbed horns a few too many times.  Their loss, our gain, as your uncle would say."

"But does he always have to go riding with me?"

"I'm afraid so, darling.  We can trust Jake to be a gentleman around a young lady, whereas we can't say that about the other hired hands.  It isn't really safe for a young woman to go riding alone.  There are some bad sorts lurking around, cattle thieves.  So your uncle decided that if he can't spare Jake to take you riding in the morning, you'll have to wait until he can.  Sorry dear.  I don't think you realize that this is still a little of the wild west here, and you are a very pretty gal.  Sometimes those things don't mix well."

Camille sighed.  "If that's the only way, I'll just pretend he's not there."

"Is he that bad?  Maybe your uncle should have a talk with him."

"No, please don't.  I can handle this.  Perhaps I'm judging him too harshly from my other bad impressions of young men.  I'd rather wash my hands of the whole lot of them."

Once again Aunt Bea's pleasant laughter filled the kitchen.  "Give it time, darling.  You can take my word on it, you won't always feel this way."

"Well, I've yet to meet a young man I can truly respect."

Jake grimaced as he came in to sit down with her uncle and father catching the last of the conversation.

"What's this, sugar plum?  Didn't any of those city slickers make a good impression on you?" her uncle asked with a grin.

Camille snorted.  "What do you think, Uncle Amos?  They don't make 'em like you and Gus any more." 

They all laughed, and even Jake could hardly hide a grin.  Her uncle said, "Take Jake here.  He can work with the best of 'em, but he put his time in at that college in Georgetown.  Did you learn anything worthwhile over there, Jake, that's worth its salt on the home place?"

Camille was taken aback by her uncle's statement and turned to look, really look at the cowhand with surprise.

"I've put into practice a thing or two with grazing practices, doctoring and breeding, but it takes mostly brute strength and stubbornness to run this place," he said with a wink trying to pass off the attention on himself.

"Where we're from, the only thing they work hard at is a game of tennis.  They are a bunch of simpering cads," she said with disgust.

"Honey, perhaps you are speaking a little harshly," her father chided.

"Name one, just one, Father, that would be equal to life here on the ranch."

He thought for a moment than shook his head chuckling.  "Maybe you are right.  Not too many with calloused hands from where we came."

"It's not just that, Pa.  It's their character.  They are as shallow as a mud puddle."

"Are the young women any better?"  Jake broke in unexpectedly with a tiny bit of a snarl.

Camille thought this over.  "No, not as a whole, I'm sorry to say, but a select few of my friends are better than the others."

"Why do you think this is, Henry?" Aunt Bea asked her father.

He scratched his neck and then said, "Maybe it's partly because of the churches.  They have become little more than social clubs, to see and be seen, with watered down sermons.  It's been years since I've heard eternal damnation preached, nor even a mention of hell to put the fear of God in anyone.  But most of the blame would have to lie with the parents.  We haven't been the best at that ourselves, as you know."

"But that's not necessarily true, Father.  You are the same parents who raised both my sister and myself and look how differently we turned out."

"Perhaps we learned from our mistakes with Elise and were more vigilant in our watch care over you."

"You said yourself, darling, that you came to the Lord early after seeing so many of your sister's wrong choices," Aunt Bea commented.  "I think it can have everything to do with finding the Lord in the days of your youth."

"Some people are bound and determined to slide down the banister of life with all the splinters pointed upward," Uncle Amos added as they all chuckled in agreement.  Then the dinner conversation lightened along more pleasant lines.

"Will you be ready to ride out in the morning, miss?" Jake asked as he was leaving the table.

"I'm sure you have more important things than to babysit me, but if you have to ride anywhere, I wouldn't mind tagging along.  Just tell me if I am in the way."

"Yes ma'am, you can be sure of that," he answered with a scowl.

After helping with the supper dishes, Camille found herself yawning.  "I think I'll turn in early, Aunt Bea.  Good night."  She gave her aunt, uncle, and father each a kiss on the cheek, then went in to bed.  She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow."

The next morning she rose early and was sitting down eating breakfast when Jake came in.  He and Uncle Amos talked about what needed to be done.  "I'll ride along and check the water ditches for a ways, then come back and take a turn trying to break that new bronco."

"Am I able to ride along when you check the water?"  Camille asked timidly.

"Sure, you can keep your eyes peeled for rattlers while I'm wading in pulling out the snags," he said winking at Uncle Amos before draining his coffee mug.  "Thanks, Aunt Bea."

"Maybe, I could get a little target practice in so I can shoot them between the eyes while I'm at it," she retorted much to her aunt and uncle's glee.  "Do you have another canteen, Aunt Bea?  I'd hate for Jake to have to be stingy with his drinking water."

Uncle Amos slapped his knee chortling, "She's got you there, Jake.  You'll have to get up earlier in the morning to have that girl beat, all right."

She borrowed her aunt's leather gloves, wide brimmed hat, and canteen and headed for the barn.

"They get along about as well as a couple of prickly pears," Uncle Amos commented after they left.

"You never can tell what might bloom.  Prickly pears bloom in a desert, so anything is possible.  Now wouldn't that be something!"

"Don't count yer chickens before they hatch, Beatrice."

"No, but I'll not gather 'em all, but will leave some to brood."

Once saddled, Camille was happy to follow Jake.  Neither one of them felt the need to talk.  Birds made a swell of song rising from the earth with grasshoppers leaping and crickets fiddling.  Frogs were croaking from some scum covered eddy in the stream.  Jake dropped his reigns and slid from the saddle going down on his belly to pull on a heavy branch larger than a man's arm and twice as long that was making an unwanted dam where it caught other smaller branches and debris.  He yanked it away so it wouldn't fall in again.

"I'll bring the wagon around in a few weeks and pick up the snags for firewood.  Water soaked wood won't do us any good as it is now."

As the morning proceeded, he repeated the process several times.  Sometimes he had to pull his boots off and wade in.  Once a particularly heavy log was being stubborn, so he lassoed it.  His horse knew just how to back up until it was up and over the bank.  Camille had remained quiet unless asking about a flower or a bird.  Jake seemed to know what they were.  It was getting hot, and she wasn't sorry when he turned them to head back.  Her canteen had been empty for awhile.

Aunt Bea had an early lunch ready for the.  Camille listened to the hum of conversation around the table.  "I don't want you to try to get on that bronco yet, Jake.  Just keep trying to break it to the rope.  He has a wild eye.  I don't recommend climbing on the corral fence either missy.  He has a mean kick and bite as a couple of cowboys can attest to."

Her aunt shooed her off to go watch along with her father and Uncle Amos.  Several of the other wrangles were perched on the fence watching.  Even Gus was calling out advice.

Camille found herself tense and held her breath as the stallion screamed and lunged in fury.  She had no idea how Jake held on.  He never took his eyes off the animal while leading it in a circle around the corral.  Finally, man and beast were soaked in sweat, and the horse hung his head so that Jake could shake off his lasso.  Camille felt exhausted just watching.  She looked over at her dad who was whooping it up with the other wranglers who had jovially been cheering the young foreman on.  She headed back to the house hoping Aunt Bea had that lemonade she mentioned.  

A little later, Jake came in with her father and uncle.  They removed their boots as always at the door.  The bronco buster looked almost as beat as the horse.  His hair that had been plastered to his head in sweat, was now dripping from holding it under the pump in the yard.  His forehead had a white blaze across it where his hat kept it out of the sun.

As soon as lemonade and cookies were gone, he excused himself and went out to the shaded porch, stretched out in a hammock and fell asleep.  By the time the dishes were washed and put away, Camille glanced out and saw he had disappeared.  It had only been a catnap.

"Would you mind if I go lay down for a bit, Aunt Bea?"

"Not at all, honey.  I usually do that myself.  Your Uncle Amos falls asleep in his chair, but I like to stretch out on my bed.  We don't sleep long, but feel better after our little siestas.

Camille thought she'd drop off like she had the night before, but found herself puzzling over the head wrangler, bronco-busting college man.  Finally, she did sleep so soundly that it was hard to wake up afterwards when she heard the clanging of pans in the kitchen.  Aunt Bea was humming as she was making many large pans of peach cobbler.

"The men are barbequing meat outside for us tonight.  Thought we'd have a little singing around the campfire later on while your father is still here.  He always did have a nice voice.  Do you like to sing, Camille?"

"Only in a group.  I don't do solos.  Will Gus recite some of his poetry?"

"Does a bird fly?  Of course he will.  The man usually goes to sleep with the chickens, but when there's a campfire, he stays up with the young bucks."

Camille looked out the window and asked, "Are all these your hands, Uncle Amos?"  Camille was surprised at the crowd of cowboys gathered around the campfire making her feel a little shy.

"Nah, word got out to a few of the surrounding ranches like usual, and they rode in.  There's nothing like a singing.  Wait till you hear my nephew.  He can plunk that guitar and really yodel!"

"Like in the Swiss Alps?"

"Not quite.  It's just a cowboy style of singing we do down here in Texas.  Your Pa sure loved these campfires when he was a stripling."

After they ate, the young woman hung back in the shadows on the porch away from the flames to watch the scene in front of her.  She found herself caught up in the music though many of the songs were unknown to her.  Jake did have a haunting tone to his voice that was quite compelling.  She was almost sorry when they quieted to hear Gus quote his favorite original selections.  He kept them laughing, but it was evident he had the respect of all the men as he entertained them.

Finally, Aunt Bea found her and slipped her arm around her.  "Would you like to help me put out the cobblers on the porch.  They bring their own tin plates, forks and cups, so we won't have to worry about cleaning much up afterwards."

As the men filed by, they always said, "Thank you," but snuck ganders at her making her feel embarrassed.

Later when the gathering broke up, snatches of men's voices could be heard as they rode away still singing.  It was quite beautiful.  She finally went and sat up close to the fire to watch it burn down into embers.

"I didn't see you around the campfire earlier," Jake said surprising her.  She had not heard him approach.

"I was a little shy of so many cowpokes.  I sat over there," she answered pointing to the porch.

"How'd you like it?"

"It was captivating, unlike any music I've heard.  You especially have a lovely voice.  I could have listened for hours.  Do cowboys really sing to the herds?"

"Sometimes we do if the cattle seem stirred up by a storm or coyotes or some such thing.  Usually they're just a bunch of big babies wanting to hear a lullaby, but a stampede is no child's play however.  It can get serious as fast as a bolt of lightning."

They fell quiet just watching the flames die down.

"You're nothing like your sister," he said throwing a twig in the fire.  "You surprised me."

"You knew Elise?"  It made sense though she'd not put two and two together.  Of course, if there was a good looking man, her sister would have had her claws in him.  "You fell for her too, then, huh?"

He looked up startled while she stared straight at him unflinching in her gaze.  "Perhaps at first," Jake admitted as he ran his fingers through his hair before settling his hat back down.  "Well, truthfully, I fell hard, but then got back up quickly, dusted myself off and didn't look back.. She was a real piece of work."

"She's that alright.  What made you walk away?"

"She led me on, and I bought it hook, line, and sinker, until, well, you know..."

"No, I don't know.  What?"

"Till she started showing."

Camille jumped up and practically shouted,  "What's that supposed to mean?" But she began trembling as realization hit her.

"You can't tell me you didn't know she was sent way out here until she had her baby!"  He was standing now too looking like he didn't believe her.  Sneering, he said, "You're her sister.  Surely you are not that naive."

Salty tears burned her eyes, but the flames burned them away before they spilled.  Camille could taste them in her throat though.  She gulped for air like a fish out of water with her heart flopping in her chest.

He stared wide-eyed, choking out the words, "You truly didn't know, did you.  Well, I'll be jiggered.  I think I just let a potecat out of the bag.  Your father's goin' kill me, not to mention Uncle Amos."

Camille's head was swimming with all the things that had been said that were just beginning to make sense.  She covered her face whispering to herself, "I can't believe I was so stupid.'

Suddenly she stalked over and gripped Jake's arm demanding, "Where's the baby?  Did it live?  Was it a boy or a girl?"

He tried to get away as if bit by a rattler, but she wouldn't let him loose.  In fact, she grabbed his jacket by the collar and got up in his face with her eyes glittering in the firelight.  "You're the one who started this conversation, and you owe me more of an explanation."

He threw his hands up in frustration, "Listen, I didn't know, didn't want to know about the baby.  Your aunt handled that.  All I remember is hearing her and Uncle Amos talking about how happy some childless couple was to have the baby.  You'll have to ask Aunt Bea, but she'll have my hide for sure.  I was furious at the time thinking that your sister had tried to trap me into marrying her without telling me about her baby on the way."

Camille finally let go while he shrugged his shoulders glad to be free from her grip.  "In fact, we all thought maybe you were being sent out her for the same reaons.  Not even your father was convinced a hundred percent that it might not be the reason you up and wanted to come here all a sudden like..."

The furious girl slapped him hard.  "How dare you!" she hissed.

It was too much.  She turned back but couldn't stop the sobs.  She had never felt so alone, misjudged by her family.  If there was somewhere to go, she would have run away from it all.  Camille felt angry, hurt and betrayed while her heart felt crushed.

The touch of his hands on her shoulders instantly chilled her.  She shook him off and marched into the house covering her ears like a child, not wanting to hear anything else the cruel cowboy had to say.  Hoping everyone had gone to bed, she was glad to find it so and blew out the last lamp.

Camille tossed and turned and did not find sleep until the wee hours.  She finally slept until her father came in to bid her goodbye.  

"Your mother and I will surely miss you, sugar."  He mistook her tears pooling in her eyes as sadness at parting.  He patted her hand.  "Have a wonderful time this summer.  Let me know when you are ready to come home."

She swallowed back biting words and simply nodded.  Then he was gone.  Camille didn't have the time or strength to ask question that she wasn't sure she wanted to hear answered.  She slipped quietly into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee and didn't bother adding cream.

"You're awfully quiet this morning, dear.  Are you sad to see your father go?" Aunt Bea looked at her with her head cocked to the side knowing something was amiss.  

"Not really," she shrugged sitting down and picking at her cold breakfast.  Everyone else had eaten and left.  

"Jake hung around for a little while.  I think he was wondering if you wanted to go riding, but I told him to let you sleep.  They went out to look for calves today.  He thought you might like that.  He said to tell you that they'd probably do it again tomorrow.  You could go then."

She only snorted, and washed her plate, fork and cup in the suds in the sink.  "Do you have any clothes to hang on the line this morning, Aunt Bea?" she asked suddenly wanting to change the subject.  Camille never wanted to go anywhere with that wretched cowboy again, even if it meant the end to her riding.  She only wanted to go on long walks to the stream.  Surely she could be trusted to do that by herself.  

After hanging the wet clothes and helping to make bread, it was just the two of them for a simple lunch of leftovers.  She practically choked on small talk.  Camille could tell her aunt knew something was wrong.  She decided to go for a walk saying, "I'll be back after a while, Aunt Bea."

The wranglers were all out looking for calves, and the ranch looked deserted.  This time she decided to follow the creek, but soon found that her boots were not meant for walking with blisters throbbing.   Instead, she found a large, smooth rock to sit upon while dipping her sore feet in the cold water.  Then she leaned back upon a tree ruminating on things.  The gurgling water soon sung her to sleep.  

When she woke up, the sky was blushing with a sunset, and she began slapping at mosquitoes.  Camille couldn't believe she'd slept through supper.  She needed to get back before it grew any darker or she'd lose her way.  Someone was calling her name.  It was Jake.  She decided to ignore him since it was still dusk, and knew it couldn't be much farther.  

He rode up on her and got down to stand in her way with his hands on his hips and his hat tilted back.  "What do you mean going off and scaring your Aunt Bea like that?  She's beside herself with worry!  Uncle Amos has every hand on the place out looking for you, even Gus."

"I fell asleep by the creek."  She tried to walk by him.  

"Listen, I'm sorry I said all that stuff to you.  I was stupid, okay?  Since you've been here, I've been struggling for all those angry feelings about your sister that I thought I had gotten rid of and instead have been taking it out on you.  I'm sorry."

"I am not my sister!  Let me by."

Instead, he picked her up and slung her on his horse as if she didn't weigh as much as a sack of potatoes.  Then he swung up behind her before she could even squawk out a protest.

"We can geat home faster  this way, and I don't want Aunt Bea worrying one minute more than she has to."  Then he pulled out his pistol and shot into the air.  "I have to call the search off .  They'll know to come back to the ranch when they hear that."  Once back, he let her slide down to go meet her aunt who was silhouetted in the doorway.

"I am so sorry, Aunt Bea.  I fell asleep by the stream and was almost home when Jake found me.  I'm worse than one of those stray calves, I guess.  I'm sorry to have caused you to worry."  She found herself burying her face into the kind woman's soft shoulder.

"There, there.  The important thing is that you are home safe in one piece.  I just couldn't help thinking about the cougar that's been leaving its huge paw prints down by the creek.  Maybe it's time your Uncle Amos taught you to shoot.  I know it would ease my mind knowing you'd have a little protection."

At the mention of the cougar, Camille shuddered.  "I think I'd like that myself."

"Here's your supper I saved back for you."  She pulled off the cloth that kept the flies from the cold supper.  "Do you want a glass of water or milk?"

"I'll get myself some water.  You can sit down," but Camille winced as her blisters rubbed.   Her Uncle Amos came in with Gus following on his boot heels.  She ate humble pie sincerely apologizing profusely.  Gus looked at her and said in an old man's stage whisper.  "Tomorrow we're goin' to talk, missy."  

She nodded and said, "Yes, sir."  Then she wondered how she could already be tired. There was a crick in her neck from leaning up against the tree while sleeping on a rock.  Camille was glad this day was over.  She got up and washed her dishes and went to bed.

The next morning Camille was up bright and early.  She avoided looking at Jake and politely declined his invitation to ride along with the cowboys.  He shrugged, slapped on his hat and left while she looked into the depths of her second cup of coffee.

"What chores are we doing today, Aunt Bea?"

"You can gather the eggs, then we'll do a little extra cooking and baking since tomorrow's the Sabbath.  Do you realize you left home nearly a week ago?  Do you miss it?"

"No!" She startled herself with her sudden denouncement.  

"You know, you are more than welcome to stay here with us as long as you wish, that is if your parents are in agreement.  I have to admit, you've lightened my load considerably.  I don't know when, if ever, that I've had someone to help me as much as you do, sweet girl. You're going to spoil me rotten.  If you ever do leave, I'll have to get Uncle Amos to hire me two town girls to take your place."

"Thank you, Aunt Bea."

"And just so you know, I'm patient letting God work some things out in your heart, but also want you to know I'm praying for you.  I sense you're carrying some hurt in there.  If you need to talk, you know you can always come to me."  

"I'm not pregnant, if that's what you think," Camille burst out.

Aunt Bea laughed so hard she was breathless.  "I've known that since you arrived, dear one.  Your parents were scared to death that something had happened to you, perhaps even uninvited.  I assured your father that everything was fine.  He knew it in his heart, but it was their fear talking.  I think it would have broken them in two if they would have had to walk that hard road again."

"They never told me about Elise.  I just found out."

Aunt Bea was open-mouthed speechless and sank down in her chair.  "Well, I never!  I just assumed you knew.  Of course, we all knew here.  Don't families talk, pull together?  I guess they were overly protective of you, baby girl."

"I guess they hushed up Elise's pregnancy quite well, even from her own little sister.  But where's her baby?  Did she have a boy or girl?  Can I go see the child, my niece or nephew?"

Aunt Bea's countenance fell.  "Elise made a childless couple very happy.  They moved away shortly afterwards.  I can show you the letter later if you'd like.  But they lost the little girl when she was one and a half.  Diphtheria.  We all grieved, but they wrote to say that they were still grateful for the gift she had been to them for as long as they had her." Aunt Bea smiled softly and said, "Her name was Beatrice, after me.  I thought that was pretty special.  It was the name your sister suggested, and they agreed."

"I don't know how Elise could have given her own child away like that!  It just doesn't seem natural."

"It was very hard for her actually and sacrificial.  She knew her baby would have both a mother and a father to love her.  It's a difficult world for a mother to raise a child on her own.  Your parents would of helped her, of course, though they strongly urged her to give the baby up.  It is hard for a child growing up to stand the scrutiny of it all."

"Jake said that she tried to trick him into marrying him."

"Oh, so that's where the loose tongue is.   Well, yes.  She was feeling pretty desperate trying to figure a way to keep her child.   It wasn't right what she did, but she did ask his forgiveness as well as the Lord's.  Elise was practically serene those last couple of months of her pregnancy after she made her peace with God.  Before that..."  Aunt Bea chuckled and shook her head and went on, "She was a caged animal.  Shall we say, life on the ranch is not her cup of tea.  We were all pretty miserable for awhile there.  Maybe that's why we thought the distraction with Jake was innocent enough.  We didn't realize how hard he had fallen until too late.  So, some of that was our fault by not being up front with him.   We should have seen that coming."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me.  I can't hardly stand to be in the same room with him."

"Gus said he thought he saw you two snarling and snapping after the campfire, and that you had slapped him good.  He's wanting to know if Jake had gotten out of line?  The old codger wanted to fight him, but we suggested we wait until we could talk to you.  I'm glad you had  enough confidence left in any of us to talk to me.  It was never our intention to keep secrets from you, dear one."  

"I'm feeling pretty betrayed and angry.  I feel like everyone is looking at me thinking I'm here for the same reason as my sister.  That's what Jake thought after all.  It will be hard sitting in church Sunday like I've come to the house for wayward girls.  Even my own parents had their doubts about me, about my purity."

"Has anyone ever told you what your name means?  'a virgin of unblemished character.'  I've always loved your name, and I'd say it fits you quite well.  But I'll be praying for you, dear.  The anger you carry will hurt you most of all.  Don't let it.  Ask God to help you let it go with forgiveness."

"That doesn't mean I have to like your ranch foreman though.  He makes me madder than a hornet."

Aunt Bea laughed.  "Maybe that's why he seems so jittery wondering if you were going to jump out and pounce on him."

"This explains some of my treatment  back home too.  I overheard my one-time admirer bragging that I would be easy to, well...that's one reason I came out here, beyond the fact that this is my favorite place to be.  I don't like to be misjudged.  Now I know I have my sister to thank for that."

"We just have to be responsible to God.  We can't worry over every loose tongue."

"Even Jake's?" Camille allowed a crooked smile for the first time in a while.

"Especially Jake's," her aunt laughed.  When she went out to gather the eggs, Aunt Bea whispered a huge thank you to the Lord for helping the girl talk to her.  "She's got a ways to go, but she's crawling out from under a big rock that was dropped on her, Lord.  She needs your help and healing," the wise woman prayed softly.  

When the men came in for supper, as soon as she was sure that her great-niece's back was turned, Aunt Bea gave Jake the stink eye.  

"What?" he asked.

She shook her head and wondered what the good Lord put between the ears of young men now-a-days.  

The next morning a simple breakfast was laid out, and then they rode in an ancient buggy to church, Aunt Bea, and Camille in the back with Jake and Uncle Amos in the front.  A few of the cowboys rode on their horses behind their dust.  Aunt Bea looked back and then poked Camille in the ribs and whispered, "I wish they were as eager to go to the house of the Lord as they are to look over the crop of young ladies in the meeting house."

Camille exclaimed, "What!" Then she lowered her voice and said, "But they've left me alone.  I can't believe they are that girl-crazy."

"They've left you alone because your uncle threatened to string 'em up or at least to send them down the road if they so much as looked at you."

Evidently Jake overheard them and added, "But the word's out that you are here, and there should be an extra good attendance today to get a glimpse of the new girl at the ranch."

Aunt Bea swatted Jake with her Bible.  "Jacob Winthrep.  I can't believe you!  Your tongue has become unhinged."

Her uncle just laughed, but Camille muttered sourly, "I just hope they don't mistake me for my sister."

Uncle Amos herded them into their usual pew with her sandwiched between Aunt Bea and Jake.  At first Camille sat stiffly and shook her head when Jake held out the hymnal to share with her.  He truly did have a beautiful voice, and she just listened.

"Don't you know any hymns," he finally whispered.

"Of course."  The next hymn was led, and she harmonized with him without looking at the words.

Gus walked in late and Uncle Amos scooted over to make room for him.  That squished them even closer.  Camille was glad the church provided paper fans.  It was heating up quickly.

"Aim that thing a little more my way, will ya?  I told you it would be packed today," he whispered again.

"Didn't your mother teach you to not whisper in church?"

"What?"

Camille had just began telling him again when it suddenly became quiet when the song ended, and everyone could hear her.  Now Jake was shaking with silent laugher at her expense until Aunt Bea shushed him with a snap of her fingers.

Jake held his Bible for her to follow along with him as the preacher read his text, Romans 16:17, only his finger slid up to the verse above where he pointed to, "Greet one another with a holy kiss."  She poked him in the ribs, and he let out a low grunt.  Now Aunt Bea was giving him the stink eye and the snapping fingers while he looked innocently straight ahead.

She tapped the open Bible and pointed her finger at the text, "Now I urge you, brethren, keep your eye on those who cause dissensions and hindrances contrary to the teaching which you have learned ."and tear away from them."  Making sure he had read evert word along with the pastor, she turned her shoulder as best she could while still able to look forward.  But then he stretched his left arm behind her on the back of the pew.  Camille could feel her face turn crimson.  She heard nothing of the sermon after the text was read, but fanned furiously.

He kept his hand on her back all the way down the aisle and didn't leave her side as her aunt and uncle made many introductions.  Every time she tried to move away, his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her closer.  She stayed stiff as a board.  One time he had the audacity to lean over and whisper in her ear, "You used some of Aunt Bea's rose soap.  It sure smells good."

She half raised her hand wanting to slap him again, but remembered she was in the church yard.  The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene and knew that's what he was goading her to do by teasing her so unmercifully.

People were spreading blankets out under the trees, and Uncle Amos brought a basket from the buggy she had not noticed.  "I didn't realize we were having a picnic today, Aunt Bea."

"We do most every Sunday, weather permitting and the creek don't rise.  Afterwards, we'll have a testimony and prayer service, then go home in time to take care of the livestock.  Since we don't get to see neighbors very often, Sunday dinner on the grounds is a wonderful way to catch up," Aunt Bea told her.

It had been so long that Camille could only remember a few of the good folk of the church.  Several of the cowboys were bold enough to come and introduce themselves.  She found herself scooting closer to Jake as they towered over her from where she sat on the blanket.

"I can't remember any of their names or their faces," she spoke softly.

"Just be careful that you don't give any of those young pups a holy greeting," Jake whispered before chortling.

"Are you always this obnoxious or just on Sundays.  Oh wait, I remember now that you are indeed always this obnoxious," Camille said exasperated.

"Oh, I can guarantee that he can be annoying any ol' time," Aunt Bea chuckled, "worse than a horsefly.  He was especially naughty in church today however."

Just then a girl about Camille's age came strolling by twirling an umbrella to keep her from the sun.  "Are you going to introduce me to your new friend, Jacob?"

He kept the introduction short and sweet before she added, "Why don't we go on that walk you promised me last week, Jacob?" she smirked.

She pulled him along looping her arm through his as they headed away.  It became all too quiet all of a sudden before Aunt Bea huffed, "I never did like a girl to be so brash.  I know for a fact that he doesn't care a whit about her, but he's just to polite to say anything.  He needs to tell her plain and simple before getting all tangled up."

"He doesn't look too miserable, Aunt Bea.  Is he a ladies' man?"

"No, he usually seems a wee bit shy.  Oh, but he was a bad boy in church today, sakes alive!"

"You don't know the half of it," Camille said under her breath.  A gust of wind blew her hair refreshing her.

Jake showed up suddenly to say, "We need to head back.  The sky's looking a little too black for my taste, and the wind is kicking up."

Aunt Bea was in a flurry throwing everything back in the basket while Uncle Amos shook out the blanket.  He grumbled, "I knew I shouldn't have taken that cat nap.  Jake, find Gus.  He can tie his horse behind the buggy.  He needs to ride home with us so he won't get a soaking."

Her aunt and uncle climbed in the back while she sat squished between Gus and Jake.  They quickly raced back to the ranch bouncing all over the rutted road.  No one said much, just kept watching the clouds.  It suddenly burst on them with hail, small at first, then larger and larger just as they arrived home.  Jake jumped down after handing the reigns to Gus and ran to throw open the barn door so Gus could drive them in.  Then Jake went out and herded several of the mares with foals into the barn until Uncle Amos hollered for him to come in out of the pelting hail that was almost as big as walnuts.

"If they don't have sense enough to come in out of that, you can't help 'em now."

"I got all the young ones in any way.  I hope it doesn't hurt the calves though," Jake worried as they all stared out the barn door watching the white balls of ice bouncing on the ground.

"There goes my garden," Aunt Bea groaned.  "It is what it is though," she added with a shrug.

"It's early yet.  You can replant," her husband said with his arm around her.  "We've done it before, haven't we, sugar.  It remains to be seen if the hay crop can survive this, but the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord," he quoted.

Camille couldn't believe the calm the old rancher radiated as the destructive weather was in full swing.  She thought of her own little problems and realized she'd kicked up a lot of dust  over her small things and felt ashamed of herself.  It was enough to wonder if she'd ever get the kind of faith she saw in her elders."

When it had blown over, they walked out of the barn kicking the ball of hail.  Her Uncle Amos hung onto Aunt Beatrice so she wouldn't fall on the slippery ground.  Looking around, she saw cows on the horizon crowded under the protection of trees.  Some new calves were lying down under their mothers' watchful care.  The flowers that were blooming this morning around the house were crushed by icy drifts.  

"I've never seen such big hail," she declared once they were in the house and unpacking the picnic basket. 

"We've had bigger which came later in the season once, too late to replant.  It just about did us in a time or two.  We'll have to check with some of our neighbors tomorrow and make sure no one is suffering under too great a loss.  I'm sure your Uncle Amos will send out some of the boys on that errand in the morning.  It looks like you and I will be planting a garden later this week."

"It's a pure shame, as I know some of your plants had little green tomatoes setting on them."

"Oh well.  I still have canned tomatoes from last season.  There's always something to be thankful for.  Knowing God's in charge of our lives helps us take the good with the bad easier than those folks who think they can live without God in their lives."

Uncle Amos and Jake came in just then with buckets of hail.  "How 'bout we crank us up some peach ice cream since the good Lord provided the ice like manna from heaven and knocked the ripe peaches clean off the trees!  It's just laying in drifts for the taking, and now we won't have to chip it off the block of ice like usual," he declared with a wink.

Later that afternoon after they were finishing off the barrel of ice cream, Camille said with a happy grin, "I don't think I've ever tasted anything finer than this!" She on her second bowl.

"Jake, why don't you take this ice cream machine out to the boys so they can crank up some of their own.  I don't think we used up all the hail ice, did we?"

"Yes ma'am.  I'll take it in just a minute," he said while licking off the beater.

"Cook said that for a second he thought we were under attack when the hail woke him up from his Sunday afternoon nap with the hail bouncing off the tin roof of the mess hall today.  It took his mind back to the days of the Civil War when he was just a young drummer boy.  He confessed it left him shaking for a minute there," Jake told them.

"This ice cream will cheer him up, I imagine," Aunt Bea nodded.

The next morning the men were going to go assess the damage on their own ranch as well as the neighbors'.  Jake started when Camille asked, "May I come?"

He looked at her with wide-eyed surprise, but shrugged, "Sure, but I can't promise to bring you home until late in the day.  I packed jerky and will fill your canteen to add to the couple I have hanging on my saddle."

She got ready quickly, not even trying to put her hair up, just tying it back.  Kissing Aunt Bea, she was mounted and ready to go with the others.  Jake gave orders to split up the men to ride to different sections of the ranch.  Uncle Amos and Gus were going to visit with the neighbors to check on their damage.

Camille shadowed Jake.  The calves they found seemed to have survived with little to no damage.  "I don't think large hail fell everywhere like it did at the ranch house.  Thankfully there's a lot of trees scattered, especially along the stream, which offered shelter for much of the herd."

"They came across a tree split and blackened by a lightning strike.  A cow and a calf had been killed.  Camille looked away from the gruesome sight and covered her mouth with her bandana to keep from smelling the stench of the burnt cowhide.

"I won't take care of them now, but will send one of the boys back later to handle it.  Let's just move on."

Finally Jake paused at some shade by the stream, and they ate in quiet.  Finally he spoke, "Do I take it that you've decided to forgive me for my rudeness to you ever since you arrived?"

"Aunt Bea says that unforgiveness would hurt me more than others, so I don't want to hold it against you any longer."

"Well, I don't think I've ever heard it said quite like that before, but Aunt Bea is a wise woman.  I truly have been beating myself up for my bad behavior towards you.  Your slap in the face was the slightess of my wounds."

"I'm sorry I slapped you," Camille looked down embarassed.

"I deserved it."

"Aunt Bea said my sister became a Christian when she was here.  She also said that her little girl died not long ago.  I wish I could have seen her just once."

"I'm sorry to hear about the little girl," he said pulling on tufts of grass.  "I think I would have married her, you know."

Camille was taken by surprise.

"I probably would have even married her while she was carrying another man' child, except for her deceit.  If she had been upfront with me, I don't think it would have mattered all that much.  Even if she had apologized for it, I think I would have forgiven her.  I hope she has a good life with the man she did end up marrying.  Aunt Bea told me she's going to have another child, and I'm glad for her."

"You're a better man than I gave you credit for, Jake.  She's never been an easy person to live with all these years.  I don't envy George.  It helps to know that she's a Christian, but still..."

"I don't think it was God's will for us.  After I got over being mad, I decided I could live with that."

"I don't believe she would have been happy here at the ranch, and I doubt you'd be happy in the city.   Am I right?"

"Yup."

Somehow thinking of Jake with her sister rankled her, and she shot up shaking the crumbs off her skirt.  "Ready?"

"I might as well take you back to the ranch.  I don't figure we'll find any more losses.  That cow and calf was a fluke."

That afternoon, Jake used the time to work with the wild stallion.  Gus and Uncle Amos were also back.  Everyone went out to watch him work with the horse.  The creature seemed wilder than ever pawing the air with his deadly hooves.  In an instant Jake's foot got tangled in the lead line, and he went down.  The horse reared over him when a shot rang out.  The horse fell backwards breaking the corral fence falling down Camille's way.  Before she could jump back she was partially under the immense dead weight of the animal with pain searing.  Then she passed out not hearing the shouts.

Jake grabbed a piece of broken rail and used it as leverage while Gus and Amos pulled her out.  Then cook ran out with a bench, and they placed her on it like a stretcher and took her into the house before transitioning her onto her bed.  That's where she woke up in excruciating pain.  She clutched wildly at her covers.  Aunt Bea was attempting to give her some medicine, but she could barely breathe and batted it away in her panic.

"Now honey, you need to take this before they try to set your ankle.  It's going to get worse before it can get better."

"It hurts to breathe," she whimpered, but finally swallowed the spoonful.

Her uncle quickly cut off her boot.  With a final tug, she screamed.  Camille barely heard them talking about how lucky it was that only her ankle seemed to be broken.  

"And probably some ribs.  I hope one didn't puncture her lungs.  However, when the doctor gets here, he'll probably be able to tell.  Prop her up and see if she can breathe any better," her Aunt Bea instructed.

"I'd rather the horse had come down on me instead of her.  It was vicious in life and in death," Jake said upset, "though I'm sure no one imagined he would go down like that."

"I'm sorry I didn't shoot the crazy thing earlier.  It was a man-killer, no doubt about it.  I never should have let you in the ring with it," Uncle Amos was saying remorsefully shaking his head.

"It is what it is," Aunt Bea said.  "It could have been so much worse.  "Jake, you hold her down while Amos and Gus work to straighten the broken bones."

One yank and Camille screamed again and passed out, but not before she had the memory of Jake leaning over her holding her arms down with his eyes full of compassion.

Sometime later, Camille woke to find that the doctor had arrived.  He gave the good news that he did not believer her lungs had been injured though her ribs were cracked, and indeed, her ankle was broken.  After his examination, with the plaster put on her ankle, and the rib cage wrapped, he gave orders not to let her get out of bed but to keep her leg elevated.  They all were extremely thankful knowing full well it could have been deadly, not just for Jake, but for Camille as well if the horse had fallen on her completely.  The doctor commended the men for their ability to set the bone.  

"It comes in handy on the ranch, as you well know, since so many cowboys tend to get a break now and then," Uncle Amos said.

"Here's some more pain medicine that will make her sleepy.  She'll need it especially for the next three days.  The pain should subside gradually after that.  Watch for swelling and infection, but I don't expect there to be any complications in one so young and in good health.  Make sure she breathes deeply in spite of the pain though.  I don't want the lungs to collect fluid while she lies there and have it turning into pneumonia.  Well, young lady, you survived a man-killing stallion.  Not everyone lives to tell that tale.  The good Lord was looking after you."

Camille nodded and whispered , "Thank you," before putting her head back against the propped pillows.  She just then realized she was still gripping Jake's hand and didn't know how long she had been doing so.  "I'm sorry, Jake.  I hope I didn't squeeze too hard while the doctor was assessing my injuries."  A tear escaped to trickle down her cheek.  "I was sure you were going to die out there for a minute with the stallion hovering over you where you had fallen."

"I wish it was me lying broken on this bed instead of you, Camille.  It doesn't seem right since you weren't even in the corral with that vicious creature."

"You would surely be dead without that shot that toppled him.  He would have trampled you to death.  No one could have foreseen what would happen.  We are both blessed to be alive, I guess."

"He's the first horse I haven't been able to tame,"  he winked,' "but not the first female.  Some refuse to be gentled," he winked.

She wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much, so she just grinned and quietly said, "I think I need to sleep now."

"I'll stay in the house today in case you need anything else.  Just ring the bell that Aunt Bea left there on that tray beside your bed and one or the other of us will come running."

He joined Gus, Uncle Amos and Aunt Bea at the table to eat more peach pie made from salvaged peaches that had been driven from the trees by the hail.  With her door open, the hum of their conversation was a comfort even though she was too groggy to make out what they were saying.

It was dark when she woke with pain radiating, once again making it hard to breathe.  She tried to call, then grabbed for the bell which she clumsily knocked off the bed in a clatter.  Aunt Bea swiftly came in with Uncle Amos and Jake hovering in the doorway.  Aunt Bea lit a candle before giving her the drink of water, then a dose of the nasty medicine.  When she shuddered at its ghastly taste, it hurt her ribs."

"Wake me up when the pain is over.  I just want to sleep through till it quits hurting."

Over the next few days, however,  an assortment of different cowboys came calling, knocking on the door jam bringing gifts: a hand tooled halter, a horsehair hat band, a silver buckle, a pair of Indian beaded gloves, several bouquets of wild flowers, a silver dime pounded into a ring, and such.  Camille felt honored to be the recipient of such kindness.  Uncle Amos fashioned her some crutches to use when the time came, but Gus presented her with one of his specially carved canes.

Aunt Bea hovered, but not as much as Jake.  It was like he had taken the position of guard dog making sure that none of the other cowboys stayed long.  Even though he was sent out by Uncle Amos every day to take care of his ranch duties, he always came back to sit in the chair in her room in the late afternoon and evening to read to her and even to play his guitar and sing, which she like very much.  They never said much.  Sometimes she would just hold his hand and gaze out the window.

"Are you still glad you came to the ranch?" he asked a few days later.

"Oh, very much so!" she replied, surprised at his question.

"When do you think you'll be going back?" 

"I don't think about that at all.  This seems more like home than back there.  I guess I'll stay until they make me go home.  I feel horrid that I have become such a burden instead of a help though."

"I don't think anybody feels that way.  You know Aunt Bea loves to mother you.  I'm sure it gives her great pleasure to fuss over you."

"I've taken too much of your time, Jake.  You're in here more than anyone come evening.  I hope it's not guilt, because none of it was your fault.  Sometimes things just happen."

"If I've overstayed my welcome..." he began to rise out of his chair.

"No!" she exclaimed and put a staying hand on his knee.  "I just mean I don't want you here because you feel like you have to out of guilt."  She hesitated before saying, "I look forward all day to when you can sit in here with me.  It's hard to lie in bed for hours when I want to be up and about.  Aunt Bea says I can start to get up tomorrow as long as I am careful and the doctor says it's alright."

"Well," he grinned, "I'm glad to know it gives you as much pleasure as it gives me to be here.  I guess we're doing better than we used to anyway hating each other's stinking guts."

She began to laugh, but it hurt.  "Don't make me laugh, Jake, or I'll send you out of this room quicker than  a frog's tongue.  Yes, I guess I find your stinking guts quite tolerable now."

He laughed heartily while Camille grinned.

When the doctor visited the next day, he examined her and said that she could be up and about as long as there was no weight put on her broken ankle.  Camille was exhilarated.  Uncle Amos brought her the crutches while Aunt Bea twisted her apron nervously.

Camille felt a little light-headed when she sat up in bed before standing on her good foot.  Jake kept his arm loosely around her waist just in case.  When she got her crutches under her arms, her ribs screamed.  "I don't know, my ribs hurt so badly," she gasped.  Camille was crying without meaning to.  Jake gently scooped her up letting the crutches fall back against the bed and took her out onto the porch to Aunt Beatrice's willow rocker.

"Is this better?"

"Yes, thank you.  I'll have to learn to use the crutches eventually, but my ribs are too tender for that as yet, I guess.  Oh, but it's good to be outside!"

Aunt Bea brought out bowls of peach pie covered with cream.  "Looks like you'll be able to join us at the dinner table from now on.  That will be wonderful, darlin'."  I'm sure Jake can pick you up and set you wherever you want to go," Uncle Amos said.

"I didn't realize how quickly I'd become weak.  I can't believe I missed simple pleasures like sitting on the porch."

The next morning, Jake carried her out to sit at the table with them.  The talk was all about the roundup for branding the calves.

"Judging by what you saw when you rode out checking the last few days, does it look like a good crop of calves?"

"No doubt.  It will take us three, maybe four days at the most with all the hands doing the roundup, then we'll have a hot iron party."

"Sounds good.  Respect those mean mommies.  Some of them will do anything to protect their young'uns.  But I guess I don't have to tell you that.  Just make sure our greenhorns understand the danger."

"Yes sir."

"If there is any trouble, send a rider back to get me.  I'm staying here to make sure Gus stays home.  If I go, sure as shoot'n he'd insist on going too."

"Can't leave the whole ranch for Aunt Bea to take care of," Jake winked.

"Amos has gone many a years on end, but I'm glad he's not going out this time.  He's got you  to do that for him now," Beatrice said.

"Ready?"  Jake picked Camille up to take her back to her room.  "I'd leave you on the porch, but I won't be here to bring you back to bed when you grow weary while I'm gone all day."

"I'm going to miss you.  I think you've got me spoiled with your company," she said quietly.

"I'll miss you too," he said.

Standing in her room, he was hesitating while still holding her in his arms with her arms around until he couldn't resist.  He bent down to kiss her, coming slowly in case she refused him.  She did not.  His kiss was tender and sweet.  He said huskily, "Just something to remember me by."

He set her down gently, then left without looking back.  Camille's cheeks felt so hot that she said under her breath, "I wish to goodness, I had one of those paper church fans right about now to cool me off.  My heart's knocking like crazy too.

Camille quoted softly from Jane Austin, "This sensation of listlessness, weariness, stupidity, this disinclination to sit down and employ myself, this feeling of everything being dull and insipid about the house!  I must be in love; I should be the oddest creature in the world if I were not."

The long afternoons grew shadows that groped for the darkness.  It upset her that Aunt Bea was having to replant the garden without her, though Uncle Amos was helping her.  Gus often came in to sit with her while the other two were working outside.  Finally, she could stand it not longer.  With the help of the crutches, she ignored the searing pain in her ribs and hobbled out.  She sat at the table where she could look outside and see them working.  Her fingers itched to hang laundry, to bake, to weed the garden, anything but sit idly by as time was heavy.

That's where they found her, peeling peaches.  Camille had already whipped the cream and made the pie crust with Gus as her runner grabbing whatever she needed.  She explained, "I had to do something!"

Before they went out to finish planting the garden, Aunt Bea had her equipped to make the rolls and to peel the potatoes where she sat at the table with her foot propped up.  They all looked forward to the peach pie she was finishing.

The next day, Aunt Bea stayed in kitchen where they worked side by side; well, Camille was sitting while her aunt was busy on her feet.  Yet, it felt so good to be helpful again.  How she had missed talking with this special woman around the table.

"Aunt Bea, how did you know Uncle Amos was the right man, you know, the one?"

The older lady laughed with a twinkle in her eye.  "It's been over fifty years, but it seems like yesterday when he walked in and stole my breath away.  Back then, engagements weren't long a'tall, and we wed two weeks after we met.  We both were Christians and had no illusions about hard work and commitment.  We both knew we wanted to be equally yoked and headed in the same direction for a lifetime.  There's nothing worse than young folks yoked together but heading in the opposite directions.  It has been hard, terribly so sometimes, especially when we lost our children, but not a single day have either of us looked back and regretted saying, "I do."  I knew he was a good man when I first met him, though we have rubbed off a few rough edges from each other like the Good Book says, "Iron sharpens iron."  That means sometimes sparks may fly.  But there is no room for selfishness in a good marriage.  If a body is fully surrendered to God, then self-centeredness has to go."

The fine lady continued, "Romance is God's idea.  In fact, He is the perfect example.  First He woos us, then pursues us.  Even though we come to the point where we feel totally unworthy of his love, He bestows it upon us anyway.  He has set His love upon us.  No matter what our past, He is willing to forgive and forget and gives us a new beginning with Him.  His lovingkindness is new every morning.  All that He asks is that we accept His love, listen to His loving words and to spend time with Him.  He is preparing a home for us and the marriage supper of the Lamb."

"Don't forget, He is coming for us on a white horse.  I've always loved that verse in Revelation," Camille agreed.

"The New Testament tells a woman to respect her husband and for a man to love and cherish his wife.  So, if you can't respect a man, don't even think about marrying him.  Many people enter marriage thinking they can change a person. That's God's job.  There's no guarantee a person will change, rather some just get more set in their ways.  If a man isn't kind and loving, able to cherish her, even lay down his life for a woman, he is not worthy of her either."

"That's certainly a lot to think about," Camille mused.

"And Camille, he is a good man.  Men like him don't come around every day.  The bunkhouse is full of the other kind, half-baked yahoos," Aunt Bea winked while Camille blushed with a heat that crept across her face.  They both knew who she was talking about.  

She thought again about Jane Austin's words she had read last night:  "Sometimes the last person you want to be with is the one person you can't live without."

After three of the longest days of her life, the cloud of dust and the pounding of hooves finally approached making Camille's heart feel faint.  Instead of stepping out to the porch to watch like the others, she shrank back to wait.  She knew the sound of his boots when he came leaping up the steps and across the porch.  It was then she looked up to his eyes and saw the same longing she felt.  She tried to stand, but he picked her up and sat her on his lap on the sofa where her arms did not let go.  Jake did not hesitate to kiss her, and she responded in a way new to her, but as old as love itself.  Finally, she laid her head upon his shoulder, and he confessed, "That was the hardest roundup in my life!  I could only think about wanting nothing but to ride back to you."

"And the whole time you were gone, I was thinking that two weeks is almost too long to wait," she grinned.

"Two weeks?  I was only gone four days!"  

She laughed at his puzzled face.  "Two weeks until I think I can manage to walk down the aisle."

There was a cowboy whoop heard across the ranch, and a couple of lovers of fifty years smiled contentedly at each  other.  "I believe my chickens have hatched," she boasted as her man held her wrinkled hand and chuckled nodding.  "They have indeed."