Triple Creek Ranch - Part 11

Good Morning Favorite Friday Fiction Fans,
It is in the 40s this morning and only supposed to get to the low 70s! Yay! The last few days have been in the upper 80s, and for the end of September, that just doesn't feel right.


There has been a little writing this week, but not much. For one, the last two evenings/nights I've gotten distracted by the police cars at a corner house. We almost never have police cars stopping, so when they do, I end up watching. The house is a rental house and I don't know how many people live there. One night last month, I think it was, we called the police because it was 11:00 and there were people outside fighting and yelling at each other. They'd been doing it since 9:30. They must have been drunk or on drugs or something because I watched them out our window and they were pushing each other around in the middle of the street and some were telling the others to "stay out of my house." That night the police took two people away. Nothing happened the last nights except a lot of talk.


Today I clean house, need to work on the Boyd's Holler Gazette, and have to remember to go let the neighbors cat out and feed their fish. And, I'll be eagerly waiting for an e-mail from my cover designer. She said she and her brother were going to work on it this morning! I can't wait to see it! And I know you all are anxiously awaiting the day when you can hold the book in your hands and read all the way to the end without me leaving you hanging someplace.:)


I debated a long time last night and even this morning about what to post. I decided on the Triple Creek Ranch, but I could have posted "At the Mercy of the Storm," a two part short story or I could have posted "The Storm," another two part story (At least I think it is two parts.:)). However, I decided to wait on both of those.


Wow, I haven't rambled on like this for a while. Oh, well. If you don't like it, you can always skip it. I won't even know. :}
But here, I should let you get on with reading what you really got on here to read.

Part 11

    As the irate girl was about to strike once more, someone grasped her arm and the stick was jerked from her hand.
    “We don’t strike horses like that on the Triple Creek!” a stern voice commanded.
    Orlena turned around to see a stranger eyeing her from under his cowboy hat as he stood, arms crossed and booted feet planted firmly.
    Instantly the girl’s anger turned from the horse to this newcomer. “Who do you think you are that you can order me around?” she haughtily demanded.
    The man had turned from her to the horse and was attempting to calm it. “Easy girl. No one’s goin’ to hurt ya.” Without so much as turning his head, he replied to Orlena, “I’m Lloyd Hearter. I work here.”
    Orlena stamped her foot, planted her hands on her hips and stormed, “You look at me when I speak to you. Do you even know who I am?”
    “Yep,” the young cowboy replied and again kept his eyes on the horse who was trotting around the corral in a nervous manner.
    “Than look at me! I’ll have Norman fire you if you don’t follow my orders.”
    Then the man slowly turned and looked at the spoiled girl before him. In a calm but deliberate way he spoke, “I follow Norman’s orders and Mrs. Mavrich’s, but no one ever told me to follow the orders of anyone else unless it was Hardrich. Now,” he continued, “never strike the animals again!” Then turning, he simply walked away back towards the barn with an easy stride, leaving Orlena to fume and fuss behind him.
    “I’ll tell Norman,” she threatened the cowboy’s back. “I’ll make him fire you. You can’t give me orders. I give orders!” And she stamped her foot again.
    Lloyd gave no heed to her words and disappeared into the barn.
    Fuming with indignation, Orlena swept on past the corrals. “Ordering me around like that! I’ll speak to Norman first thing and make him fire that impudent hand.” How she would make her brother do anything if he didn’t want to never crossed her mind. She hadn’t lived long enough with folks who couldn’t be bent to her way by some means or another to know that it could prove a very difficult task.
    The sun was blazing down making this city girl uncomfortably warm in her yards and yards of heavy black silk. Pausing to look about her, Orlena discovered that she was on the top of a small hill. Behind her she could see the house, barn and a few of the other buildings. Before her, in the valley, stood some trees, the shade of which looked invitingly cool.
    “I don’t want to go back to the house yet,” she mused. “I will just go on down to those trees.” This decided, down the hill she went, her dress catching on rocks and brambles as she descended, tearing and snagging the lace, ruffles and plaitings. With a satisfied smile, Orlena jerked her dress. “Now Norman will see that I don’t belong out in the middle of no where and will have to send me back to the city,” she thought in triumph. It never occurred to her that though a dress might not be proper for ranch life, there were other clothes to wear.
    Entering the shade of the trees, Orlena discovered a small creek which rippled and gurgled over stones in a manner most soothing and satisfying even to this city bred child. Seating herself on a rock, she sat in complete silence listening to the music of the creek and longing, yet not daring, to take off her heavy shoes and stockings and dip her feet in the cool, refreshing stream. She knew it was cool for she touched it with her hands, letting them stay in the water, enjoying the new sensation of the small current pushing them, moving them, swirling around them when they remained where they were.
    It was all so new and charming that Orlena lost track of the time and of where she was. All reality vanished and memories of the pleasures of her former life claimed her mind leaving her sitting dazed and dreaming.

    “There ya are, Lloyd,” one of the hands greeted the returning young man.
    “What took you so long?” questioned another.
    “I met the newest member of the ranch.”
    “What’s she like?”
    “Jest like Norman said, she’s a wildcat. She said she was going to have the boss fire me.” This was spoken with great apparent amusement.
    “Who said I was going to fire you?” Norman had just ridden up and caught the last few words.
    Lloyd glanced up. “Yer sister.”
    Norman frowned but Lloyd only grinned.
    “Guess you’ll have to, Boss.”
    The others were chuckling as though the whole thing was a joke, so Norman, swallowing his anger, replied, “You’re fired, Hearter!”

    Hearing the ringing of a bell made Orlena start suddenly and look up. No longer was she in the city with her grandmother, she was out on a ranch with her brother and his wife. Her life had changed and not for the better, she grumbled. The light in the trees looked different. She stood up. It was late. Then she remembered, she must hurry back to the house and make Norman fire that insolent man!
    Starting back through the trees, she suddenly saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Peering more closely at it, she saw a small black and white animal. “Another one of those cats,” she snorted in disgust. “I’ll teach this one to leave me alone.” Searching about she soon discovered a few small rocks. Picking one up, she threw it in the direction of the animal.
    “Go away!” she scolded. The rock didn’t come close at all to it and Orlena threw another one. This one landed right next to the black and white creature and when the following rock hit it, the animal raised its tail.

Questions? Comments?