The Lone Texan. Lass Small

laughed with real delight. “We get all the ice cream?”

      “We can’t throw it away.”

      Ellen gave up. “I’ll take—”

      But Mina sighed. “We’ll just have to...”

      Ellen was a tad irritated and strident, “I said—”

      But Mina finished her sentence, “—eat it all.”

      Ellen became pushy and somewhat annoyed, “I said I’d eat those first two spoonfuls.”

      “Oh.” Mrs. Keeper was astonished. “Would you like a taste?”

      “You are speaking of ice cream?”

      “Why...yes.” So innocent. Good grief.

      Ciggie laughed.

      Mina gave the invalid a skimpy two spoonfuls on a tiny plate, while their bowls were enormous!

      However, Ellen never did get to see exactly how much they’d actually had, but the two greedy ones licked their lips and made sounds that were not at all necessary!

      Then Mrs. Keeper said offhandedly to Ciggie, “I suppose if we’re not going to make her ill watching us be this greedy, we really ought to go out into the hall.”

      Over Ellen’s courteous protest, the two just went on out of the room. And Ellen could hear the sound of the spoons in the bowls and the almost silent chitchat and laughter of the two women.

      Very irritating. Really, very irritating.

      

      It wasn’t until later that Ellen heard why Ciggie and not a doctor had disconnected Ellen from the intravenous bottle. It seemed some man on the Place had interfered with a bull for some reason, which had annoyed the bull, and the hand’s stomach had been ripped open.

      The medical team had done the adjusting of the organs and the sewing of the skin. The medics had found the surgery very interesting. The victim was not that pleased.

      

      In just a short time, Ellen began to see and hear all the different things that happened on the ranch. No day was dull. The senior Mr. Keeper sighed with irritation and mentioned to Ellen, “You’d think people would have a little care for themselves!”

      He’d said that to a woman who’d been ignoring herself? Her fragile body? Someone who hadn’t given one damn for anything?

      It fascinated Ellen to hear someone like a Keeper be furious and very vocal about carelessness. John Keeper was really irritated. And as he blew off temper, he was looking at her!

      Was he chiding Ellen, or was he explaining stupidity, or was he just scared that somebody he liked had been hurt?

      Ellen thought of her mother. She remembered looking at her mother and seeing her fury with her stupid daughter. And her daddy was there, and he’d hushed his wife. His hand on his wife had been gentle and he’d tried to calm her.

      Then he’d turned his hurting eyes to his daughter—

      Ellen couldn’t think about that right then. She might never think of it again.

      

      With Ellen more fragile than they’d first thought, it was the next day the two—Mina and Ciggie—came and said to Ellen, “You’re to get up now and go out onto the porch to sit in a rocker and stare at the beauty of the Place.”

      “I believe I’ll sleep a while.” That was kindly said and logical.

      Mrs. Keeper told her, “The doctor said you are not to sleep during the day, you are to wait for the night. You must get up and move about.”

      Ellen breathed several times in revolt as she was old enough to do that, but she said, “Yes.”

      Mrs. Keeper simply looked at her as she would any guest who was difficult and she said, “Ciggie will assist you in rising. She will guide you out to the porch. She will give you a layout of the house and grounds where you will walk. You’ll do that until you get used to the place, then you can ride farther.”

      That wasn’t suggestion, it was direction. It had the very strong sense of her mother and father. However, Ellen was not someone these persons could direct. She was a free soul. She could do as she chose.

      “Since you have all that water sloshing around inside you, Ciggie will take you to the bathroom first.”

      “I can take myself.”

      Mrs. Keeper smiled in a very courteous manner and said, “This time, let us help you. You need to know where to go and the layout of the house and yard. Ciggie will help you today. Call me if you need me.”

      She left.

      Directions. That’s what Mina Keeper was doing to Ellen. She was being structured. Their way. Now. Damn.

      Having been raised as she was, Ellen did manage to smile at the abandoned Ciggie as she said, “Well, that’s clear enough. I feel very like a prisoner.”

      Not at all taking that as bitterness, Ciggie giggled. “She loves you. You ought to see how gentle she gets when she’s mad. Well, she don’t get mad but she can be—uh—let’s see if I can find the word. Yeah. Annoyed.” That was enunciated just right.

      Ciggie made Ellen smile.

      Two

      With time moving into the middle of another day, it was Ciggie who led the still fragile Ellen down the hall to the side door of the Keeper house. She was careful of the guest. “Are you okay?”

      “Fine.”

      Just the way Ellen said that made Ciggie stop and eye the guest with some squinted doubt.

      As happens in romances, Mina’s son, Tom, came along right then. He hesitated and looked carefully at the women. Then he asked Ciggie, “She okay?”

      Being a sentimental person, Ciggie replied, “You ought to see to her getting out on the porch for some air. Be sure she’s in the shade but be surer she’s warm.” Ciggie grinned and her eyes danced...then she turned away and damned near fled!

      That left a fragile Ellen standing there by the closed door, which led onto the side porch.

      Tom hadn’t actually noticed that Ciggie had left them. His eyes were on the fragile woman. He said, “Tell her I’m a Keeper.”

      There was no reply, so Tom looked over and found that Ciggie had vanished. She was no where around at all! How clever.

      Since the two were alone, Tom looked at the guest... whoever she was...and he realized she was seriously fragile. He asked, “Are you going out into the sun?”

      She altered the word rather vacantly, “Shade.”

      Tom waited, but she didn’t move, so he suggested, “Let me hold the door for you.”

      She nodded but she didn’t even look at him.

      He opened the door, then the screen door and stepped outside as he held it for her.

      She almost didn’t move. But finally she did step forward so carefully that Tom put out a hand and clasped her elbow to stabilize her.

      She murmured, “Thank you.”

      She didn’t look at him or flirt or anything. But she did hesitate.

      He took a firmer grip on her arm and led her over to the sun side, and he seated her under a large umbrella that was tall and wide. It was also seriously anchored in the center hole of the table and was not at all movable. Winds only ruffled the fringe around the edge of the big umbrella.

      Ellen sat in the shade and again said, “Thank you,” dismissing Tom.

      Being independent, Tom sat down in another chair and watched her.

      He