Page 165 of Huckleberry Hill
Dad and Josiah took the lead of the herd. They’d set the pace and ensure the cattle would follow. Henry, along with several other ranch hands, would flank as many cattle from the herd as they could at one time and keep them moving. Declan and I would be the drag riders. We’d watch out for injured animals and calves getting separated. A few swing riders from the neighboring ranches would join us, moving between the flank and drag riders, going where they were needed and steering the herd.
We were all seasoned, which was why I was on horseback in the rain with a bunch of men who did it for a living. Our walkie-talkies were clipped to our rain slickers and the volume turned up to max.
Between the calls of cowboys, the din of heavy rain, and the fearful mooing of the cattle, it was a struggle to hear much of anything. We relied on hand signals and motions for a lot of communication. Every now and again, Dad would come through on the walkie with instructions.
I’d done this once before, several years ago. Salem had stayed behind with Muddy. So much had changed in a short of amount of time and yet some things would always stay the same. I’d always lend a hand on the ranch; I’d always climb on horseback or get myself dirty. I didn’t care. I loved this life.
The herd crossed the rocky creek bottom one by one as the team worked to move them to high ground. There were a few stragglers from the herd, but we urged them on.
Things were going well, and it wasn’t until Declan and I got to the rocky crossing area of the swollen creek that we had our first problem. The water in the creek was moving fast and had washed out many feet on either side of what was usually a calm, foot-deep crossing. Now, banks were forming on either side as the earth washed away and the water carved out a deep trench in the ground. The creek was raging, seeming much more like an angry river, and I knew we didn’t have much time to finish crossing.
A lone bull calf got caught in the swift current as it tried to follow its mother across and nearly lost its footing, but Declan roped him and safely led him across the water to the other side.
When he hit the bank, the calf shook himself uselessly in the pouring rain and then trotted to catch up to his mother.
The sky was nearly black with steady, dark clouds. Thunder boomed, lightning flashed; rain marred my vision.
Goldie needed no urging—Merlin was already on the other side of the river, and she was determined to get to him.
She splashed into the river but took a slight turn to the left, veering away from the path the rest of the animals had used to cross. The water swirled around Goldie’s knees and then rose higher as she sank into the muddy bottom. But she was a steady girl and kept a good pace despite the rush of the current and the suction of the ground beneath her. She was three quarters of the way across the river when a hoof caught on something and she lost her balance. She tossed her head and attempted to regain her stance, but she was unable to move forward. Despite my urging, she came to a halt.
She tossed her head again and neighed in distress.
I looked across the river to see Declan about ten feet away from the bank. He saw me and raised his hand over his head and then I heard through the walkie, “What’s wrong?”
I pressed my walkie button. “She’s stuck, I think. I need to get down and see what’s going on.”
“Wait, I’ll be right there.”
But I couldn’t wait. The river was starting to rise. Even though we’d been immobile for just a moment, the water had started to froth and the current was picking up speed.
Flash flood. Fuck.
I swung my leg over the saddle and gingerly felt for the bottom of the river. The water came up to my crotch and it was ice cold. I held on to Goldie’s harness as I got my footing, and then I leaned over. I stole a hand down her left leg and delved into the river.
Something poked me through the tip of my glove.
I cursed.
I guessed it was barbed wire from a fence post that had been pulled lose.
“Hadley!” Declan called from the bank. “What the hell are you doing?”
“She’s stuck!” I yelled back. “The water’s rising fast—I think it’s a flash flood! We have to get her out!”
Declan kicked his spurs and rode back into the river toward me as fast as Merlin could take him. He got near me and dismounted.
“Hadley, get back on your horse. I’ll get her free.”
“No! I’ve got this,” I said as Declan grabbed Goldie’s bridle to steady her. I reached into my saddlebag for my fence pliers. I bent over, feeling my way around the barbed wire, and made a cut. When nothing happened, I felt around farther and realized it was attached to a fence post just beneath the water’s surface. I ran my hand down Goldie’s leg for the wire that was still holding her and made another cut, and when Goldie realized she was free, she took a step toward Merlin. In her haste to get out of the river, she knocked into me.
I dropped the fence pliers and lost my balance. I fell into the water and the force of the current pushed me directly into the fence post beneath the surface. All the air left my lungs.
“Hadley!” Declan yelled.
My head went under water.
The shock of the freezing current momentarily stupefied me, but my brain forced my limbs to work—they pumped and my legs kicked and I broke free from the river and rose to the surface.
