Chapter 11

On Monday morning, one week from the encounter outside of town, I woke feeling wretched, hiding my head from morning light. Donna was still not there, Her side of the bed cool and undisturbed. After a week together, two days and nights with Donna missing were painful. Even though I’d taken medication, my Afghanistan nightmares were back. I was on the threshold of sliding into a depression. Donna promised to return, but couldn’t say how long she would be away. She gave neither explanation nor excuse. My stomach complained, growling, feeling empty and in need of food. I suddenly wanted a mug of coffee. I swung from the bed, struggling to my feet. I opened a dresser drawer for clean briefs. Instead, I found myself staring at fragrant lingerie. After a moment, I remembered my things had been moved to the right side. Donna had taken over three drawers on the left and two in the middle, folding away some old garments from a trunk in the attic. I fingered a pair of brief, lacy pink panties. They didn’t smell of camphor from the cedar trunk in the attic. They looked brand new. That sight made me shake my head. I closed the drawer. After pulling on briefs, socks and jeans, I went to the closet for a clean shirt. Neatly hung on the left side were more of her old clothes, but half the closet was filled with new outfits. There were two frilled, sheer, emerald silk blouses still bearing store tags, an expensive white lace blouse, also with tags, two brand new western shirts in forest green and gold, new brush denim jeans, a variety of sun dresses, skirts, and a couple of party dresses. There was even a slinky, sheer nightgown of vibrant green. “You go shopping?” I asked the air, heart swelling with the joyful realization that she must have come home and then gone out. I headed back to the dresser, checking my wallet. Any cash was still there. For a moment I worried, considering my debit card and credit cards. With my cell, I linked into the home net, pulling up my bank account. There were no surprise withdrawals. She hadn’t used my debit or credit cards.

“Damn! You went shoplifting, you little brat!” I kicked into moccasin slippers, heading into an empty kitchen. Tacked to the wall calendar was a sheet of printer paper with a new list of chores. That brought up a smile. Donna might not be making breakfast, but at least she was back, effectively organizing my life. I didn’t mind, knowing next to nothing about ranching, or what jobs to prioritize.

After starting the coffee maker, unfamiliar sounds drew me to a window over the sink. Big brown eyes stared back at me. A large, somewhat shaggy brown horse with a long, black mane and tail was standing just beyond the veranda. He blinked, casually munching a clump of flowers. I blinked in return. “Where in hell?” The answer hit me. “Donna!”, I swept a look across the yard. Two mares were attacking a riot of flowers and weeds in one of the circular beds. Another horse was an older, speckled grey with perfectly balanced lines. The other was a tall, lanky blood bay. Over to my left, a gangly cinnamon brown colt was sniffing blossoms and nibbling at the lilac bush.

“Told you I’d get us some horses,” Donna said, materializing, planting a kiss on my cheek, almost making me jump out of my slippers. I sighed. “Did you steal them too?”

A small hand slapped my arm. “I did not steal them! They’re wild. I convinced them to come down out of the highlands.” That bit of information elicited a groan. “Wild? And what, you expect me to ride a wild horse? I’ll get bucked off, bit, kicked and trampled.”

She laughed, tossing her ponytail, saying, “no, silly, I’ll tame them.” She took down a bowl, quickly filling it with Cheerios. She added milk and brown sugar, then placed it at the table. “Sit, eat,” she ordered, slapping down a spoon that simply appeared in her hand. “I’ll get you a mug of coffee. “There’s work to be done in the stable. I see that Wind eagle sent over a load of alfalfa. Must be four or five tons!”

“Two full loads,” I shot back. “Try more like ten tons. Most in the barn. I managed to get about two in the stable loft.” I started chomping down Cheerios, paused, then added, “he insisted on giving us four sacks of oats and a drum full of cracked corn. His boys and two hired hands helped unload everything and hoist bales into the barn.” I paused, stirring milk and cereal. “By the way, I noticed you went shoplifting.”

She hesitated, then said, “I didn’t steal anything locally.” Her hand flipped at the air. “There isn’t much of a selection in town. After finding the horses, I Went to Butte, then over to Helena. Wandered through a couple of expensive boutiques and then the malls. A much better selection and Prettier outfits.”

“Walked literally?” The spoon paused halfway to my mouth. “You made yourself visible?”

“Now and then, when I could manage it.” She grinned and winked. “I got a lot of male attention, and picked up envious thoughts from more than a few attractive women.”

I groaned. “What if somebody recognized you?”

“I’ve heard we all have a twin somewhere. Besides, I don’t look thirty-two.”

“Okay, so how did you get those things back here? Can you translocate stuff that far?” “I have my witchy ways,” she said mysteriously. After pouring two mugs of coffee and adding the correct amount of heavy cream to one, she sat opposite, pushing it across the table to me. Without apparent guile, her big emerald eyes looked into mine. She touched the tip of a cute tongue to her upper lip, then said, “I’ve been refining my nefarious skills.”

“What, you shifted all those stolen things all the way from Butte and Helena?” I said in disbelief.

Still looking innocent, Donna shook her head, tossing that lovely mane of hers. “I’d take a few things into a changing room, try on the one I liked best, then make it shift out of the store into a backpack hidden somewhere outside. When the backpack was full, I just stuck out my thumb and hitched rides back here.” “You hitched rides too?”

“Last night.” She crinkled the bridge of her nose with a grin. “Pretty girls with a backpack always get rides, and of course, I was always perfectly safe. Impossible for some guy to pull anything, not that any did more than flirt.”

“But, I didn’t hear a vehicle arrive.”

“This nice old man dropped me off at the cattle guard before sunrise,” she said casually, taking a sip of coffee. “I called and the horses came to meet me. I rode Judy back to the house.”

“A nice old man, and Judy,” I said, putting down the spoon.

Donna crinkled her nose at me again. “Must you keep repeating everything? Yes, a nice old man. Judy is mine. The grey mare. I convinced the old man to make a little detour.

“How little?”

“About a hundred miles,” she replied. “You were in a deep sleep, so I arranged my wardrobe and did a few chores.”