Chapter 44

After Jeff, Dave and Frank left to check out the Thompsons' farm, Bill Madison decided to swim a few laps to get his day started. I haven't worked out much lately, and with all that's been going on, I just want to sit and mope. I need to get off my ass and do something. Damn, I feel good. Whatever Jeff did to me sure got my energy level up. I'm going to get my suit and try out that fabulous pool. Crap, I haven't swum in so long that I probably won't be able to swim two laps.

After changing into his suit he walked on down to the pool and opened the door, only to stand as he watched Helen powering through the water. Walking nearer to the pool, he stopped. No way am I going to swim laps with someone cutting through the water like that. She would probably make three laps to my one, uh ... make that four, he thought, as he sank onto one of the lounges wishing he had waited for a while before coming in.

Helen turned over onto her back, floating, occasionally fluttering her feet as she coasted through the water. "Come on in Captain. The water is great," she said, banishing his thought about her not having noticed him.

"I'll wait a little. I might learn something," he said, trying to stall. I thought I was a decent swimmer. But I'm not getting in the pool with her, although my flopping around in the water might give her some amusement.

Knowing exactly what was wrong, having experienced it many times before she met the Matthews, and even now, her sister-wives were prone to find excuses for not swimming laps with her, she swam toward the side of the pool. Diving and putting on a burst of speed, she did something and was suddenly standing on the side of the pool nearest Madison.

"Shit!" Bill exclaimed before he thought. Then, "How did you do that?"

"Practice," Helen laughed as she squeegeed the excess water from her body with her hands before picking up a towel. "I coached the girl's swim team for years. I've been in the water a few times," she finished, winking at him.

Madison tried to objectively look at the beautiful woman standing in front of him. She didn't have the massive shoulders of professional swimmers, but the muscle tone was obvious. Nor did she have the small breasts that many times went with the sport. He felt himself swell and fought to keep the erection from becoming full-blown. Crap. What's the matter with me? I don't get an erection from just talking to a woman — not at my age. Let alone from a woman that's not my wife. Jeff will have my ass if he comes in and sees a lump in my pants. But damn, she looks good, even in that one-piece suit.

Knowing full-well what was going on as Bill struggled with his body's reaction, Helen smiled at him, thinking, Not bad for an old woman, huh Captain?

Madison realized that Helen looked younger than he had guessed last night. In spite of Diana's admonishments about not calculating Helen's age, he knew that she was a retired school teacher, and the fact had entered into his estimate of how old she looked. Without thinking about that this morning as she stood before him wiping the water off with the towel, he had unconsciously thought of her as being much younger.

What has Jeff got that he can reverse someone's age? Diana looks like a teenager. This retired teacher looks — hell, I don't know — young.

"I'm not usually here this late. I tend to swim early, then drink a cup of coffee with my husband when he comes back from his run. He didn't get back from your suite until late and I ... wound up getting up later," she said, a blush starting at her neck and gradually expanding to her face.

Ignoring her blush, not wanting to embarrass her more, he said, "Whatever Jeff did to me, I feel ... crap, I've already used up a number of adjectives to describe how I feel, and they all seem inadequate."

Helen chuckled, hanging the wet towel over the back of a metal chair. "I know. Trust me on that one. I know. Not only do I feel wonderful, and look younger, my laps have improved beyond anything I ever dreamed."

Madison crossed his legs as he felt himself swell again, having let his concentration slip for a moment. "Well, I don't know how you swam before, but I'm sure not getting into the pool with you while you're swimming laps. Heck, I would probably drown from the wake," he kidded.

"All right," she said, "enough with the flattery. Time to see what you can do."

"Uh uh," Bill tried to object. "I just came to swim a couple of laps to settle that big breakfast I ate. I didn't come..."

Helen grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet, startling him with her strength. "Oh, no you don't. You screwed up and came in at the wrong time. You don't think an old swimming coach is going to miss the chance for a new pupil, do you?" she said, her laughter and good mood catching.

Before he could object again, she launched herself backward still holding onto his hand. Floundering, he crashed into the water laughing so hard he swallowed a mouthful.

As he coughed to clear the water, she smiled sweetly, "Okay, Big Boy. Let's see what you can do," she ordered, motioning toward the other end of the pool.

Sighing, knowing that he was whipped, Madison started out, trying to be as graceful as he could, yet putting everything he had into it.

Twenty feet later as she glided alongside him, seeming to not even bother to swim, she stopped him. He trod water looking at her as she seemed to just stand there relaxed, appearing to barely move her body.

"You look like a rock with arms," she said, giggling.

It should have been an insult, but somehow coming from her, it only made him laugh.

"The first thing I'm going to have to do is teach you to swim."

"But I can swim," he objected. "I swim at the gym all the time. Well, when I have time."

"That's not swimming," she said. "That's practicing for a splashing contest. Now you are going to learn how to swim."

Madison got a bad feeling. The feeling was dead on.

Forty-five minutes later, Bill hung onto the side of the pool knowing that he was going to have to swim to the shallow end to get out. He didn't have enough strength left to push himself out of the pool. The problem was, he didn't have enough strength left to swim to the shallow end, either, and be damned if he was going to pull himself around the edge like some kid that couldn't swim.

Helen leaned down to offer him a hand. His pride forgotten, he reached up to clasp wrists with her. With astonishing strength from such a small package, she bent her knees and leaned slightly backward. Suddenly, he was standing on the side of the pool, his legs shaking, every muscle in his body complaining.

"Don't sit down," she admonished as he started to do just that. "Come on. Walk with me," she finished, taking his arm and starting him around the outside of the room.

Three laps later, he was feeling better, but he still felt weak. "Remind me to never get in the pool with you again," he kidded, but even he wasn't sure that it really was kidding. "Have you ever killed anyone by doing that?"

"Only a few," she said, laughter in her voice. "Let's go get you a glass of orange juice. You will feel better after you get your sugar levels back up a little."

Madison was glad to do anything to get away from the pool, but he knew that he had learned more about swimming this morning than he had in his life. As they left the pool area, he started to turn toward his suite. "No. Let's just go on to the kitchen. You're fine," she said, anticipating his objection to going there with just trunks on.

Although Helen had not told him so, she had been impressed with him. He couldn't swim worth anything at the beginning, but he was an excellent student. He did, without complaint, everything she said as best he could. He had given his absolute best and it showed. Of course, now he was paying for it.

Inside the kitchen a few minutes later, Helen poured him a big glass of juice, and a small one for herself as he sat at the smaller of the kitchen tables. Madison knew she was just being nice, and didn't really need anything, even though she had swum right beside him most of the time as she coached him like a drill sergeant. He had lost count of how many laps he had made, but his body felt like it had been far too many.

Helen pulled her cap off, tossing her hair as she put the cap on the counter. She smiled and glanced toward the door. A moment later the door opened and all the wives trooped in.

"Well, I see you survived," Laura said, a smile on her face.

Not familiar with the women's increasing ability to know what their husband and to a lesser extent, each other, were doing, he just thought that one of them had seen them swimming. "Just barely," he sighed, setting the half-empty glass down and grinning at her.

"We've learned to stay away from the pool while Helen is swimming laps," Melissa chimed in, smiling at Helen.

"Physical education is part of a well-rounded education," Helen teased. "It just sometimes hurts a little more. Besides, they all swim like fish, anyway."

"We do all swim well," Ann said as she headed for the fridge, "but compared to Helen, we're just barely past drowning, and she gets better all the time."

The door opened and Kathy, Linda and Evie walked in. "We finally found you," Linda said to her dad, hugging him. "Your billfold was on the dresser and your clothes were on the bed, so we thought you had gone for a swim. When you weren't there, we decided to check the kitchen. Can I go with Evie to get an outfit to wear to the music concert tonight?" she asked, handing him his billfold.

"Sure," Bill said, laughter in his voice. "How much is this going to set me back," he asked as he opened the billfold and quickly extracted two, one-hundred dollar bills.

"Wait, Bill," Evie said. "This is our treat."

"No way," he responded, pressing the money into Linda's hand as he spoke to Evie. "You've already given her an expensive guitar." Turning back to his daughter, he continued, "If that isn't enough, you've got your credit card."

Evie and Dave had already made up their minds to buy Linda an outfit, so Evie didn't debate the issue any further. Better to just do it and argue about it later, she thought.

Soon Evie, Linda and Kathy were on the way to the western store to get Linda's outfit. Bill had gone to his suite to get out of the wet swimsuit. Wainwright and Margaret were trying to slap a tennis ball back and forth across the net, but the wind gusts had picked up, making everything problematic. Still, they were laughing as they tried new variations of Kentucky windage to keep the ball inside the lines.

"Tell me why you're selling this place," Jeff said to Ed Thompson. "You obviously love it."

"Well, like we told Dave," Ed said, nodding toward Dave, who was sitting in the front seat of the pickup as they sat talking by the stream, "arthritis has hit me pretty hard. I can't lift anything much any more, and working cattle with my cutting horse about breaks me in two when he abruptly changes direction to head off the cow. I had a couple of blown disks in my lower spine. The operation helped with the pain, but my legs and feet still swell from the arthritis. I'm just not the man I used to be."

Jody took over for her husband. "We don't want to sell; we just don't have any alternative. The taxes on so much land will eat us up without the income from the farm. My arthritis isn't as severe as Ed's, but I can't lift much, either. We just can't operate the place anymore. The last year was really rough on us."

"Oh, we're still thankful that the disease isn't any worse than it is. I thought I was in bad shape until I started going to my rheumatologist," Ed said. "But after seeing other people in the waiting room, many of them much younger than I am, I decided that other folks had it worse. I've known this doctor for years. He's a friend of the family. About a year ago, I was having my checkup that I have every three months, and I was bitching about how much I hurt and having to take pain pills and other stuff, when I realized that he had tears in his eyes.

"Well, needless to say, that got my attention. He told me that a twenty-six year old woman that was one of his patients had died during the night, and he had been at the hospital all night with her. About six months later, he told me that an eighteen-year old girl had died. Both of them from arthritis. My variety just affects my muscles and joints, but there are other types that attack internal organs like the lungs and liver — basically a death sentence. We're both okay; we just can't do the things we used to do. And running this farm, as big as it is, is fast becoming too much for us.

"Our kids have families and lives of their own. Our daughter is a doctor, and our son is a vice president of a big outfit. Both of them make good money and don't want to have anything to do with running a farm. So we're stuck with selling it."

Dave glanced over at his friend as Ed finished. A muscle bunched in Jeff's jaw, and it didn't take a genius to tell that he was stressed.

"What if you didn't have this arthritis?" Jeff asked, looking in the mirror to catch Ed's eye.

"Yeah, and if pigs could fly..." Ed satirically said.

"Bear with me, just for the sake of argument, as the expression goes. What if you two were in good health, would you still sell the farm, cut back on how much land you farm and ranch, or continue with the whole operation?"

When Ed started to say something, Jeff broke in with, "Please, just humor me. What would you do?"

Ed looked over at his wife. "We've worked hard all our lives, and we've put a little aside. But I don't think I would ever want to stop farming if our health was good. But twelve-hundred acres are more than I want to do for another year. I guess if I had my druthers, I'd keep about four hundred acres — maybe split it half-and-half between farmland and pastureland."

"What if the feeding part of it was automated enough so that things would take care of themselves with, say a little occasional supervision from Carla? Wouldn't you folks like to travel a bit? Surely you haven't had much chance with this big farm and ranch operation you've been running all these years?"

Jody spoke up. "That's one of the things on our agenda when we sell the place. Neither of us has even been out of the state. Oh, we got Sam to take care of the farm for a couple of days every now and then, but other than going to the hospital to have my kids, or the night that Ed spent in the hospital for his back operation, we haven't stayed overnight anywhere in years."