Full Excerpt - God’s Instant

Grady wasn’t sure what time it was, but it felt late in the morning, and the house was silent. He walked to the window, moved the faded curtain aside, and peered out. The sun sat higher than he thought it should be if he was going to help John. He pulled on his boots then retrieved his black hat from the foot of the bed and rushed out of the room. He found Adah sitting in her chair in the small kitchen vigorously mixing something doughy in a glass bowl that she held against her body.

“Well, well. We was gettin’ worried. Anyone that sleeps this late might ought to move to town. Ain’t going to be much use out here.” Adah punctuated her remarks with a slight grin and a hint of mischief. Grady wasn’t sure how to react.

“Oh well, I reckon a free hand gets to say when he gets up,” she said. “Even if most a’ the work’ll be done by the time he gets around to it.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I…”

“Don’t pay her any mind, youngun. She’s just sassy ‘cause she can’t walk too good or do much a nothin’ else anymore.” John had come into the kitchen from outside just as Grady started to speak. “I haven’t done nothin’ but feed the saddle horses and check on the colts in the barn corral. I won’t be ready to go after those cows for a while.”

John stepped in close behind Adah’s chair and bent over and kissed her softly on top of the head. He straightened up and sent a sidelong smile in Grady’s direction. “Woman, give this boy some breakfast so he can be of use later on.”

“Maybe this young feller don’t think a little ride in your old truck is worth a day’s work driving cows. Maybe he’d like to get on home.”

“No, ma’am,” Grady surprised himself with his quick answer. “I sure do appreciate the ride and the bed, and I’d really like to help with those cows if I can.”

“I know, son. When you get to be our age, sassin’ each other’s about all you got.”

John went back outside. Adah placed the mixing bowl on the low counter and turned her chair toward Grady. 

“I’ll get you some breakfast.”

She loaded eggs, ham, and big chunks of homemade bread soaked with butter onto a heavy porcelain plate. She set the food on the table and motioned for Grady to sit and eat. Then she spun her chair around, retrieved the mixing bowl, returned to the table, and continued to stir the doughy mixture.

“My mom used to make breakfast like this when my dad was home,” Grady said. “Ma’am, I feel like I’ve gone back to when by dad was…Well, I can’t remember the last time I’ve had breakfast like this. Seems like I’ve gone back in time.”

“That’s sorta what we intend, son. Me and John haven’t quite figured out what’s so fine about the present time. His daddy got a lot of money from the government back in the war. Sold off about two-thirds of this place for more’n it was worth and used the money to pay off the rest.

“They was building all that bomb nonsense over to Hanford and wanted as much of the land around here as they could get. John don’t seem to care to get rich, so he never tried to keep up like some of the other ranchers, the ones from the old days. Most of those fellers sold out to the big orchard outfits and moved to town. John don’t have to make much on his cows to break even, so he can go along doing things the way he always has, the way he likes. We don’t have much money, but we do got the long ago to fall back on.”

She lowered her gaze into the mixing bowl and was silent for a long moment. 

Grady looked up from his breakfast. “Ma’am?”

She balanced the mixing bowl carefully on her lap and looked up at him. “Yes, son, what is it?”

“Why’d y’all put me up here last night? I’ve gotten lots of rides home from rodeos, but no one ever offered to give me a bed and a meal. And there’s my dad. I know he…”

“Oh, you’ll earn the bed and the meal, I reckon.”

“No ma’am, excuse me, but you and John have been awful kind to me already. And you got plenty of reason not to be. Even the work this morning is a kindness. I can ride a bull or a bronc, but I ain’t no workin’ cowboy. I can sit a horse all right, but I’ve hardly ever seen a cow that wasn’t in a rodeo pen. Why do y’all do it?”

Adah leaned back. She pushed both hands hard against the arms of her wheelchair and closed her eyes. Though she seemed like she was asleep, her hands returned to cradling the mixing bowl. When she finally spoke, she looked away from Grady. He could not tell if she had opened her eyes.