scurlock | oom: barlow estate (4)

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oom: barlow estate (4)

It's been a handful of days since Sunday, and the week indeed has been busy. Jay's been keeping himself busy, with the work Samuel has been giving all of them to get things ready for the harvest. He's falling into an easy enough routine, odds and ends here and there, checking on things, repairs or working with the stock.

He's out in a far field, surveying the crop, taking notes and doing a bit of figuring with numbers. He's got that notebook open to a fresh page and a stub of a pencil in his fingertips, the reins resting slack in his lap as he and Cortez sit still.

"Fifteen...carry the two..."

Jay glances up at the crop again and then quietly chirrups to the horse to get him moving, eyes falling back down to the paper once more.

"Carry the two and then multiply by eighty-five..."

The rabbit bolts out of a burrow and streaks across the thin, worn grass in front of the horse, and barrels straight into a patch of resting birds. Little things, picking down at a fallen corncob, but when the rabbit charges through there's a flutter of wings and angry chirping as they take flight.

"Seven...what the hell--"

Cortez startles and rears back on his hind legs, leaving his rider scrambling for a hold (and missing the horn with the sudden shift of weight) briefly before he hits the dirt, landing hard on his left side and smacking his head into the ground.

"Jesus Goddamn Christ..."

Everything is starred behind his eyes and his shoulder hurts, his lungs scrambling to breathe in oxygen after slamming so hard into the ground. He knows he knocked the wind out of himself, and he flops onto his back and stares at the brilliant Texas sky overhead, an endless blue, as he gasps for breath.

You're okay, Doc. You're okay. Just breathe. Easy. Breathe.

Eventually, after a few minutes of lying still, he sits himself upright - cradling his left side with his right hand as he does so - and then looks at Cortez. Or, looks for Cortez.

The horse is nowhere to be seen.

"...dammit!"

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"That's too much!"

Back up towards the main property, in the stables, Jim laughs and removes the scoop from Katherine's hands. "You're gonn' make her fat."

Katherine giggles and huffs, neck craning back so blue eyes can peer up at the tall stable master. "She works it off."

"Y'can't feed a horse that much grain," he persists, shaking his head and showing her an appropriate portion of oats and grain to dole out for the stock.

"Grumpy old man."

"Watch it, or you'll be muckin' out every one of these stalls on your lonesome."

She laughs, because she knows he doesn't mean it.

Back in the field, Jay picks himself up out of the dirt and dusts his pants off, then gathers the notebook and pencil, wincing a bit as his arm moves. Something is definitely not okay with his shoulder.

"Stupid horse. Was just a goddamn flock of birds," he glances up in the direction he figures the animal took (which is a path that'll likely end up back at the stables) and then wipes the sweat off his forehead.

"Nova git scared atta flock of birds? Hell no. I could shoot that goddamn Sharps three inches from his ear and wouldn't bat a goddamn eyelash at it," he mutters sourly, as he rights his hat on his head - damn, he feels a little dizzy - and then sets off walking back towards the farmhouse and stables.

It's a long walk.

"But nooooo," he continues. "Flock of birds come along and he's prancin' like a fuckin' pansy."

Meanwhile, Cortez is taking his dear sweet time in wandering back to the stables, pausing to occasionally nibble at a cornstalk or two as he travels the path to the place that he knows will have oats.

Katherine squeals, and Jim laughs -- it's hearty, rich, and deep, echoing splendidly off of the slatted walls -- dusting his gloved hands together as he ducks around the horse.

Katherine ducks after him, expression stern and hay sticking out from her hair and collar.

"That was a terrible, mean trick!" she scolds.

"But it was funny," Jim counters, grinning at the girl.

"Only to someone with a poor sense of humor!"

Though, that doesn't stop her from bending to pick up a handful of hay, chucking it at Jim's (still laughing) retreating form.

Cortez trots along happily, grateful to be free of rider, tossing his head playfully as he continues on down the path.

Some distance behind, Jay is not nearly as happy as the horse. He reaches back to finger the back of his shirt - there's a few small tears, and likely a scratch or two - and his shoulder hurts.

"Stupid idiot, why the hell weren't you holdin' onto the reins..."

(At least his swearing and cursing as shifted to himself, now.)

Awhile passes, before the horse calmly makes his way into the open door of the barn, heading for the bucket of grain Katherine and Jim were in earlier.

"Good," Jim praises, peering over Katherine's shoulder at the polishing work she's doing on bits and bridles and various other pieces of tack. He grins, ruffling her hair, snickering a bit as she looks up to glare at him.

(There's much too much affection in her expression to pull off a respectable 'menacing look'.)

After a time, she sets her rag down and hops up, heading into the main way to retrieve the reins she'd left near Beaut's stall. As she passes the feed room she stops, backs up a few steps, and stares.

"...Jim?"

He pokes his head out from the tack room. "What is it?"

The horse is standing near the bucket of grain, chewing. If a horse could look 'calm and thoughtful', that would be the expression on the paint's face, as he turns his attention to the doorway and the girl, ears flicking towards her with interest.

Until he sticks his face back in the bucket.

"Isn't that Jay's horse?" she asks, once Jim joins her at the doorway.

Beat.

"Yep."

He moves inside the room carefully, giving the paint a wide berth and approaching from where he can see him, before ~~tipping his hat back off his head and away from the horse's reach and~~ gathering up his reins.

"Well--" She looks around the corridor: left, then right. "--Where's Jay?"

"Out in the southern field, I'd reckon."

That is exactly where he is. Walking, slowly, with his left arm pressed against his side and his right crossed over the middle to hold it steady. His boots are crunching quietly against the dirt, until he finds a rock.

And kicks it.

"Damn horse."

He sighs, glances up at the sun, and then continues to walk.

Meanwhile, Cortez continues chewing the mouthful of grain before leaning in closer, in an attempt to eat Jim's hat.

Edited 2009-01-22 03:36 (UTC)

OH NO HE DIDN'T.

Jim leans back and gives the young paint a VERY STERN FACE.

"No. Bad horse."

Once he ~~ensures his hat's safety~~ gets Cortez settled in a stall, with real feed and water, he begins to saddle up his own mount.

"What're you gonna do?" asks Katherine, watching him.

"Go out and haul his rear back in."

"Well, what if he's hurt?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Miss."

"I could come with--"

"No," Jim says, putting a definite stop to that. "You stay here, keep an eye out. I'll git him back, an' then we can see if there's somethin' you can do."

Still kicking that rock.

(And still muttering, apparently.)

"...all I wanted him to do was sit still. Ain't that too much to ask of a horse, sit still and not be scared of a goddamn flock of birds. Course not, be too much to ask. Pansy ass s'probably back sleepin' in a stall. Or halfway down the road..."

Once Jim has saddled up and set off for the southern half of the farm, Katherine wanders the barn, a bit helplessly, for a moment or two.

She glances in Cortez's stall. The horse cranes his neck and gazes back at her, snorting softly.

Her eyes narrow.

"Bad horse."

If it's possible for horses to look sad, well...Cortez just did.

Jay walks on awhile longer, until he hears hoofbeats against the earth from the direction he's walking, and eventually he sees Jim come into view.

Please don't say a word...

(There's a bit of good natured ribbing between the two men before they head back, but he's still favoring his left arm a bit and ignoring the throbbing in the back of his skull.)

Katherine has gone into the house and come back out again, by the time the men make it back. She changed and cleaned herself up a bit, making sure her hands were scrubbed and her hair done proper. There's a look of mildly detached concern on her face as she cranes her neck to see behind Jim, where Jay is sitting.

"You all right?"

Jim is looking like his usual gruff self again, save for that smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as they dismount.

"Bit of busted pride..."

There's no way in hell he hides the wince when he hops down off the horse, hand going to his left bicep to hold his arm in place. "Think I did a number on my shoulder while I was at it."

Ain't that bad, but still. It hurts.

She's stifling a small smile when he first speaks, picturing the myriad ways he could have found himself suddenly removed from his horse, but that wince and his closing remarks sober her right quick.

"How badly?" she questions, stepping closer to Jay as Jim leads his horse off toward his stall again.

He shrugs.

(Bad idea. Ow.)

Jay slowly brings his left arm up - he can't get it all the way up before he shakes his head and pulls it down again. "Don't think it's broken, just ain't sittin' quite right...think I cut myself a bit fallin', but s'just a coupl'a scratches..."

Jim glances over the back of his horse, looking grim. He eyes Katherine seriously when she turns to him, and nods once.

"You best git him inside and let Henry take a look at that arm," he cautions, continuing to unbuckle his tack.

She nods, turning back to Jay. She doesn't remember placing her hand on his good arm, but there it sits.

"C'mon inside, and we'll have a look."

"Yeah."

As they walk up into the house, he kicks his boots a little against the steps to get some of the dust off, and the same goes for his hat, which he tugs off his head and then smacks against his pants.

"Knocked my head pretty good too," he admits. "But I ain't bleedin', at least, hat was 'tween me and the ground."

Katherine glances up, allowing a bit more worry to shine through, as she examines his head. His hair is dirty, sweaty from the midday heat and leather of his hat, but she sees no telltale signs of blood. She nods slowly.

"We'll get you settled down, then I'll take a look, all right?"

She leads him to the kitchen, pausing in the dining room to pick up a wooden chair. "Henry?" she calls, letting the name echo through the house. She hears a distant, answering call, and beckons him to her.

Setting the chair in the middle of the kitchen, she instructs Jay to sit, and begins unbuttoning her cuffs and rolling up her sleeves.

He sits, as instructed, and leans forward a little in the chair to scrub a hand over his face - his good 'hand', so to speak - before he settles back, shifting his gun belt on his hips just slightly to get comfortable.

Everytime he moves his left arm, he cringes slightly, but he sets his jaw and keeps his mouth shut from yelping.

"Appreciate you takin' a look, Miss," he says quietly, voice just a bit tight.

"Don't mention it," she murmurs, watching his face carefully each time he shifts and settles.

Henry enters the room cautiously, and Katherine quickly fills him in. He nods, and asks Jay himself about where he's experiencing discomfort, and how he fell.

"Miss Katherine, could you fetch some water from the pump? Get the stove goin' too, if you don't mind," he instructs gently.

She nods obediently, and hurries to do what he says.

"I wasn't hangin' on, was just finishin' up writing some notes down for later when a dang flock of birds got stirred up, Cortez hauled back an' I just went down. Landed on the back'a my shoulder, knocked the wind clear out of me..."

He continues to tell a few more details, trying to flex his arm.

"...hit my head real good, saw stars fer a minute or two but ain't dizzy now. Shoulder just don't feel right."

Henry nods along as Jay speaks, using his thumb to pull open his eyes a bit to check his pupils.

"Think you mighta broken something?" he asks.

"Too sore t'tell, honestly. Nothin' feels all that messed up, I think my shoulderblade would hurt more if I'd cracked it."

He allows Henry to look in his eyes.

"Might've pulled a couple muscles but it ain't all that bad, really. Just my arm hurtin' like hell."

Another nod.

"Think y'can get that shirt off?"

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