Chapter 36 More Memories of Grace
The freedom and wildness of trailing the herd of horses to the homestead had worked its magic on Evan as his eyes took in the familiar sights of the valleys and ridges that were as much a part of himself as his family members. They were his family and friends and he looked upon them with the same fondness, knowing all of their little quirks and fits and loving them anyway. Everything else was forgotten, and that deep instinct that caused Buck to wander off into the wild and raise his nose to the air in that lonely call which comes from deep inside the soul lingered in Evan’s chest as he entered the valley where the homestead that he owned was located.
The patchwork of the ridges was in its usual form, with the mixture of green that ranged from the very pale tone of the new spring leaves of the aspen trees, to the medium green of the pine, to the deeper, almost black tone of the fir and spruce trees. Dabbed into the mixed pallet of green were various colors of rocks and open parks where sage brush thrived, adding its grey, blue, and purple tones to the canvas. The creator’s hand was certainly at its finest when he laid out that particular valley. It was a mixture of nearly every color of the spectrum and was especially vibrant in later June and early July when the wild flowers had reached their fullest and added splashes of brilliant color. The stream that meandered through the bottom and wandered over near the steep ridge was lined with willows which produced brilliant flowers of their own and the green grass that lined the spring stretched as far as it could up and across the bottom forming a battle line between the grey sage and the green grass in a war over territory that was defined by the presence of moisture.
One of the first things that Evan did after arriving at the homestead was to turn the water from the creek into the ditches that carried it out from the bottom and higher up along the edges of the valley, so that he could irrigate the pasture through the summer and keep the grass growing for the horses. The damming of the creek brought on a new thrill that he had loved since he was a boy. He beamed as he entered the house while Grace was putting things away. “Let’s go fishing,” he said.
“Oh Honey,” she replied. “I forgot the poles. I’m sorry. I had them set out and meant to bring them, but...”
“We don’t need poles,” he grinned.
“What?” she replied.
“Grab that bucket and let’s go fishing,” he answered.
“But without poles...”
“You have so much to learn,” he smiled. “Come on.”
“Okay,” she said, following him. The look on her face revealed the complete and utter confusion that was circling about in her head like a gull searching for food. She could not grasp in her mind any form of fishing that required only a bucket. She had been clam digging many times, but she knew that there were no clams here. She followed along behind Evan until they reached the stream. She noticed that it seemed like it was pretty low on water and then she saw Evan lie down on the bank of the stream. In the next instant, he reached into the pool of water like a cat pouncing on its prey. His hands lingered there only a moment and then suddenly they came up out of the water hurling a trout at her. She dodged the trout, not knowing what it was at first and then examined it flopping in the grass.
“Put that one in the bucket and come on,” he called out. He was as excited as a child. His excitement captured her as well. She eagerly dove into the new game. They spent the entire afternoon following along the stream from one end of the homestead to the other catching the larger fish in the pools and putting them in the bucket.
“Are we going to catch them all?” she said.
“No, just the ones that are good eating size,” he said.
“But with the water going down in the stream won’t the others die?”
“No, the water will flow across the pasture and run back into the creek and fill it back up,” he replied. “In a day or two the creek will be near the same level as before.”
“This is a lot of fish,” she replied. “There must be thirty of them in there.” She wiped a muddy hand across her brow as she spoke. She was soaked from head to foot, just as Evan was. The water was cold, but the intensity of the sun was warming her.
“They're pretty small. You can eat a dozen of them in a sitting,” he replied.
They had a fish dinner that evening and Evan was right. By the time the brook trout were cleaned and cooked there wasn’t a lot to them, and the two of them eagerly consumed a dozen of the sweet, pink meat fish. Evan called it her “baptism” into the homestead and swore that it was that cold water flowing through his veins that kept him from being able to completely abandon the homestead forever. From that moment on, he began to talk of “when they lived there” in a future sense. It wasn’t just a fantasy and as they spend more and more days there, Grace began to see that Evan had serious plans in his mind for a future right there in that isolated little valley in the mountains.
His mind drifted back from his memories of Grace, feeling the wound of the sweet relationship they'd had in the beginning. It was probably better that Alex had left. She was a city girl from the east, used to the culture of the city, and probably wouldn't be any better suited to his way of life than Grace had been. Despite the rationalization, the deep ache in his chest wouldn't go away. He did his best to get his mind off of both women as he trailed along behind the small bunch of cattle, which had started down the slope of the narrow valley where Elk Creek, lined by willows, cut through the sage.