Tag: Old Man

Magic – A Holiday Story #4

Published on by Jan Sikes23 Comments

Cabin_Snow

Little by little, Frank Pyburn has learned the child’s name is Jasper and that he has no parents. And, it seems the child is determined to keep with family tradition and bring a tree home on Christmas Eve. He needs the luck. And he’s invited Frank to Christmas dinner.

“Well, now that you mention it, I just might.” Frank finished the coffee and leaned forward. “It gets a mite lonely here from time to time. But, I’d have to ask Aunt Nellie first.”

“Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She’s nice.”

“That’s good to hear, Jasper. I’m glad she treats you well.” Frank pushed to his feet. “Let’s get you bundled up and we’ll go get the truck.”

He gruffly buttoned the top button on the kid’s worn coat and pulled the wool cap down over his small ears. A lump caught in his throat. He grabbed his coat and opened the door.

He choked back tears that threatened to fall. He’d make sure that Jasper Doolin and Aunt Nellie got their Christmas luck. He could use a big dose of it himself, and a good deed on Christmas never hurt anyone.

They traipsed across the yard to the 1921 GMC pickup parked under a shed.

Young Jasper let out a whistle. “This is a beauty, Mr. Frank.”

“It serves the purpose. My daughter insisted I get it after Emma died.”

Jasper scrunched up his nose. “I’m sorry you lost your Miss Emma.”

“Me too,” Frank growled. “Me too. Now, let’s get you a tree. I know exactly where to find the perfect one, and I’ve got an ax behind the seat.”

Frank cranked the engine. It protested before it finally sprang to life.

The headlights reflected off the snow as Frank eased down a country lane. After a few minutes, he stopped and pulled on the brake. He left the headlights on and they cast a warm glow that allowed Jasper to choose a small tree. Then, with the sharp ax, Frank cut it down and tossed it into the bed of the truck.

They hopped inside, and Frank turned back toward the house. Halfway home, he glanced over at the boy to see him sound asleep with his head laying on the door.

His heart melted. This boy reminded him of himself when he was his age. But, it was evident that life had tossed Jasper Doolin a hard road to walk.

Visions of Emma in the lavender dress he loved so much swam before his eyes. Oh, how he missed her bustling around their small house baking pies and stringing garland. Painful loneliness gnawed at his gut. Emma would want him to help Jasper.

When they reached the ranch house, he gently woke Jasper. “We’re back at my house, Jasper. But, we need to get you on home.”

Jasper sat up, yawned big, and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, Mister Frank. I sure do appreciate you helping me.”

“It’s nothing. But, I’ve got another idea. How about you run inside and get your stuff, and I’ll drive you back to Aunt Nellie’s. Then tomorrow, we can get Magic.”

“Okay.” Jasper opened the door, dashed inside and returned with his saddlebags.

Frank drove while Jasper told him what road Aunt Nellie lived on. He was surprised at how far Jasper had ridden on Magic. No wonder he fell asleep on the horse.

Thirty minutes later, he pulled up in front of a small wood-framed house. Candlelight flickered through the windows and Frank could only guess that Aunt Nellie was worried sick about young Jasper. He didn’t miss small eyes peeking around the edge of a curtain when they walked up to the door dragging the tree.

Jasper knocked. “Aunt Nellie, it’s me, Jasper. Unlock the door.”

A bolt slid across, and a scrawny woman flung the door wide. “Jasper!” She hugged the boy. “You had me worried sick.”

Frank removed his hat. “I found him over by my place. He’d fallen off Magic and hit his head.”

“But, I’m okay now, Aunt Nellie. And look, Mister Frank helped me get us a tree. We can have good luck now and maybe you won’t have to cry so much.”

The woman eyed Frank. “Well, the both of you come on in out of the cold.” She shooed the children back and stepped aside.

Frank lifted the tree over the threshold and followed Jasper. Once inside, he faced the woman and stuck out his hand. “I’m Frank Pyburn, ma’am. I live over on the other side of the creek.”

She shook his hand. “I can’t thank you enough for helping Jasper. He didn’t tell me where he was going, and I just knew something had happened to him.”

Jasper stood beside her and three smaller children huddled close, never taking their eyes off the tree resting against the wall. “I told you, Aunt Nellie, I had to get us a tree, so we would have good luck like Pa always said.”

Her eyes misted. “Can I offer you something hot to drink, Mr. Pyburn?”

“No. I’ve gotta be getting back. But, if it’s okay with you, tomorrow I’ll pick up Jasper and take him to get Magic and see them both home safely.”

“Of course, it’s okay. But, only on one condition. If you don’t have any other plans, I’d be pleased to have you join us for Christmas dinner. It’s the least I can do to repay you for looking out after Jasper.”

Frank’s gaze swept the simple dwelling. While the furnishings were sparse, the floors sparkled, clean, and there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. He’d be back tomorrow. But, when he came, he’d have his arms full.

He couldn’t stop a grin that spread across his face. Just like Santa Claus.

The idea that he could bring Christmas cheer to this kind woman and children brought him great joy.

Already, he was thinking about the venison in his freezer and the canned vegetables that Emma had left behind. Maybe he could even scrounge up some gifts for the children.

He’d found a purpose for enjoying Christmas again.

With a light heart, he said his goodbyes and drove the faithful old truck back to his empty home. But, somehow, it didn’t seem nearly as lonely or empty as it had a few hours ago.

When he parked under the shed and headed inside, he could almost smell Emma’s wonderful cherry pies and hear her sweet laughter drifting across the snow-covered ground.

He looked up at the black velvet star-filled sky. “You’re one lucky man, Frank Pyburn,” he said.

A whinny from the barn confirmed Magic agreed with him and that was one smart horse. “Christmas Magic,” thought Frank. That should be the horse’s new name for that is what he’d brought…A boy and his pony on one starry Christmas Eve.

THE END

Old Pickup_Tree

 

 

Magic – A Holiday Story #2

Published on by Jan Sikes38 Comments

Cabin_Snow

MAGIC

JAN SIKES

Last week an old rancher, Frank Pyburn, found an insistent horse clomping on his porch. The horse seemed determined to take him to someone or something. Let’s join them.

“I hope you know where you’re going,” Frank let the reins fall loose in his hands. The horse came to a halt near the fence line.

Frank eased off the horse, gun cocked and scoured the ground. A small lump covered with a light layer of snow groaned and moved.

“Hey,” Frank knelt beside the small form. He brushed the snow away to find a young boy with a nasty bump on his head. “Can you hear me?”

A groan escaped the boy’s frozen lips.

Frank leaned his rifle against a fencepost and picked up the limp boy. He glanced at the horse. “I suppose this is your owner.”

The horse snorted.

“Well, it’s a good thing you came and got me. He wouldn’t have lasted long out here.” He found a blanket rolled up behind the saddle and wrapped it tight around the boy.

How on earth would he be able to get back on the horse holding the boy?

As if reading his mind, the horse kneeled in the snow.

“I’ll be damned. If you ain’t somethin’.”

Frank reached for his rifle and stuck it between the saddle and leather strap. Then holding the boy, he straddled the horse. As soon as he gained his balance, the horse stood and trotted back toward the ranch house.

When they reached the porch, he slid from the horse and retrieved his rifle. “I’ll be back to tend to you shortly,” he said.

The horse snuffed and tossed his head.

Frank lost no time getting the boy inside and laid him on a rug in front of the fireplace. After a closer look at the bump, it didn’t appear to be as bad as he’d first thought. The boy was lucky.

He grunted when he pushed himself up. “You’re gettin’ too old for this kind of stuff, old man,” he muttered, as he slipped out of his coat and gloves.

The boy suddenly sat up with wide terror-filled eyes and cried out.

Frank knelt beside him. “I’m not gonna hurt you, boy. I’m just tryin’ to help.”

The boy’s eyes shot around the room. “Where am I? Who are you?” Where’s Magic?”

“Whoa there, stud. One question at a time. I’m Frank Pyburn, and this is my ranch house. I’m guessin’ Magic’s your horse. That horse saved your life tonight. I brought you back here to keep you from freezing to death. What in tarnation are you doing out on a joy ride on a night like this?”

The boy’s bottom lip trembled, and he jutted his chin out. “Wasn’t no joy ride, mister.”

He rubbed his head and groaned.

“Well, whatever it was, you can tell me all about it later. Right now, we need to get you into some dry clothes.”

The boy tried to stand and wobbled. “I need to get going.”

“You’re not going anywhere kiddo. Settle down and let’s get this all figured out. You got a name?”

“Jasper.” The boy stuck out his hand. “Jasper Doolin.”

Frank shook the small hand. “Well, then, Jasper Doolin, do you have any dry clothes in your saddlebags?”

Jasper nodded. “Got any coffee, Mister Frank?”

Frank grinned. “I reckon I do at that. Sit here by the fire, and I’ll fetch it, then I’ll get your saddlebags.”

He returned to find the boy leaning against the threadbare sofa.

“Here you go.” He pressed the cup into his small hands. “I’ll be right back.”

As he shrugged back into his coat, a million questions swarmed around him. What on earth was a young boy doing out by himself on a night like this? Something told him the answer would be unsettling.

Rather than taking time to look through the saddlebags out in the cold, Frank draped them over his shoulder and darted back inside.

He found Jasper pulling off scuffed boots and wiggling his toes close to the fire. Frank guessed him to be around ten years of age and in better condition than he’d first thought.

“Here are your saddlebags, son. Why don’t you get into dry clothes while I tend to Magic?”

Jasper nodded and once more, Frank trudged back out into the cold.

Frank talked to the horse while he led him into the barn and took the saddle and blanket off his back. The horse snuffled and whinnied, almost as if could understand every word Frank uttered. In under half an hour, he had Magic settled with fresh water and hay comfortable in the shelter of the barn.

When he opened the door to the house, his nose twitched. He shut the door and hurried into the living room.

 

TO BE CONTINUED…….

Red-Haired_BoyFrank

 

Magic – A Holiday Story #1

Published on by Jan Sikes34 Comments

Cabin_Snow

MAGIC

SEGMENT 1

Frank Pyburn tossed another log into the fireplace, poured two fingers bourbon into his coffee and settled into his easy chair. With joints that ached, he ran a gnarled hand through a shock of white hair. The newest Zane Grey novel lay on the table next to his chair. He kicked off his worn boots, switched on the lamp and reached for it.

That man sure knew how to write a good western.

Frank grunted a little as he settled in and reached for the coffee. The burn felt good and warmed him on the inside.

“Ah,” he said to no one.

After he found his reading glassed under a two-day pile of newspapers, he opened the book.

Halfway through the first chapter, the sound of hooves clomping across his front porch brought him to his feet.

“Damn bears again,” he muttered. “But, since when did bears grow hooves?”

He slipped on his boots and grabbed the Winchester propped beside the door.

“Who’s out there?” He yelled.

A loud whinny cut through the cold Montana air, followed by a snort and a hoof pawing on the wood.

Frank cursed and eased the front door open two inches. He peered out with one eyeball. A saddled brown pony with no rider stamped his foot and nickered.

“Who’s out there?” Frank yelled again.

The horse tossed his head and let out a long whinny.

Frank swung the door open wide and stepped out into the porchlight, gun cocked and aimed.

The horse backed off the porch and continued to toss his head and nicker.

When Frank saw no one, he walked toward the horse and grabbed the trailing reins. “Good boy.” He patted the horse’s thick neck.

“Where’s your rider?”

The horse pulled against the reins and reared.

“Whoa, boy. Whoa.” Frank kept a tight grip on the leather.

The horse jerked against Frank’s hold and whinnied.

“You’re trying to tell me something, aren’t you, boy?” Frank peered into the cold blackness of the night. His gut told him someone was in trouble. “All right. I’ll go with you, you stubborn horse, but I’ve got to get my coat and gloves.”

He pulled on the reins and the horse followed him. “Damned if this don’t beat all. The coldest night of the year and you’re gonna drag me away from my warm fire. You better have a good reason.”

If someone was in trouble, this weather would freeze a person to death in no time.

He tied the horse to the porch rail and stepped back into the warmth of the small ranch house. He shot a longing glance at the fire, his book and the rest of his coffee while he slammed his hat on his head, slipped into his heaviest coat and gloves.

The minute he swung up into the saddle, the horse spun around and took off.

To Be Continued…

Magic