Shaxoa's Gift by DelSheree Gladden

quick nod, I turned away and left the
living room for the hot summer afternoon and the hope that physical
exhaustion would dull the pull to run after Daniel.
     
     
     
    8: Necessities

     
    The sharp bleating of the sheep was a
comforting sound. Walking around the house, I smiled when the
corrals came into view. Simply seeing them made Uriah feel so much
closer. All through growing up I would dream of Daniel when I
slept, my silent friend who was always there. The dreams were
something I longed for before Uriah, but they were ephemeral, not a
part of the real world. The musky smells of animals, and gritty
sand that got in your shoes no matter how hard you tried to keep it
out, those were real. They were connected to Uriah and brought his
memory to the front of everything else. I stared out at the scene,
more grateful for the wooly creatures than I had ever been
before.
    The sheep milled about, eating the thick
desert grasses. All but one. The solitary sheep was still in the
small corral closest to the house. Approaching the animal, I
squatted down to meet the curious creature’s face. It had been
sheared in the spring with the others, but its coat was already
beginning to grow back.
    “Hello, Sage,” I said. I rubbed the sheep’s
head fondly. I couldn’t name every sheep in the herd like Uriah or
his mother could, but I knew this one. Sage was the sheep that had
gotten sick right before a rock climbing trip to El Rito just over
a week ago. Uriah had been forced to stay behind and wait for the
vet, but had thankfully arrived just in time to keep me from
breaking my legs, or worse, when I fell during my first climb. I
rubbed my elbow where several scabs and bruises were still trying
to heal.
    Sage nuzzled my fingers looking for a snack.
“I’m sorry, little one, but I don’t have anything for you right
now. Maybe I can bring you a treat later,” I said. Sage was
recovering without any problem, but the vet had insisted that she
be kept away from the rest of the flock until he came back to check
on her. Knowing Dr. Harris, the slow moving seventy-eight-year-old
veterinarian, he may not make it back to check on Sage for a
while.
    Standing up, I searched the land for Hale.
All I saw was the pale sand spotted with clumps of desert grasses
and low evergreen juniper trees. Taking my search farther away from
the house, I spotted Hale working next to the large corral. Giving
Sage a pat goodbye I walked over to him. Hearing my footsteps, he
looked up in surprise. Four years older than me, Hale and I had
never really spoken much. His younger sister, Anna, graduated a
year ago, and last I heard was going to school in California. I
wondered if Hale was home visiting for the summer or back in San
Juan for good.
    “Claire?” he asked. “I thought you were sick
or something.”
    “I’m feeling a lot better, thank you,” I
said. I wondered how long what had happened in the past few days
would go unnoticed. Small towns weren’t known for keeping
secrets.
    “Is Uriah back?” Hale asked. He glanced
around the ranch, taking in all the work he had been enlisted to
do. The hopeful note in his voice was easy to pick out.
    “No, not yet,” I said. I bit the inside of my
cheek to hold off the familiar pang of fear and regret. The
metallic taste of blood dripped onto my tongue before I finally
relaxed my jaw. It took a few more seconds before I was able to
speak again. “He was here last night for a few minutes, but he had
to leave again. He’ll be back soon.”
    Glancing around, I was quick to change the
subject. I asked, “Do you need any help?”
    “Yeah, sure,” Hale said. He held up a large
baby bottle with a tough rubber nipple. “I can’t get this lamb to
take its bottle. Have you ever done this before?”
    I smiled. Uriah had taught me how to bottle
feed a lamb what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Yeah, I have. You
want me to try?” I asked.
    Hale tossed me the bottle with a grateful
sigh. “I’m going to muck out