Showing posts with label The Valley of the Blue. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Valley of the Blue. Show all posts

Thursday, June 29, 2023

149;Uncle Albert's Mountain,( The Lure Of The Mountain King;) Chapter XVI, Sara

   Sara stopped and stared longingly into the window of Branigan’s Shop. The hand tooled golden brown leather cowboy boots were still there, right next to the gorgeous knee high riding jodhpurs. They had black and red stitching in a simple yet striking design. The boots would be perfect for her date next Thursday night.

     “Aren’t they absolutely adorable,” she cooed.

     “They sure would turn a lot of heads,” Tom replied, “Why don’t you try’em on.”

     “I already have. The fit is perfect. They wouldn’t even have to be broken in.”

     “So, buy them.”

     “No, no, they’re too expensive.”

     “Come on,” he nudged her. “You need a new pair anyway. Besides, ya said they were perfect. Go ahead, go for it.”

     “Tom, I just can’t afford it,” she retorted, her eyes riveted to the boots. She was struggling desperately with herself to forget logic. She had the urge to splurge for once.

Sara turned and walked away, her logic winning again. Tom grabbed her arm, and quickly pulled her into the store.

     “Come on, I wanna see you in them.”

 

     “Hi, Mr. Brannigan,” Sara approached the counter.

     “Well, hello there Sara,” the soft-spoken owner replied. He towered above them both.

     “How’s your Dad? Haven’t seen’em round lately.”

     “He’s fine. Moms got the flu, but she’s getting better.”

     “You tell her to get plenty of rest before she goes back to work. You know how that flu is round here, if she don’t it’ll never leave till spring.”

     Tom loved the easy relaxed atmosphere. No pressure, no running around, no hustle, no bustle, it was a simple way of life.

     “What can I do for you today?”

     Sara stood gently running her fingers through her hair. She was curling the ends between her thumb and forefinger, staring hopefully at the leather boots in the window.

     “Oh… It’s the boots again,” he knowingly remembered the last time she had come in, how much she had wanted them.

    “Can I try them just once more?”

     He smiled widely and walked to the window, lifting them off the display. They were his last pair in that style. They happened to be her size. She slid into them like they were made for her body.

     “Whatta ya think Tom?” She pirouetted across the floor in front of him. Her blue denim skirt flared out as she twirled and danced, her auburn hair flowing out in an arc away from her body.

     “You’re the Sweetheart of the Rodeo, in them,” Tom said lovingly.

     Mr. Brannigan stood watching the young loving couple. He thought of his wife and he, many years before. He scratched his chin.

     Tell ya what I’m gonna do, darling,” his eyes twinkled. “I’ll give ‘em to ya for cost, since they’re the last pair left. Your folks helped me through some very lean years. I think it’s about time I returned the favor.”

     “Sara’s parents had run the General Store in Old Dillion for close to thirty years. She remembered Mr. Brannigan coming in ever since she was a little girl. Her father had given him credit when he had needed it most. There were some difficult years in the early Sixties. The Denver water Board had begun buying up Dillion Property from the owner’s who were unable to raise tax money during the Depression years. By the late Forty’s they owned most of Old Dillion. In the late Fifty’s, they all but crippled the community by announcing plans for damming the lush delta formed by the trinity of rivers, the  mighty, Blue, Ten Mile, and Snake Rivers, referred to as Nah-Oon-Kara, The Valley of the Blue, by the Uncompaghre Ute Native Tribes. They would build Roberts Tunnel, 23 miles long, starting in 1951 under the Continental Divide Mountains, to the North Fork and South Platte River, to supply the blossoming Denver Metropolis with much needed water. They had given the homeowners and businessmen until 1961 to vacate. If it hadn’t been for the closeness of the Community, they might never have survived. They not only survived, but with the new Reservoir and Eisenhower Tunnel through the Divide, they began prospering. The townspeople still helped each other.

     “Really,” Sara couldn’t hide her delight. Tom stood grinning from ear to ear. Mr. Brannigan grabbed her old boots, and put them in the box. He went behind the counter and wrote out the sales slip.

     “If you can’t afford them now, give me what you can, and come back and pay the balance when you’ve got it.”

     Sara kept looking down at her feet as they walked out the door.

     “You take care now Sara Lyn.”

     “Thanks again Mr. Brannigan,”Sara waved as they went out into the street.

     She slid out of her blue knapsack, and gave Tom a big hug.

     “Wha- What’s that for?”

     “Well, you were the one who made me go in there in the first place. If not for you, I’d still be in those beat up old things. Besides,” she said, pulling on her pack and flipping her hair out from under it. “A girl doesn’t need a reason to hug her man.”

 

     She turned and started down the street, Sara loved him more and more each day. Every little thing they did together was special. She looked down at her feet and started crying.
     “Now what are you crying for?”

     “Honestly Tom, you may know everything there is to know about mountains, but when it comes to women. You’re such a big jerk! She started walking away. Tom stood there raising his hands.

     “What did I do?”

     Every moment they shared was better than the last. Her only problem was in not being able to say it. She couldn’t hold it much longer. Win or lose, she had to face the consequences. She hated not knowing the future, and was afraid of living for today.

Narayana/For Your Love, Krishna Das, Heart As Wide As The World