The Cowgirl

By Ed Carlson

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This story is purely fictitious. The names used herein are for character

identification and should not be construed as real people, alive or dead.

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“Morning Hank.”

“Morning Miss Josey,” Hank replied.

“Are we all set to drive the herd up to the north range?” I asked.

“Just as soon as we get Dandy saddled and Cookie gets the rest of his stuff loaded. I’d like to pull out by nine.”

“Why don’t I ride that new paint that you broke last week?”

“Are you sure Miss Josey? He’s still got a lot of spunk in him. Bucked George off yesterday.”

“Good. It’ll be another challenge for me. Go ahead and saddle him.”

“OK. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Hank said as he walked back to the coral.

I turned and walked back into the ranch house. I stopped at the door for a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the dim light of the large living room. In a moment, I continued on up the stairs. I had packed most of the things I would be needing. I finished by putting a clean bra in the saddlebag. I was quite proud of myself for being able to pack a week’s worth of clothes in saddlebags. I struggled with the straps the way I always do. I can do most things with these damn hooks, but sometimes I have trouble with straps and buckles. I finally won the small battle and slung the saddlebag over my shoulder. The weight of the saddlebag pressed down on my over-the-shoulder strap that held my left arm in place. It was part of a bilateral harness and identical to the right arm.

I admired myself in the mirror. I was wearing my tight blue jeans and my western boots complete with spurs that made my long legs look even longer. I had a tight western shirt that showed off my nicely developed breasts. The new shiny steel hooks were showing out from the cuffs of my shirt, which were snapped around my prosthetic wrists. My blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. I thought I really looked sharp.

With my saddlebags slung smartly over my shoulder, I walked out onto the balcony and pulled my door shut with my hook. I thought briefly how much easier things were once I had them install the lever hardware everywhere on the ranch. Doorknobs were a thing of the past here on the J-Double-Hook Ranch. I continued on down the stairs and then into the kitchen. Cookie was gone. I looked out the window and saw him putting the last of the supplies in the back of the old pickup.

“Mariah, lock up before you leave.”

She answered from the other end of the house, and I walked out the back door, then down the steps. “Are you about ready?” I asked.

“That’s the last of it. I’m set,” Cookie replied.

“Good. I’ll tell Hank. See you at the lunch stop,” I said as I started for the corral.

They were just finishing putting the saddle on the paint when I got there. “Is he ready?”

“The question is, are you ready Miss Josey?” one of the wranglers said as he took my saddlebag and tied it to the saddle of the freshly broken paint horse.

“No time like the present. Hold his head,” I said as I put a foot up into the stirrup. With a hook around the saddle horn, I tried to pull myself up but couldn’t get the leverage I needed. “Need a little boost,” I said.

With my foot still in the stirrup, I gave a hop with the foot still on the ground. The wrangler caught my boot in midair and continued my upward movement. They were used to helping me. It was almost like it was part of their job. In fact, it is part of their job. They all work for me, and I pay them for what I want them to do. If I want to get on a horse, then it’s their job to see that I get on the horse.

I swung my leg over and was seated firmly in the saddle when I put my free foot in the stirrup. The wrangler held the colt’s head a little longer to let him settle down and to be sure that I had the reins grasped firmly in my hooks. As soon as he released the bridle, the young horse reared and then settled down as I spoke softly to him. He raced around the corral a couple of times and reared again when I pulled back on the reins. He quickly settled down, and it became apparent that he and I would become good friends. We walked around the corral a couple of times before I signaled for one of the boys to open the gate. The young paint remained calm as we walked slowly out of the corral. Hank and the rest of the crew followed as my new friend and I headed for the herd.

Hank joined me, and we led the way as we started up the road. After we had gone a little way, I let the young paint have his head. He increased his walk to a trot and eventually broke into a gallop. I let him go about a half mile before I reined him in, no easy task for a girl with two artificial arms that terminate in shiny steel hooks. Because my little arm stumps are so short, less than three inches, I have a difficult time getting much leverage. We waited for Hank and the rest of the hands to catch up.

“That young paint really likes to run,” Hank observed as he rode up beside me.

“He’s a spirited one all right,” I replied as I worked at controlling the horse. With the rest of the hands trailing along, we were soon at the herd.

Hank gathered the hands around and made their assignments. We would rotate positions every hour. Each of the hands knew what needed to be done. I started by riding point with Hank. The rest of the hands moved into position as we began to bunch and move the herd northward. Leading the way and riding point is probably the best position to be on in a cattle drive. That is, if you know where you’re going and what you’re doing. This is my fifteenth drive. My first one was when I was ten. I got to ride with Cookie in the chuck wagon then.

Hank dropped back, and I was left alone leading the herd. We came up over a bluff. The huge sky was magnificent. It was a deep blue with white billowy clouds. The country seemed to stretch indefinitely. The tall grass waved in the breeze like waves on the ocean. I remember seeing the ocean once. It was when I was three and just getting out of the hospital. I remember that I was wearing my new arms with the shiny steel hooks. My mind wandered as I continued to lead the herd slowly across the vast open spaces following the track that Cookie had made with the pickup. An old sickle bar hay mower lying in the middle of a field flashed back my memory to the accident so many years ago.

I was three at the time. I loved to watch the hands put up hay. Especially the way, with two of them working together, they would pick up almost an entire shock of hay and pitch it onto the hay wagon. I loved to watch my father cut hay. I had been following along while my father cut the hay with the sickle mower. A team of two white horses pulled the mowing machine. I was walking close behind when I stumbled over a rock and fell forward across the sickle bar. Instinctively I stuck my arms out to break my fall. I still clearly remember my father yelling ‘whoa’ just as the freshly sharpened sickle bar sliced both of my arms off almost right at the shoulder. I remember him yelling for help and seeing blood all over the freshly mown hay. My blood.

I don’t remember much after that. I barely remember being in Doc Nelson’s office before they moved me to the hospital in the city. I remember my mom crying a lot as she sat by me in the hospital. I remember how much my arms hurt, or what was left of them. I remember how frustrated I was because I couldn’t do things; I still am, as far as that goes. I remember the look on my father’s face when he realized what had happened. He had a hard time being around me after that and soon left mom and me to run the ranch by ourselves. I saw him a couple of times before he died. He asked for my forgiveness on his deathbed. It was a forgiveness that I never had to give because I had never held him responsible for my accident. After all, it wasn’t his fault I tripped. Mom’s life wasn’t much fun either I guess. She raised me by herself, out here in the wide-open spaces. She helped me get used to my new arms and always found the money to buy me new ones as I grew. Because I’ve always worn artificial arms, I’m really quite helpless with them off. I can’t pick things up with my toes the way that some double arm amputees can. I use my teeth a little, but not much. I rely on these hooks a lot more than I like to admit. The kids at school started to tease me about my arms. I put a stop to that by hitting one bully alongside the head with a hook. Mom died two years ago. I inherited the spread and changed its name. Kind of fitting I thought. Strange the way your mind wanders.

“Time to switch,” Hank said as he rode up and snapped me back to the present. “How’s that young paint doing?”

“He’s doing fine. He’s going to be a good horse.”

“Why don’t you put him through his paces and pick up strays?” Hank said.

“OK,” I said as I wheeled off to the side. I sure am lucky to have Hank. He knows what he’s doing, and because the hands all respect him, they work hard for him.

The herd continued on by as I sat there on my new paint horse. When they had passed, I fell in behind and began searching the little draws and pockets for strays. I found a couple and worked them back into the herd. I followed along behind, and soon we were stopping the herd by the lake while we took a lunch break.

One of the wranglers tied my horse to Cookie’s truck for me, and I swung down. It felt good to stretch. Soon Cookie had sandwiches and coffee served to everyone. As was our custom, Hank and I were the last ones to get our food. As I sat there eating, I felt as though someone was watching. I looked up to see one of our new wranglers looking at me. He quickly looked away when we made eye contact. I continued to look at him and smiled broadly at him when he turned back to me. He smiled back shyly. I finished eating my lunch and had another cup of Cookie’s coffee. Then I got up and walked over to the wrangler. “How are you doing?” I asked.

“Just fine Miss Josey. That grub sure tasted good.”

“I noticed you staring at my hooks. Have you ever seen things like these up close before?”

“I’m awfully sorry about the staring Ma’am,” he stammered apologetically. “It’s just that I’ve never seen a girl with a hook arm before, let alone two of them.”

“Here, take a good look,” I said as I raised an arm and held the hook where he could watch as I opened and closed it. “These are manual hooks and operate by cables that I operate by pulling with my opposite shoulder. See?”

“I wondered what made them work. You sure do use them good,” he said, dumbfounded that I would be so brave as to show him my hooks.

“I should by now. I’ve been wearing arms like this for twenty-two years now. Lost the real arms when I was only three. These arms are really the only arms I ever remember using,” I said as we walked over to the horses. “I’ll need a boost up. Because I have only very short arm stubs, I can’t get very much leverage.”

“I’ll be glad to help you Miss Josey,” he said.

I put my foot in the stirrup and one hook around the saddle horn. I gave a hop, and he caught my boot and continued my upward direction. I settled down in the saddle; he untied the new paint horse, then handed me the reins. I opened a hook and took them from him, then let the hook close. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“It’s Ralph, Ma’am.”

“Ralph, thanks for the boost. See you around.”

He smiled and tipped his broad brimmed hat.

As I sat back in the saddle, I could feel the beginning of my monthly occurrence—something I had not prepared for. I wheeled the horse around and rode over to Hank who had just mounted up.

“Who’s your new friend?” Hank asked.

“Oh, Ralph was looking at my hooks, so I gave him a little demonstration. How long has he been with us?”

“Two months now. I’ve had him mostly working line fence. That’s why you haven’t seen him around much.”

“Is he a good worker?”

“He sure is. I wish all of my hands were that good. He’s a bit on the shy side. I don’t think he’s been around girls that much.”

“How old is he?”

“He just turned twenty-one. Why the interest?”

“He just seemed like a nice young fellow. You know me, always looking. Where do you want me?”

“Why don’t you hang back and watch for strays until we get back away from the canyon?” Hank said.

“OK, then I need to go back to the ranch and pick up some things I forgot. I’ll catch up in the morning,” I replied.

“Let me send one of the boys back with you. There’s no one back there.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be all right by myself.”

I helped the wranglers get the herd moving. A couple of cows strayed from the herd, and I was quickly able to get them back in line.

The herd was well out of the canyon when I dropped back to check out one of the little draws near the lake to see if any strays had ventured there. The new paint horse and I made a sweep of the draw and determined that none of the strays had ventured in there. Now the canyon was deserted, and none of the herd was there. It was kind of an eerie place as the wind whistled through the sage brush.

I decided to try and go up the side of the canyon rather than going back and all the way around. I urged the young paint horse up the steep slope that formed the wall of the canyon. I had one hook clamped firmly around the saddle horn and the other holding the reins. We had gone over halfway up when he hesitated. I urged him on with my spur. This was the first time he had been spurred, and he reared, then lunged forward. His actions surprised me. My feet came out of the stirrups, and I began sliding backwards over his rear. As I slid, the reins tightened even more, which made him rear again. This action left me hanging by my hook that was still clamped firmly to the saddle horn. As my arm came up over my head, I could feel the artificial arm coming out of the socket and separating from my little arm stub. My western shirt was becoming tighter around my neck as the arm pulled further away. I began gasping for air as I struggled to get out of my predicament. Suddenly the snap buttons on my shirt began to pop, and I slid further away from the arm that was completely clear of the socket by this time, being held in proximity by the bilateral harness and the shirt. He jumped again. My shirt came off completely, as did my other arm still attached to the bilateral harness. I fell to the steeply sloping ground. The horse turned and bolted down the canyon with my arms still attached to the saddle and flopping wildly around as he continued to run and buck. With no arms and unable to stop myself, I began to tumble and roll down the steep canyon side. I rolled and tumbled for what seemed like an eternity until I came to rest in a dead wild rose bush.

I was dazed as I lay there. My stump socks were snared by the bush and remained with the bush when I struggled to my feet. It felt strange to be standing all alone in only my bra with no prosthetic arms, which were so much a part of me, the arms that were the first thing that I put on each morning, and the arms that I removed as I was getting into bed. It felt almost as if I were naked. I started to walk back down the canyon toward the lake. I was amazed how much lighter I felt without the weight of the arms which I always wore.

I considered going back up the canyon side now that I was on foot. I quickly dismissed the idea when I thought of slipping and rolling back down the canyon side again. My way out had to be by backtracking to the end of the canyon down by the lake. I started my long walk. My spurs jingled with each step, and I soon wished that I could be rid of them. After a good half hour of walking, I finally made it back to the little lake. The afternoon sun beat down on me, and the reflection from the lake made it even brighter. I could feel my untanned shoulders starting to sunburn. Suddenly I was extremely thirsty and dying for a drink of water. I walked along the edge of the lake until I came to a spot where I thought I could get a drink.

The grassy bank sloped steeply right to the water’s edge. If I only had hands, I could have just reached down and scooped up several handfuls of water and been on my way. Instead, I lay down on my stomach close to the water with my feet uphill. I used the toes of my boots to propel me ahead slowly. My arm stubs are so short that they don’t touch the ground when I lie on my breasts. I continued to inch myself slowly to the point where my face was out over the shallow water. I “reached” out and bent my face down to the water and took a good drink. I came up for air and went back for another. With my thirst quenched, I tried to wiggle my way back up the hill. As I wiggled, I only slid further down the bank until my breasts were in the water and stirring up the mud bottom. The more that I struggled, the further I slid, until I was having difficulty keeping my head above water. I screamed for help to no avail. My nearest assistance must have been miles away by then. I gave a large push forward with my boots and slid all the way into the water. I was able to get my feet under me and then, thoroughly drenched, stand up. I must have been a sight standing there in the shallows of the lake dripping wet in muddy water, with no arms, in just my bra, blue jeans, and cowboy boots.

I took a couple of steps up the slippery, grassy bank and slipped. With no arms to break my fall, I landed hard on my breasts. As I tried to get up, I slid back into the lake. I got to my feet and waded along the shallow water until the bank flattened out where the cattle had drunk. I slipped again—this time in the mud. I slipped several more times as I struggled to my feet. By the time I was able to get out and back to the trail, I was thoroughly covered with mud—mud that had less than a pleasant odor. With my boots full of water and my spurs jingling, I started back down the trail for home.

I came to a large rock with a sharp edge. I was able to work the straps of the spur on my right foot enough to make the spur fall off. I was equally successful with the left. I was also able to lie on my back to elevate my feet and drain the water out of my boots. With my tight blue jeans freshly wet again, I continued my hike. The warm afternoon sun and the ever-present wind soon dried my clothing, which was now thoroughly caked with mud. The trail worked its way up from the lake and back up to the broader trail. I kept going, and soon I was in an area where the herd apparently milled around a lot. By the tracks, I couldn’t determine which way the trail went. As I looked around, I saw several trails going every which way from this point. There was no sign of the tracks that Cookie’s truck made. Becoming quite concerned, I decided to start in the direction of what I believed to be the ranch house.

I had walked about an hour, all the time looking for a familiar landmark. I found none. What seemed to be such a simple task as going back the way I came had turned into a nightmare. I was beginning to panic. I left the trail that I was following and struggled up to the top of the hill. The view from the top of the hill was commanding. I felt much relieved when I spotted the ranch house, even though it was a long way off in the distance. It was about ninety degrees from the direction that I had been traveling. Noting the sun’s position securely in my mind, I started down the rolling hills toward the house. High clouds were building. There would be no stars tonight.

The hike was long, and I reached the ranch house complex quite a while after sundown. The twilight was about to turn to darkness when I walked up on the large verandah porch. The motion sensor turned the light on. I instinctively tried to reach for the door handle with my nonexistent hook. I felt kind of silly when I realized what I had done. I stepped back and pushed the lever down with my boot. Nothing happened. Then I remembered telling Mariah to lock up before she left. The key is kept over the door on the trim piece. Without arms, there was no way that I could reach it. I had given Mariah the rest of the week off, and she was going to town to visit her sister. The place was completely deserted and had a strange silence. I turned and started back down the stairs from the verandah. When I was half way down, the light went out. I stumbled when I reached the bottom step. This time when I fell, I was able to roll and break my fall.

I struggled to my feet and started for the barn. It was a moonless night and now, with the high overcast, pitch black. I couldn’t have seen my hand in front of my face even if I had one. After much wandering around in the dark, I finally found the barn. It was as dark inside as it was outside. We had never installed electricity in the barn or any yard lights. I managed to feel the wall with my short right arm stub. I found a horse stall and went inside. Luckily, the stalls had all been cleaned and new bedding hay put down before the hands left to move the herd. My luck was still running when I brushed what I believed to be a horse blanket with my breasts. It smelled like one as I got my face close to it. Using an arm stub and my breasts, I managed to locate the end. I used my teeth to pull it down to the floor of the stall. I got to my knees and straightened the blanket out using my teeth. I found what I believed to be the middle and wiggled under it for warmth during the night. I must have been more tired than I thought and fell right to sleep.

I awoke the next morning with sun streaming in the open barn door and shining on me. The warmth of the sun felt good after the cold of the high desert night. It took me a moment to figure out where I was. I thought for a moment and then did a full recall of the previous day’s adventure. I rolled over and got on my knees. The horse blanket slid off when I sat up and back on my heels. The crotch of my blue jeans was badly stained a bright crimson. I struggled to my feet and made my way outside into the bright morning sunlight.

I walked over to the house. I tried the front door again with no success at entry. I walked around to the back. The back door was secured as well. I walked around the house looking for an open window. The only one I found open was the window to my bedroom on the second floor. If only I had arms and hands, I could have climbed up the latticework that the roses climbed. Being almost completely armless, it was out of the question. If only I was inside, I could put on my old arms and be able to manage. Being almost totally dependent on prosthetics to function is the pits—when you’re stuck without them.

I walked around the house again looking for some other means of entry. I was in luck. An old ladder was leaning up against the side of the house. It was going up to the verandah roof—the same roof that was under my window. I hate high places, and I’d never climbed a ladder before, but there is always a first time for everything. I started slowly up the rickety old ladder by leaning way forward and resting my breasts on the rungs. I was on the fifth rung when it broke, and I fell with one leg on each side of the fourth rung. My inside leg had also wrapped around the lower rung while my outside leg dangled free. I couldn’t maneuver it to touch anything solid. I couldn’t go up, and I couldn’t go down. I was stuck there on that ladder. If I had arms and hands, I simply could have pulled myself up, but being armless, I was stuck there on the ladder.

I sat there contemplating my fate and having visions of buzzards circling the ranch house. Then I heard a rider coming. When the sound became louder, I began to scream for help.

Ralph came running around the corner. “I heard you yelling and came as fast as I could Miss Josey.”

“Oh Ralph, thank God it’s you. Please, help me down.”

He walked up three rungs of the ladder and put his arm around my waist. He lifted me clear of the ladder rung and then carried me down unceremoniously under his arm. He gently put me on the ground and asked, “Are you all right Ma’am?”

“I’m fine now that you’re here. Why did you come back?”

“The night rider spotted your paint horse running around without you. Hank sent me back to see if you were in trouble.”

“You’re a godsend. Remind me to thank him for sending you. I had visions of staying that way until the whole bunch of you came back. I lost my artificial arms when I fell off the horse, and I’m going to need your help before we ride back to the herd,” I said as we started to walk back around the house. We walked up on the big verandah porch, and I said: “The key to the door is up there on the trim. I need you to unlock the door.”

He reached up and retrieved the key with his right hand. With a quick twist of his wrist, we were inside. I had him follow me inside.

“This is the first time I’ve been in the big house,” he said.

“Use this phone. Call the cell phone in Cookie’s truck. The number is right there. Tell him that I’m OK and that you’re at the ranch house with me. Also, tell them that we should catch up by nightfall.”

He picked up the phone and made the call. The way he talked when Cookie answered reminded me of an old movie where the fellow was shouting into the phone. He finished the call and hung up.

“Cookie said that they caught your horse. It had only one of your hook arms on the saddle. They also have your saddlebags.”

“Good. Please follow me out back. I need your help some more,” I said as I led the way to the back porch and had him unlock the back door. We went out by the hose bib.

“Turn the water on and hose the mud off of me.”

He turned the water on and began hosing me off. The sun-warmed water in the hose felt good at first, but I let out a scream when it turned cold. He immediately quit spraying me when I let out the scream. “That’s OK Ralph; keep going. I’ll get used to it.”

“You startled me when you screamed Ma’am.”

“The water just turned cold; keep going.”

He reluctantly did as he was instructed. He looked like he could almost feel how cold the well water was that he was spraying me with.

“That was real clever of you Ma’am. Getting yourself all covered with mud that way.”

“What do you mean Ralph?”

“The way you covered yourself with mud like that to keep from getting sunburned. I don’t think I would have thought to do it that way.”

“Well, the mud wasn’t my idea. It happened while I was trying to get out of the lake. OK, that’s good,” I said when he had gotten most of the mud off my upper body. “I need to take a shower badly. Mariah usually helps me, but she’s not here. You’ll have to do it.”

“I don’t know if I can Ma’am. I’ve never seen a girl naked except in a magazine.”

“Ralph, relax. I’ll tell you what to do. Because I haven’t had arms since I was only three, people have always helped me with baths and showers. It will be OK.”

“Well, all right Ma’am. What do I do first?”

“Let’s start by pulling my boots off,” I said as I sat on the bench and raised a leg.

He pulled my right, then my left, boot off before he removed my socks.

“The bra is next,” I said as I stood up and turned away from him. “Undo the snap.” I felt his hands tugging at the back strap. “Just push the little hooks together.” Soon the bra strap was loose. I turned to face him. “Now take the bra off.”

His face turned beet red when he removed my bra and stared at my well-developed breasts with my very erect nipples.

“Do you like what you see?” I teased.

Ralph’s face got even redder at my comment. “Y . . . y . . . yes Ma’am.”

“Good, you’ll have a chance to touch them when I’m in the shower. Now undo my blue jeans and take them off.”

He gingerly reached down and undid the top button and unzipped my blue jeans. He then slid them down around my knees. I know that he noticed the crimson color of the crotch, but he didn’t say anything. I sat on the bench. I held up a foot, and he pulled my right pant leg off. I held up my other foot, and he removed them completely and just stood there holding them.

“Just throw them over there,” I instructed and pointed with my chin as I stood up. “OK. Now my underwear.”

He carefully reached over and pulled my soaked panties down around my ankles. I stepped out of them, and he picked them up. Again, he just stood there, holding the panties without comment.

“Just throw them on top of the blue jeans.”

He threw the panties on the blue jeans and just stood there looking like he wanted to run away screaming.

“Come on and follow me,” I said as I walked back into the house.

He followed me. I had him lock the back door again. He followed me into the front entry, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. He paused when I went into my bathroom.

“We’re not done yet. You need to wash me up. It’s OK. Come on in here.”

He sheepishly walked into the bathroom where I stood totally nude.

“Turn on the water in the shower please. I’ll get in, and then you rinse me down with the hand showerhead.”

I stepped into the shower stall, and he reached in and got the hand showerhead, then carefully began to wet me down. His face turned even redder as I spread my legs so that he could rinse my most private parts.

“OK. Now put the showerhead in the holder. Good. Now get a washcloth and soap and lather me up.”

He dutifully did as he was instructed. I held out my little arm stubs for him to do first and then told him to start at my shoulders and work down. He followed my instructions. I bent backward and stuck out my breasts further when it was time for him to wash them. I could tell by the big grin on his face that he was enjoying his task.

“Well, do you like touching them?”

“I sure do Ma’am. I ain’t never touched a woman’s breast before. They are a lot firmer than I thought a breast might be.”

“All women’s breasts are different. Mine are probably firmer than most.”

He didn’t say anything as he continued to wash my body. He appeared to be very intent on his work.

I spread my legs as he began washing my pubic hair. I jumped a little when he hit my spot. His hand was cupped around my crotch when I said, “Do you like touching that?”

He didn’t say anything at first, but the pressure he was applying increased. “I never imagined that you would want me to touch you there Ma’am.”

“I enjoy your gentle touch. Have you ever thought about having sex with me?”

“Oh no Ma’am! I wouldn’t think of such a thing. No Ma’am.”

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like girls?”

“Oh Ma’am, I do like girls. It . . . it . . . it’s just that you’re the boss Ma’am.”

“OK. I won’t embarrass you anymore. Please finish washing me and then rinse me again.”

He quickly finished and rinsed me off again.

“OK. Now wash my hair please. Undo the rubber band. The shampoo is on the shelf beside you.”

He removed the rubber band. I shook my head, and my hair fell down around my shoulders. He wet it down, then lathered it up with the shampoo. He rinsed it, and I had him lather it a second time. Then he thoroughly rinsed all the shampoo off.

“Now turn off the water and dry me off please.”

He reached in and turned off the water. I stepped out onto the bath mat, and he began to gently dry me off with a big fluffy towel. I really did enjoy his touch. I had him dry and comb my hair. When he finished, I walked into the bedroom. Ralph followed.

“Ralph. In the top drawer, there is a clean bra. Could you please put it on me?”

He opened the drawer and took one out. “This one Ma’am?”

“That will do just fine. Now put the cups under my breasts and the straps over my shoulders. Good, now fasten the strap in the back when I turn around.”

He did as he was instructed, and I finally was wearing a clean bra. It felt good to have clean clothing next to my body after my ordeal with the canyon side and the lake.

“OK, we’re doing just fine,” I said as I turned to face him. His face reddened when I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Now also in the top drawer are stump socks. Here, on this end.”

He reached in and pulled out one of the stump socks that I wear.

“Now put one end around this arm. Good. Now flatten out the cloth across my back and put the other end over my other arm. Good,” I said as I stretched and moved to get the stump socks into just the right position. “Now you’re going to help me put on some arms.”

“OK Ma’am. What do I do?”

“Get the arms down from the shelf there. These are my old ones. The ones that I lost are only two months old. Good. Lay them on the bed. OK. Now turn them over so the straps are on top. Give the right one a full twist so that the straps aren’t twisted. Great. Now grab each arm by the upper part. Good. Now pick them up and slide the left one down my left arm when I lift it up. Good. Now the right one. We’re doing just fine. Now help me lower them forward as I let my arms down. Fine. Now please straighten out the straps. Good going; we did it.”

I flexed my shoulders and both hooks opened and closed properly.

“Good job. Ralph, thank you so much,” I said as I rewarded him with a kiss. As shy as he was, he didn’t kiss me back much.

“You’re . . . you’re . . . you’re welcome Ma’am,” he stammered.

“I can finish dressing now. Could you saddle Dandy for me please? I think he’s in the south pasture.”

“OK Ma’am. Be glad to,” he said before he turned and walked quickly out the door like a man who had just been freed from prison.

I went into the bathroom and attended to my monthly occurrence. The cold steel of my hooks touching my most private parts is one thing that has always seemed strange. With the task accomplished, I walked back into the bedroom. I put on panties and clean socks. I got a clean pair of blue jeans out of the drawer and pulled them up, but I didn’t fasten them. I got out a clean western shirt and put it on. As always, I struggled with my hooks to fasten the snaps. I finally got the front snaps done. I heard Ralph come back into the house as I was pulling on my boots.

“Dandy’s all saddled up.”

“Ralph, could you come up and help me a minute please?”

I heard him coming up the stairs.

“Yes Miss Josey.”

I held my arms out and he snapped the cuff buttons around my prosthetic wrists. “Could you please do my top button on my jeans?”

He reached down and gently buttoned the top button and zipped up my blue jeans.

I put my arms around him and pulled him close. I gave him a passionate kiss. This time, he kissed me back. I wanted him right then but knew it was not the time. When the kiss broke off, I said, “That’s for saving me and for all of your help.”

“You’re welcome. I sure wasn’t expecting a reward like that.”

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

He turned and left the bedroom. I grabbed a small purse-sized duffel and put in some feminine products and was able to zip it up. It felt great to have arms and hooks on again.

I took the small duffel and went downstairs. We walked out onto the verandah. I had Ralph lock the door and put the key on top of the trim piece. We walked out to the hitching post. I put one foot up in the stirrup of Dandy’s saddle and one hook around the saddle horn. “I’m going to need a boost,” I said. I gave a hop. Ralph caught my boot in mid air and continued my momentum. I put my other foot in the stirrup. I opened my hook, and Ralph smiled up at me as he put the reins in it.

He got on his horse, and we started out toward the herd. We gave the horses their head, and soon they were going at a moderate gallop.

I reined up when we could see the dust cloud of the herd ahead. We dismounted and sat by the little stream while the horses drank. As we sat there, we kissed a couple of more times. This time, he touched my breasts.

When the horses were rested, he helped me remount. He mounted and moved his horse beside me. I stuck out a hook, and he held it in his hand.

“Ralph, I have a favor to ask.”

“Sure Miss Josey, what is it?”

“I’d like to keep what has happened today our little secret. OK?”

“OK. I can keep a secret.”

“I just don’t want the whole crew looking at me and wishing they could give me a bath too—if you know what I mean.”

“OH yes. I know how the hands do talk. My lips are sealed.”

“I knew I could count on you,” I said. “I would like to go out with you on a date sometime.”

“That would be fine with me too Ma’am,” he said as we gave each other a wink, and we started the horses walking slowly toward the herd, still holding hook and hand together just as the afternoon sun began to set.

E N D