High Meadow, page 14
I’m about to close it when I decide to have a quick look. It’s entirely possible we have some critters who made their home up there, but if that’s the case I should probably get pest control in here. I don’t mind a mouse or two, it’s par for the course living in the country, but I’m not a fan of possums and I’ve heard of colonies of bats found in attics. That’s where I draw the line.
Apparently, Lucy had been sufficiently spooked to leave the light on as well. The single bulb dangling from the low beams shines a harsh light through the now mostly empty space. There’s a small dormer with a window on either side of the rectangular space and I check both. There are no windowpanes broken and neither one budges when I try.
When I head back to the stairs, I notice one of the boxes of junk in the corner I haven’t gotten around to has toppled over, dumping part of the contents on the floor. That’s probably what she heard. It’s likely I hit the stack when I pulled that old rolled up carpet out of the attic, and gravity finally toppled it over. I hope it’ll put Lucy’s mind at ease.
Picking up the contents of mostly old newspapers and magazines, I stuff them back in the box and flick off the light as I head downstairs.
“It’s not in your mind,” I tell her when I walk into the kitchen. “One of the boxes stacked in the corner had fallen. It was still on top of the stack when I took that rug out yesterday. I must’ve knocked it, shifted that box.”
“So you’re telling me I have you to thank for barely three hours of sleep?” She glares at me, pulling back the omelet she was about to slide in front of me. “I’m having second thoughts about feeding you.”
I snatch the plate from her hand and sit down at the table, shoving a forkful in my mouth.
She waves a spatula in my direction.
“You know, you could be a bit more remorseful. Next time I might consider putting something in your food.”
I grin with my mouth full.
“You wouldn’t. You love me too much.”
She ignores me and sits down across the table, digging into her own omelet. But when five minutes later I pick up my plate and head for the sink, I hear her teasing voice behind me.
“You will never know.”
Seventeen
Alex
* * *
“Is Buster going to be okay?”
I smile at the teenage girl sitting on the fence.
“I sure hope so. He’s such a handsome boy.”
I watch as Sam—the girl’s father—leads a good-looking palomino from the stable. The horse is clearly difficult to manage, even for the sturdy rancher who quickly unclips his lead as soon as they reach the exercise ring. I asked him to just give the horse his legs for a bit so I could observe.
Buster doesn’t seem to be bothered much by his injury as he kicks out his hind quarters and takes off bucking to the far end. There he slides to a halt, his head high, nostrils flaring as his ears twitch in all directions.
The horse is definitely spooked.
“Is he usually spirited?” I ask when Sam walks over.
“Not really. I mean, he’ll blow off steam when we put him out after a long ride, but never when saddled or on a lead. Wouldn’t let Mickey handle him otherwise.”
He must be referring to his daughter, who snorts audibly.
I clap my hands a few times and watch the horse’s muscles bunch as he startles at the sound. Then he launches into a canter, his head still high as he restlessly circles the exercise ring, making sure to steer clear of the side we’re standing.
I wait until he slows down and finally stops, again on the far side, his eyes and ears now focused on us. Now that I have his attention, I hold my hands out by my hips, palms out, and slowly start moving toward him. I pay close attention to his body language. When I reach the center of the ring, I can tell he’s ready to bolt and I abruptly stop. Keeping my hands in the same position, I turn around and start walking back the other way.
I go through this exercise a few times, each time able to get a little closer. At some point he lets me get close enough to see puffs of breath coming from his nostrils. Then I start talking in a soft voice—mostly nonsense but in a soothing tone—as I inch my way even closer until I’ve pushed it about as far as he’ll let me come.
This time when I stop and turn my back, I hear him snort behind me and wait. Then I hear it, the faint thud of a hoof on the packed dirt in the ring. It’s followed by another, and when I hear a third, I start walking back toward Sam and his daughter. A quick glance over my shoulder tells me Buster follows at a safe distance, but the closer I get, the farther he falls behind, coming to a complete stop in the center of the ring.
“That was awesome!” Mickey says enthusiastically when I reach them. “That was good, right?”
“It was a hopeful start.”
I weigh my words carefully, because this is not like throwing a switch. Building trust takes time—a lot of it—and inevitably there’ll be setbacks. I convey as much to father and daughter. The girl is clearly disappointed but Sam looks pleased.
“So how long do you figure?”
“If only I had a crystal ball,” I tell him with a chuckle. “It would help if I could work with him every day.”
Sam shrugs. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
“Thing is,” I admit. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t have time to make it out here every day. Unless, of course, you stabled Buster with me. That would make it a lot easier.”
By the time I drive away from the dude ranch, I’m high-fiving myself. Sam is bringing Buster over tomorrow night.
The idea of boarding had come up before as a source of revenue for the rescue, but by combining it with my behavioral work it had the potential to grow both sides of the business while maximizing my time.
My head is full of ideas as I make my way back home and I narrowly avoid a head-on collision when I pull into my drive. I almost run into a large dump truck pulling out. I hold up my hand and mouth an apology at the guy behind the wheel, who merely shakes his head before turning onto the highway.
I’m so relieved that junk is gone. That wouldn’t have been a good look if my new client pulled up here tomorrow seeing a pile of rusted garbage.
“It’s gone!” I yell at Lucy who comes walking toward the house, the dogs at her feet.
“And so is my good mood,” she grumbles when she catches up with me.
“How’s that?”
She waves an agitated arm in the direction of the highway. “That idiot truck driver. I’m sick of misogynistic assholes. Men!” she spits before stomping up the porch steps.
By the time I say hello to Chief and Scout, and head inside, she’s already disappeared upstairs. Not sure what happened, but I know better than to try and get it out of her until she’s ready.
When she surfaces forty-five minutes later, I am just putting the finishing touches on the meal it was my turn to make. Spaghetti, meatballs, and a green salad. Quick and easy, just the way I like it.
“So how did it go at the dude ranch?” she asks as she grabs the bowl of salad off the counter and carries it to the table.
“First thing tomorrow morning, I plan to put the stable in order and give that big stall a good cleaning. We’ve got a guest coming.”
“Oh?”
I tell her about the beautiful palomino who seemed scared of his own shadow and my plans for him.
“And the owner went for it?”
“Hook, line, and sinker. After I explained I’d be able to work with the horse more effectively if I had free access to him, of course. He agreed to a weekly boarding amount and I reduced my treatment fee by the travel time and fuel. It’s a win-win for everyone.”
The first real smile of the day blooms on Lucy’s face.
“Very clever. You think it’s going to catch on?”
I pull up my shoulders. “Time will tell. Word of mouth is alive and well in these regions so as long as I do good work, I’m sure business will be picking up.”
“How are Hope and Daisy getting along?” I ask, sliding a plate in front of Lucy before sitting down myself.
“Good. I had both of them outside today. They’re not bosom buddies yet, but they were grazing close together. When I called for them when that truck showed up earlier, Daisy came trotting up right away and Hope stuck close behind her. I think Daisy will be good for boosting the mare’s confidence.”
Things are looking up all around. Aside from Sarge and Ellie—our horses—the others are all permanent guests due to age, or injury, or attitude. Hope, however, could be marketable. Doc Evans guessed her at about six years old and now that she’s looking healthier, and Lucy is making headway, she could make someone a good horse.
Lucy’s mention of the truck hasn’t escaped me so I dive in.
“What happened?”
She knows exactly what I’m referring to.
“Pretty little thing like you all alone on a ranch like this?” she mocks.
“Is that what he said?”
“First thing out of his mouth.”
Yikes. That wouldn’t have gone over well with me either, but Lucy seems really upset.
“Guy gave me the creeps. Suggested I put the dogs in the house,” she scoffs. “Like I was going to. If not for those two getting all protective of me, I’m not sure he’d have kept his distance. Then I would’ve had to pull my gun on him and that could’ve been messy.”
“We should report him to the company. As soon as the office opens tomorrow morning, I’m calling.”
“Don’t,” she says sharply. “Seriously, guys like that are a dime a dozen wherever you go. There’s really nothing to report and it would only make things uncomfortable.”
She has a point, but it doesn’t sit right with me to let it go. Maybe I’ll mention it to Jonas when he comes by tomorrow, get his take on it. It’s a pretty small world up here, maybe he even knows the guy enough to know whether that was supposed to be an innocent comment or if the man is someone to be concerned about.
“Fair enough,” I concede.
Jonas
* * *
“Are you for real?”
I almost laugh out loud at the look on Dan’s face as he holds the artificial vagina, or AV, far away from his body. It’s basically a tube with a sturdy handle, which is lined with a bladder attached to a plastic collection bottle.
I figured we’d get Blitz used to the collection process. Who knows, humping a breeding dummy—a construction on two height adjustable legs bracing a bolstered body mimicking a mare—might help him get rid of some of that fire. It also seemed a good opportunity to get the kid a little more closely involved with the stallion.
Yesterday we did a ‘dry’ run with just the dummy, but today Blitz is getting the full treatment.
Fletch, who is giving me a hand in the breeding barn, barks out a rare laugh.
“Would you wanna stick your dick in a dry pussy, kid?” he teases.
Dan glowers at him before snatching the bottle of lube from his hand. He squirts some in the sleeve he’s holding.
“Gotta do him too.” Fletch points at the horse I’m holding.
Blitz already can’t stand still, his body primed to go.
“Awww, Jesus,” the kid mumbles.
“Steady hand and don’t fumble,” I warn him. “After, you wanna get into position right away and don’t spill. This stuff is worth gold.”
I catch Fletch’s eye, who is grinning at me.
He knows whatever we manage to collect won’t count for much. Not yet anyway. But it’s fun to rattle the new guy. We’ve all had to endure the same at some point in time. Be the butt of jokes, get the dirty jobs. It’s a rite of passage. The truth is, during breeding season we collect every other day. It becomes just like any other chore that needs to get done on a ranch.
Artificial insemination has taken over a large chunk of the breeding industry. It’s easier, safer, and cheaper. Despite that, there are still some breeders out there who prefer live cover: stud services the old-fashioned way.
Dan holds up well. Despite his awkward start with the mechanics, he does have a way with the animals and I let him lead Blitz back to his stall.
“Not bad for a greenhorn,” Fletch mutters beside me as we make our way to the house for a bite of lunch.
Probably some of the highest praise anyone could get from him. Fletch was the last to join us here at the ranch. Sully finally tracked him down in Canada. He was living as a virtual recluse in the mountains near Fernie, British Columbia, and would occasionally freelance as a hunting guide to make some money. It had taken a bit of convincing to get him to come.
“Nope, and Alex was right; he does have a natural instinct with the horses.”
Fletch’s only response is a grunt.
Sully and Dad are already at the kitchen table when we walk in. They got back from Elk River well after midnight last night.
I put a hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Did you get any rest?”
“Some.”
He still looks pretty wiped, although he’d seemed a little gaunt already last week. I wonder if he’s coming down with something.
“You know what I was thinking?” I take the empty seat next to him. “We’ve been so busy you haven’t had a chance to find a new doctor here yet. Maybe Ama can set up an appointment at the medical clinic in Libby for you. Doc Sansome is a good guy. You’ll like him.”
He shoots me a glare.
“Nothing wrong with me.”
Ama gives me a little encouraging nudge as she slides a bowl of beans and a thick slab of bread in front of me.
“Shit, Dad. Nothing wrong with me either, but I still go yearly for my physical. When’s the last time you’ve been?”
It took some doing, but by the time I give Alex a call to let her know I’m on my way with Sugar, my father has conceded to see the doc.
I find her in the stable, saddling a good-looking buckskin.
“Hey,” she greets me with a smile.
I slip a hand behind her neck and pull her to me, covering her mouth with mine.
“Mmmm. I think I like your hello better,” she mumbles when I let her go. Then she leans to the side to look behind me. “Where’s your horse?”
“Left her tied to the trailer. I wasn’t sure if you were ready. Lucy sent me this way.”
She turns to her horse and rubs his muzzle.
“Ready, Sarge?”
“Sugar’s easygoing,” I let her know as we walk out. “Gets along with everyone.”
“So is this guy.”
She throws me a questioning look when I grab a rifle from the cab and slip it in the saddle holster.
“Standard gear,” I explain. “Insurance against wildlife up here.”
She produces a bear can and pats her coat pocket, where I assume she keeps her gun.
“I’ve got my own measures.”
I won’t burst her bubble and tell her the spray may slow a bear or mountain lion down, but won’t stop them, and she’d need to have perfect aim to be any more lucky with that gun. Doesn’t mean I won’t bring it up at a later time. If she plans to head into the mountains she needs to be prepared.
“Which way?” she asks when we mount up.
“North side.”
I’m most interested in checking out the area along the creek where she heard the shot. It’s been a while, but if someone was up there, I may still be able to find tracks.
The horses do well side by side, but the narrow trail heading into the trees is only wide enough for one. I slip ahead of her. If we encounter anything, I’ll be in the line of fire instead of Alex.
But we don’t get far when I hear a cell phone ring and my hand immediately goes to my pocket as I bring Sugar to a halt with my other.
“It’s mine,” Alex says behind me.
I turn in my saddle and watch as she puts her phone to her ear.
“Luce, we just left.”
I’m too far to hear Lucy’s side of the conversation and Alex seems to do all the listening. Her eyes snap up to mine and I read the regret.
“He wasn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow night. Okay. I’ll be right there. No, I should probably be there.”
“Problem?” I ask when she hangs up and stuffs her phone in her pocket.
“Minor emergency. A client showed up with his horse earlier than he was supposed to. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to turn back.”
I start turning Sugar when she stops me.
“You don’t have to come back with me. It’s not hard to find, the creek, that is. Just follow this trail. It’ll take you to the first clearing, and then maybe fifteen minutes farther along the trail you’ll hit the second, smaller, one. You’ll be able to see the ridge from there.”
I’m almost relieved but I’m not about to tell her that. If there is anyone hiding on her property, I’d rather not have to worry about Alex.
“Sure you don’t mind?” I ask to make sure. “I wouldn’t mind getting a lay of the land. Maybe see if I can find any evidence someone was up there.”
“Not at all. Maybe I can make it up to you with dinner after?”
I maneuver Sugar alongside Sarge and lean over to press a hard kiss on her lips.
“I’ll bring my appetite.”
Despite heading out on my own, the ride is nice. Crisp mountain air, clear skies overhead, and pretty views. Prettier still when I get to the first clearing next to the creek. I notice the water is pretty high and running fast and I’m thinking this would be a great spot to bring a couple of fly rods and a cooler of beer, and spend the day.
But I’m not here to admire the scenery. I cluck and press my heels into Sugar’s flanks, guiding her to the trail that picks up ahead.
The second clearing Alex mentioned is not that far. As a precaution, I stop my horse at the edge of the tree line and scan the ridge rising up on the other side, where the cover is not quite as thick. The first thing I notice is that what was a narrow trail coming up here, looks to suddenly change into a clear two-wheel track heading farther up the mountain.
