“What cabin?” asked Clay from the front of the group.
“You remember, the one Bill had built,” said Leland.
“It’s where the old surveyor’s cabin used to be,” said Maddy. She took the clipboard from Leland and gave him a look that clearly indicated she felt better with it in her own hands. “We tore it down a few seasons ago, so some of you newer folks might not know about it.”
“Who wants to help me paint today?” asked Leland again as he looked out over the crowd. Into the bit of silence that fell rose murmurs and small questions, and then Leland looked right at Jamie and nodded his head, as though actually pointing to him.
“Me,” said Jamie, raising his hand so hard and fast that something in his shoulder felt like it popped.
When Leland pointed at him, and dismissed everyone else, Jamie knew a little bit of his wish from the day before was going to come true, even if only for a little while. He and Leland would spend time together and, if a month ago someone had told him he’d be glad to be working with the boss for a whole day, he would have laughed out loud. And now here he was.
He kept himself busy helping in the barn until Leland was free from guests coming up to him and ranch hands asking him questions. Finally, Leland gestured to Jamie, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat, his smile wide and welcoming, and Jamie went to him readily.
“Change into your oldest jeans,” Leland said. “Wear a t-shirt you don’t mind ruining because paint gets everywhere, even if you’re careful.”
“Okay,” Jamie said and ran to his room to change, hurrying back to the barn so fast he was out of breath.
And there Leland was, waiting in the shade, dressed in old jeans and a threadbare white t-shirt that sculpted close to his back and his shoulders, so thin in places Jamie could almost see through it. Leland’s jeans hung on his hips, and the elastic on his briefs were just visible.
In that moment, Jamie stood there with his mouth open. This was more than a wish coming true, it was a bit like a fantasy. But he shook himself because it was one thing to have the dream of spending time with Leland come true. It was another thing altogether to imagine it could come to anything more than that.
They walked to the supply shed and loaded an older truck with cans of paint, brushes, paint cloths and the like.
“You ever paint before?” Leland asked him as he grabbed a cooler Jamieknewwas full of stuff for lunch and for breaks and put it on top of the paint cans.
“Yes,” Jamie said, getting in the passenger side of the truck, inhaling the smell of old plastic and years of dust. “Just one time painting a house on a job I got through a temp agency in Denver.” The painting job hadn’t been as bad as the meat packing plant, but it had been pretty rugged, as they’d sent him up a tall rickety ladder and told him he couldn’t come down until he’d finished the side of the house.
Leland drove the truck down the dirt road that went through the middle of the ranch and then through the parking lot and up a narrow dirt road that went up a hill. Beyond the hill was another low rise, and as the road curved around, ahead of them was a wooden cabin. It wasn’t a log cabin, but one built of new boards, with simple lines and little square windows with shutters on the outside, framing each one. The roof looked sturdy, and as they drove up, the cabin seemed to watch them, waiting for what they might do.
“This is in the middle of nowhere,” Jamie said as Leland parked the truck and they got out. “Why would someone build a cabin in the middle of nowhere?”
“I’ll tell you,” said Leland. “Help me unload; we’ll arrange the equipment and then start.”
They laid an old, paint-splattered canvas tarp on the grass, and lined up the brushes and cans of paint. Leland easily opened two cans with the metal bar, stirring each one with a thin wooden stick from the paint store. The smell of turpentine rose into the air.
“It’s brown,” Jamie said, looking at the color of the paint, wondering why it was so plain.
“Actually, it’s a stain,” said Leland. He handed Jamie a new brush, a can of paint, and a new, rough cotton cloth, which he stuffed into Jamie’s waistband. “And here’s the story.”
They started painting the south side of the cabin before it got too warm, their paint brushes going in sync as they started applying stain beneath the eaves.
Leland told Jamie the story of John Henton, an ex-soldier who’d come out after the Indian Wars to look after the surveyor’s cabin. How rough the winter had been, how he’d come out on his own, wounded. How a local Native American woman from the Arapaho tribe helped him get better. And how John and his companion survived the winter together before moving down to Trinidad. And how Bill had decided to re-create the cabin on the spot where it had once stood.
“How do you know all of this?” Jamie asked, laying down a swath of stain with a broad stroke.
“It’s Maddy, really,” said Leland. He stopped to get some waters and handed one to Jamie, and together they stood in the narrow shade and drank that water. All the while, Jamie watched Leland swallow and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and had to look away. “She’s the history buff. All those pictures in her office? They’re of the cabin and of John. All the stuff in those glass cases? That’s from the junk she grabbed from around the foundation when they tore it down. She’s got stuff from Farthing, too, when the town was first getting started. That woman loves history.”
“Who was the companion?” Jamie asked, thinking about two men living in the wilderness like that, and how it would be if Leland and he shared the winter in such a small space, just the two of them sharing a bed.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Leland. “Maddy would know, for sure.” He made a gesture as though he was trying to get Maddy to let him finish telling the story. “She once told me John was lonely, then this other guy shows up, and he’s not lonely anymore.”
“Were they—were they close?” Jamie asked, feeling quite bold and daring, enjoying Leland’s expression when he asked it. His eyebrows went up and a sort of sweet reflection danced in his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe they were. Maddy would know.”
He smiled and Jamie smiled back and for a moment, there was an idea between them. There were no words in this idea, just an idea of an idea, and he was glad to share it with Leland. Then they got busy painting.
The cabin was small, but they used up a lot of stain before they took a break for lunch. They sat in the shade of the cabin, on the flat patch of grass to the north, and ate their sandwiches, and had cookies and soda, joy rising inside of Jamie the whole while.
