What Leland wanted to do was call for volunteers for some special task, see Jamie’s raised hand and pick him out of the crowd. Then the two of them could head on out to the far parts of the ranch to check fence lines, or look for wolf scat, or wander through green meadows holding hands. He wanted it, wanted it so badly he could taste it, but it was bitter now, when the night before had been sweet.
Jamie came over to Leland as the meeting ended, wending his way through ranch hands and wranglers to get to him. And when he arrived, Leland stood there, and let Jamie look at him as he searched for the words to say to end it between them, searched for the right words to get the job done properly this time.
“Jamie,” he said.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, his concern all for Leland. “You look funny. You sound funny.”
Leland pulled Jamie to one side until they stood in the shadow of the barn. Everyone else was starting on their morning tasks, and it was nothing to them if Leland was speaking to one of his employees. Except this was a conversation he never wanted to have. “Last night—”
“I had such a good time, Leland,” he said, and there were stars in his eyes as he looked at Leland.
“We can’t—” Leland stopped and swallowed hard. “What happened last night can’t happen again. I’m your boss. I’m the responsible party here, this was my fault. All of it.”
“But don’t you—I thought you liked me.” Now, where once there had been green stars were dark hollows, his mouth down-turned, as though Leland had just smacked him.
“I do like you,” Leland said, and if his heart felt like he’d just torn it in two with his own bare hands, that was his burden to bear, not Jamie’s. “But I’m your boss and it’s not right for me to sleep with staff—”
“But you didn’t sleep withstaff,” Jamie said, almost spitting the word. “You slept withme.”
“You are staff, Jamie,” Leland said. He pressed his hat firmly on his head and wished there was a better way to do this, knowing all the while that if he’d done the right thing to begin with, he wouldn’t have had to come up with a better way. “And I am staff. This is the way it has to be. I take full responsibility for it happening in the first place, and I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
Jamie’s hands became fists. In another life, another place, he might have lashed out at Leland, and Leland wouldn’t have blamed him, nor would he have defended himself. He would have stood there and taken it. There was so much hurt vibrating through Jamie, but he didn’t move, as though pinned to the spot by his sorrow, his anger.
But just as Leland opened his mouth to continue, to say something else that he hoped would make a difference, Quint came to the open barn door. His eyes cast over Leland as though his boss was a problem that needed solving, and he gestured to Jamie.
“Jamie, come here,” he said. “I need you to help clear the pallets for the hay delivery tomorrow.”
With a look at Leland, sharp with dark daggers, laced with broken dreams, Jamie walked off, half tripping, half racing, to get away from him.
Yes, he wanted him to get away and stay away. It would be up to Leland to make sure there were no more outings, no more special chores. No more welcoming him to ride double, clinging to Leland’s waist, his arms around him familiar and new all at once.
Each time. Each time had been special, and he had treasured them as they were happening. He would treasure them now as he moved on and hoped the pain of them would keep him smart. Keep him from reaching out to Jamie ever again.
The day dragged. Usually Wednesdays were the best days, as guests settled into a routine of activity, relaxed and happy that they had selected a guest ranch as their vacation, enjoying the low-key lifestyle, the abundance of food, the fresh air, and the stillness in the evenings.
As he took care of tasks delegated to the foreman, he nodded and smiled, as he usually did. Stopped to answer questions and sign bills of lading. He met with Bill in his office, and while they talked over the ex-con program and joked about Jasper’s reticence for the program, his heart was sore, and he felt sick to his stomach.
Usually he could make hard decisions with ease, but not this time. This time he was mired in his own confusion.
Of course he had done the right thing, but had he done it for the right reasons? Had he done it because it was better for Jamie? Or had he done it because he was afraid—of getting close, of staying close—in a relationship that would make his life complicated?
He liked things simple and straightforward, and yet, there he’d gone plowing through all the straight furrows of his life, the orderliness of them, to try something new, leaving himself scattered and confused. Worst of all, he’d hurt a young man in the process, who didn’t deserve to be hurt.
He threw himself into his work. He went down to Jasper’s cabin to help him set up his brand new yet old-fashioned looking leather bellows, sweating and swearing under his breath as they hooked it up to his exacting specifications. He ordered special canvas aprons for Levi and his assistants for the next trail ride that involved the chuck wagon, which, as it was next week, had to be put on special order and followed up by a phone call. He saddled up a horse and went on the lunchtime trail ride with Brody and a dozen guests.
Later he talked with Quint about his ideas for a more rugged trail ride for those more advanced riders. Quint wanted a ride that went into the hills, far enough so that you’d have to bring your own water, and make very small campfires. He was sure some guests would love it, but as Leland saw the ranch as a place to relax and not a high-adrenaline adventure sort of place, they agreed to disagree for now.
Then, in the evening, he rode again, saddling up Diablo, a tough horse with a mind of his own. Diablo was for advanced riders only, and Leland took him for a nice long spell, out to the far reaches of the ranch where the hills turned into rocks and the wind blew a bit sharp and cold.
He was gentle with the horse, coaxing him to be obedient, but he wasn’t gentle with himself, riding until his thighs felt raw and his skin had been blasted by wind and sun. Self punishment wasn’t his thing, and neither was avoidance, but he’d avoided Jamie that day, avoided thinking about him, just about as hard as he’d avoided having any feelings at all. It was easier that way. Just easier.
But naturally, as he rode Diablo down the main road to the barn, both of them sweating, his throat dry as a desert, there Jamie was by the corral, finishing up clearing the sand of manure and hay. He paused, both of his hands on the sturdy rake. In his eyes, the hurt Leland had caused blazed, turning him back into a drifter once more. His hair beneath his straw hat was messy, his t-shirt sweat stained. Arms sunburned.
Why hadn’t Jamie worn one of his long-sleeved shirts to protect himself? Had he taken breaks? What was he doing out there, anyhow? It was halfway through the dinner hour. He needed to eat. To keep that good muscle now beginning to show on his bones. To take care of himself.
Why wasn’t anyone looking out for him? Well, Leland knew the answer to that. It was because he was the person, self-appointed, who had started looking out for him. He needed to do that at least, so as he walked Diablo past the corral, he slowed the horse.
“Jamie, go clean up and get some dinner,” he said. “You’re done working for the day.”
