“This is when we should have started,” said Gabe. “Roasting, I mean. When you stick a marshmallow into high flames, it’s going to burn. Next time we should be more patient and wait for coals. Coals make the best heat for melting things.”
Blaze leaned forward, belly full, and poked at the coals with the end of his sticky-ended stick until he was able to get a rise out of the logs to produce a scattering of blue sparks. The jewels inside of the dark heat of the fire were like a promise of more hidden beneath, if only he was patient enough to keep searching for them.
Chapter12
Gabe
The next morning, Gabe was in the mess tent, ready to sit down to eat, when Blaze showed up, wearing just a t-shirt and scratching under his bicep. Absentmindedly, like he didn’t know he was scratching the scab from the wood chipper wound.
“Hey,” said Gabe, going over to him. “You’re bleeding.”
Blaze froze, his fingers curled around the underside of his bicep. On his face was an expression Gabe couldn’t quite identify, but that brought to mind, once again, the idea that Blaze was still trying to figure out how he’d gotten where he was. As if being an ex-con in a parolee rehab work camp was, each and every day, still a shock to him, and he was trying to figure out how to navigate his world.
Gabe’s heart went out to him. Of course, if you did the crime, you did the time. He believed that, he really did. But maybe some guys, like Blaze, had made one tiny mistake, only to be overwhelmed with what must feel like out-of-scale consequences. Either way, if Blaze needed a little extra care in tending to the aftereffects of a near-miss at the wood chipper that was absolutely not his fault, then Gabe was fully prepared to step up to the task.
“Uh,” said Blaze. He dropped his arms, stepping to one side as the others piled into the mess tent. “I wrapped it in a bandana, but that fell off.”
“I should have helped you,” said Gabe. “As for now, let’s get you cleaned up.”
He took Blaze to the first aid hut, cleaned the wound, and put a new bandage around it. All the while, Blaze watched him in utter silence, as though Gabe was a puzzle he wanted to solve. The silence was a bit different for Blaze, but it was nice, as well, to exchange quiet smiles as Gabe patted the first aid tape on Blaze’s bicep.
“There’s plastic wrap in the kitchen,” said Gabe. “You should always put it on when you take a shower, then your bandage won’t fall off.” With a small shrug that he hoped was disarming, he said. “Or I could wrap it for you. Come to me any time.”
If that sounded like a come-on, maybe it was only to Gabe’s ears. He needed to play it cool, only it seemed to be getting harder way too fast.
“Come on,” he said as he threw away the used first aid supplies, and reached to switch off the light. “Let’s get some breakfast.”
Breakfast was a quiet affair, after which Gabe threw himself into his work, ignoring his own personal feelings and thoughts for the benefit of his team.
For the next two days, Gabe had his team cutting brush and undergrowth in the mornings. In the afternoons, they pulled out the chainsaws to cut through logs for the fire, and branches for kindling.
They worked together on each task as a team, with Gabe on the chipper, Tom on the chainsaw, and Blaze and Wayne dragging branches to the chipper and helping to feed them in. It was more efficient that way, rather than splitting up and, besides, it seemed each man stepped up to his assigned task with shoulders set, a growing sense of responsibility radiating from him.
Even Wayne, always somewhat distant and off in his own mind, volunteered when, on Thursday, Gabe asked for help driving a truck full of wood chips to be dumped.
“Sure, boss,” he said. “I can drive that truck up to the ranch to dump those chips. I ain’t gonna run cause this is the best parole I’ve ever had.”
Gabe sat in the passenger seat that first time to show Wayne the way, to caution him as to where he needed to go extra slow, to watch out for guests at the ranch. Wayne was turning out to be rather dependable, which pleased Gabe even though he’d had very little to do with it.
They had driven up to the ranch at the end of the day, that first time, when Gabe felt most guests would be in the main lodge having dinner. They were met by Quint, the ranch’s trail boss, behind the barn at the supply hut, where the chips were being collected, to be used for ground cover around trees, around the ranch’s fire pit, or whenever they might be needed.
Gabe introduced Wayne to Quint, who gravely shook Wayne’s hand. It was easy to see that Quint trusted Wayne about as far as he could throw him, and maybe not even that far. That was fine, because Gabe was in charge of Wayne and not Quint. Gabe could see the value of a man like Wayne, who could work on his own with minimal direction, even if Quint couldn’t.
Quint pulled a few extra ranch hands to help speed the process of unloading the wood chips so Gabe and Wayne could get back to the valley where their own dinners were waiting.
Tom was on the landline even before the dessert was served, talking to Joanna in that same animated way, his eyes bright, that smile broad. As he sat at the table for his apple pie, he announced, once again, that she and the baby would be there on Sunday, ten o’clock sharp.
“What’s the baby’s name?” Gabe had asked.
“Barbara Lynn,” said Tom, beaming.
At the far end of the table, Blaze was a little quiet as he tucked into his apple pie, sweat on the back of his neck, his hair in his eyes.
“Everything all right, Blaze?” Gabe asked. Yes, it was appropriate that he keep his personal thoughts to himself, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t reach out and check in with one of his men, did it?
“Everything’s all right,” said Blaze, but his voice rose as if to make it a question, which Gabe took to mean that Blaze wanted to make sure he’d not done anything to get himself in trouble, and if it wasn’t anything to do with that, then he didn’t want to have that particular conversation.
Which was Blaze’s right, of course. You couldn’t make a man confide in you, though, in Gabe’s mind, Blaze had already done that. Laid his history at Gabe’s feet. Not with a heart full of trust, but with a soul full of pain.
