On Friday, just before dinner, he got a text from Maddy Greenway, the guest ranch’s admin, who needed him to come up to her office to sign some paperwork. Letting his team know they would stop work early, he drove the valley’s one truck up the hill to the ranch and stopped by her office just before five o’clock.
“Here you go,” said Maddy. She held out a clipboard. “Sign this, which will make sure your team gets paid. And Leland’s been trying to reach you, but the cellphone call wasn’t going through. Where was your two-way radio?”
“I’d taken it off when I was showering, then didn’t put it on because I was coming up here,” he said. “What’s up?”
“He wanted to remind you that the horses from Blue Grass Ranch are ready to be picked up.”
“I’m ready,” he said to her, pleasure at the prospect of working with horses again rushing through him. “Just let me know the day.”
“Next Monday,” she said, smiling in response to his joy. “Get one of your team to drive you up there. Then, Quint and Brody will help you drive the horses from Blue Grass to the valley, and could you check that the strand fence is in place?” She shook her head. “And it would be helpful in future if you had your two-way on you during the day.”
“I will, Maddy,” he said. “Thank you for passing along Leland’s messages.”
He knew that around twenty horses were due to be transferred. They’d have to take them down the road in a herd, as there were too many, and it would take too long to gather up enough horse trailers and drivers to move them that way. Which was fine by Gabe, as he’d not ridden since he’d started working the parolee program.
“Heard you lost a man this week,” she said, taking the clipboard back from him. “It’s a shame that you’re down by one, but, according to Leland, that guy was a piece of work. But anyway, you still have three to help you take care of the horses once they arrive.”
In the back of his mind, he was glad and didn’t have anything to complain about, having only three men to help out. Still, he’d come to the ranch originally to be a ranch hand, to work with horses, taking care of them, going on trail rides. He missed the smell of horse, the soft silky plush of their noses, their ridiculously long eyelashes, their trusting calmness. He wondered if the men on his team would feel the same way about horses as he did.
“When can I bring my team to get cowboy hats and boots?” he asked her. “I think they’ll enjoy the outing, plus it’ll be good for the ranch,” he said, filling in the rest of the sentence with the phrase he’d heard from Leland more than once. “And could you update your records to state that Blaze, I mean, Orlando, wears a size 11 boot?”
“But of course,” she said. “I’ll be happy to size them. How about Saturday afternoon? That’s when things get slow.”
Gabe knew the first counseling session was Saturday afternoon as well, but he figured they might cut it short in favor of the new gear. “Two o’clock?” he asked her.
“I’ll be here.”
He left her then, pausing on the front porch of her office to smile as wide as he wanted without anyone thinking he’d gone crazy. He’d missed working with horses, but had not realized until that moment how much.
Chapter13
Blaze
Blaze’s first group counseling session on Saturday, right after lunch, wasn’t just a drag, it was boring. And lame, especially when it was just the four of them: Tom, Wayne, himself, and the counselor, a weedy looking young man with overly large glasses and a too-tight t-shirt in city-modern gray, who wanted them each to talk in turn. About their problems, about the issues they faced that week, about their goals.
Blaze didn’t invest any energy in the counseling session because none of it was going to make any difference to Blaze, anyway. Once he was finished with his parole, he had zero places to go, and no family to welcome him with open arms, and this despite of the counselor’s insistence that the road was rocky but that there were rewards at the end.
But he made himself sit still, made himself look like he was invested and paying attention, that he gave a damn, even when he didn’t. He also allowed himself to linger over the quick little memory of Gabe wrapping his arm before Blaze had taken his shower on Friday night. And then, after, checking the bandage to make sure it was dry and secure. It was that kind of little nicety, so rare in his life up to that point, that was helping to keep him focused on his goal of giving this whole thing a chance.
The counselor, whose name might have been Brett or Bud or something, rewarded them each with a smile as he told them that he appreciated their participation, that he’d see them the following Saturday, and that if they needed him mid-week, they were always welcome to reach out to him. Then Brett or Bud handed each of them a business card.
Blaze stood up and stuck the card in his back jeans pocket, and walked toward the mess tent because, frankly, Blaze’s only reward was the fact that Gabe was waiting for them outside the mess tent.
Gabe was nodding at the counselor with what looked like tons of fake patience. The counselor nodded back and smiled before hefting his backpack over his shoulder and striding off to his city car.
The entire counseling session was wiped clean by the picture Gabe presented. He was wearing cowboy boots and a straw cowboy hat, a smile tracing his lips as he gestured for the three parolees to come close.
“We have a treat for you today,” he said. “I’m going to drive you to the ranch’s store, and Maddy, our admin, is going to measure you for new cowboy hats.” He looked at Blaze, and his smile seemed extra warm. “And cowboy boots, just to make sure of the fit. Let’s go.”
At the truck, Tom got in front, but then his legs were long and besides, it gave Blaze a chance to just sit in the back and say nothing, with Gabe’s profile right in his view line.
Gabe drove them up the hill along the switchback road, through the pines and up over the top of the grassy hill, breezes waving through the tall prairie grasses, past the new wood cabin sitting in the middle of nowhere, and finally to the large, round gravel parking lot of the guest ranch. Gabe parked in front of what looked like a kind of store, turned off the engine, and looked at them each in turn.
“This is the guest ranch’s store, where we’re going to measure you for hats and boots.” Gabe paused, his eyes serious. “Part of the parole program is to help you integrate back into society, but I guess you know that and don’t need me telling you to behave.”
Blaze knew how to behave, knew how to fit in, but as he piled out of the truck and followed Tom and Wayne into the store, with Gabe leading the way, he felt a rush of excitement in spite of himself.
He’d not been in a store in almost two years, and while he didn’t have a credit card in his wallet so he could slap it on the glass counter, maybe he could wrangle a candy bar or even some gum, just to feel the small thrill of purchasing something, something of his own. He’d have to share, wouldn’t he, so maybe he could talk Gabe into allowing each of them to get a little something so they wouldn’t have to share.
