Gabe looked up at the pine trees, a brilliant green against the blue in the bright sunshine. His heart was racing and, in the clearing between the trees, he stood totally alone. Wayne was probably snoozing in his tent, and as for Blaze—
He pulled out his cellphone and walked toward his own tent, going past it to stand on the slope beside the no-name dirt road, looking at the display to see how many bars he had. Three. It was enough.
“Hey, Jasper,” he said when Jasper picked up, and he was grateful for Jasper in more ways than one, though he was kicking himself because he couldn’t figure this out without help.
“What’s up?” asked Jasper, and it sounded as though, in the background, Ellis was there, asking questions about dinner, and whether there was enough ice cream.
“I fucked up,” he said.
“How so?” asked Jasper.
“It’s Blaze and me—” He paused to take a deep breath. “It was going good. Seemed like it would keep on doing that, only his mom called him and wants him to come home—his brother got arrested, and the way he told it, his mom thinks Blaze is the only one who can get the brother out of trouble.”
Gabe paused again, wondering how someone he’d never met and was never likely to, who Blaze didn’t even seem to care for at all, could wreak such havoc.
“Now he thinks he’s bad news, and I shouldn’t want to be around him. I had to let him walk off, but it killed me. He acted like he was going to leave the valley.”
Gabe needed advice and needed it badly. Jasper had been through this, a relationship with someone whom society might not approve of, who had a grotty background. But Jasper, his own man in so many ways, probably never gave a rat’s ass about what society thought. He only cared about what he wanted and what Ellis wanted.
“C’mon, talk to me.” Gabe held the cellphone with both hands, turning away from the sun so he could duck his chin in his own shadow.
After a moment of silence, he could hear the change, the level of noise behind Jasper rising. As though Jasper had stepped outside, amidst the wind and the group of trees around his stone cabin.
“Here’s the thing,” said Jasper. “You’re kind of going about this like this guy is a criminal and needs to be handled that way. But he’s done his time, so—”
“He is innocent,” said Gabe, cutting into whatever Jasper had to say. “He said that from the beginning, and I didn’t quite believe him. Maybe I acted like I didn’t believe him even though I could see, day by day, through everything he did and said—he’s as innocent as the day he was born.”
Gabe waited, feeling like he could feel Jasper thinking at the other end of the line.
“Someone who went through being in prison,” said Jasper, slowly. “It’s like a horse that’s been abused. Horses can be violent or out of control, but not a one of them deserves to be lashed to a hitching post so tight they can’t move.”
Nodding, Gabe knew what Jasper was getting at. In the old days, to break a horse, you punished it, you whipped it, you made it impossible for the horse to move until they submitted to your will.
It was a bad way to tame a horse, a horrible, cruel way, as it only made the horse angry and miserable, in spite of its seeming docility and obedience. One wrong move, a twitch, some days, and the horse would lash out, tearing at whoever was closest.
“So if you get a horse that’s been through that, some days, hell, sometimes every day, you have to go back to square one. Like you just got the horse from someone who broke him that cruelly. In your case, with Blaze, tell him the truth. Treat him gentle, the way he deserves it, even if he doesn’t know it yet. Bare your soul. That’s the only way he’ll know that you mean it.”
“Go big or go home,” said Gabe, half to himself, half to Jasper.
“That’s it right there.” With a low huff, maybe a half-laugh, Jasper said. “Spill your guts to him. Tell him how you feel and make it stick. Tell him your dreams. Your hopes. Get him to tell you his. Most importantly, ask him to stay. Otherwise, you’re going to have to watch him walk away forever. You want that?”
“No.”
“Exactly. Now, I got to get some dinner on or Ellis will starve.”
Gabe laughed, his heart lightening a little bit.
“And we still need to shoe the rest of those horses, so call me tomorrow and we’ll set a schedule. Okay?”
“Okay,” said Gabe. “And thank you. I’m going to try. I don’t know how, but I’m going to try.”
“Good man,” said Jasper. Then he hung up.
Which left Gabe standing there, his silent cellphone in his hands, the wind across the grasses on the slope, the sun a hard yellow circle in the sky.
He wasn’t a grand gesture kind of guy, though he did believe that actions spoke louder than words ever could. Somehow, maybe, he’d given Blaze the idea that he couldn’t come to Gabe just to rant or complain about things. Or that his family was a stain burned into his skin, a dark tattoo for everyone to see and judge him by.
If Gabe had sent out silent signals, even without knowing it, and if Blaze had interpreted those signals as judgment, then Gabe was going to fix it and make sure Blaze knew what was really in his heart.
