There was nothing to fear then. Bede made himself focus on the sounds. The pattern they made. The way the coyotes wails rose and fell.
Were they singing to the moon? No, because there was no moon. Only a carpet of stars beyond the branches of the tall trees that were standing sentinel around the green canvas tent.
Chapter 9
Galen
In the morning, a tad bleary-eyed, Galen shuffled through showering and shaving, reveling in the hot water, then got dressed, and trotted to the mess tent.
There, he found himself at the end of the line for the buffet. He wasn’t worried about the food running out, just about having enough time to eat before he needed to round up his team for work. Put on his boss-man hat. Be in charge.
He had the training, sure, and he could do the job. But it’d just be easier if his team would all up and decide they wanted to do their parole elsewhere. Or maybe it was too late in the game for such doubts.
Then, just as he got up to the buffet and grabbed a tray, a plate, and some cutlery, he saw Bede sitting at the end of one of the long tables.
To Bede’s right was Kell, chatting like mad to a silent and watchful Marston, who was sitting on the other side of Kell. Bede and Marston were two bookends, protecting Kell, like he was in any danger at all. Which he was not.
It was as if Bede was by himself in a sea of people. A very small sea, to be sure, but he was all alone. Eating a tidy pileof pancakes, sipping on black coffee, spearing his sausage patty with a severely aimed fork.
Both Toby and Owen, trays in hand, went to the table where Bede was and sat across from him. Bede’s brow lowered, as if he’d suddenly developed a severe headache.
Galen might as well get it over and join his team. And no, he wasn’t saving Bede from having to converse with the less-than-dynamic duo. It wasn’t about Bede at all. Galen was just doing his job, so as soon as he got his breakfast, he went and sat down across from Bede, too.
A good night’s sleep had done Bede a world of good, which must be what was keeping Galen focused on him. That fact and not the sleekness of the skin along Bede’s neck where it disappeared beneath the trim collar of his snap-button shirt. Or where he’d rolled up his sleeves yet again, and was just now balancing his elbow on the table as he took a sip of black coffee.
Bede looked at Galen, not smiling, eyes half lidded as if assaying Galen’s presence, but he didn’t want to be seen doing it.
Then, after a pause, Bede asked, “What’s on the agenda today, boss?”
Boss. This was the name Galen had heard all the ex-cons called their team leads, in spite of those same team leads askingPlease, please, just call me by my name.
Something had been engrained in the ex-cons’ heads, so they continued doing it. Galen was just going to have to put up with it or cause a severe and probably unsuccessful fuss.
“First,” said Galen, after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of very good pancake. “We’re going to do some recon and tag all the knapweed in the area.”
“Knapweed?” asked Toby.
“Recon?” asked Owen.
“Knapweed is an invasive plant,” said Galen, taking a sip of his coffee, pretending he didn’t hear Bede snicker into hispancakes, because he wanted to encourage questions from his team. And, also, he didn’t know what to do with the fact that Bede’s snicker made him want to smile. “It’s poisonous to other plants and creates barren areas where only knapweed grows.”
The members of his team looked at him like he was speaking Urdu. Except for Bede, who looked mildly interested.
“Recon is short for reconnaissance,” he added. “It means we’re going to take a look around and see what we can see.” He took a look at Toby and Owen’s faces and sensed a little disappointment there.
“We’ll work with the horses more, once that’s done,” Galen said. “Care, feeding, riding lessons, all of it.”
He took a sip of his coffee and let this sink in.
“You’ll need to have real cowboy boots and hats for the riding lessons, but we’ll be getting those later this week,” said Galen.
Toby and Owen did not seem enticed by this at all, but Bede chuckled and asked, “More boots? I’m going to need a boot rack at this rate.”
Galen snorted in spite of himself at the image of fancy downtown shoes and boots in racks inside each tent. Why Bede made him laugh was still a mystery, but the last thing he needed to do was to encourage it.
“Leland wants every man to have the tools he needs,” Galen said, studiously keeping his attention on his meal, desperately focusing on that and not the fact that Bede’s bright smile, that flash in Bede’s eyes, made him feel buoyed up, like everything was going to turn out just fine.
When breakfast was over, Galen assembled his team in front of the supply hut. It was a hot morning and looking to get hotter. There was no wind, and there were no clouds hovering over the treetops.
