Cal unrolled the sleeping mats inside the tent, then unrolled the two sleeping bags and yes, he faced the zipper sides toward each other, just like he had the last time, because that’s how it was done, wasn’t it?
He left a space at the bottom of the tent for their boots and clothes, made sure that the saddles and blankets were covered with a tarp where they rested on the top rung of the metal fence, then he went to help Zeke check over the mustangs.
That is, Zeke checked them over while Cal watched in admiration as Zeke moved among the wild horses as though he’d known them always, his gloved hands at his sides, his straw cowboy hat casting his face in shade. When he came alongside the fence line, he used his cell phone to make a quick call to the team at the other end of the blocked road.
“We’re all good here,” Zeke said. “The mustangs look good. Gabe says you might make it through by noon tomorrow? That’s fast.” Zeke listened a moment, smiling at Cal as he nodded. “We’ll keep an eye out.”
Zeke clicked the call closed, then gestured to the slope of hill on the far side of the river.
“Bear have spotted along the road where the slide is and on the far side of the valley,” he said to Cal. “I’ll need to keep the rifle where I can reach it.”
Coming out from the pasture, Zeke slid his cell phone into his breast pocket, took off his gloves, and tucked them into his belt.
“We have to purify river water before we can use it for cooking,” said Zeke.
Zeke took Cal to the river and showed him out to use the silicone water bag to collect water, then the tablets to purify the water. “We need to wait about half an hour or so, then the water will be ready to use.”
While they waited for the water to be purified, they walked the perimeter of their camp, with Zeke carrying the rifle over his shoulder, both of them on the lookout for bears or other wildlife. But the valley was quiet, and none of the horses seemed the least bit concerned.
“That’s a good sign,” said Zeke. “We’ll do another walk as it gets dark. Let’s set up our camp, make it cozy.”
Zeke led the way, a safe distance between the tent and temporary fence, and bent to build a small fire, while Cal set up the small propane burner. They pulled out the food they’d packed, which included fresh brownies from the valley’s kitchen, as well as several packets of freeze-dried meals.
“Beef stew with potatoes?” asked Zeke. “Or would you rather Sante Fe rice with beans and chicken?” He looked at the pile and said, “I think there’s also granola with blueberries, almonds, and milk for breakfast. Enough for two dinners, two breakfasts, and two lunches.”
Cal would have eaten tree bark if he could stay in Aungaupi Valley with Zeke forever. He’d never known anything so peaceful, or maybe it was simply being there with Zeke thatmade him feel like he was falling in love with everything. With the mustangs. With the wild beauty of the valley. With Zeke.
But he had to be sensible, so he pointed at the packet of freeze-dried beef stew.
When the water was ready, Zeke prepared the stew. First, he boiled the water they had purified in their only pot and, when it was ready, he poured the packet of freeze-dried stew into the pot. After stirring it around, he covered the pot with the lid and turned off the burner.
“We’ll let it sit for ten minutes,” Zeke said.
It was in that ten minutes, as Cal hunkered in front of the small wood fire that Zeke had built, that he realized how hungry he was. They’d eaten a bit of beef jerky along the trail after a quick breakfast of crackers and cheese, so now his stomach rumbled and complained.
“Hang in there,” said Zeke as he lifted the lid to give the stew a stir. “Drink some water, that’ll help.”
He looked over at Cal and smiled, and everything about him was easy and relaxed. He seemed happier than Cal had ever seen him.
It was as if the wild openness of the valley had unlocked something inside of him. As if the valley was where he was meant to make his home. Which was foolish. Though Zeke was smart enough to make his living anywhere, there was not enough in the valley to sustain him for long.
“You like it up here,” said Cal, speaking his thoughts out loud because the valley knew how to keep his secrets.
“I do,” said Zeke. He seemed to consider Cal’s words as he sat on a rock and rubbed his left thigh, his gaze drifting over the mustangs and the long green grasses waving in the constant breeze. “Guess I didn’t know how much I needed to get away from Farthingdale Valley until we left.”
“Did you feel trapped there?” asked Cal as he watched Zeke lift the lid to give the stew a stir it almost certainly did not need. The freeze-dried stew needed to sit. Cal had read that on the packet himself.
“Maybe a little, even as nice as Farthingdale Valley is,” said Zeke. He shook his head, then took off his cowboy hat to card his fingers through his hair. “After the bronc fell on me, I knew I needed to make a change, only I wasn’t sure how.” He paused and then smiled at Cal. “I think the bronc made a decision for me that I didn’t know I needed to make.”
After they ate, and while the shadows in the valley grew long, they cleaned up, washing the pan and dishes and cutlery in the river, just on the other side of the smart fence, where wild mustangs came up in a group to watch them with wide and curious eyes.
When they took everything back to their tent, Cal noticed Zeke was limping, a shadow of a limp, really, and that he was wincing.
“You okay?” asked Cal. “Is it your leg again?”
“Yeah.” Zeke looked like he didn’t want to admit that he wasn’t okay. “I haven’t ridden for that long in quite a while. Guess the body can’t take it like it used to. But I’m good. Maybe I’ll soak it later.”
Cal looked around and realized there wasn’t any place other than the river to soak it. He half-shivered at the thought of having to immerse his body in water that cold.
