I finish up my own meal and am slipping on my hat when I spot Remi come through the dining room door. The youngest Darling brother sees me, a smile jumping to his face as he signs a quick,‘Hey, you’re back.’
‘I am,’I sign in return, the motions feeling rusty considering my past few years of minimal ASL use.‘Good to see you.’
Remi returns the sentiment, grabbing a biscuit off the table and sidestepping a few of the ranchers as he sends me an off-balance,‘Catch you soon.’
I nod, heading with the remaining ranchers out onto the back deck. Everyone is setting off toward their objectives for the morning, the sun casting only the barest hint of light over the horizon. A haze is blanketing the land, dew from last night still hanging on the grass, moisture visible even in the air. The clouds overhead are tinged pink, like cotton candy, and the dairy cows call their morning hellos, picking themselves up off the ground to head toward the big red milking barn.
This is ranch life. The beautiful. The nitty gritty. The earthy welcome of it all.
Boots thump gently on the deck boards, Jackson coming to stand beside me. “Gorgeous, isn’t it.”
It’s not so much a question as a statement, but I nod nonetheless. It sure is.
Jackson gives my shoulder a clap. “You leave again, and I’m setting my dad after you. He knows his way around a castration.”
I blink in shock as Jackson jogs down the handful of deck stairs to the grass below.
He stops, looking back at me. “Coming?”
With a laugh I can feel straight down to my heart, I follow Jackson toward the horse barn.
Yeah. It’s damn good to be back.
The day passes swiftly, albeit with a good dose of grime and grit. Jackson keeps with me through it all, but not much of the process has changed since I was last here, so it’s easy to get back into the saddle, literally and metaphorically.
By the time two o’clock hits, I’m worn out in the best way. Jackson sends me off with a hearty slap to my back, and I ride my new companion, Clover, back to the stables. He’s sweet, if not a little green. But I don’t mind the horse being young, not when he’s so quick to listen.
After dismounting, I lead him through the barn doors, several of the other first-shift ranchers getting their own horses settled. The process doesn’t take all that long, removing Clover’s gear, giving him a wash and a brush, and rewarding his good behavior with a couple carrots. He munches those up quickly, setting in on the hay in his stall next. Remi will come through to feed the horses their grain later, once they’ve cooled down.
I give Clover a long pat down the side of his neck, his coat shining a rich chestnut brown. “Thanks for the good first day,” I tell the horse. It makes all the difference, having a riding companion you’re well suited to. No one wants to be struggling with the reins while there are cattle to be dealt with.
The horse doesn’t answer, but his gentle huffing breath sounds a lot like contentment.
With a final pat, I leave Clover to his hay and head out of the stall. I give a few goodbyes to the other ranchers, making my way across the grounds slowly, taking everything in again.I can see Snickerdoodle the pony off in the petting farm, a few chickens passing near her feet. The goats are running around inside the fenced-off space, their bleats audible, even from here. I stop still when I spot Lawson on the back deck of the ranch house, reclined leisurely in a chair.
He waves, and I get moving again, heading his way.
“Good first day back?” he calls.
I pull off my hat, running a hand through my hair as I send the brimmed leather toward Lawson like a frisbee. He catches it, huffing as he sets it aside. “Just fine,” I tell him, dropping down in the chair next to his, the shade on the deck welcome.
“Only fine?” Lawson asks dubiously. His ankles are crossed, the whiskey-brown of his eyes watching me closely.
“It was great,” I say honestly. “Except for the part where I found out you’ve been struggling, Lawson, and not allowing anyone to help.”
He looks taken aback. “I’ve been fine.”
“Oh, nowyou’vebeen fine. It sure doesn’t sound like it.”
His expression closes off slightly, a mulishness taking place that he gets from his mother. And his father. “I don’t know who’s been talking, but it’s nothing anyone needs to worry about.”
I scoff. “What were you just saying to me? That when you care about someone, when you love them, you look after them. Isn’t that right?”
He doesn’t say a thing.
“You don’t count in that?” I ask. “Why the fuck not?”
Again, no response.
