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Albie climbed back up onto Minnie and he took the reins from Percy, scowling. “No, she’s telling me there’s hay in that stable, that’s what she’s telling me.”
“Well, it would be rude to keep a lady waiting,” Percy said, still grinning.
Albie huffed indignantly, though Percy could have sworn he was trying not to smile. He could tell Albie was a serious young man, astute and perhaps a little short-tempered. But he also saw a flicker of a sense of humour threatening to reveal itself every so often, and for that briefest moment, Albie looked his age.
Just nineteen, and all this land was his.
And what a beautiful place it was.
Two barking dogs came out to greet them, followed by a man with a limp who stopped when he saw it was Albie. He was a solid man, with forearms like a brute. Mid-thirties, if Percy were to guess, with short curly hair the colour of mud.
He smiled at Albie. “Good to have you back, Albie,” he said, then gave Percy a cautious nod. “I didn’t expect you to have company.”
Albie slid down off Minnie, so Percy did the same and came around for introductions. “Des, this is Percy Collins,” Albie said. “He’s starting here today. Percy, Des is the foreman. Do everything he asks—” He paused with the hint of a smile. “—before he asks it.”
Des smiled at that, a familiar exchange between them that Percy assumed was an inside joke. Nonetheless, Percy held out his hand, nervous and wanting to make a good impression. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
Des gave him a measured pause before shaking his hand. “Likewise. But how about we drop the sir?”
Percy gave him a grin, relieved. “Yes, si... Des.”
Albie chuckled, then looked around. “Everything in order?”
“As it should be,” Des said. “Took the liberty of getting your fire going. My knee tells me there’s a southerly coming. Rain and cold. Robert’s down checking the yearlings.”
“Good, good,” Albie said. “Percy, you can get set up in the bunk quarters with the men.” He nodded over to the outbuildings where a smaller house stood at the end. “Hope you don’t mind the sound of snoring.”
“Oh hey,” Des said, admonishing him. “Be away with that.”
Albie laughed and the sound of it, the smile on his face, Percy couldn’t help but feel the pull of a thread in his chest, tugging at something unfamiliar yet welcome. Warm and lovely.
And forbidden.
“Let’s get these goods unpacked,” Albie said, pulling at the buckle on Ox’s saddlebag.
“You get everything on your list?” Des asked as he helped.
Percy could see now that Des didn’t limp as such, more that his right leg just didn’t bend too well.
Albie put the bags of seeds on the veranda of the house, Des grabbed the flour, sugar, and salt, and Percy rushed to help with the last few things. “Why don’t you two talk business—the market sales have come forward, remember—and I’ll tend to the horses,” Percy offered. “Then when you’re done, Des can show me which bunk is mine and show me what needs doing.” He took the reins to Minnie and Bandit, with Ox still tethered. “Any stable in particular you want ’em?”
Albie gave him a pleased nod. “Whichever’s clean and empty,” he said. Then he and Des carried their bags and sacks inside the house.
Percy felt the breeze bite and he looked skyward. The clouds were low and dark, and slowly rolling in. Des’s knee was right, he thought. “Come on then,” he said to the horses. “Let’s get you out of this.”
He busied himself with the horses. He slung the saddles over the rail and hung the bridles and halters up on the hooks on the wall. He made sure they had fresh hay and water, and he even took a few minutes to brush them down.
Ox took his hat again, waving it like a joke. Minnie was happy with her feed, and Bandit... well, Percy took an extra minute with him. “You like it here?” he asked him. “Seems nice so far, huh? Away from the dirty looks in town, and the air’s so clean up here it almost hurts to breathe.” He brushed his mane. “We’ll do just fine up here, I reckon. Just fine, you and me.”
“You always talk to your horse?” Des asked from the door.
Percy hadn’t heard him come in, and he started a little, followed quickly by a rush of foolishness. “I do, yeah,” Percy admitted. “Mostly ’cause he never argues.”
Des snorted, taking in the neatly arranged saddles and how each horse was fed and happy. Pleased, he threw a glance toward the door. “I’ll show ya to your quarters.”
* * *
The bunk quarters were basically one large room with six single beds, a table, and a wood fire. The walls were wooden planks, same as the floor. The roof was tin. The windows were covered with uneven strips of fabric for curtains, and an old sheet on a rope divided the room for privacy. But it was warm and dry, and it sure beat sleeping outside.
