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“Why does she have horses if she doesn’t ride?”
He laughs at me like I’m a precocious child. “Some guys give flowers. Buddy gives his woman horses. I guess he hopes each time that it’ll be the one she wants.”
I pour grain in the feeder for Onyx, a muscular gelding named for the color of his coat. He’s another one of Ms. Clara’s collection. I have an idea percolating at the back of my mind, but I haven’t figured out all the pieces to it yet. This feels like one more piece sliding into place.
As much as Buddy acted like the wranglers would reject me for my gender, my experience has been exactly the opposite. They’re respectful, sweet, and didn’t even make fun of my new hair that much. Other than a few new nicknames like “Red” and “Ruby”, it’s been an easy transition. That’s not to say there haven’t been awkward moments while living with a bunch of guys. I’ve smelled smells I didn’t know were humanly possible. They guys have dealt with me harping on their socks being all over the bunkroom. I’ve fallen into the toilet in the dead of night more times than I want to count since they don’t ever put the toilet seat down. For the most part, it’s working, though I do wonder if living in one of those more primitive cabins might be better. Lonelier, but better.
The only one I can’t ever complain about is Rhett. He’s the first to remind the guys to clean up their language when I’m around. He throws clothes at anyone who even starts to think about sitting around in his underwear. He’s the perfect guardian even when I never asked for it. He’s determined to protect me not only from my past, but from anything he sees as a threat. Even Houston’s epic gas after Cookie’s chili.
Whatever tricks Cookie and his brother pulled to get Whitlock and Stills off my case seem to be working. My new sanctuary feels like a shield protecting me from their search. After a couple weeks of the same routine, it’s starting to get hard to believe I was ever anyone else before I was Sunny from California.
Rhett
After a day like I’ve had, all I want to do is crawl into my bunk and go to sleep. It started with not waking up for my alarm. Thankfully, Weston gave me a shove before he went down for breakfast. In my hurry to get ready, I had to skip breakfast. Cookie tossed me a granola bar on the way out the door, but I held off eating it as long as I could. I hate oats.
My plans for the day went south more than once. Horses came up lame. Murphy’s law was in full effect and not even a couple shots of Sunny’s reassuring smile helped. Maybe because it was equally paired with Dad’s disapproval. I don’t know if she sees him watching her, always judging her work. After a few weeks, I thought he’d lay off a bit, but it only seems to get worse. As usual, his glare only threw me off more, making mistakes left and right. By the time we got out of the yard, Dad was ready to let me have it.
I dealt with his lectures for the next hour, constantly reminding me about the work that needs to be done and the responsibilities on my shoulders. As if I’ve ever forgotten. It felt like mastering this lifestyle was my ticket to having a new family. I’ve never had any other option. Thankfully, it’s always fit who I am. I don’t know what I’d do if it didn’t.
The day didn’t get much better from there. I forgot my saddlebag with my lunch back in the yard, plans for the day fell apart, we made do, but an unscheduled thunderstorm struck, and half the horses were spooked and ran back to the barn.
I opted to walk back while Houston shared a horse with Silas, and Buck took Chance. I thought a long walk would give me time to think and clear my mind, but no such luck. Time to think turned into time to brood. By the time I made it back to the yard, I was soaked, the yard was clear, and the animals were fed. Some days it’s best just to pretend the day never happened.
I pull back the door to the bunkhouse, stomach growling, mood sour, and ready to put this day behind me. I expect the dining room to be loud with the usual noise and excitement, but every chair sits empty. Checking my watch, I know I’m not late. Feet thump above me, I swear I hear the shower running. What are they up to? Is dinner late?
“Holy smokes, what happened to you, kid? You look like you got dunked in the ocean and held under for good measure.” Cookie’s voice jars me back to the present again. “Sunny said you forgot your lunch. You must be running on nothing but fumes. I’ve got some chile relleno if you want it.”
I nod slowly, still confused by the lack of people. I tap my finger against my watch, trying to see if the hands lost time. “Where is everyone?”
“They kicked off early because of the thunderstorm. Austin got everyone to get through things a little faster and they’re headed into town to blow off some steam.” Cookie stretches a plate of food toward me. “It is Friday night after all, boss man.”
I breathe in Cookie’s cooking. Even after all this time, it still reminds me of Santiago and Manna Meals. It almost has the power to chase away the cold from my wet clothes. “Good for them. They deserve it. It’ll give me time to get some sleep without Weston’s snoring.”
Cookie pulls out the chair next to mine, wiping his hands on the towel he keeps over his shoulder. “You’re not going?”
I shake my head, not willing to break between shoveling food into my mouth. No matter how much I eat, I always worry the pain won’t go away. Strange how certain memories are still a fear even after the passage of time. I jam in the last of the chile and gulp down the glass of milk Cookie left for me.
“I plan on going upstairs, taking a shower, changing into something warm and going to sleep.” I realize I sound like an old man, but the way this day has gone, I feel like I shouldn’t give it one more chance to try to screw me up.
Cookie nods while I work on the cornbread and butter. “You don’t think anything could change your mind?”
“Nothing,” I say with a full mouth. A couple of crumbs splatter on to the plate, but I can’t bring myself to care. “There is nothing in the world that could talk me out of my plan. It’s too good.”
“You’re probably right.” Cookie slides my empty plate away as feet thunder down the stairwell. I don’t like the look in his eye, like he knows more than me. If he’d had the day I just had, he wouldn’t be so smug.
“Rhett, you’re back.” My full focus shifts to Sunny as she nearly skips into the room. Her dark red hair isn’t pulled into a braid or stuffed under one of Weston’s hats. Long, nearly stretching to her waist, but curled at the ends, it leaves me mesmerized. She’s darkened her eyes with makeup, enhancing what I already found beautiful. Her teeth grab hold of one of her glossy lips for a split second before she lets it go. “You look like you’ve had a hard day.”
“Yeah,” I shake my head a bit to knock free of my trance, “it felt like nothing was going right.”
At least until now. She’s switched out of the loose clothes she wears for work, back into the tight-fitting jeans she wore when she first arrived. Watching her hands smooth over the slight curve in her waist, I feel like I’ve been reduced to a fumbling teenage boy again.
“You probably won’t want to come with us then.”
My attention snaps back to her face. “You’re going?”
She shrugs. “It sounded like fun. Austin says the place has karaoke, and I don’t plan on singing, but I feel like watching Buck and Silas do a duet could be epic.” Her gentle smile nearly breaks me. “We’ll miss you.”
“What do you mean? I’m totally coming.” I clear my throat, gathering up what dishes Cookie didn’t grab first. “I need a shower to warm up, and then I’m ready to go.”
