Family Reunion by Margaret P.
(With thanks to betas Suzanne Lyte and Terri Derr)
Part Two (Words: 2,470)
The next couple of weeks were spent with Scott, just riding about and helping the ranch hands or studying; Jack hit the books a bit more than he intended just to keep Scott company. Both of them took to the ranch work like ducks to water, even though it was hard yakka. They discovered muscles they never knew existed, but they loved every minute of it and learned heaps. The vaqueros showed them how to use a lasso, brand cattle and shoe a horse. After some instruction, they even took responsibility for replacing a section of fence in the South Gully. It must have been one of the first barbed wire fences erected on the ranch, because it didn't look anything like the modern wire. Some of it was so rusty it fell apart in their hands.
They hitched a ride into Green River with the foreman that day. Funny, they'd been itching to get into town, but once they got there the malls and movie houses weren't that interesting. When he dropped them off Tom Ramirez offered to drive in again in the evening. "Text your parents and get permission if you want to stay in town. Let me know when I see you back here at eleven." But after an hour wandering about they decided they would rather go back to the ranch and help with the fencing.
Seth, a Lancer ranch hand from way back, dropped the wire and posts off for them by horse-drawn wagon after lunch. Terri justified the continued use of the old wagons by claiming they were more environmentally friendly, but Jack thought she just preferred horses to trucks. He and Scott arrived at the gully on horseback in time to help unload. Seth made sure they knew what they were doing and then left them to it. By the time they finished, every muscle was crying out for a long soak in the hot tub.
But it was worth it. When he came for the leftover materials and tools, Seth checked the fence out thoroughly and was clearly impressed. "I couldn't have done better myself."
Feeling stoked, the boys rode back to the hacienda alongside the wagon. They were halfway there when Jack discovered he had left his phone behind. "You go on. It will be under the tree where we dumped our shirts."
The day had been sweltering and they'd both stripped to the waist for a while. Jack was surprised he wasn't more burned. He could never have left his shirt off in the sun that long in Auckland—no holes in the ozone layer in the northern hemisphere. It made a difference. Even so, he should have put his shirt back on a little sooner. He could feel the uncomfortable tingle of sunburn across the top of his shoulders.
The man with the gun was sitting under the tree examining the phone when Jack got back to where he and Scott had been working. "This yours?"
"Yeah, thanks." Jack dismounted and reached down for the mobile just as a text came in. It made the cowboy jump, and he dropped the smartphone on the grass.
"Sorry." Picking it up again the cowboy stared at the alert on screen until the backlighting faded. Only then did he pass the phone to Jack.
"No worries. It's just Scott wanting to know if I found my phone." Slightly puzzled by the cowboy's behaviour, Jack hunkered down and text a reply. The cowboy watched him closely. If Jack didn't know better he'd have thought the guy had never seen a cellphone before.
The cowboy nodded towards their afternoon's work. "Nice job. You've been pushing hard."
"Thanks, and yeah we wanted to prove to Terri and Tom we could be some use around the place. Maybe they'll let us help with the droving next week."
"Made peace with your pa yet?"
"No, but he wants us to ride up to the black mesa together tomorrow." Jack stretched his aching muscles and wondered if he could bribe Ellie into giving him a neck massage.
A rabbit stood up on its hind legs, capturing their attention, and then turned tail and disappeared down a nearby hole.
The cowboy smiled and returned his gaze to Jack. "You going?"
"Yeah. I was thinking about what you said." Jack reddened. He glanced over as he doodled with a stick in the dirt. "My cousin Scott and his dad Garry are heading out to some favourite old haunt too."
"Your fathers know the ranch then?"
"Uh huh, my grandfather ran it before Terri, and Scott's grandparents have a business in Spanish Wells. Dad and Garry spent a lot of time together as kids. They were best mates. I suppose you grew up around here too?"
"No. I was born here, but my mother took me south when I was two. I came back later for a time. When did your aunt take over as manager?"
"About four years ago. Gets advice from Granddad occasionally, and Dad's been helping with the reunion. Terri and Garry are the history buffs, but Dad's done a lot of the organising."
The reunion was just the excuse for a get-together that his dad and Garry had been looking for. They hadn't stopped yacking since they'd arrived. You wouldn't think two men could have so much to talk about, but they'd sit out on the patio knocking back the whiskies for hours. They'd been out there the night before when Jack had come downstairs for a glass of water. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but he'd heard his name and then a lot more besides. "I accidentally overheard Dad and Scott's dad talking about 'mending bridges'. Garry reckoned they were both workaholics, but Dad would leave Garry for dead. In his old job Dad flew all over Australasia for work. We hardly ever saw him last year. And there's other stuff too. Believe me my dad has a lot more bridge-mending to do than Scott's—a lot more."
Jack decapitated a dandelion and rose to his feet. The cowboy picked up the yellow flower and twiddled it in his fingers. He didn't speak, but Jack could see the question in a sideways glance. Jack didn't respond. He'd said too much again—got to stop doing that. He mounted Barranca and nodded. "See you."
Riding back to the hacienda alone, the question nagged at him. As he rode through the Lancer arch he finally muttered an answer for Barranca's ears only. "Yes, I want Dad to try. Of course I do."
Jack and Mick Lancer rode towards the black mesa just after breakfast the following day. They saddled up and walked the horses clear of the yard in silence, but then they made good speed up the valley, cantering most of the way until they reached the foothills. They pulled up and let the horses drink from the creek before starting the climb. Mick leaned over and tapped Jack on the shoulder. A young deer was drinking further upstream. The doe raised its head and looked straight at them, then flicked her ears and clambered up the bank, disappearing into bushes.
Sweat trickled down Jack's neck as he followed his father uphill, the trail winding between boulders and woodland. The air hummed with cicadas and hung heavy with the scent of pine. They paused to watch an eagle circling overhead until it vanished behind some redwoods. Then two squirrels chasing each other through nearby branches made them both laugh. When they crested the hill, a vast grassy plateau spread out before them. A small herd of wild horses grazed on the far side. Jack's jaw just dropped. This would be his idea of heaven.
"Want to put that lariat to use?" Mick nodded towards the rope coiled and tied to Jack's saddle.
"You mean…?"
"That's why I brought you up here. Thought if we could catch a wild one I'd teach you how to break it to the saddle." Mick leaned forward and untied his own rope. "But if you'd rather not we can always…."
"Are you kidding? " Grinning from ear to ear, Jack transferred his lariat to the horn ready for the chase. On his father's signal they spurred their horses towards the herd, going wide in opposite directions to maintain the element of surprise as long as possible and so they could work together to prevent the horses escaping.
They only just got into position before the stallion spotted them. He reared up, turned and galloped away, leading the other horses across the mesa. Their unshod hooves thundered through the long, dry grass. Jack leaned forward in the saddle and spurred Barranca to full speed. The herd ran almost straight for a while, but then suddenly veered towards the foothills. Shit, they were going to lose them. No, maybe not; his father really had grown up on the ranch. "Go, Dad!"
Mick cut a roan out from the rear of the bunch and drove it towards Jack. Twirling the rope above his head, Jack rode one handed. He and Barranca edged closer and closer. Finally level with the mare's hindquarters, he released the lasso forward. "Whooee!"
The noose dropped over the wild horse's head as if guided by the hands of his guardian angel. Jack hauled back, wrapping the slack around the horn. The mare jerked to a halt, and began to twist and turn and rear in a desperate attempt to get free.
"Textbook—well done, Jack!" His dad reined up next to him, panting and laughing. He threw another rope around the mare's neck and helped Jack settle the animal down before leading the way to a grove of cottonwoods on the edge of the mesa.
Jack fetched water from the brook nearby while Mick built a fire to brew the coffee. Then they settled down to eat the sandwiches they'd brought with them, reliving the chase between every mouthful.
Jack was absolutely knackered, but he couldn't stop smiling. He sat back in the shade and watched the horses nicker and nudge at each other. Barranca had been brilliant. He'd run like the wind.
"It's not what you think, you know." Mick crouched by the fire as he poured a second mug of coffee. "I just wasn't home enough. Took me time to admit it, but that's why I've changed jobs. It's better now—right?"
His old man had to fucking spoil it, didn't he? Jack looked up into the branches above his head, trying to get rid of the feeling of being sucker-punched. "What about that female? The one you went to Hong Kong and Melbourne with."
"Work, Jack. Just work."
Jack made a growling sound in his throat, but said nothing.
Putting his hat down on the ground, Mick wiped sweat from his neck with his bandana and for a few minutes studied his boots. Then he took a deep breath, brought a hand across his face and met Jack's eyes. "You don't believe me? You're growing up too fast, you know that? Okay, the truth. What you're suggesting—what your mother thought when she kicked me out for the week—it was on offer. And yes, maybe I was to blame for that. I didn't mean to, but apparently I gave the wrong idea. But I told her no, Jack."
"Weren't even tempted—the faithful, virtuous husband."
"Sarcasm doesn't suit you." Mick gulped at his coffee and put the enamel mug down next to his hat. Getting up, he paced backwards and forwards a couple of times, running his hand through his hair. Then he sat back down. "I thought about it, all right? I was flattered. But whether you choose to believe me or not, I love your mother. I am a faithful husband and I intend to stay that way. Mum knows that now. The only thing upsetting us at the moment is you. You're not happy, and I know that's partly my fault, but I want to help. Talk to me, Jack. Please."
Jack focused on an ant carrying a leaf twice its size across the ground in front of him. Even if what his father said was true, where did he get off thinking it made up for everything else? He had missed every rugby match Jack had played for two years straight and most of Ellie's hockey as well. Did he even know Jack played guitar in a rock band? Big on lectures when old Rutherford was on his case over one little scrap and then off again to Sydney before the week was over.
Jack snuck a sideways glance. Mick was drinking coffee again and gazing into his cup. He didn't look happy.
To be fair, he had come home at a decent hour every evening for the last few weeks. He'd got time off for this holiday too. Today was good, and he'd admitted being in the wrong. Maybe going away so much really had caused all the problems between him and Jack's mum. Maybe it wasn't what Jack had thought. They did seem okay again. Jack picked up a stick and started breaking it into pieces. "I'm bored shitless at school, Dad. I'm not interested in calculus or history. I know you want me to go to uni and get a 'proper' job, but… I'm not like you. Working all day in an office is my idea of hell."
"A 'proper' job doesn't have to be in an office, Jack, but you need qualifications these days for most jobs. I can't see you being happy digging ditches for a living. We can talk about subjects."
"Old Rutherford would never let me change at this stage."
"You leave Mr Rutherford to me and your mother. You just think about what you want to do and what subjects you need to make that possible."
Jack felt like he was going to cry. He nodded as he got up and went over to the horses. He pretended to look for his phone in his saddle bags. "I forgot. I promised Mum I'd text when we got up here."
When he returned, he sat down next to his father. Mick handed him a fresh mug of coffee.
"My whole life feels like a mess, Dad, and I don't know why." Jack felt embarrassed— bottling up his feelings and thoughts had become a habit—but talking did seem to help. His dad was listening and trying to be on his side. Maybe in time it would get easier. The cowboy in the red shirt knew a thing or two after all, and Jack looked forward to telling him so.
But the guy must have gone away or been busy elsewhere. After a week or two, Jack started to wonder if he'd ever see him again.
Notes:
1. Because Jack is a Kiwi teenager and the story is from his point of view, there is some slang in this story and some of it is peculiar to New Zealand. Hopefully most will be clear from the context, but if you are having trouble . or . or . /kiwispeak/index might help.
2. New Zealand pronunciation is more like UK English than American English so, for example, when you see 'NZ' read it as 'En Zed'. The rest I have written as usual as pronounced; for example, Jack says 'Mum' whereas Scott says 'Mom'.
3. This story loosely links to other stories I have written: Good Listener, From Highlands to Homecoming and The Face of a Father.
4. This story draws the occasional phrase from or refers to places mentioned in Lancer episodes, e.g. The Homecoming , Pilot movie, or The Highriders, Series 1, Episode 1; To Chase a Wild Horse, Series 1, Episode 3; and The Experiment, Series 2, Episode 18.