Day 24
The flat, pristine field of recently-fallen snow was now covered in tracks from a single horse, galloping in a mostly straight line leading back to the outermost fence of Troy's property. There was no better feeling than riding through a vast, open space, even with the harsh burning of bitterly cold air striking his face.
His breath and Lana's breath were visible when they came to a stop at the top of a hill gently sloping down toward the little town of Douglas. Troy was more focused on the sun getting lower in the sky. He had planned on taking a quick ride before going home and enjoying Christmas Eve with his wife and daughter. The weather was perfect—as perfect as it could get when it was this cold—so he decided not to pass it up. That, and something had been calling him outside for the last couple of hours. He couldn't quite describe it, and, naturally, he listened to it.
Lana was patient while Troy looked around. The white mare was doing some looking of her own, sniffing the air and turning her ears at each sound. When her rider spoke, though, her ears turned back toward him.
"Feels like we have the whole of Wyoming to ourselves, huh," Troy said. "Everyone's already home or at church, I imagine." He grinned a little. "This is one of the prettiest Christmas Eves I've seen in a while."
Lana remained focused on something ahead of her. Troy reached over to touch the horse's neck. "You see something?" Of course, Lana couldn't talk, but she could communicate in her own way. Troy wasn't nearly as adept at horse communication as Moffitt, as he sometimes struggled with being patient, but he was far better at understanding horses than his father.
It had been several decades since his father's death by that point. Troy had his differences with his father, but had learned everything he needed to know about ranching from him. He owed him that much. Their relationship became marred and frayed when both of Troy's grandparents passed away.
Troy gave a quiet sigh before urging Lana forward, not wanting to get lost in his memories. He was curious about what his father's thoughts would be on where his oldest was now. Including the fact that I'm estranged from Mom, Troy thought. He never did do anything his father wanted after their relationship had begun deteriorating. He never went to college. It just wasn't what he wanted to do, especially since it would be for the sake of having an education. An education in what? How to waste money and make yourself miserable? To make matters "worse," Troy had been passing his ranching knowledge on to his adopted daughter, Antheia. She got more enjoyment out of working with Troy than she did in school. She loved working with the horses and had mentioned several times that was what she wanted to do when she graduated from high school. I know. That makes me one big disappointment, because we're doing the same thing my grandparents did when they came here from Greece and not "moving forward." So what? This is what I wanted to do with my life.
He had no problems with the fact that Moffitt and Hitch both attended college, because that had been what they wanted, and they were good people. They never belittled Troy and Tully for not wanting to go to college. They all saw the value in each other's life experiences. They all came from vastly different places, but that was part of what made their friendship strongest—having unique experiences and perspectives that made each other interesting to talk to, and yielded great advice when it was needed. Troy certainly wouldn't trade that for something he felt was so trivial.
He and Lana stopped again a fair distance away from a set of railroad tracks when they both heard the far-off sound of a train whistle. The sight and sound of a train would always bring Troy back to the day he left home. He watched this particular train—a passenger one, probably carrying people home for Christmas—with a somewhat distant look on his face. He remembered hastily packing what little he owned, arguing with his mother the whole way, and storming out the door. From there, he was on his way to enlist and never look back.
He had been so determined to not look back that he did his best to keep his home life a secret from everyone—including his own team for the longest time—and it took a lot of poking and prodding before he finally opened up. There was no criticism, no telling him that he was truly a disappointment to his family. There was sympathy and plenty of listening ears, and it made Troy feel a little silly at times for having hidden everything. After all, Moffitt and Hitch saved him from being homeless by gifting him a large sum of money to get his ranch started after the war. That right there should have told him that they wouldn't look at him differently.
That was in the past now. Having people he could count on for help was a great relief at times. He didn't have to bottle things up anymore, or pretend everything was okay when it wasn't. He felt like he could focus on other things, more important things. His family, for instance.
The last car of the train passed by, but Troy and Lana remained motionless for a little while. Lana snorted and shook her head, awaiting her rider's next command. Troy drew in a breath, then said, "Maybe I shouldn't think of the day I left home as the day I lost everything, but the day I slowly began putting things together."
It was starting to get dark, and he had promised to make a fresh batch of hot chocolate, so Troy turned Lana around, and began heading for home.