We rode. And we rode. I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it was getting a bit cooler the higher up that we got. It was windy.
Brian and I's conversation so far had been minimal. We were both enjoying the ride. I knew I was, for sure, and I could tell that he
was, too.
At one point, Brian pulled Buck to a stop, and reached to his saddle's side, untying his jacket, and handing it off to me.
"You're shivering," he said. "Put that on."
I slipped it on, and it nearly swallowed me up. I rolled up the sleeves as best as I could right then, and we rode on. At one point, we
saw some wild turkeys, and Brian pointed them out, both of us being quiet so as to not startle them into taking flight.
We rode so long that I wished for a break. My legs were stiff, and I could use a chance to stretch.
I rode up beside him. "Can we stop for a couple of minutes?" I asked him. "I need to stretch my legs."
"Yeah," Brian said. "I could stand a break, too."
So, we stopped for a few minutes. We walked around, and drank some water, and then, we started off again.
"It's a long ways up here," I said.
"Another thirty minutes or so, and we'll stop for the night," Brian said.
"I don't remember ever coming this far up," I said.
"It's been a while," Brian said. "But you have. When you were real little."
"How little?" I asked, wanting to hear the story. "Did Guthrie come, too?"
"You were-" Brian looked thoughtful, "I think about four, maybe. Guthrie came along, too, that time. I think it was all of us, except
Adam and Evan." He thought some more. "And Ford. He stayed home, too."
"So you and me-and Guthrie, and Crane and Daniel?" I asked, wanting more details.
"Yeah. If I'm remembering it right."
I thought of an approximately 20 year old Brian, bringing along a four and five year old, with a 16 year old Crane and 12 year old Daniel
to help. All the way up here. Doing ranch work, and camping out.
"Were you working on fence?" I asked him.
"We were clearing some brush if I remember," Brian said.
"So did Daniel watch us while you and Crane did that?"
"You and Guthrie pitched in, too, picking up little limbs, but yeah, Daniel watched you, I think."
"Were we good?" I asked him. "Me and Guthrie?"
I'd been sort of joking, thinking that he might say that Guthrie and I had been rowdy or cried for our beds or something like that.
But Brian said seriously, "You were good kids. Both of you. You were usually pretty good."
We stopped shortly after that, and I had to admit that I was glad of it. I felt as though I'd been in the saddle for a week. It had
been a good long while since I'd ridden this far of a distance.
Brian watched me stretching and gave me a knowing look over his saddle as he began to uncinch it.
"Sore?" he asked me.
"A little, yeah," I admitted.
When we'd gotten the horses settled, with their feedbags on, and they'd been watered, and brushed down, Brian began to prepare to
start a campfire. He sent me to gather some wood, pointing to a short distance from where we were making camp.
"See that tree?" he asked me, pointing. "There should be some wood still cut from the last time we were up here. It's Oak. Get a
few sticks of that."
I went to get the sticks of wood, and brought them back over to him. Brian told me to put them down, and went back to
building the fire.
"How did you remember exactly where you where at before?" I asked him, somewhat in awe. "I mean-where the same tree was and
all?"
"Just enough times up here, I guess," Brian said.
"Or a really good sense of direction," I countered and Brian gave me a slight smile.
"Maybe," he said.
I stood, watching as he crouched, building up the fire. "Oak's the best for a campfire," he said.
"It is?"
"The best for campfire cooking, anyway," he said.
"How come?" I asked, curious.
"It burns hot and slow, and it works good for different meats."
"Oh." I sat down on the ground, and watched him, as he scrambled some of the powdered eggs, and then laid some biscuits over the top, just enough to
warm them a bit.
We ate our biscuits with eggs between them, and drank water. I surprised myself by eating three biscuits.
Then I got up to take an apple from my own saddlebag. "Want one?" I called over to him.
Brian said yes, and I took him an apple, and then sat back down. By now our sleeping bags had been rolled out, and our saddles were
there to lay our heads on.
Brian took out his pocketknife and began to cut up his apple, eating it that way.
"I remember something else now," he said.
"What?"
"That trip we made up here, you and Guthrie decided to sneak off and go wading in the creek over there, when we
took our eyes off of you. You got leeches stuck to your legs, and you were screaming like a banshee."
"What?" I asked, horrified. "Leeches?"
"Yeah. That's how we knew were the two of you had gotten off to, by hearing you scream like that."
"How'd you get them off of me?" I asked.
"Salt." Brian took another bite of sliced apple. "Put salt on them and they'll fall off."
"Oh, my gosh," I said, still horrified.
"Found out later that was the wrong thing to do," Brian went on. "There's a chance of infection if you use salt or other stuff to get them
off."
"What are you supposed to do?" I asked.
"They say they'll come off in 30 to 45 minutes by themselves. Or you can scrape them with your fingernail."
I shuddered. "Ugh. That's disgusting."
Brian leaned forward to poke the fire.
"Why didn't Guthrie get them?" I asked.
"I don't know."
"Maybe he's too sour," I said, and smiled at him.
Brian gave a low chuckle. "Maybe."
"It was probably Guthrie's idea to sneak off like that," I said, joking.
"Oh, sure," Brian said, in a disbelieving way, with a snort.
"I would never," I said, pressing a hand to my chest in mock drama.
"You both got in trouble," Brian said. "No matter whose idea it was to begin with."
"We did?"
"Yeah. Of course. You both knew better than to wander like that."
"I don't remember any of it," I said.
"Well, the spanking must have done some good. You didn't wander off anymore."
"Didn't you think I'd suffered enough already?" I asked him. "With the leeches, and all of that?"
"Daniel tried to convince me of that idea, too, I remember that," Brian said.
At the thought of Daniel, I felt a pull on my heart.
"Daniel always looked out for me," I said.
"Yeah. He did," Brian said, in agreement.
I hugged my knees to my chest. "I guess you wonder why I didn't talk to Daniel the other night when he called," I said, tentatively.
Brian gave the fire another poke. "I figured you had your reasons."
"I did," I admitted. "But-they weren't good reasons, I guess. I called him, and he didn't say what I wanted him to say. So-I
didn't want to talk to him again later."
"Hmmm," Brian said.
"Did he tell you about it?" I asked.
"No."
"None of it? He didn't tell you-that i hung up on him?"
Brian met my eyes across the fire. "No."
"Well, I did." I sighed, blowing my bangs up. "Childish, huh?"
If I thought he'd disagree, I would have been wrong.
"I'd say it was," he said.
I picked up a small stick, and did my own poking of the fire.
"About as childish as hiding on the stairs, eavesdropping," Brian added.
I felt my face get hot, and I hoped Brian couldn't see it. I was pretty sure that he couldn't.
"I thought you'd outgrown that kind of crap," Brian said. He said it matter-of-factly, not harshly, but it still stung me. Hard.
I'd been enjoying my afternoon with Brian, and talking about old times, and being out of doors in the sunshine. Now, I felt
scolded and called on the carpet.
"I guess I haven't," I said, hurt. I hugged my knees and rocked back and forth a little.
Brian didn't rush to appease my feelings, or anything like that. He didn't say any more about it at all. He just looked at me,
and then he said, "It's gonna be an early morning. Better be gettin' to sleep."
I went off to the bushes to go pee, taking a flashlight, and then came back, rinsing my hands and getting a drink of water. I did my shot, and put
everything away again. And then, I crawled into my sleeping bag, staring up at the stars.
I was tired from the long day and long ride, and staring at the stars soothed me.
I was nearly ready to drift off, when I felt Brian beside me, and he pulled the top of my sleeping bag up higher over me, making sure
I was covered up, and then went to take his seat back by the fire.
"Night, Bri," I said, softly.
"I thought you were asleep," he said.
"Almost."
"Goodnight, peach," he said.
7
It seemed as though I'd only just closed my eyes, and it was time to open them. Brian was mixing pancakes in the cast iron
pan, and pouring himself a cup of coffee.
I stirred, and he said, "Morning."
"Good morning," I said.
"Gonna be a busy day," he said.
I struggled to a sitting position, pushing the sleeping bag down to my waist, sitting like that a couple of minutes, watching
him, trying to wake up.
"Pancakes are gonna be done," Brian said. "Get movin'."
I stood up, shimmying my way out of the bag. I went to pee, and then splashed water on my face, from one of the canteens.
I tucked my shirt in, and went to sit near the fire, and pulled on my boots.
It was still chilly to me, and I shrugged into Brian's jacket, as he handed me a plate with pancakes.
"Thank you."
"There's some butter, there," he said, pointing to a small Tupperware container. "And syrup in that one."
"You thought of everything," I said, pouring some syrup over the pancakes.
"Hannah did the planning," he said.
For the next few minutes, we were quiet, as we ate, and drank the strong black coffee.
After that, I rinsed off the breakfast plates while Brian saddled the horses. Then we rode out. We started along a fence row not
far from the campsite, where Brian walked one part and I walked the other, looking for fence that needed repair.
Brian stopped to use his fence pliers in a couple of places. He'd brought leather work gloves for himself, and for me, too. I tagged
after him when he found spots that needed fixing, holding the wire while Brian used the wire crimper.
After we'd worked awhile, we stopped to take some drinks from our canteens.
The cold water tasted so good. It had warmed up long before, and I'd shed Brian's jacket, retying to my own saddle.
"I was thirsty," I said.
"Nothing better than a drink of cold water when you're thirsty," he said.
"Yeah." I wiped my forehead, and replaced my ball cap. "Are we almost done with this side?"
Brian chuckled a little. "We haven't even worked ourselves halfway, peach."
"Wow. Really?" I asked. It had been a while since I'd done this much physical labor, and I was feeling it.
"Better get yourself a snack," he told me. "Look in my saddlebag. There's some baggies with nuts in there."
I went to get the nuts, and gobbled them up with no hesitation.
We went back to work, riding until Brian would spot something, and then we'd dismount and walk the fence line, working to
fix the wire.
I was more than ready when Brian called lunch break. We sat on the grass, while the horses grazed, and ate jerky and biscuits,
and I ate more snacks in baggies. Grapes, and another apple.
"You doin' alright?" Brian asked me, leaning back and eating his biscuit.
"I'm okay."
"I mean your diabetes. No headache? Or feeling weird?"
"No headache."
Now that I thought about it, I realized I hadn't had even an inkling of a headache since yesterday. I said so to Brian, wondering
over it. I usually had a small headache at least every day or every other day.
"Well, that's good," he said.
"Why do you think, though?" I asked. "That I haven't had one?"
"Fresh air. Hard work. No junk food. Maybe."
"I bet so," I said, in agreement. "And being away from stupid school helps, too."
Brian's eyes flicked over me. He said, "Hmm," sort of low.
"I hate it," I said.
"You never hated school," Brian said. "Not like Evan and Daniel did. You've always enjoyed it."
"Well, I'm not enjoying it now," I said.
Without saying anything more, Brian stood up, sort of abruptly, and began to gather up our trash and supplies that needed to go
back into the grub bag. I took it as a sign that he was intent to get back to work. Lunch was over. Still, the way he did it so abruptly,
without saying anything, made me wonder. I gave him a curious look as I helped to pick things up.
We mounted and headed back to work. Brian acted as normal after that, and we worked together smoothly. I was truly tired, though, to
my very bones. I was drinking water like crazy, and ate an afternoon snack of nuts and wheat crackers.
While he was tightening a strand of wire, it popped loose, and I heard Brian swear under his breath.
"Did it get you?" I asked immediately, with concern, preparing to head to him, from where I was standing, holding onto the other end.
"It's alright. Stay there. Keep holding," he said.
Brian used his fence pliers to splice the wire, and then when we were closer, I saw the blood dripping onto the ground.
His shirt was torn, on the upper back side of his arm.
"You're bleeding," I said, unnecessarily.
"It's alright."
I rolled my eyes without him seeing. Cowboys.
As soon as we were to a stopping point, I went without saying anything to Buck, and found the small first aid kit we always carried
on trips like this.
I came back over with the kit and also a canteen of water.
"Here," I said, handing him his canteen.
"Thanks." He took it and downed a drink.
"Sit down," I said, pointing to a nearby log, and waving the first aid kit at him.
"We'll get to it here in a bit," Brian said.
I gave him a 'you're kidding' sort of a look. "If it was me, would you let me wait a bit?"
Brian met my eyes, and I took my advantage. "Sit down," I told him.
Brian gave a low chuckle, and then sat down on the log, taking off his outer shirt so I could reach the wound better. The blood had
already stained his white undershirt.
I cleaned the wound, and put on some antibiotic ointment, and then wrapped clean white gauze around his arm.
"Is your tetanus shot up to date?" I asked, as I worked on him.
"Yes, ma'm," he said, sounding amused.
"Probably Clare should look it tomorrow when we get home," I said.
"Yep."
"There," I said, when I'd finished, and patted his arm. I put things back into the first aid bag.
When I'd done that, and looked up, Brian was watching me. He didn't look amused, now, though. More serious. Contemplative.
"You're a good kid, Harlie," he said.
I felt a spurt of pleasure wash over me. That he should say that, just out of the blue, made me feel good.
I met his eyes. "Thanks," I said, and smiled at him.
Still looking serious, Brian said, "You've lost your way a little bit, though."
My smile fell away at that, and the warm feeling shriveled.
"I'm trying," I said. I felt stiffened up, in my feelings, and picked up the kit, preparing to walk back to Buck and get away from that
searching expression on his face.
"There you go," Brian said, and I paused to look at him again.
"What?"
"There you go," he said again. "When somebody says something you don't like, then you're ready to call the conversation over. You won't even listen."
I stood there, stiffly. "I listen to you guys. I listen to all of you. And sometimes it seems like there's a hundred of you!"
For a moment or so, Brian looked surprised. Disconcerted.
Then he got to his feet, rubbing his hand on his jeans. He nodded. "I imagine so." His eyes swept over me. "Let's work now. We can talk later."
I nodded, but under my breath, I said, "Oh, joy."
7