Her Cowboy Soldier. Cindi Myers

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СКАЧАТЬ help, drove the herd through open gates onto the highway, which had to be closed for the purpose. In a parade of cows, horses, ATVs and ranch dogs, all led by county sheriff SUVs with their lights flashing, they traveled a mile down the highway to gates leading to other pastures that fed onto high ground watered by winter snows. The cows would spend the summer in these lush pastures, then the whole process would be reversed in the fall.

      The operation required precision, coordination and a little luck to run smoothly, but it was one everyone on the ranch looked forward to.

      “Your mom tells me you got corralled into chaperoning the prom this year,” Mitch said to Josh.

      “I did.” He’d planned to dress as he did for class, in a plain shirt and khaki trousers, but his mother had insisted he wear a suit and tie or she’d never be able to hold her head up in town again.

      “You couldn’t pay me enough to spend the night in a gym full of teenagers,” his dad said.

      “The prom isn’t at the gym. It’s in the ballroom, upstairs at the Opera House.” The Hartland Historical Society had restored the old Daniels Opera House five years previous, including redoing the upstairs ballroom, which hosted various community events.

      “I guess that’s better than having all those kids drive into the city for their party. Where did they have it when you were in school?”

      “The Bellflower Hotel.”

      Mitch shook his head. “I’d forgotten all about that place.”

      “It burned down the summer after my prom, so mine was the last class to celebrate there.” Josh had taken Sarah McKenzie as his date. She’d broken up with him a week later and had eventually married an accountant she met in college. They lived over in Durango, according to a letter that had gone out for their tenth high school reunion while Josh was over in Iraq.

      The men grew quiet again. Ben and Tomas moved away to smoke, leaving Josh and his dad alone, the silence stretching awkwardly between them. For all the angry words they’d exchanged over the years, simple conversation came harder, as if neither was quite sure what to make of the other.

      “So, you liking teaching?” his dad asked after a while.

      “Yeah, I like it. The kids are interesting. Good kids, most of them.”

      “I never figured you for a teacher. I always thought you wanted to be a rancher.”

      Josh told himself that wasn’t a note of accusation in his dad’s voice. “Most ranchers these days have day jobs, don’t they?” he said.

      Mitch nodded. “A lot of them. I’ve always managed without that, though your mom worked at the bank for a while.”

      Josh remembered those years, the house empty when he got off the school bus in the afternoons, his mom at the bank and his dad working on the ranch. He hadn’t minded having the house to himself for those few hours, hadn’t even minded starting dinner and doing the chores his mom assigned him. But his father had minded. Mitch’s pride had suffered from knowing his wife had to work to support the ranch. The day cattle prices rose enough to cover their debts without her salary, he’d ordered her to give up her job, and she’d done so, though Josh sometimes wondered if she missed that taste of independence.

      But she was the daughter of a rancher. She’d been raised to support the family business, and doing anything different may never have crossed her mind.

      “Shipping the calves is always easier than handling the steers.”

      The sudden shift of topic didn’t surprise Josh. His dad was always most comfortable talking about the ranch. About work. Mitch removed his hat and ran his thumb along the worn leather band. “That’s my least favorite job, shipping them, not to mention giving such a big cut to the feedlot.”

      “I’ve been reading about these new portable operations,” Josh said. “They bring everything right to the ranch in an eighteen-wheeler. The ranchers come together in a co-op and own the unit, so they cut out the middleman. They get a bigger cut of the profit and it’s less stressful on the cattle—more humane.”

      “Yeah, I’ve heard about those. But they sound way too expensive to me. And what do you do if the thing breaks down?” He replaced his hat on his head. “Time to get back to work.”

      Josh clenched his teeth, swallowing angry words. Did his dad dismiss all his ideas simply because they came from Josh? He pretended to want his son’s help with the ranch, but had never once implemented any idea Josh brought to the table, or even seriously considered them. Josh didn’t know why he bothered to keep trying.

      He swung up into the saddle, struggling to control the skittish horse. The rest break hadn’t done anything to calm Pete. The animal sidestepped as they neared the pen, where Josh’s job was to help usher the next batch of calves driven by Ben and Tomas into the chute.

      “It’s okay, boy,” Josh crooned soothingly. “Everything’s all right.” He leaned forward to run a gentling hand along the gelding’s neck, but forgot he no longer had a hand. As soon as the metal of the hook touched the horse’s flesh, it panicked, twisting and bucking as it fought to rid itself of this alien rider.

      Josh fought to stay with the horse, but felt himself slipping, falling. He kicked free of the stirrups and covered his head as he hit the ground, facedown. Sharp pain cut through his body as a trio of calves raced over him, their fright fueled by the horse’s antics.

      “Son, are you all right?” Firm hands gripped his shoulder and turned him to his side. He looked up into his father’s pale face. “Don’t move. Let me check you out.”

      “I’m okay.” He pushed aside his father’s probing fingers and staggered to his feet, brushing dirt and muck from his clothes. He’d feel the bruises tomorrow, but nothing was damaged, except his pride.

      “You’re done here today,” his father said. “Get on up to the house and get those cuts seen to.”

      Josh wiped his hand across the side of his face and realized he was bleeding from a gash there and another on his arm. “Take the ATV,” his dad said. “Tomas will bring Pete back.” Ben held the horse a little ways from them. The animal stood, legs splayed, glaring at Josh.

      Josh started to argue that he could stay and keep working, but what would be the point? He was acutely aware of the others’ eyes on him, the hands’ expressions guarded, his father’s scrutiny equal parts concern and annoyance. Mitch saw Josh as a liability. Someone to be looked after, who couldn’t be trusted to do a man’s work.

      Josh retrieved his hat from the dirt and stalked to the ATV. Thankfully, it started with no problem, and he gunned it away from the holding pens. But instead of heading to the house, he set off on a faint track to his favorite spot on the ranch. He left the dust and commotion around the shipping pens and headed across a series of low hills toward a distant knot of trees.

      As the noise of bawling calves, clanging gates and shouting men receded, Josh’s shoulders began to relax, and he eased his grip on the ATV’s throttle. He reached a grove of scrub oak and cottonwood alongside a wide spot in the creek that was out of sight of any of the buildings on the ranch, sheltered in the lee of a hill dotted with wildflowers and sage. As a boy, Josh had spent hours here, fishing, swimming, reading favorite books or simply staring out at the land.

      By the time he parked СКАЧАТЬ