The Cowboy and the Hacker (Farthingdale Valley #5)

16. Zeke

Chapter 16

Zeke

I t was right before breakfast that Zeke decided to have a chat with Gabe about the attitude and behavior of the majority of the parolees during riding lessons.

“They’re having a good time,” said Zeke. “And that’s fine. But they don’t focus, and they don’t seem to care.”

“What do you mean they don’t seem to care?” asked Gabe.

They were standing in the shade at the bottom of the steps to the mess tent. There was a soft breeze that indicated rain was coming.

It certainly smelled like rain, but Zeke hoped the rain would wait until nightfall, as it made the paddock muddy and lessons even more difficult than they already were.

“They’d rather take a swing at each other while on horseback than improve their neck reining technique. Cal is a big help, but it’s a wasted effort.” Zeke shook his head. “Oddly, there are three men who seem to want to learn, so maybe we should just focus on them.”

“Who, exactly?” asked Gabe.

“That’s Gordy, Toby, and Wayne,” said Zeke. With just three men in the lessons, the lessons would go better, and the men would learn more. Plus, Cal wouldn’t be run off his feet so much, with fewer men to assist.” He paused and said, “To be honest, I’ve been thinking that it’s not Galen who’s inadequate to the task of teaching riding lessons. It’s the men who aren’t interested. If we cut the lessons just down to those three, then Galen is the perfect teacher.”

Instead of answering, Gabe reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell, which must have been buzzing. Glancing at the phone, Gabe said, “Excuse me, it’s Leland. I should take this.”

Zeke waited as Gabe greeted Leland. All the while, he kept an eye out for Cal, who’d not yet shown up. Which was odd. Cal was usually right at Zeke’s heels, a comfortable, helpful shadow that Zeke was coming to rely on. Not just for his willing nature, but in other ways?—

“Let me ask Zeke,” said Gabe, and Zeke turned his attention from inner concerns to the matter at hand, which was whatever Leland wanted. “I’ll call you back.”

“What is it?” Zeke asked.

“There’s been a landslide just outside of Aungaupi Valley. Nobody was hurt, but the trucks and trailers can’t get in to haul out a herd of mustangs that were rounded up and left there for transport.”

“They’re mustangs,” said Zeke, not understanding the urgency in Gabe’s voice. “They’ll be fine.”

“They were put in a temporary pen ready for loading into the trailer,” said Gabe. “The hitch on the trailer broke and so they went to get a new one. Got the new one, but couldn’t get back because of a landslide. They don’t have access to food and water until someone lets them out of that pen.”

“How long would it take to clear?” asked Zeke, finally understanding the issue.

“They can’t tell me,” said Gabe. “And they can’t send men over the slide. It’s too dangerous. Plus, that’s high country. Bears. Mountain lions. The mustangs were to be delivered to the Wild Mustang Program.”

“Days,” said Zeke, half to himself.

He’d heard of the mustang program, and knew the benefits, both to horse and human. “You need someone to go up there. Let them out of the holding pen so they can get food and water. Someone to look after them until they’re able to be trailered out of there.”

“Exactly,” said Gabe. “It’s a day’s ride with rough camping. No reward for a job well done. Know anybody who’d be interested?”

Zeke smiled as he considered it, but he already knew the answer in his heart. If he’d felt a little lost since his accident, the last of that feeling vanished as he imagined that ride and the wide openness of Aungaupi Valley.

He’d never been that far into the mountains, but he’d heard about it from a fellow bronc rider who’d gone up there on a trail ride one summer, years before. Beyond beautiful , the bronc rider had said, and then added, It’s the kind of place that can set your soul free .

Zeke needed that. He wasn’t one to jump from post to post, but while he felt useful in the valley, something inside of him jumped up and down, eager to go.

“I’ll go,” he said.

“Let me call Leland back and tell him that you’ll go,” said Gabe. “He’ll send someone with the gear, and you can leave right after lunch. But you need to take someone with you. You can’t go alone into the wilderness.”

Considering this, Zeke watched Gabe hold up his phone and, just before Gabe dialed Leland’s number, he said, “Maybe take Cal.”

With a chin jerk, Gabe pointed at what he saw over Zeke’s shoulder.

When Zeke turned, he saw Cal coming up, looking washed out and tense, holding his cell phone in front of him like it was a brick he wanted to hurl far away and fast.

Of course, he would ask Cal to go with him. If Galen was taking over the riding lessons, then Cal might have to take up other tasks, perhaps with another team. Zeke didn’t want Cal on another team because what if the move was permanent?

“Everything all right, Cal?” he asked. When Cal didn’t answer, Zeke put his hand between Cal’s shoulder blades, a gesture of comfort, and realized that Cal was trembling. “Hey,” he said, then pointed to Cal’s phone. “Did you get bad news?”

“I’ll say—” said Cal, his face pale. He seemed on the verge of saying something else when he stopped. “Never mind. What did you need? Gabe said, Maybe Cal , so what did you need?”

“I need you to go with me.”

The words came out in a rush, almost unbidden. He’d meant to explain the situation to Cal and then ask him to go. Not say that he needed him to go. But he did. He needed Cal to go with him.

“Go?” asked Cal, his voice almost breaking on the word. “You want me to go with you? Where are we going?”

Zeke explained about the mustangs in the valley. How they needed to be released and watched over until the trailer could get there. How it was a day’s ride to the valley, and how they might not be back until early the following week.

With each word he spoke, Cal’s eyes got bigger and bigger. He held his phone between two palms as if the brick he’d been longing to hurl away only moments before had become a book of prayers.

“You want me to go with you?” Cal said, spots of color appearing on his cheeks. The scar beneath his eye stood out, a stark white line. “For a few days. Yes. Sign me up. When do we leave?”

“Right after lunch, or sooner if we can manage it,” said Zeke, more pleased than he thought he would be. “We’ll need to grab a shower, ‘cause there won’t be a chance until we get back. Then we’ll each pack up a horse with the gear, saddle up, and ride out.”

“Yes,” Cal nodded. “Guess I won’t take my phone with me.”

“I’ll take mine,” said Zeke. “And we’ll pack some walkie talkies, too, in case we need them.”

As they ate breakfast, a huge breakfast, and took showers, then met at the paddock, Zeke knew this trip, this break from his usual routine, was just what he needed.

Maybe Cal needed it as well, though he didn’t say as much. Still, he was Zeke’s shadow as they grabbed three horses out of the pasture and groomed and saddled two of them: Flint, a powerful gray horse flecked with white for Zeke to ride, and Applejack, a long legged and sturdy orange and white paint horse with a copper-red mane and tail, for Cal.

When Clay arrived from the guest ranch with camping gear, they put a sawbuck pack saddle on Dusty, who was the strongest horse of the three, and the most steady.

“Is there a cover for that pack saddle?” asked Zeke, as he checked the ropes on the panniers. “And Cal, don’t forget that other tent. Make sure it gets tied down properly.”

“Yes, sir,” said Cal, his head down as he checked the cinch on his own horse and paused to tug on his bear scare as he said, “I’m on it.”

This was freedom. As Zeke tied on the pack saddle cover and checked the balance, the weight on his shoulders felt like it was lifting off him.

Had he been so unhappy since the accident that the thought of spending three or four days of rough camping in the wilderness set him free?

As Cal came up to him, Zeke opened his mouth to express what he was feeling, but the words didn’t come, and it would probably come out in a confused muddle anyhow. The last thing Cal needed was to listen to Zeke’s problems.

“You all set?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” said Cal, but his smile belied the seriousness of his reply.

Zeke pulled out the topographical map and unfolded it and, shoulder to shoulder, they both looked at the map while Zeke traced their proposed path with his finger.

“We’re following the Yellow Wolf River,” he said. “It’ll take us the rest of the afternoon to get most of the way up the canyon. The way is narrow in spots, but Quint said that right around this curve in the canyon is a nice place to camp for the night. Then, in the morning, we’ll head on up to the Aungaupi Valley.”

“Are the mustangs going to be okay until then?” asked Cal.

“Yes,” said Zeke, quite firmly as folded the map and stuck it in the pocket of his jeans. “They were fed and watered this morning in preparation for being trailered out, so it’ll be less than twenty-four hours that they’ve been penned up.”

Zeke saw the worry in Cal’s eyes, not for himself, but for the mustangs.

“Mustangs are tough,” Zeke said, hoping his words were enough to reassure Cal. “They’ll weather this, and after, they’ll be given to some fine young ladies who will train them and take the best care of them, I promise.”

“Okay.”

Briefly looking Cal up and down, Zeke saw a young man who might very well be changed by their journey. And knew that he himself would also be changed. That’s what riding into the backcountry did to a man.

As he settled his straw cowboy hat on his head and pulled on his leather gloves, and watched Cal do the same, he said, “Let’s ride.”

They mounted their horses. Zeke took Dusty’s lead as his responsibility and also took the lead spot. Later, when they were well on their way and relaxed into the journey, Cal might like to take the lead.

Then, in the bright, sunshiny morning, they walked their horses across the compound to the wooden bridge that went over Horse Creek River. From the river they would follow the path beneath the curving river willows, and from there, they would head up the canyon along the Yellow Wolf River.

At the bridge, they were met by pretty much everyone, a gathering of men to wish them well, team leads and rough ex-cons, all with smiles on their upturned faces.

“If you see any hawks, will you take pictures?” asked Royce.

“Watch out for bears,” said Bede.

Surprisingly, Gabe met them with a rifle and holster, which he tied to Flint’s saddle.

“I don’t need that,” said Zeke, gently holding Flint still.

“It’s just a precaution,” said Gabe. “Bears aren’t quite headed into hibernation, so you might see them. And mountain lions, they’re known to have territory up in Aungaupi Valley.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” said Zeke. He was a good shot, but he’d never ridden with a rifle strapped to his saddle before. Still, it was better to be careful.

With a wave and a chorus of Good luck ringing in his ears, he guided Flint across the wooden bridge, and looked back as they entered the thicket of willows. The compound was framed by the green boughs, and Cal’s eyes beneath the brim of his straw cowboy hat were enormous.

What did Cal see that made him look so wide eyed and young? Sure, a journey like this would be something new, but it was new for Zeke as well. His soul felt like a blank slate upon which anything could be written.

Everything happened for a reason, it was said, so maybe his last disastrous ride had been a sign of sorts, the kind usually left by fairies in the old stories. Something his grandma might have told him about.

It took them about forty-five minutes of gentle riding along the willow-shaded path until they arrived at the Yellow Wolf River, which they would follow into the canyon. The sun was high above, which meant the canyon would be in shadow come sundown.

They needed to arrive at the wide place where the river water slowed into deep pools. That was the way Quint had described it to him. It’s a good source of water, Quint had said. Use the purifier, though, just to be on the safe side .

That water would be cold and it would probably taste better than any tap water. Pure and cold and still. His throat already ached for it.

“You okay back there, Cal?” he asked, knee-reining Flint to cross the shallow ford, going from sunshine to shadow and then back again.

“Yep,” said Cal.

Zeke looked over his shoulder at Cal astride Applejack. The horse’s copper red mane and tail, with just a flash in each, white as though touched by lightning, fluttered in the faint breeze. They made a pretty picture, the two of them, Cal riding so straight and tall, the horse stepping so carefully.

Even as Zeke watched, Cal’s expression had changed from one of overwhelm to wide-eyed-wonder, and Zeke smiled. There was nothing like plenty of fresh air and a lot of peace and quiet to settle a man. Nothing.