The Cowboy and the Hacker (Farthingdale Valley #5)

21. Zeke

Chapter 21

Zeke

W hen he woke, Cal was still in his arms, pressed close like a starfish to a rock. The rock being himself and Cal’s arms, starfish limbs, the warmth between them growing, pleasant and slow, with no urgency to get up and get to work.

Zeke didn’t regret his gesture from the night before, and he knew he never would. He’d slept better than he had in ages, every muscle relaxed, his limbs tangled with Cal’s. Cal was still asleep, snoring softly, his hair silky against Zeke’s arm.

But the sun was up and they needed to get ready for the mustang handlers to arrive. He wasn’t sure if they were going to attempt to take the ponies out on a string, or if they had managed to trench a path so they could come and take the mustangs by trailer. Either way, he and Cal needed to be up and ready to assist.

“Hey, sleepy one,” Zeke half-whispered, imagining he could brush a kiss against that dark blond hair, and greet Cal to wakefulness that way.

He resisted that impulse and brushed his thumb across Cal’s cheek. His bear scare fell back on his wrist as he did it again and waited until Cal’s eyes blinked slowly open.

“You didn’t get eaten by a bear,” said Zeke. “And the river didn’t wash us away.”

“Nope.” Cal smiled up at him, his blue eyes gentle and sleepy.

“How about you and I get dressed, wash our faces in the river, and check on the horses?”

“Okay.”

It was easy to move into the day with Cal at his side, feeling focused and relaxed at the same time. It was hard to remember how he’d thought his stint in the Fresh Start Program would go, but it certainly wasn’t this, though this was certainly more enjoyable. Just Cal and him and the blue sky above them as they staggered out of the tent and got dressed, slid their boots on, rummaged around for hats and strode down to the river.

The sun made bright diamonds of the small ripples in the river, a bright breeze whispering through the trees, the cool air foretelling the arrival of what Zeke suspected was an afternoon storm. For now, they splashed their faces in the water, crouching low at the bank, and shared secret morning smiles.

“Let’s purify some water, check the fence to make sure it’s sound, treat our horses to some feed, and get a little coffee going.”

Cal was amenable to all these things, if his smile, and the way he stuck close, not just Zeke’s shadow but his companion, was anything to go by. The mustangs grazed in the once-tall grasses, drank in the river at the bottom of the fence line, and twitched their tails, giving the humans on the other side of the fence only a cursory notice.

The horses in the paddock, Flint, Applejack, and Dusty, were another story. They clamored for attention, for feed, buckets of water, and horse cookies, ears pricked, eyes bright.

“How about some breakfast?” asked Zeke.

Cal took off his cowboy hat and scrubbed at his hair, his smile wide as he looked at Zeke.

There were thoughts behind those big blue eyes that Zeke couldn’t even begin to comprehend, and imagined that if he could have traded his soul, he would ask for the moment by the river and the joy at the morning that arced between them to be captured forever.

Was this what love felt like? Or was he making a whole lot of stuff up to justify the fact that he wanted to draw Cal into his arms and kiss into the sweetness of Cal’s smile, and anticipate what might come at nightfall?

He shook his head, reset his cowboy hat on his head, a bit chagrined at those romantic thoughts when surely Cal wanted nothing of the kind.

He heated some water in a pot over the butane burner, and made them a quick breakfast of oatmeal and reconstituted blueberries, and tossed in some powdered milk to make it a bit more creamy. They ate by the vanishing warmth of the burner, shoveling the food in while Zeke boiled water for coffee.

“What’s that?” asked Cal. Sitting cross-legged, with his metal bowl balanced on one bent knee, he pointed across the river at a large brown shape snuffling in and out of the trees. “It’s a bear. Isn’t it a bear, Zeke?”

Zele had seen a few bears in his time, mostly at a distance. The first bear they’d seen on this trip had been headed away from them, but out here so far away from anywhere, this bear felt more like a danger to them.

“Let me get the rifle,” said Zeke, putting his bowl down and standing up.

“What? No!”

“I’m not going to shoot it,” said Zeke. “I’m going to use the scope to check it out, like I did the last one. If it tries to cross the river, I’ll shoot to scare it away. Only that. Just scare it away.”

His heart was pounding as he moved to the paddock to grab the rifle from its holster. He’d left it loaded, so now he cocked it and raised the scope to his eye.

In the shadow of the brim of his hat, the outline of the bear, each brown hair doused in sunshine and tossed by mountain breezes, came absolutely into focus.

The bear was foraging for its winter sleep, as the last one had been. It was a brown bear, so while it wasn’t a vegetarian, it ate berries and fish and small mammals. Not horses or humans. The bear was fat and sassy from its summer feeding, and powerful looking. It probably meant them no harm while it was focused on feeding. Still, Zeke didn’t want the horses or Cal to feel alarmed.

He kept the scope focused on the bear. When it turned downriver, in the direction of the mustangs, even though it was on the far side of the river, Zeke didn’t want it anywhere near their compound.

“Cover your ears,” said Zeke as he pulled back the bolt. Not because the rifle shot would be loud, but because it would be loud in contrast to the silence of the valley.

When Cal had his hands clapped over his ears, Zeke took aim upwind of the bear so the sound and the smell of the shot would have full effect and send the bear on its way. He pulled the trigger, felt the kickback in his shoulder, and kept looking through the scope.

The bear lifted its head and quickly ambled upstream, away from them. They had never been in danger, but when Zeke dropped the rifle, aimed at the ground, he was glad to see the look of relief on Cal’s face, as well as the complete lack of concern of the horses, both wild and domesticated.

“I, for one, could use some coffee,” said Zeke. “How about that?”

“Yeah,” said Cal.

While Zeke wiped down the rifle and tucked it away in its long leather holster, Cal raced to the burner, where the water was already at a boil. Zeke added freeze dried coffee and stirred it around, turning the burner off.

While they stood in front of the small burner waiting for the coffee to brew, Zeke felt his phone buzzing. For all that they were out in the middle of nowhere, he was pleased to see he had plenty of bars.

“Zeke Molloy here,” he said.

“Hey,” said a voice. “This is Arnie. I got Walt with me here. The BLM got a path dug so we can bring in a skinny trailer by truck. Not the huge rig as we’d thought, but this’ll do. It holds six, so we’ll make two trips.”

“Do you want help cutting the herd?” asked Zeke, thinking of how quickly they could saddle up.

“Naw, we’re good for that,” said Arnie. “Got any treats for the beasts to tame ‘em a little? We don’t want to do much but tag ‘em, so as to leave the wild in ‘em for the gals to tame ‘em.”

“Gals,” said Zeke, just as he remembered the program where young women took one hundred days to train mustangs and win awards and prizes. “Oh yeah. We’ve got cookies and some dense feed we can pass around. Will that do?”

“And water,” said Arnie. “They got to have water, so make sure they have access until we get there. I don’t want them thirsty on the trip.”

“You got it.”

Pleased, Zeke clicked the call shut, and smiled, thinking that this was a good day. The bear hadn’t attacked anyone, and the rescued mustangs would find good homes.

Plus, he had Cal right there, looking up at him with those blue eyes as if this was the best place on earth, the best day on the planet. The best thing ever . Making Zeke feel better than he had in a long, long time.

“We’re going to treat the mustangs to some cookies,” said Zeke, taking the last sip of his coffee. “The handlers will be here soon.”

It was mid-morning, under a sunny blue sky, when the single wide trailer trundled out of a gap on the far side of the valley. Zeke thought he’d been seeing things as he’d scattered the last of the horse cookies on the other side of the smart fence, but then he smelled the diesel fumes and saw all the horses looking in that direction.

He’d not much thought about where the outlet was from the road that had been washed out, but there it was on the far side of the valley, looking quite narrow. But the heavy duty truck was indeed coming in their direction, pulling a single-wide livestock trailer behind it. Slowly coming toward them across the grassy valley.

Had it rained, the mud might have slowed them down, but for now, the grasses waved as the truck neared. Until finally it stopped and a cowboy, rangy and thin, his clothes and hat looking dusty and lined, as if it, along with the cowboy, had seen a lot of action, jumped out of the passenger side.

“Walt?” asked Zeke with a wave.

“The same,” said Walt in the clipped voice of a man who had no need for wasted words.

“They’ve had access to water for twenty-four hours, all the horse cookies we had, and a bit of our special feed as well,” said Zeke.

“Good,” said Walt.

“What else can we help with?” asked Zeke.

He would be willing to mount up as soon as he was asked, except as he watched Arnie back up the trailer to the gate of the smart fence, he realized he better stand by as the more experienced hands did what they did best and guide the mustangs into the trailer.

He had to admit the roundup went more smoothly than he’d thought it would. Arnie and Walt ducked under the electric gate and waded into the group of mustangs, who weren’t quite sure what was going on. The men clipped cords around each mustang’s neck, complete with metal tag.

“We’ll brand ‘em later once the vet has checked them over,” said Arnie as Zeke and Cal watched the mustangs race around, stop, and race around, trying to avoid the cords and tags. “No point doing it here when they’re all rattled enough as it is by the transport.”

“This is cool, huh?” asked Cal, looking up at Zeke, his smile wide. “But I thought it would be more—” Cal spread his hands as if he couldn’t find the words he was looking for. “I dunno. More like a rodeo?”

“More rough,” said Zeke. “I did too, honestly. These mustangs are wild, but these men—” He paused to smile back at Cal. “These men know what they’re doing. You have to be tough around a mustang, but they’re as gentle as they can be. Firm, but gentle. They’re doing it just right.”

As the first trailer load of mustangs left, Zeke checked the other mustangs, and parsed out a bit more of the special feed.

They only had so much supplies to go around, and he wished he’d brought more so the domestic horses could have a treat on the way back down. Still, he’d make sure they got extra grooming and treats when they were back home in familiar surroundings, so he spread the rest of the feed and clicked at the orange mare with the narrow face as she bullied her way to the biggest pile.

“Good girl,” he said. “You look after these guys, okay?”

His throat closed up as he thought of them, these wild mustangs bound for stables and fields and even back yards. For the training they would receive and their new lives that would be miles away from anything that they had ever experienced.

“You okay, Zeke?” asked a voice as though from far away.

Zeke took off his hat and scrubbed at his eyes and swallowed hard. There was no shame in tears, but he couldn’t quite explain these. But maybe with the way Cal was looking at him, his eyes overly bright and glistening, he didn’t have to.

“It’s the horses,” Zeke said, blinking hard as he settled his hat. “I didn’t know I would be so moved at the sight of them going to new homes.”

“Me either,” said Cal, and the moment hung between them, the horses in the temporary pen, the green grass and slow river, the ridge-line above, all of it circling around them.

The truck came back in under an hour, which told Zeke there was another bigger trailer on the other side of the mudslide. Someone had thought ahead to make the journey as stress-free for the mustangs as possible, and as quick as possible.

Arnie and Walt tagged the orange mare with the narrow face and the other five rangy beasts, then loaded them into the narrow livestock trailer. But before they headed out, both men came to shake their hands.

“You saved these horses,” said Arnie, and Walt nodded. “An errand of mercy. Sure, the mustangs could have lasted a few days, but why put ‘em through that? Their lives have changed enough as it is.”

Those last words told Zeke that Arnie had, at least once or twice, become teary-eyed at the sight of all that wildness on the verge of being tamed.

“Well, we’re off,” said Arnie.

“Safe journey home,” said Walt, at last speaking his mind.

The men got in the truck and trundled slowly across the valley to the gap at the far side, and disappeared in a chuff of diesel smoke. Leaving Zeke and Cal all alone beneath the width of the sky, the sharpness of the mountains.

“Well, I reckon we better take that smart fence down so we can pack up and head home to the valley,” said Zeke, because, of course, that’s what made sense.

He’d never been a man of wild imaginings or fanciful thinking, so even though it might have been magical to stay one more night, they were duty bound to return as soon as they could. Chores and obligations awaited them both.

“Could we stay?” asked Cal. He’d lifted his chin, and the sunlight flared on his cheeks, though his eyes were in shadow.

“What?” asked Zeke. It was as if Cal had heard his thoughts and responded to them.

“We’ve got another pack or two of freeze-dried meals and coffee,” said Cal. “There’s plenty of grass for the horses, and water—” His eyes were enormous. “I’d give anything to stay one more night.” He gulped. “Please, can we stay?”

“Sure,” said Zeke. “One more night will be fine.”

He would look forward to the peace and the darkness. He’d have to hold his own desires in check for one more night, but there was no power on earth that could have made him say no to Cal.