11. Ty
Chapter 11
Ty
B y the time the flatbeds were full of hay bales, it was well past noon, and Ty’s stomach, apparently already used to regular meals, was growling.
“There’s no way we’ll make it back to the valley by two,” said Gabe. “And we can’t make the cooks wait to serve lunch for everybody else.”
He pulled out his cell phone. “Hang on. Let’s figure something out.” After a few moments, he put the cell phone in his back pocket and said, “Looks like we’re getting lunch in Chugwater.”
A roar of approval went up, and Ty caught Hudson’s gaze as he was shaking his head. It was hard to forget that on the chain gang, if you went over the lunch hour without eating because your work detail was way out in the boonies, then too bad for you. The food was awful, and you were going to miss out on getting any of it, anyway.
This wasn’t how it went when you were working out your parole in the valley, though. Lunch in Chugwater meant stopping at a place called the Stampede Saloon, a comfortable western-themed bar, which, evidently, served breakfast and lunch, when it wasn’t pouring whiskey and handing out cold beers after the sun went down. And while they were a rowdy crowd, no fights broke out, and nobody stabbed anybody.
Ty snagged a seat next to Hudson, grabbed a menu from the pile the waitress had left, and poked Hudson with his elbow.
“Isn’t this amazing?” he asked. “Look where we are.”
When Hudson didn’t answer, he bumped his elbow even harder.
“Damn it, Ty,” growled Hudson, his brow furrowing like Ty had really pissed him off. But Ty knew better.
“Look,” he said, pointing to the glossy menu. “Fish and chips. I haven’t had that in ages.”
“Fine,” said Hudson. “Quit pestering me.”
Both of them ordered the fish and chips, and together they enjoyed vinegar and salt, and used plenty of napkins.
The meal might have softened Hudson, or maybe just time had done it, time away from the hardship of their former life, because he offered up his key fob so someone else could drive for a while and sat in the truck bed with Ty on the ride back to the valley.
They sat across from each other, legs stretched out, half woven together, Hudson’s leg, then Ty’s, then Hudson’s, then Ty’s. Like they meant to be connected that way in case they went over a bump and needed to stabilize each other.
Bits of hay flew around in wild circles above their heads as the truck barreled down the highway. They had to hold their cowboy hats in their laps so they didn’t lose them.
Hudson had gotten a sunburn across his cheeks, a gentle glow from a day spent out of doors. The smallest of smiles played across his wide mouth. It was as if the activity and the sunshine and the impromptu lunch in a saloon had broken through, at least a little way, to a point where Hudson could find a bit of happiness.
All the while, Hudson looked at Ty from beneath half-lowered lids. Like he didn’t want Ty to know he was looking.
Hudson’s smile was sweet and seemed to reach his eyes. Ty took in a breath, struck by the desire to see more of that smile. To feel Hudson’s heartbeat as he fell asleep in those arms. Not just one night, but many, many nights.
His mind told him that Hudson wouldn’t allow any of this. At the end of summer, Hudson would go his way, and Ty would be left standing alone.
Still.
Hudson gently kicked his ankle.
“What?” asked Ty.
Hudson said something, but the wind took it, the wind and the bright blue sky overhead.
Ty leaned forward, curious as hell to hear what Hudson had to say.
“ What ?”
“You’re strong for someone so slender,” roared Hudson, as though impulse had taken over, as if being in the back of a truck with the wind in their ears had made him bold.
Ty didn’t quite know how to respond to that. Saying thank you didn’t quite cut it, and replying in kind and comparing Hudson to a steadfast oak tree would probably make Hudson regret he’d said anything at all.
He could answer, I’ve got more where that came from or Chain gangs will do that to you , but as he floundered about for something sassy to say, he saw Hudson’s smile widen. As if he knew how what he’d said had affected Ty.
There they were, sitting across from each other, their booted feet touching, and all Ty could do was look at Hudson’s smile and think himself a lucky man to be getting even that much.
Yes, his life had taken a good turn the day a woman from town had driven out to where the chain gang was and seen all the battered men working in one hundred-degree heat with no water or shade. Shoveling gravel until they collapsed. Getting kicked in the side and getting up again to keep going.
Ty had never found out just who it had been who’d raised the alarm and brought Mr. Baine’s whole system of cruelty crashing around his ears, but he knew he would not forget the expression of the woman who’d driven up and gotten out of her car, carefully coiffed hair swirling in the hot breeze, her mouth open with astonishment.
He suspected the woman had been the wife of one of the guards, or a reporter. Or something. And that it’d been her who’d sounded the alarm, because not two hours later, they’d been surrounded by paddy wagons, an ambulance, three state trooper SUVs, and two guys in dark suits who’d gotten out of an unmarked dark car.
One of those men had walked directly up to Mr. Baines, like he’d known him forever, confident and smooth. Then before Mr. Baines could so much as object, well, he never saw it coming, he had been clapped in handcuffs and taken away not two minutes later.
Every convict on the chain gang had stood stock still until one of the state troopers made them line up. Totally used to following orders without question, Ty got in line, sweat drying on him, three days’ worth of dust and dirt clinging to him.
When Ty got to the front of the line, he found out what was going on. They took his temperature with a forehead thermometer and asked questions of him that he could barely answer. You’re overheated. You’re dehydrated. Can you walk?
Ty could walk just fine, if it meant getting the hell out of the blazing heat and endless work. Once in the paddy wagon, he was given a bottle of water and a small baggie of salty nuts.
“Eat those slow,” someone said. “Drink that. You’re fine. You’re safe now.”
Ty’s hand had shaken as he’d brought the bottled water to his mouth and drank half of it in one gulp. The paddy wagon’s doors were shut, and he was given more water to drink and then some orange slices, of all things, which were so sweet and cool, he almost died with pleasure. That had been the first inkling that this rescue was for real and that his future was about to change.
The two days he’d spent at Wyoming Correctional in isolation for observation were a blur, but the second he arrived in the valley, he’d been getting more signals that a good life was coming, and this was just the latest in a pile of good things.
Him sitting across from this handsome man. The sun on their shoulders, wind in their hair. A good ache in his muscles from a morning’s work.
And now, with his belly full, he found he was totally relaxed. If he’d been sitting next to Hudson, he could have put his head on Hudson’s shoulder, in spite of any gruff objections, and taken a little snooze.
He smiled at the thought of it and smiled even wider when Hudson scowled at him.
When they arrived at the valley, coming along a side road rather than down the switchbacks, they parked the trucks next to the paddock. There, a hay-strewn blank area showed where the newly arrived bales of hay should be stacked. All the parolees and team leads joined them to help, and it wasn’t too long before the bales were tied down with a large tarp, ready to be used when needed.
As the men seemed to be heading in different directions, Ty wasn’t sure where he was supposed to be. Hudson, seeming equally indecisive, stayed at his side.
Then a dark-haired man with strong features and a blazing smile came up to him. He was all dressed for riding in a cowboy hat and boots, and before Ty could tell himself not to hope, the man said, “Hi, I’m Zeke. You’re Ty, right?”
“Yes, sir,” said Ty. Hope rose inside of him like silvery bubbles.
“We’ve got a little time before dinner,” said Zeke. “I don’t suppose you need lessons, because your file says you actually rode horses and worked with cattle, but I like to do a little evaluation so I know what kind of horse might suit you. Interested?”
“Yes, sir,” said Ty, almost rising up on his toes. “And Hudson, too.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Hudson.
“Come on,” said Ty, pleading. “It’ll be fun, you’ll see.”
“No,” said Hudson.
“Let’s go get our boots,” said Ty. To Zeke, he said, “We’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here,” said Zeke.
“I told you no,” said Hudson, when Ty tugged on his shirt sleeve.
“You’ve got the boots and the hat,” said Ty, not letting go. “Why not give it a try?”
Somehow, he was able to make Hudson give in without another word. Besides, it was a pleasure back at their tent to watch Hudson grumpily take off his work boots and slide on the hickory-colored Tecovas.
When he stood up, he looked ten feet tall. Being a cowboy would have suited Hudson far better than being a wheelman, that was for sure.
“Let’s go,” said Ty. “C’mon, hurry. We don’t want Zeke to grow tired waiting for us.”
“That’s his job,” said Hudson in a dismissive tone. But he trotted behind Ty as Ty led the way along the path to the paddock, cowboy hat in hand.
Zeke met them at the paddock with a smile and a welcoming gesture. Two horses were tied to the railings. Two saddles and two blankets had been slung over the railing next to them, along with a bucket of grooming tools, and Ty felt as though he’d landed in heaven.
“Show me what you can do,” said Zeke.
Ty knew what to do, smiling the whole while. He slipped between the rails and picked the smaller horse, a sweet little mare with a black coat, and a white blaze down her nose.
“That’s Masie,” said Zeke. “The other one is Jigsaw.” Jigsaw was a chestnut gelding with sprinkles of rust around his fetlocks, as though he’d walked through red clay.
Quickly, feeling as though he were on fire, Ty groomed Masie, and then looked over at Hudson who, while he’d come into the paddock the way Ty had, wasn’t moving to groom Jigsaw.
“C’mon, Hudson, it’ll be fun, I promise,” Ty begged.
Zeke stepped in to help Hudson, and Ty turned back to Masie, grooming and saddling her up for his first ride in over two years.
As he mounted, he felt as though he’d grown wings. It was hard to keep his cool, but he did his best as he gathered Masie’s reins and set her on a gentle walk around the paddock.
He could feel Zeke watching him out of the corner of his eyes as he helped Hudson saddle and mount Jigsaw.
For a moment, Ty closed his eyes and concentrated on the horse’s rhythm, the clink of bridle, the squeak of leather. Happiness ran through him, as if this moment was the reward for surviving two years in prison for no reason.
“Do you want to go for a canter?” asked a voice.
Ty’s eyes flew open. Zeke had managed to get Hudson going on a slow walk on Jigsaw, though Hudson looked totally unhappy about it, and now Zeke was standing in the middle of the paddock.
“Take her out to the pasture. The horses are all at the far end of the field, in the shade,” said Zeke. “Keep it gentle and don’t run those horses up against the fence, okay?”
“You got it,” said Ty, his mouth watering as he took in the wide pasture of long, green grasses edged with the shadow of pine trees.
Zeke opened the paddock to give Ty free access to a pasture that looked like it went on and on. He couldn’t see any horses anywhere, but he sure was going to take care that he didn’t spook them.
With a little nudge, Ty sent Masie trotting into the pasture, into the sunshine-filled expanse. He leaned forward, thighs feeling tight. He clucked with his tongue, and then she was trotting and then cantering, a long, slow movement that felt like she’d turned into silk beneath the saddle.
With a laugh, he patted her, and she flicked her dark, pointed ears at him. It was like being set free, the cage door open at last. He circled the pasture twice, always at a canter, then headed back to the paddock, pulling her to slow, then to a stop. With a flourish, he dismounted, the slick new soles of his cowboy boots causing him to slip a little, but it was marvelous.
Hudson, on the other hand, half hunched over and gripping the reins like a lifeline, looked miserable.
Zeke had been at Jigsaw’s head as he walked, with Hudson hanging on to the saddle horn. All three stopped as Ty led Masie into the paddock.
“How did you do that?” asked Hudson, straightening up. “How do you know how to do that?”
“He rode the range,” said Zeke. “For the Diamond Bar Diamond, up on the Wyoming-Nebraska border, right?”
“That’s right, sir,” said Ty, giving Masie another pat as he wondered where the horse treats were.
“The owner has some mighty fine cattle, as I recall,” said Zeke. “Very particular as to how they were processed.”
“Yes, sir, he is,” said Ty.
He began to unsaddle Masie, then realized that neither Zeke, nor Hudson, nor Jigsaw had moved.
“Do me a favor?” asked Zeke. “Could you lead Jigsaw around so I can get a better view of Hudson in the saddle?”
“Yes, sir,” said Ty. He didn’t smile as he exchanged Masie’s bridle for a green halter, then pulled the water bucket close so she could drink out of it. Nor did he smile as he walked over to Jigsaw and took the reins from Zeke.
He didn’t want Hudson to think Ty was going to tease him for not being able to ride. Some people didn’t, and that was that. When Zeke stepped into the center of the paddock, Ty began to walk Jigsaw in a circle.
Ty looked up at Hudson. “Take a deep breath,” he said. “Feel the rhythm of his walk. It’s gentle and slow.”
“It’s too damn high up,” said Hudson.
“I won’t let you fall,” said Ty. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Hudson looked down at him, his dark eyes serious. “You told me you were a cowboy,” he said. “But I didn’t realize how good.”
“It feels like a long time ago that I was,” said Ty, not bothering to hide the sadness in his voice. “I missed it. Couldn’t talk about it, I loved it so much.”
Hudson nodded, then focused his attention on how he was sitting and straightened up. Let go of the saddle horn, and let his left hand fall to his thigh, his right more secure on the reins.
“Just don’t let him gallop off,” said Hudson.
“I won’t,” said Ty. “I won’t.” He promised this with all of his heart, on account of how Hudson was being so brave.