Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DEVIN
I stifle a yawn as I make my way down the stairs from my room on Saturday to help Zane get the horses ready.
I’m usually an early riser, but I missed one bus back from Sacramento last night and the next one was delayed.
I thought I might not make it at all. It was fully dark by the time I made the mile walk up from Foggy Basin to the farm, then I couldn’t sleep, which again isn’t normally a problem.
But I’m about to head off for a few days to god knows where, on a horse I’ve ridden exactly four times and fallen off once, with a guy who doesn’t like me.
Though I’m not so sure about that last point anymore.
He seems to be slowly thawing toward me.
He seems to have softened and smiles more often, though haven’t witnessed another bout of his beautiful laughter.
Perhaps I need to fall off more often. No, scrub that, my shoulder has only just stopped hurting.
I missed the bus yesterday as I wanted to get it checked out, and then I treated myself to a massage.
I’m definitely going need another one when I get back.
Zane is his usual straightforward self, a man of few words. After greeting me, he only says enough to tell me what needs passing. I find it almost comforting as I start to wake up properly. Eventually, we lead the horses out into the yard.
“Hold on.” He hands me the reins of all the horses and disappears toward the house. He returns with Nova in tow and a cowboy hat in his hands, even though he has one on his head.
Nova walks straight up to the packhorse. He’s pretty, with creamy-colored hair and brown patches. Nova strokes his nose.
“You’ll be a good boy, won’t you, Rainbow? I’ll see you soon.”
“Is that his name? Rainbow?” I ask, and Nova grins at me.
“Yes, Bonnie’s his mom, but I named him myself.”
“Here, you’ll need this.” Zane hands me the hat and I put it on.
“Do I look like a proper cowboy now?” I ask, and Nova giggles.
“It looks perfect, though a few rhinestones wouldn’t hurt,” Nova replies, and I swear I see Zane roll his eyes. That’s a first.
“It’s for keeping the sun off you. I don’t want you keeling over from sunstroke before we’ve even got there,” Zane says gruffly.
“But I guess it’s okay once we’ve arrived.” I wink at Nova who giggles again, making Zane’s face darken even more.
“C’mon, we need to get going,” he almost snaps, and swings himself into Blackwing’s saddle. I mount too, and we’re just about to leave when Arlene comes running out of the house.
“Is it Dad, is he okay?” Zane asks as she reaches us, pausing to catch her breath.
“Yes, he’s fine, but here’s a little something for you both.” She tucks a package into one of the bags attached to Rainbow and steps back.
“Have fun. I’m so jealous I’m not going with you,” Nova calls as we ride out of the yard and toward the hay fields.
They’re large, but eventually we leave them behind.
Zane doesn’t speak; clearly something’s wrong this morning.
I thought he’d stopped being so prickly toward me, but maybe I was wrong.
It feels oppressive, like a heavily cloud-laden sky, not quite ready to rain.
I’m not looking forward to spending the next few days with him in this mood.
I’d rather the storm break sooner so I can ride back while I still know the way.
“Are you alright?” I ask.
‘I’m fine,” Zane replies through gritted teeth, but he continues on the same. I try again.
“I see the rod is firmly wedged back up your ass again.” Maybe not the smartest move, but I need to get some sort of reaction.
He whips his head round so fast his horse sidesteps, but of course it doesn’t unseat him like it would me.
“Is that what you think of me?” he asks, and I shrug.
“A little.”
He walks a few more paces and then lets out a big sigh. Which is good, I think.
“I’m worried,” he says eventually. “I thought my dad and Nova would be fine, but I’m not so sure. My dad’s worse than last year, and the feed store is a big responsibility.”
This makes sense, and I’m kinda glad I’m not the cause.
“Arlene is there for your dad, and Nova’s a grown man. He’s more than capable of looking after the feed store.”
“Yes, I know. But I still worry,” he sighs.
“Well, of course you do. It shows you care.”
“Thank you,” he says, looking slightly more relaxed than he has all morning.
“There’s nothing you can do now, so you might as well enjoy this trip.”
He nods but he doesn’t look that convinced.
“And if anything happens, they can call you.” I try to reassure him.
“There’s no cell coverage out here,” he says.
“What?”
“You can’t use your phone out here. The coverage stops around the end of the hay fields.”
“No phones at all?”
“Nope.”
“I told my family where I’m going, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t be contactable for a few days.”
“Will they worry?” he asks, and I think it through. I normally chat with my brothers every day in our message group. But they do know about the trip, so they’ll probably figure it out and not worry too much.
“I don’t think they’ll get the local police to come knocking on your door to see if you’ve abducted me,” I reply, and he huffs a little laugh, which is a pleasing sound after the tension of the morning.
“So I guess I’ll just have to not worry and enjoy myself as well,” I say, and I nearly get a smile. It’s a start.
The landscape gradually changes, as the flat plains give way to more broken ground.
It becomes more rugged, rockier and wilder.
We also start climbing higher out of the valley Foggy Basin sits in.
The mountain range, which is just a smudge in the distance when viewed from the farm, starts to take shape as we get closer.
I hear the sound of a bird and look up to see a huge eagle above us. It’s beautiful in a wild way.
“You have such big skies over here. It’s one of the reasons I left England,” I say.
“Don’t you have sky over there, then?” I look over at Zane’s slight smirk. He needs to work on his jokes, but he probably doesn’t get much practice. I’ll take them if he looks like that, though.
“Of course we do,” I scoff, and his lips stretch properly into a smile. One that lifts his whole face.
“But apart from in a few isolated places, there are too many things to break up the eyeline. Towns and houses and hills. It feels claustrophobic. But out here in the US . . . I can fill my lungs and breathe.”
“I feel the same way when I’m out in the field cutting the hay. Just me and the mower for hours.”
“I get that. Also, your mower is impressive,” I can’t help saying. With its high cab and wide cutters, it looks like something from another world.
“You think so?” He looks genuinely surprised.
“I like big machines. It’s why I wanted to be a truck driver, behind the wheel of a big rig. there’s something about the size and power of them.”
“Yeah, with nothing to do but spend hours driving.” He agrees, and I guess spending hours in the field is like miles on the road.
I glance over at him and he’s looking at me strangely. Maybe because for once we have something in common. Then he goes and ruins it.
“But of course, you can go wherever you want. You have the freedom to get up and leave.” His voice holds a hint of judgement.
“Yeah. I guess so,” I agree, and he falls silent for a minute. I hope he’s not going to get all stiff and closed off from me again.
“How many states have you seen?” he asks, surprising me again.
“Around thirty, I guess. At least, it was the last time I counted.”
“I’ve never been out of Cali,” he says.
“What? Never?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“Everything I need is right here. I have no need to leave,” he says tightly.
“You know you don’t have to leave permanently. You can come back. But can’t you go sightseeing or on holiday?”
“I don’t have time for holidays,” he replies in a flat voice, and I don’t know what to say to that. I can only feel sorry that he doesn’t seem to have experienced much life out of the valley.
Again we fall into silence. It’s not as cloying as before, but I don’t know how to break it. Or even if I should. We’ve probably talked more this morning than we have in the last three weeks.
“Have you seen Mount Rushmore?” he says suddenly.
“Yeah.”
“I’d quite like to see that,” he says wistfully.
“I hope you do one day,” I reply truthfully.
I hope he manages to get the chance to live a little.
He asks me a few questions about some of the places I’ve seen as we ride along, and talk becomes easier for us.
We don’t stop for lunch. Instead, Zane passes me a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of water as we reach the foothills of the mountain range.
We ride down a small canyon and up the other side.
It’s steep, and the horses slip a little on the loose stones.
Zane’s right that wagons would never have made it this far.
“This used to be a creek bed, but it dried up years ago. That’s why it’s important to maintain the well,” Zane explains.
The rocks get bigger, and instead of all the scrub there are pockets of wooded areas.
I can almost imagine the mountain lions and bears Nova joked about.
I hope he was joking anyway. We round a small headland and I can see a river in the distance.
Next to it, nestled at the base of a rocky cliff face, is a small wooden cabin.
“That’s it,” Zane says, gesturing toward the building. It’s like every remote cabin I’ve seen in the movies. Small and squat with a covered porch running along the whole front of it. Beyond, I can see another wooden building, which Zane leads us toward. He stops and jumps down from Blackwing.
“Be careful, you might find your legs are wobbly for a while after being in the saddle for so long,” he warns, as I inelegantly climb down from Bonnie.
He’s not wrong, and I hold onto her saddle for a minute while my legs solidify from the jelly they’ve become.
Once they feel normal again, I shake them to ease the stiffness that’s starting to take over.
“I’m gonna be all kinds of sore tomorrow, aren’t I?” I ask as I lead Bonnie into the building, which turns out to be a barn.
“Probably,” he says with a slight chuckle.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He doesn’t answer but gives me a smirk over the top of his saddle.
We unsaddle the horses and unload the saddle bags and tools, then he shows me to a small well just outside the barn and shows me how to pump water for the horses.
“Is this what we’ve come all the way for?” I eye the very unimpressive well. I’m seriously underwhelmed.
“No, the other one is beyond the cabin, closer to the river.”
Once the horses have had their fill of water, we leave them with some feed and carry the saddlebags over to the cabin. Zane opens the door, and apart from a layer of dust and slightly stale air from not being used, it doesn’t look too bad.
It’s smaller than my room back above the barn. To one side is a large range for heating and cooking. Beyond there are a few cupboards and a table and chairs which serve as a kitchen area. In front of the range are two comfortable looking easy chairs. I swing my gaze to the other half of the cabin.
“Err, Zane. There appears to be only one bed.”