Chapter 8 Cal
EIGHT
CAL
Henry put his hand in mine as we headed for the largest of the barns on the ranch.
It felt odd walking with a child like this, but I was glad to be out of the house.
Meeting the family had been good in a way, but I hadn’t been able to decode the looks and subtext that seemed to fly around the table between my twin brothers and Amy.
I’d done my best to be a good guest by engaging with Jake and Brian and I had to admit that their lives were interesting.
If things had played out differently, would I have made a decent rancher or law enforcement officer?
It was hard to imagine. Both of those roles would require that I stay in one place, and that wasn’t for me.
Still, I could talk about and contemplate the “what-ifs.” Once again, I was thankful for the social skills my parents had instilled in me and the years of making conversation with strangers on the rodeo circuit.
Overall, brunch had gone…okay, even if Laura spent more time staring at her food than participating in the conversation. A couple times, I’d thought of asking her a question, but her shoulders had been up so tight against her ears that I’d decided not to risk making things more awkward.
Henry asking me to go see his horse was just the excuse I needed, and I was glad to be in the open air with my young companion.
I figured my outing with Henry reduced the stress for everyone by putting some distance between us.
While I’d been stunned when I’d met the Thornes and seen the resemblance between us, I’d at least known I was adopted.
For Brian and Jake… finding out they had an older brother they’d never even conceived of before must have been a shock.
“That’s the arena where I get to ride sometimes.” Henry pointed to a fenced area. “And behind those trees is a stream I like to wade in.”
“Any fish in that stream?” I asked.
“Uncle Brian says there are, but I’ve never caught any because I’m not pa…pa…”
“Patient?” I suggested, remembering what it was like to be a boy who never sat still long enough to let a fish eat the worm on the hook.
“Yeah, that’s the word Mom uses.” Henry gave a yank on my arm. “Through here.”
We ducked into the shade of the barn. I breathed in the familiar scent of horses, manure, and feed that gave me a contented, warm feeling.
I had been in any number of barns just like this one over the years, but I noted the Thorne ranch barn was organized and tidy.
I guessed that was Jake’s work. For the first time since my arrival at the ranch, the tension left my shoulders.
Only time would tell if the Thornes would ever really come to feel like family, but this felt like home.
“Here, let’s get some treats.” Henry took the lid off a wooden bin and handed me several pellets made from alfalfa and molasses. “The horses expect it.”
We worked our way down the stalls, giving treats and nose rubs to various horses. Henry made a point of introducing me to every horse, and I took the time to say hello and admire them. Good stock, all of them, and well cared for. “Where’s your pony?”
“King’s at the end of the row. Uncle Jake says I should pet all the horses, so none of ’em get jealous.”
“Your uncle is wise. Horses have feelings.” That was a lesson I had learned as a kid, too.
When we reached the dapple-gray pony, Henry fed him the last of the treats, and like every good horseman, the boy checked the animal over, running his hand down King’s legs. I wasn’t sure that Henry understood exactly what he was looking for, but he’d been well trained.
“Can I ride him? Mom says I have to have a big person around, and you know about horses.” Henry turned pleading eyes on me.
“It’s okay by me,” I said, “if you’re sure your mom won’t mind.”
“Nah,” the boy assured me. “I ride all the time.”
I helped Henry saddle the pony before leading the animal out of the barn.
Two barrels were already in place in the arena.
Spotting them, I realized it would be easy to take the boy through some basic barrel racing exercises.
Teaching Henry would give the boy something to remember me by when my time in this town came to an end.
“Let me give you a boost.” I helped Henry into the saddle, making sure to check the girth strap and length of the stirrups before letting Henry ride on his own. “Have you done any barrel racing?”
“I tried it once,” Henry said. “Will you show me?”
“Sure thing, kid.” I thought back to when I learned the techniques used for the rodeo event.
I’d been Henry’s age and my parents had let me take riding lessons.
I’d begged for the privilege and reasoned with them that every kid in Texas knew how to ride.
My mother, a native Texan, understood, though my dad, born in England, didn’t quite get the fascination with western style riding.
But he had wanted his son to be happy, so riding lessons became a staple of our lives.
I remembered my excitement at riding independently and caring for my horse.
“Okay, let’s walk around the barrels in the pattern you’d use in the event.” I took it slow, leading Henry’s horse first around one barrel and then crossing to the second and back to the starting point. “You see how that works?” I asked as pony and boy went through a second time.
“Yep. I’ve got it,” Henry announced as he tightened the reins in his hands.
“I’m staying with you, and we’re going slow,” I cautioned, but I felt a sense of pride when Henry completed one perfect circuit. It wasn’t fast, but the technique had to be learned first.
Teaching him was more fun than I had expected.
Henry was quick and already knew plenty about horses, which made it easy, but I found that I intuitively knew how to direct him—when I needed to put my hand on the horse’s withers and when to let Henry keep control.
The idea I had long harbored about opening my own training facility resurfaced.
Hell, that was twice in the past few days that I’d thought about what had once been my dream.
How possible was it to make it a reality? Then, the nagging voice in my head reminded me that I’d have to own property and horses, manage a business, and stay in one place. I wasn’t sure I was cut out for any of those things. Especially the latter.
I took my focus off Henry for just a second and the boy spurred King forward too quickly and cut close to a barrel, nearly unseating himself. Sprinting alongside, I grabbed Henry’s shoulder, my touch keeping the boy in the saddle.
“You’re all right, buddy. Take it a mite easier,” I said while making sure the boy had his horse back under control before I let go.
“What are you doing?” Amy’s voice cut across the space between the ranch house and the arena. Both Henry and I swung our heads in her direction.
“Uh-oh,” Henry whispered and bit his lip.
Judging by Amy’s expression, the situation called for a whole lot more than uh-oh. Her stride and expression shouted that I had screwed up. But how? Ranch kids rode horses, and Henry had a good seat. What was the big deal?
“What in the world do you think you’re doing, young man?
” Amy stormed into the arena, making King sidestep.
I grabbed the halter to keep the horse from bolting as Amy yanked Henry from the saddle.
“Did you have permission to ride that horse?” Amy bent over and was eye-to-eye with her son.
Henry shook his head before dropping it against his chest. “You take King into the barn to Uncle Jake. He’ll help you unsaddle him and get him rubbed down, and then you go straight to your room and take some time to think about what you did. You understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Henry’s voice was a whisper, but he took King’s reins. Before he led him toward the barn, he turned to look at me and mouthed, “Sorry, Cal.” Now, what was he sorry for?
Amy stood with her hands on her hips until her son disappeared into the barn. When she whirled around to face me, I felt like an errant schoolboy. So I went for my most soothing, reasonable voice.
“He was doing just fine, Amy. Don’t overreact.” I said. “He had a little slip, but he wasn’t in any danger. I was right there with him.” I still wasn’t quite seeing what the big deal was.
“And that makes everything okay, does it?” Her tone challenged me. “Did you know he fell from a horse four months ago and broke his leg? He just got the cast off two weeks ago. I didn’t plan to let him get back on King yet.”
“I didn’t know,” I admitted, “but it wouldn’t have changed anything if I had.
It’s a bad idea to keep a kid off his horse.
How else is he supposed to learn to get back up there and try again?
Kids and adults fall off horses all the time.
You have to know that living on a ranch. The trick is to get back on.”
“And you’re an expert on raising children, I suppose?” She crossed her arms over her chest and took a step closer to me.
“No, ma’am. I’ve just got lots of experience of being tossed off and putting my butt back in the saddle.” I’d done that on days I was so sore I’d barely been able to swing my leg over the horse, but I’d known in my gut that it had to be done.
“So you think that qualifies you to make a decision for my son. You’re not his parent. Hell, you’re just barely a member of this family.” She’d been shouting at me, but now she abruptly dropped her voice. “You should go. Now.”
I nodded and started walking toward the house, trying to shrug off my anger and reminding myself that I didn’t need this kind of crap in my life.
I’d say my goodbyes and get off the ranch as Amy requested.
I had one family that I loved, and I didn’t need another one, especially one that seemed to be full of land mines.
Laura and Brian were stepping out onto the porch when I approached. I had to assume they’d heard the commotion.
“I wanted to thank you for your hospitality, Laura,” I said and shook hands with Brian. I was going to leave it at that, but Laura caught my arm.
“I’d like you to come for dinner later this week, if you can,” she said.
I was speechless for a minute. I should say a polite no thank you and walk away, but Laura had her heart in her eyes, and, dammit, I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to hurt her any more than I already had, just by looking like the son she’d lost—the one she’d actually wanted.
“That’s mighty nice of you. I’ll be here,” I said, knowing I was going to regret accepting the invitation.
“Good. We’ll let you know when,” Laura said with a slight smile. “Take care of yourself.”
With another nod, I headed toward my truck, surprised to find Amy walking alongside me. Anger still came off her in waves, and I was sorry for that.
“You can find someplace else to be that night, so you don’t have to see me,” I said quietly since I was damn sure she wanted nothing to do with me again.
“That’s exactly what I was planning to do,” she snapped.
“Probably for the best.” Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t true.
The best choice would’ve been for me not to have come here to begin with.
Barring that, it’d be best to steer clear of the Thorne ranch altogether from now on.
Being here was only going to cause me trouble. Amy would, too. Of that, I was sure.
“Goodbye, Cal.” Her tone was barely civil. I looked at her face for just a second. It was still bright red with her anger and her blue eyes were sharp.
I didn’t bother to respond, sure I’d say something I would regret.
I tipped my hat to her, then got in my truck and started driving away.
The relief I felt at being away from the ranch settled around me like a blanket and I felt fatigued—probably due to the adrenaline drop.
I’d go back and have dinner as promised, but I wasn’t planning on forming a lasting relationship with Laura, my brothers, or Amy.
I hadn’t gone twenty feet when I glanced in the rearview mirror at Amy. Her hands covered her face, and her red hair whipped around her in the breeze. Shit, she was crying. Her shoulders sagged, and it was obvious that all the fight had gone out of her.
Any anger I still carried went, too. It suddenly hit home that her son was all she had left of her husband—the husband who had died way too young in an accident.
If that meant she got a little overprotective sometimes, who could blame her?
I wanted to turn the truck around and go back to her.
I could apologize, give her a hug, something.
Damn, I hated to see a woman cry. But I was probably the last person she wanted to comfort her.
I kept my eyes focused forward as I left the ranch and turned onto the road into town.
How the hell was I going to make it through the next month?