Huckleberry Lake

by Catherine Anderson

  Erin let him continue until she couldn’t bear to see any more. “What is your point?”

  Jonas turned his chair to face her again. “That maybe you’re seeing a double standard where there isn’t one. I grew up with horses. They have monocular vision, which means they do have blind spots. When you stand directly in front of an equine, it can’t see you. Well, maybe your shoulders and arms, which might be outside the blind spot, but those parts of you would still be blurry.”

  “They really can’t see me if I’m right in front of their nose?”

  “Nope.” He smiled slightly. “Have you ever noticed how a horse lifts its head when you stand in front of it? Happens a lot when a horse is in an enclosure. It’ll lift its head to get farther away so it can see you better. You’ll often see the whites of its eyes. A lot of people think that indicates the horse is mean, but they’re wrong. There’s another blind spot directly behind a horse, and it can’t see you back there. Have you ever been unaware that anyone else was in a room and jumped a foot when they suddenly spoke to you?”

  “Well, of course. Hasn’t everyone?”

  Jonas tapped the pen again. “Horses get startled, too. Only instead of jumping, they’re more likely to kick. It’s a knee-jerk response. That’s why Wyatt yammers at you about safely approaching a horse from behind. If you want to wind up looking like those people”—he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the monitor—“just keep ignoring his warnings, and you may get your wish.”

  Erin almost threw up her hands. “You don’t believe me about the double standard.”

  “I believe you.” He turned back to his keyboard and executed another search. “Huh. And it appears that you’re right. There is no legal maximum weight that people should lift at work. There’s no reason for them to be jumping all over you about dreamed-up weight limits.”

  “You see?” Erin said. “What’s the address of that site? I’ll enter it in my phone and show it to Uncle Slade. It proves that Wyatt is being unreasonable.”

  “Oh, wait. There are recommended weight limitations for both men and women at certain levels of their bodies. And there are also guidelines that say women shouldn’t be expected to lift as much weight as men. And get this. It says the suggested guidelines for both sexes change when the work environment requires any lifting that involves twisting or bending, if the manual handling is being carried out in a confined space, or if the lifting activity is being repeated. As I recall, all three of those exceptions occur on a ranch.”

  Erin stood up. “It appears that my hour will be up in ten minutes. I don’t mind paying you for ten measly minutes you didn’t actually work.”

  Jonas chuckled. “You know why I like working with you so much? You never hesitate to let me know when I tick you off.”

  “You’re impossible sometimes.”

  “Ditto right back at you. I hope you’ll think about what I’ve said, though.”

  She pushed the pizza box toward him. “Eat the rest of your pizza. I prefer healthier fare.”

  “Meaning that you’re still dieting.”

  “Nobody on Slade’s ranch watches what they eat.” She met his gaze. “I don’t always like what you have to say, Jonas, but I do always think about it, and most of the time, I try to follow your advice.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice pitched low. “And I’ll be here whenever you need to talk. But if you lose that job, let me know. I could really use a good cleaning lady.”

  Erin rolled her eyes. “You’re such an a-hole sometimes. If I meet any cleaning men, I’ll steer them your way.”

  As she stepped out onto the landing, Jonas fired a parting shot at her. “Men are probably better cleaners than women!”

  * * *

  * * *

  When Erin got back to the ranch, she was hungry. Not with regular hunger, but sharp pains in her stomach that made her feel weak and nauseated. If she went to the bunkhouse to find something to eat, she’d encounter Wyatt, and she was still too angry with him to be civil. She guessed she’d just have to go to bed hungry, because she didn’t wish to see her uncle yet either. She decided to slip in the front door and hurry upstairs to her room as fast as her sore legs would carry her.

  Only when Erin slipped into the main house, wonderful smells drifted to her from the kitchen. Vickie had been baking, and Erin’s nose told her that chocolate chip cookies were the treat of the day. She stood on the entryway rug and listened. She heard no one stirring downstairs and determined that Vickie and Slade were probably in their new master suite, watching something on television. She crept from the entryway and made it to the kitchen without making a sound. Then she flipped on a light. She nearly moaned when she spotted at least four dozen of her favorite cookies laid out on sheets of waxed paper.

  Erin was about to load up her pockets when her uncle entered the room and startled her by saying, “I’m glad you didn’t run straight upstairs. I need to talk to you.”

  She turned to face him. “About what?”

  “I know you’re pissed at me.”

  Erin shook her head. “No. I’m not angry, only hurt. I guess I thought blood was thicker than water.”

  “Blood is thicker than water, honey. It’s just that life can interfere with those bonds sometimes. Let me remind you that while performing your job as a deputy, you didn’t hesitate to place me under arrest, slap handcuffs on me as you read me my rights, and stuff me into a cop car.”

  Erin flinched, feeling as if he’d slapped her. “Having to arrest you was part of what led me to realize I was working in the wrong field.”

  “You still performed your job.”

  “Only because I had to.”

  “I understood then that you had no choice, and admired you for doing what you had to do. Now I’d like you to extend me the same courtesy. This ranch isn’t just my livelihood. I have people who depend on me to keep the place operating in the black, and now I also have a family who will inherit the operation when I die. I owe it to my son and his kids to make this place as profitable as it can be.”

  “I understand that.”

  “You may understand, but you don’t see my expenses. My employee health and accident insurance is already sky-high, because ranching can be dangerous work. People get sick, of course. There’s no way for me to mitigate that situation. Anyone who is injured while on the clock is also covered. I absorb the cost of that, and I know my premiums will go up even higher when there’s an accident, which is inevitable. But there is a way to mitigate that situation. Employees who don’t follow our safety rules are booted off my payroll. It helps to keep my insurance costs down. I can’t make an exception for you. You aren’t listening to sound advice. You’re so bent on excelling that you’re taking stupid chances. If you don’t change your approach to the job, I told Wyatt to let you go.”

  Erin’s throat had gone so tight that she could barely speak. “So I heard. From a second party. I would have appreciated hearing it straight from you.”

  Slade raked his fingers through his hair, ruffling the dark strands in such a way that the silver ones caught more of the light. “I know telling Wyatt to threaten you with termination was a chickenshit thing for me to do. I feel bad about that.” He smiled slightly. “The night Vickie started that brawl at the bar, you performed your job and arrested me yourself. Instead of doing you the same favor, I sent Wyatt to do the dirty work. I guess I just love you too much. I couldn’t do it myself.” He released a shaky sigh. “You have more courage than I do. I’ll give credit where it’s due. But your never-say-die approach to your job here is not what I’m looking for in a ranch hand.”

  “I saw my therapist tonight. I’m trying, Uncle Slade.”

  “You’ll always have a home here as long as I draw breath. I love you, and you are more than welcome to stay here as long as you like. But that doesn’t mean I’ll keep you in my employ when you’re taking stupid ch
ances.”

  He turned and left the kitchen. Erin glanced at the cookies, but her appetite for them was gone. She no longer even felt hungry. As she climbed the stairs to her room, she had only one consolation. Her legs were no longer as sore as they had been. Her body was beginning to adjust to the demands of the work.

  She showered and put on a pair of clean sweatpants and a T-shirt to sleep in. Then she lay in bed with her face pressed into her pillow and started to cry. For so many years, she’d never allowed herself to shed tears. It was weak, according to her dad. Only lately she couldn’t seem to govern her emotions. She felt like a confused, frustrated, and heartbroken child again, wishing she could make her parents love her and not knowing how.

  * * *

  * * *

  Erin awakened to the bluish light of predawn and swung out of bed to stand at the window and look at the ranch. At this hour, the green fields appeared almost black, and mist wreathed the trees on the mountains, creating what looked like a magical world of lakes and islands. She remembered how peaceful and centered she’d felt after working on fences with Uncle Slade. She’d lost that sense of belonging now and knew she would feel edgy the moment she left the house. Wyatt was right. She truly had turned this job into a race and a constant test of her abilities. She was an emotional mess, and talking with Jonas last night hadn’t helped her determine how she could get her head on straight. The need within her to measure up was compulsive, and she couldn’t seem to slap a lid on it.

  Even worse, her presence here was causing problems for Uncle Slade. Oh, he’d meant it when he said she was welcome in his home. She didn’t doubt for a second that he loved her. But that didn’t mean she fit seamlessly into the pattern of his life. For his sake, she needed to leave. She should just pack up her personal things, get them into her car, and then say goodbye to her aunt and uncle in such a way that they wouldn’t feel terrible as she drove away.

  It wasn’t an easy decision for Erin to make. She had no idea how she was going to pay her bills, and she was frightened. But no matter how she looked at it, she was causing trouble for the people she loved. Uncle Slade and Vickie were still newlyweds, and this should be the happiest time of their life. By coming here to work, she was ruining that for them. Last night, Uncle Slade must have been sitting in the darkened living room, waiting for her to get home. That meant he hadn’t been in the master suite, watching television with his wife. He hadn’t been doing anything with her at all.

  And Erin knew she was the reason for that. She’d already left one job. Doing it again shouldn’t be so hard.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After doing his early-morning check on the horses, Wyatt saw Erin loading stuff into the back of her car as he left the barn. His heart felt as if it took a nosedive to the toes of his boots. He hadn’t handled his talk with her well yesterday. He’d tried to be a good foreman, being cut-and-dried about his complaints, but in doing that, he’d forgotten the most important thing: to also be her friend.

  He’d learned early on with Kennedy to be his brother first and his foreman second, but it was different with Erin, and he was so conflicted about his attraction to her that it was difficult to keep his head on straight. He wished she wouldn’t leave. One part of her yearned to be seen as feminine, pretty, and desirable. But the other part of her detested everything she secretly wished for. Her yearning to be something she wasn’t troubled him.

  Wyatt felt that he understood her in a way others didn’t—because he was deaf. He’d been born that way, just as Erin had been born a girl. As far back as Wyatt could remember, the world beyond his grandfather’s ranch hadn’t seemed to accept him as he was. The way he had perceived it, rightly or wrongly, there was pressure on him at every turn to be as much like a hearing person as he could be. As an adult, Wyatt understood that all those individuals had good intentions. They’d only wanted him to have the tools he would need to thrive in a world that would challenge him at every turn. Only as a little boy and later as a teen, Wyatt had felt like a lesser person. He had been everybody’s special project. He’d had to learn his letters. He’d had to learn sign language. He’d had to learn to speak. The demands placed upon him were huge and the pressure relentless.

  He told himself he’d put all that behind him, but in a lot of ways, he was just like Erin, still driven and trying to be someone he wasn’t. He spent at least a half hour each night at his computer, striving to speak as perfectly as he could. When he’d gotten into trouble with that woman, it hadn’t been because he’d intended to do her any harm. It had happened because he went into that bar pretending to be something he wasn’t. Erin was so much like him in that way, trying with everything she had to be as strong as a man.

  Wyatt didn’t want her to quit the ranch. He knew firsthand that working with animals was a great way for most people to heal. Erin was seeing a therapist, and Wyatt was glad about that. But she was overlooking the best psychologists in the world: all the critters on this land. If she stayed, she’d eventually learn to deal with those animals on their terms, not hers. She would also learn they would accept her without condition.

  It was with animals that Wyatt had first started to appreciate himself for who he was. It was with animals that he’d stopped feeling like a lesser being. It was with animals that he had discovered his own special talents that set him apart from others. And it was with animals that he’d finally found peace.

  He struck off toward her across the common. He had no idea what he might say to change her mind about leaving, but he at least had to try. As he drew to a stop near her, he saw that she was stuffing folded clothing into a duffel bag.

  He studied her for a moment, and then he said the first thing that came to his mind. “I didn’t have you pegged as a quitter.”

  Her face flushed scarlet with anger, and he patted himself on the back for challenging her instead of trying to counsel her. It was the best tactic to use.

  “I am not a quitter!” She slammed the trunk lid closed. “My presence on the ranch is disruptive. I’m leaving because taking this job has put my relationship with my uncle in jeopardy and is messing up his honeymoon time.”

  The muscles across Wyatt’s shoulders and down along each side of his spine knotted. “I call BS. You’re quitting because you don’t have the guts to stay and learn about ranch work. You don’t have the guts to accept your own limitations.”

  Tears gathered in her eyes, which already looked puffy from crying. “You have no idea how I feel!”

  “For years I tried to run from something that was impossible for me to escape: that I am and will always be deaf. Do you really believe you’re the only person on earth who’s spent their whole life trying to be something they can’t be? You need to rethink that, because I’m standing right in front of you, and I did exactly that. You told me once that you originally wanted to work with deaf children. Why? I understand that you thought you’d be helping them, and as an adult deaf man, I know those kids need all the help they can get. But can you step out of your own skin long enough to imagine how those little deaf kids feel when every adult they meet is hell-bent on fixing them? Can you understand that others make them feel broken? That it isn’t and never will be okay for them to be deaf in the real world?”

  “I never thought about it like that.”

  “Well, start.”

  “Where are you trying to go with this, Wyatt?”

  “I’m trying to make you realize that the only way for you to be happy, really happy, is to accept yourself for who and what you are. Have you ever heard of deaf communities and wondered why deaf people seek them out and live around others like them? I think it’s because they’ve come to accept being deaf and actually like being who they are. And they’re happiest living in communities filled with people who are also deaf and happy about it. The pressure is off, and they can celebrate just being. Some things can never be fixed, and at some point, doesn’t everyone with a
disability need to accept it and be glad of it? I’ve never visited a deaf community, so my take on them may be off base, but I know how I feel. I—am—deaf. I’m finished with surgeries to make me hear. I’m finished with gadgets that just complicate my life. For a long time, I’d get my hopes up and think there was a breakthrough that might fix me, but I was always disappointed. And at some point, I became content. Content to be deaf. And once I reached that place, I even started to appreciate deafness as a special gift.”

  He held up a staying hand so she wouldn’t interrupt. “That doesn’t mean the broken little boy no longer exists inside of me. I still work my ass off to maintain my speaking abilities. The day I met you, I tried to pass as a hearing person. It’s a reflex reaction, so I understand when I see you just reacting. I spent all my youth trying to be like hearing individuals. You spent all of yours trying to be the son your father wanted. Old habits are hard to break. I get that. But I also know that you’ll never overcome your automatic responses to pressure by quitting and running.”

  He swung an arm at their surroundings. “There’s no better place for you to be right now. If you stay, this ranch will challenge you at every turn, and eventually it’ll teach that little, broken girl inside of you that you aren’t really broken at all. That it was the people around you that had it all wrong.”

  * * *

  * * *

  All Erin could do was gape at him. She’d never heard Wyatt Fitzgerald talk for so long. Nor had she ever seen him look quite so passionate about what he was saying. But even more mind-blowing was that what he’d just told her made more sense than anything Jonas had ever said to her in countless counseling sessions. She had heard of deaf communities. She’d also read that the people who lived in them claimed to be happy that they were deaf. She’d never really bought into that, because, in her mind, she hadn’t been able to fathom how anyone could embrace a disability and be glad they had it. Only Wyatt was right. Were disabled people supposed to rail against fate all their lives and feel that nature or God had played a dirty trick on them? Why not embrace the difference and celebrate it? What was wrong with a person feeling happy about having a disability and looking at all the positive things that came of it? And even more important to her in that moment was another question: Why should anyone have to live her life feeling miserable because she was trying to fix something about herself that could never be changed?