by Joanna Sims
He flipped on the light in the barn aisle. “I said before dawn. It’s before dawn.”
“Well.” She smiled at the image of Zodiac and Dream Catcher blinking their eyes sleepily in the light, their heads hanging low over the stall gate. “Maybe we could drill down on a specific time for tomorrow. Maybe that would be helpful.”
“Sure,” Hunter said in an uncharacteristically agreeable tone of voice. “Let’s drill down on, let’s say, four a.m. every day.”
Skyler’s shoulders slumped. “Every morning?”
He handed her a large plastic scoop. “Fill this with feed to the top and then split it between the two of them. After they’re done eating, they can go out to the pasture.”
She looked at the scoop in her hand.
“And, yes,” he added, “every morning. Unless, of course, you think that the horses could do without eating one day so you can have a spa day.”
Skyler talked back to him in her head, thinking of all sorts of snarky things she could say in response. But in reality, she zipped her lip, fed the horses and sprayed them both with fly spray, glad that she had muscle memory from summer camp, and then haltered each horse and took them out to the adjacent pasture. The moon was still in the sky; it was still completely dark outside.
“That wasn’t too bad. What’s next?” she asked with her most cheerful, perky, you-can’t-get-me-down voice.
“Follow me.”
* * *
“You know how to drive a tractor?” Hunter asked his shadow.
“Sure,” Skyler said evenly. “That’s how I get to work every morning. Tractor.”
He found himself smiling again, but had his back to her so she couldn’t see it. Skyler, he had quickly discovered, shared his caustic wit and tendency to be a smart-ass. Yet another thing he liked about the tourist.
“Hop up there,” Hunter said.
Skyler climbed into the tractor seat and looked around to familiarize herself with the different components; she would have to scoot forward in order to reach the pedals, but other than that, it was a pretty comfortable seat.
“First, you’ll want to...” Hunter began.
Skyler moved the gear to Neutral, stepped on the clutch, turned the key to first notch, waited for a red light to come on and then after the red light went off, she cranked the engine.
“...move the gear into Neutral, step on the clutch, wait for the glow light to...” Hunter stopped talking and started watching.
She sent him a pleased grin. “After the Marines, Dad opened a garage and worked on plenty of diesel engines. I haven’t driven a tractor, but I have driven a semi.”
“Well...” Hunter said slowly, “I’ll be damned.”
A sliver of light from the sun rising up behind the far-off mountains was glowing pink as Hunter hopped into the trailer hitched to the tractor.
“Put her in gear and drive up this path.” Hunter sat down on top of the bales of hay stacked in the tractor. “We’ll feed this herd first and then move on to the next.”
For the next several hours, they worked together. Rain had been scarce so they were throwing hay in the fields to keep the cows well-fed. It was tedious work, but Skyler enjoyed it. Her misery from lack of sleep and being up early was overshadowed by the sound of cows mooing for their breakfast and the feeling of purpose that driving the tractor had given her. They finished with the cows and then Hunter directed her to drive the tractor to a field of horses.
“Watch this,” Hunter said after she drove the tractor through the open gate. He closed the gate behind them, hopped back on the trailer and then whistled loudly.
Now the sun was sending off a soft yellow glow over the rolling hills before her. And then, off in the distance, faint at first, was the sound of pounding. Then she saw them—a herd of horses galloping in the horizon. They were whinnying and kicking up their heels, their ears forward, their necks arched, legs pumping as they raced across the field.
Skyler was mesmerized by the sight; it was if she was seeing horses in the wild, because they were so free. It moved her to tears.
“I have never seen anything that beautiful before.”
“It never gets old,” Hunter mused.
He directed her to drive toward the herd, to meet them at their target—the row of black rubber food bowls.
As the herd approached, the horses began to start vying for the first bowl of feed, pinning their ears back, nipping and kicking.
“Is this safe?” Skyler asked, recalling that the Circle F Dude Ranch hadn’t taught her how to handle this scenario.
“Not necessarily.” Hunter waved a flag at the herd to back them off from the food bowls. He kept them at bay with the flag as she drove slowly from bowl to bowl, dumping grain. They also dropped bales of hay for the herd before they headed back to her cabin.
“The rest of the hay will go into your barn.”
“And then can I eat?” she asked, her stomach hurting from lack of food.
“Then we can eat.” As she drove through the gate he had opened for her, Skyler caught a quick smile on the cowboy’s face. He was so darn handsome when he smiled.
He directed her while she backed the trailer close to the barn and then she switched off the engine. The bales of hay weighed nearly fifty pounds each and, try as she might, she couldn’t lift one bale by herself.
“I’ve got this.” Hunter picked up the bale she had dragged off the back of the trailer. “Do a quick check and make sure they still have water in the pasture.”
“Are you sure?” Skyler asked, winded.
“Yeah. Go check on the water and then get yourself some chow.” He carried the bale of hay toward the feed room. “We’ve got a pasture fence to tear down after breakfast.”
On her way to check the water, Skyler took her finger and itched beneath the wig. This was an idea she hadn’t really thought through; farm work wearing a wig just wasn’t practical. It was still early morning—she wouldn’t even be at her desk job at this hour back home—and she was already sweating through her clothes, and her real hair and scalp were soaked beneath the wig. And it itched!
She was half-tempted just to yank off her wig at breakfast and be done with it. The horses thankfully had water, so she wouldn’t have to fight the hose to pull it over to the trough. That was a lucky break. She made it to the porch steps and had to sit down.
“Lord, give me strength.” Skyler rested her head in her hands. She closed her eyes and let her body enjoy the moment of rest. It was going to take all of her will to keep up with Hunter, but it was also forcing her to build up her stamina more quickly than if she had been at home.
“You okay?” Hunter had finished the chore of stocking the barn with hay; he was brushing the loose pieces of hay off his clothing and arms when he came upon Skyler slumped forward on the front steps of the porch, her head in her hands.
She didn’t raise her head. “I’m okay.”
He didn’t believe her for a second and there was a part of him that knew he had pushed her too hard on her first morning. He knew it because it had been deliberate.
After a second or two of mulling, Hunter extended his hand to her. First and foremost, he had been raised to be a gentleman by his mother, Lilly.
“Let’s go rustle up some grub,” Hunter said. “I’ll show you how to make a real cowboy breakfast.”
It took a moment, but Skyler tilted her head up, saw his offered hand and slowly slipped her small hand into his. The bones of her hand were so delicate to the touch that he mentally warned himself not to hold on to her fingers to tightly.
When she stood, she swayed slightly and he caught her under the elbow. He felt terrible.
“Let’s get you inside.”
Skyler put her hand on her forehead and smiled weakly at him. “I’m just a little dehydrated, I think. I’m not used to sweating so much before it’s even noon.”
He helped her sit down at the kitchen counter and got her a glass of water. “Just sit there and cool off.”
Hunter grabbed some of their ranch-fresh eggs out of the refrigerator, put a skillet on the stove and found a bowl.
“Breakfast hash okay?”
Skyler nodded, taking several big gulps of the water. Her skin had a chalky hue and her eyes looked sunken in her oval face. She didn’t look well.
“I’m sorry,” Skyler said in a raspy voice.
“No.” Hunter frowned, unhappy with his own behavior. He’d been so stuck on the idea of getting rid of her, he’d run her into the ground. “I’m sorry.”
Once the skillet was heated, he poured some sunflower oil in the pan, diced some potatoes and onions and threw them in the oil, and then dumped a can of corn-beef hash in the mix.
“That smells good,” the tourist said.
“It’s gonna be good,” he said, frying two eggs sunny-side up. He’d made this meal a hundred times before for his brothers and crew, but never for a lady. But it was the quickest thing he knew how to make in order to get food into her body.
“This will turn you into a cowgirl quicker than anything.” Hunter separated the hash onto two plates and then put a fried egg on the top of the hash. He slid the plate her way and then handed her a fork.
“Thank you,” Skyler said, loading her fork with eggs and hash.
Hunter sat down next to her at the breakfast bar, hunched over his plate and dug in. He was pretty hungry himself.
“Hmm.” He nodded his head when he took his first bite. “One of my better batches.”
He looked over at Skyler, who was focused on stuffing as much of the hash into her mouth as she could. Her cheeks were as full as a chipmunk’s when she looked up at him, made a happy noise and gave him a thumbs-up.
His companion didn’t speak until the majority of her hash was gone. “I’ve never had this before.”
“Do you like it or are you just desperate?” Hunter scooped the last bite of his breakfast onto his fork.
“Both.” Skyler followed suit and pushed the last bit of hash onto her fork with her finger. She licked her fingers and then gobbled up the rest of the hash.
Hunter gathered up their plates and put them in the sink while Skyler guzzled down another glass of water. She put down the glass on the counter and he was heartened to see that some of the color had returned to her face.
“Why don’t you take the afternoon off?” he suggested.
“Absolutely not.” Skyler shook her head. “I feel better now. Tomorrow I need to get up earlier and grab something to eat before you show up at my door, that’s all.”
“Are you sure?”
“Are you going to rest this afternoon or are you going to work?”
“I’m going to be pulling a fence down.”
“Then—” he saw resolve in Skyler’s lovely lavender eyes “—I’m going to be pulling a fence down, too.”
* * *
After breakfast, Skyler excused herself to the bathroom so she could regroup. It really annoyed her to no end that her body, as it had for the last year, had given out on her. Before cancer, she had been tiny but mighty. That’s what her father had always said. She hated to feel weak, no matter the cause.
In the bathroom, Skyler pulled off the wig and wet a washcloth, then wiped down her head, scalp, face and neck. She stared at her reflection in the mirror; baby-fine strawberry blond hair had sprouted all over her head. Skyler rubbed her hand over the new growth, grateful to have it at all. But she didn’t feel ready to open the topic of her illness with Hunter, so she would just have to find a way to tolerate the heavy, hot wig until she was ready.
Skyler put the wig back onto her head, adjusted it and then pushed her cowgirl hat on top of the wig. Honestly, in her mind, she looked one of those L.O.L. Surprise dolls that were so popular with young girls—the wig added extra height to her head, making her face look longer and narrower and her eyes look overly large.
“It’s a look.” She rolled her eyes at herself before she quit the mirror and left the bathroom.
“Ready?” Hunter was waiting for her outside.
“Ready.”
Hunter had her follow him on the tractor while he drove his truck. They headed deeper into Sugar Creek property, heading up a slight incline until they reached a clearing at a plateau. Hunter gestured for her to pull the tractor to the right of where he was parked. He jumped out of his truck and walked over to an old three-railed fence that had been turned a grayish brown by the sun. Many of the rails were broken or split; some of the rails were missing.
“We want to expand this pasture—give the herd some more grazing land to the north.”
Skyler rested her arms on the steering wheel of the tractor.
“Where do we begin?” she asked, feeling daunted by the task.
“How do you eat an elephant?” Hunter grabbed some tools out of his truck.
One of her oncologists, Dr. Bryant, always asked her that same question.
“One bite at a time.” She swung down off the tractor.
“Exactly.”
They worked side by side as the sun beat down on them. Hunter was a quiet worker and so was she. The cowboy would pull off the boards, using a crowbar to wrench them away from the posts, while Skyler did her best to haul the boards to the trailer.
“Do what you can.” Hunter was as sweaty as she was. “It’s hot and I don’t want you to overdo again.”
Skyler nodded as she wrapped her arms around the end of a rail and pulled as hard as she could to get it to move a couple of feet. She stopped, dropped it, caught her breath and then picked it up again. Even if she could only haul one board for Hunter, it was better than nothing.
“If you can pull that wire off the boards before I get to the them, that would be a big help.” Hunter wiped off his forehead.
Chicken wire had been tacked to the boards to stop the horses from getting their heads stuck in between the planks if they tried to eat greener blades of grass on the other side of the fence. Hunter handed her a hammer.
“Use this to pull the nails out. Keep the nails in your pocket because we don’t want them left behind for the horses to step on.”
Skyler took the hammer, glad that Hunter had put the earlier episode behind him and was treating her as she wanted to be treated: like an equal.
One by one, Skyler fought with the nails, cursing at times, getting frustrated at times, but also feeling triumphant when she managed to wrench a nail loose and pull a part of the wire away from the post, paving the way for Hunter to do his job.
Skyler locked her fingers into the spaces of the wire, put her boot on the post and then pulled as hard as she could. The wire gave way more quickly than she anticipated and she stumbled backward.
“Careful.” Hunter seemed to always be watching her out of the corner of his eye.
She nodded but kept focused on her task. The more she worked, the hotter her scalp became; sweat was rolling down her cheek and the need to itch under the wig only made her feel more frustrated and irritable.
She bent down to take the bottom nail out of the post, and when she did, her hair got tangled up in the wire. When she lifted up her head, it tugged the wig sideways.
“Damn it!” Skyler grabbed the tangled hair and managed to pull it loose, leaving some golden blond strands still wound around the rusty wire.
She stood upright, her fingers balled up into a fist with her free hand, her other hand gripping the handle of the hammer until it hurt.
“Enough!” she said through gritted teeth. “Enough, enough, enough!”
Hunter spun around to face her just in time to see her throw her hat on the ground, yank off her wig, throw it down as hard as she could, stomp on it several times, then pick up her hat and plop it back onto her head.
&nb
sp; Her breathing labored from the heat and the hissy fit, Skyler stared at Hunter while he stared back at her. They stood for several seconds, just staring at each other, before he asked, “Feel better?”
It took a moment for his question to register—it hadn’t been the question she had prepared herself to answer. She breathed in deeply and then laughed as she exhaled. “Yes. Much.”
Skyler knew that this wasn’t the end of the discussion between them. But Hunter’s willingness to keep focused on the job and ignore the fact that she had just pulled off a wig and stomped it into the ground was exactly what she needed.
“Good.” Hunter turned back to his task. “Now let’s get back to work.”
Chapter Three
Pulling down the fence was more than a one-day job. It was like that on the ranch—some jobs took one shot and other jobs lingered on for months before they were finished.
“Let’s knock off for now.” Hunter stood upright and then stretched to ease the tension in his back. “It’s about time for lunch.”
Skyler was wrestling with a plank of wood, dragging it toward the trailer.
“Okay,” his helper grunted. “Just let me get this last board on the trailer.”
Hunter walked over to where she was struggling and picked up the other end of the plank. Then they carried it together the rest of the way. Together, they lifted it up and dropped it onto the trailer.
“Thank you.” Skyler kneeled down in her spot. “That was tough.”
“You did real good,” Hunter said. “Better than I would’ve thought.”
Skyler didn’t move. While she caught her breath, he pulled some cold bottles of water out of a cooler in the bed of his truck. He twisted off the cap of one and offered it to her.
“Drink this.”
Skyler stood up, her shoulders slumped forward and her face beet-red, and took the bottle from him. She guzzled the water down almost in one gulp, breathing in deeply after she was finished.
“Thank you,” she said again, sitting down on the edge of the trailer.
Hunter was very proud of Montana and the women who were raised here. He had always believed that the women of Montana had certain qualities—strength, gumption and perseverance—that women from other parts of the country didn’t have. It was a tough life, and he had seen, time and again, the women in his life step up to the plate and work side by side with the men to keep the ranch running. Skyler had earned his respect today; no matter how tired she was, how out of breath, frustrated or angry, she never stopped moving forward. She never stopped trying.