by JD Ruskin
“I’m done.”
The carny eyed the crowd in desperation and turned to my brother.
“How about you, cowboy? You gonna show this Ranger how a Montana man shoots?”
Jesse laughed and handed the man another bill. He was aware of the crowd, and of Sarah’s eyes watching him.
“You bet. Set them up.”
“The gun pulls left,” Dane said.
Jesse picked it up and looked down the sights. “Got it.”
He fired in rapid succession. Every sitting duck fell down.
“Again,” he said, his eyes never leaving the back of the booth. He was totally focused on the game.
As soon as the carny said, “All set,” Jesse fired again, one fast shot after the other. All the targets toppled. If the gun could have smoked, it would have.
“Again.”
He repeated his performance three more times, then put down the rifle.
“Think I’m about done here, Mister,” he said. “What did I win?”
“Don’t stop now, cowboy. You’re on a roll,” the carny urged. “You got a crowd too.”
“It’s Ranger, same as him.” Jesse pointed respectfully at Dane. “And I’m done.”
“Come on. Try again?” But the disappointed carny knew enough to give up. He looked at all the stuffed animals hanging over our heads and then at Sarah.
“Which one you want, honey?”
Sarah pointed to the biggest teddy bear in the bunch, and he pulled it down and gave it to her. It had to be the size of a five-year-old.
Jesse’s eyes shone bright as her face lit up.
“Are you really giving it to me, Jesse?” she asked. Her arms hugged the fuzzy brown thing to her chest.
“You bet, Sarah.”
“It’s fabulous,” she insisted, moving closer to him.
“Hey, soldier.” The carny held a small blue bear out to Dane, who seemed not to comprehend the gesture. “You won one too, man.” He waved the bear insistently.
Dane looked around at the folks who were still watching. He pointed to a young girl, about ten, who had stopped with her parents to watch.
“Give it to her,” he told the carny.
The girl looked at her father, who nodded at her and then at Dane. She smiled shyly when she took the bear, but Dane was already walking away.
I picked up my pace to catch him. “That was a nice gesture.”
He ignored me and turned around to look for Jesse, who was twenty feet behind us with Sarah.
“So what are we doing next?” he asked my brother.
Jesse looked at Sarah. “Anything else you want to see?”
Sarah looked at me. “We still haven’t toured the horse barns, Josh.”
“We don’t need to.” I figured Dane might want to head back to the ranch. I knew something was bothering him, and we still had a two-hour drive ahead of us.
But Dane surprised me. “That sounds like fun, cowboy. Which way?”
I glanced at Jesse. “Sure, why not?” he agreed.
So I pointed us toward the Super Barn. I knew it like I knew my own barn. A show was just beginning, and we took some seats in the half-filled stands. Dane sat next to me right away, and I was so pleased I didn’t even bother to worry that that left Jesse and Sarah sitting together.
It was a class of year-old geldings, presented by their teenaged handlers.
“What are you watching for?” Dane asked.
“In the horse, does it meet the specifications of its breed? How attractive is its head. Does it have a strong back, a deep chest, overall soundness. Is it nervous, or making smooth transitions or rough.”
We watched the mix of American quarter horses, paints, and saddlebreds as their handlers led them around the arena. Some of the kids were nervous, and it transmitted to their horses in a bad way.
“See there? That one just balked. Not good. But that is on the handler or trainer, maybe. Overall, this is a really good group. There’s a lot of things that go into showing.”
“Did you show horses here when you were young?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d you do?”
“Won grand champion a couple times.”
“That the top award?”
“Yeah.”
Dane snorted. “And you’re not bragging about that?”
I looked at him, and he was grinning at me. My face heated up as I tried to explain.
“I never have understood why I’m good with horses. I just always have been, you know? I have had to study it, sure, but a lot of it, it was like I just knew it from the time I knew anything. So what’s to brag about?”
Dane bumped my ribs with his elbow. “It’s okay, cowboy. I think it’s commendable. Cute, even.”
“Cute?” I said too loudly.
Immediately, I glanced around. Jesse was totally absorbed in whatever Sarah was saying, and there weren’t many people sitting close to us, so I was okay. Still, I whispered my next comments.
“Cute is hardly….”
“Masculine enough?” Dane offered, laughing outright. He leaned in close and whispered, “You just have to accept that you’re cute, cowboy.”
“Whatever.” I turned back to watching the horses.
Dane leaned over once more and whispered again, “But you’re masculine enough too. I’d name you first in class.”
“Would you stop? I’m already hard.”
He laughed for a long time, then left me alone. Not too long after, we headed home.
On the ride back, I was with Sarah again, and her gigantic stuffed bear, in the backseat. I think Dane fell asleep. The only sound in the truck cab was the music from the radio, and the station played way too many songs about country boys and girls getting down on the farm, that’s for sure.
DESPITE ALL his teasing at the fair, Dane fell back into his pattern of ignoring me for a few days once we got back home.
I thought it was darned nasty too, considering how horny he’d made me. Still, I let him stay standoffish until one morning when I passed the calving barn and heard the table saw going. It was time I made another attempt at pursuing him, I decided, or gave him another chance to push me away.
He was making impressive progress on the barn door. He wasn’t fixing it; he was building two new ones, cutting fresh boards and supports. He had a decorative pattern going too that mimicked some of the woodwork in the great hall of the big house. Uncle Karl was going to love it.
I walked inside and sat down on the pile of boards next to where he was running the table saw and waited for him to stop what he was doing.
“This is going to look great when you’re done.”
“Thanks.”
He took off his protective goggles and ogled me.
“That is so not fair,” I complained, tilting my head so I looked at him from beneath the brim of my hat. I was trying to be sexy.
“What?” he asked. Like he didn’t know.
“You haven’t come near me in days, but you keep stripping me naked with your eyes.”
“You missing me, cowboy? You sound like a horny girl.”
I leaned back and splayed my knees. “Like what you see?”
He made like he was inspecting the wood he’d just cut and ignored me completely.
“You are not fair.” I was sporting wood.
All he did was chuckle when he noticed.
“You know, you ought to just let me fuck you.” I meant it to be suave, channeling George Clooney, but I sounded more like the dorkiest kid in high school.
“I don’t bottom.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Ever.”
“Don’t you want to experience the other? Have some variety?”
“Nope.”
“Don’t you want to feel what it’s like to have someone so deep inside you, you hope they’ll never leave?”
“Cowboy, that’s loneliness talking.”
“Is not.”
“Then it’s love bullshit.”
/> “You don’t believe in love?” I was beginning not to like this conversation.
“Nope.”
“Good to know.”
It was all I could think of to say. He hadn’t just rejected me, he’d pretty much stamped idiot across my forehead. I had to get out of there before I said something really stupid.
I stood up. “Guess I’ll go get ready to give some riding lessons.”
“Have a good time.” He turned on the saw again.
I HAD a trail ride after the riding lessons, then took care of the horses, so it was pretty much the end of the day before I thought seriously about Dane again.
By then, most everybody was in the bunkhouse or the big house eating dinner. I was the only one near any of the barns when I heard shouting in the calving barn. Even above the whining of the saw, I knew it was Dane.
As I got closer, the words became clearer. “Get down! Get down! Marshall, stay put…. He’s hit, he’s hit. Where are those fucking helos?”
I started running.
When I threw open the door, I smelled blood before anything else. Dane was still yelling, but it was a long, choking “Noooo” now.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, rocking back and forth, his right hand clutching his left. Blood spurted between his fingers. It was pooling in his lap and splattered across the wall behind the whirring saw.
I yelled at him as I dashed for the electric cord to unplug it. I was afraid I’d see fingers around the saw. I didn’t want to look, but I did, and thank God there weren’t any. I might have heaved.
I yanked out the plug, and the saw whined to a stop. When I grabbed Dane’s shoulder, he looked up, but he wasn’t seeing me.
“Help Marshall, you dumb fuck.”
“Dane! It’s Josh. Dane, what happened?”
“What do you think happened?” he shouted. “We were hit. Help Marshall.”
He pushed me away with his bloody hands, knocking me to the floor. I shook my head, trying to figure what to do. I was terrified he was going to bleed to death.
“Dane, you’re here at the ranch, remember?” I got up and approached him more cautiously. “Come on, Dane, let me help you. You’re scaring me.”
“Help Marshall!” He shoved at me again.
“Okay. Okay.”
I decided to go with his hallucination. “Folks are on their way to help Marshall. I’m here to help you. Let me look at your hands now.”
That seemed to do it. He held them up to me. Both of them trembled. Mine did too as I reached to touch his left one. He’d cut it, and badly if all the blood was any indication. I pulled off my belt and reached for his arm, but he batted me away.
“Help Marshall or I’ll shoot you,” he snarled. “Where’s my goddamn gun?”
“Relax, help’s coming for him,” I repeated, wrestling with his flying arms to try to grab the left one.
When I had it, I tied my belt around his arm above the elbow and pulled tight, then waved the buckle end in front of his face.
“You hold this. You hear me? You hold this while I go check on… things.” I pushed the buckle into his good hand. “You just sit here and hold that.”
I knew I needed help, and I knew I didn’t want a whole bunch of people seeing him like this.
I headed deeper into the barn. It had the equivalent of an operating room for cattle. Uncle Karl could perform most of the routine operations himself. There’d be something to use for a bandage, along with a radio. We kept them scattered across the ranch, and Uncle Karl, Jesse, and Aunt Kate always had one with them. I found it right where it was supposed to be and turned it on. I let out a slow breath and took in another so I wouldn’t sound as panicked as I felt when I talked.
“Jesse, this is Josh. Where you at?”
All I heard was static.
“Jesse, this is Josh, over.”
“What’s up?”
“Where you at, over.”
“I’ll be at the horse barn in four.”
“Make it the calving barn in one. I… I need you.”
I hoped I sounded calm. Uncle Karl was always telling us to watch what we said on the radios. Guests might hear.
“Roger,” Jesse said.
I found some clean rags and a bottle of antiseptic and headed back to Dane.
He was still rocking and choking out Marshall’s name as he stared off into the dark of the far end of the barn.
“Dane,” I said loudly. “Jesse’s coming. Marshall’s going to be okay.”
“He’s dead,” Dane groaned.
I crouched near him and checked to make sure the tourniquet was holding. It was an awfully long minute before I heard Jesse’s truck drive up and come to a stop. Dane got quiet and closed his eyes. His head began to droop.
“Dane. Hang on.” I grabbed at his good arm. “Hang on. Jesse’s here.”
“Aw, fuck, Dane,” Jesse’s words came out above my head.
Dane jerked his head up and opened his eyes.
“Marshall’s dead, isn’t he?” he said to Jesse.
“He’s been yelling ‘Get down’ and something about a guy named Marshall since I got here. It’s like he’s somewhere else.”
I looked up at my brother with relief and made to hand him the rags and antiseptic, but he put his hand on Dane’s shoulder instead.
“Dane, let me take a look at you.”
Dane raised his bloody hands again. They shook violently now.
Jesse turned over the left one to reveal a gaping, bloody slice below the pinkie knuckle.
“Call Uncle Karl,” he said to me.
“I’m here.” The voice came from the doorway. He evaluated the situation in an instant, and turned to me.
“Get Kate on the radio and tell her we’re headed to Livingston Memorial. Tell her to bring out a bunch of clean towels as the truck comes by the house. And stay calm. Jesse, pour some of that antiseptic over his hand, then try to hold it together. Watch out, he might swing at you because it’s going to hurt. Then let’s get him into your truck.”
I ran back to the radio and relayed the message. By the time I’d finished talking to Aunt Kate, Uncle Karl was climbing into Jesse’s truck on the driver’s side. Dane sat in the middle, next to my brother, his head tipped far back on the seat, his eyes closed.
“I’ll come too.”
“You stay here,” Uncle Karl said. “You did a good job, Josh.”
Jesse leaned across Dane to talk to me. “He’s had a flashback, Josh. I figured he had PTSD, but not like this.”
Uncle Karl started the truck, and they took off. I stood in the dust and watched them slow down to grab the towels from Aunt Kate, then speed up. I figured Uncle Karl would keep his foot to the floor all the way to Livingston.
I don’t know how long I stared down the road. Then I went back inside the barn to clean up. I choked a couple of times, but I finished the job. I wanted it to look like nothing had happened when Dane got back.
I HEADED to my house and saddled up Hector. I had been trying for a couple of days to get out and check the fence line by the national forest. Now I was glad to have something to do to pass the time.
Hurricane snorted at me when he saw that he wasn’t going to be getting my attention.
“Soon, boy.”
Hector was antsy when I swung into the saddle. Maybe he smelled the blood on my clothes. I nudged him into a trot and then a gallop, and he settled in.
Before I was even aware of it, we were at the fence line. He headed straight for the gate. We went through, I closed it, and we trotted through the woods.
My mind raced, replaying the scene in the barn. I was afraid for Dane. I was afraid the accident might make him leave, and I wanted him to stay. No matter that he kept pushing me away, I wanted him to stay.
I was mad that I couldn’t go with him. I should be there. I knew I should. Would he wonder why I wasn’t? I argued with myself about that for a while before I realized he likely wouldn’t remember I’d been part of it. And if he did
remember, he might be embarrassed. And that might make him push me away even more.
A vision of Brittany flashed in my mind. She was standing in that meadow, the rain coming down hard, stubbornly refusing to mount up, desperately demanding my attention, and right then I knew the ache and longing she must have felt. What a pathetic mess. Yeah, I’d become a muddle of teenage angst again over a man who was probably already worried I was too young for him. He’d be dumping my butt for good as soon as he got back. If he came back.
When I’d finally stopped thinking about it all, the sun was sinking. I turned Hector toward home. I didn’t want to hit a hole in the dark or scare up a snake that might startle him.
Near the fence line again, a sudden shimmer in the grass caught my eye. I swung off Hector to look closely. It was an empty beer can. Three more were scattered nearby, all shiny and new. They hadn’t been out here long.
Someone had been back up here. But the fence line was intact. What were they up to? All kinds of nonsense ideas flashed through my mind, all of them drenched in blood. Dane’s blood. I was scaring myself.
I put the cans in my saddlebag and headed for home.
Once I’d taken care of Hector and given Hurricane and Sugarpie some feed, I went to my place. I grabbed a beer and sat on Gran’s old rocker on my front porch, staring at Jesse’s house. Like I thought that would make them all get back sooner. I didn’t know what else to do. I was stuck in that horrible worrying time, where you’re waiting for news and not getting it, and time seems like it never moves. I’d been there before, a bunch of times, over Jesse.
Somehow though I fell asleep, because the next thing I knew, I was awake and my neck was stiff.
Jesse’s truck was parked in front of his place, and the house was dark.
I pulled myself out of the chair and headed toward it. I don’t know why exactly. I knew I wasn’t going to go inside and wake Jesse and Dane up. Heck, Dane might not even be there. Maybe he’d had to stay at the hospital. I knew all that, but it was like I believed standing in front of the house might give me some clues to what had happened.
So that’s what I did. I stared at the bedroom window I knew was Dane’s.
“Hey, cowboy.”
The voice was low, but I jumped like it was a shout. I glanced around wildly until I saw him. It took me a minute. He was lying flat on his back on the porch floor.