Inside, he stepped past the hostess’s station and the glass case full of big pies and cakes, saw Sarah seated in a booth by the window. He walked over and fell onto the bench opposite her.
“Sarah.”
“Thank you for coming.” She sipped her water.
“This is strange, you know?” Jake said.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“So, what’s up?”
The waitress came by. Jake picked up the menu and handed it to her. “Burger, fries, coffee. Thank you, ma’am.”
“Just a salad,” Sarah said. “And iced tea.”
The waitress left.
Sarah looked around the room and that made Jake glance around. He suddenly felt furtive and he didn’t like it.
“Sarah?”
“You helped me a lot the other day.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Not just with the horse. All that talk about not staring at the horse’s head, about looking ahead to where I’m going and not seeing obstacles. I understood what you were saying.”
“I see,” he said. “That’s good, right?” Jake looked at the now very sunny day. “And?”
Sarah sat back against the cloth-covered booth, seemed to smile slightly as she looked out the window. “I want to know something, Jake. Do you find me attractive?”
The waitress returned with the tea and coffee.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Jake said.
The waitress left.
Jake took the interruption as a chance to change the subject. “Every now and then you’re going to have a breakthrough with horses. I’ve been riding for forty years and it still happens.”
“Do you find me attractive?”
“Sarah, what’s this all about?”
“Answer the question.”
“I’m uncomfortable with the question.”
“Why?”
“I just don’t want to answer the question.” Jake wanted to get up and leave. And he also wanted to stay. “You’re a married woman.” His voice was soft, quiet. He tried to avoid whispering. He thought whispering would make him feel like he was up to something.
“Do … you … find me attractive?”
“Yes.”
“See, that wasn’t difficult,” she said.
“Is that why I’m here? To tell you that you’re pretty?”
“No.”
“I just wanted to thank you,” she said.
“For what? Listen, I’m flattered and I hope that I’m not letting some male fantasy make me think you’re coming on to me, but that’s what I’m thinking.”
“I’m not coming on to you. I’m thanking you.”
“It sure feels like you’re coming on to me,” he said.
“You convinced me to leave my husband.”
The waitress delivered the food, but Jake didn’t look away from Sarah. “Ketchup?” the waitress asked. “Ketchup?”
“No, thank you,” Jake said without looking at her.
The woman left.
“I don’t want to hear that,” he said. “About your husband.” He looked at his food. He put some money on the table. “Listen, thanks for inviting me out, but I’ve got to go.”
“What are you so afraid of?” she asked.
“I’ve got to go.” He started to stand, but stopped. “I appreciate that you’ve got troubles. I hope you find what you want. But I don’t know you, Sarah. We’re not close friends. All I wanted was for your horse to cross the creek.”
“I know, but—”
“For your horse to cross the creek,” he repeated. “Okay, I’m going now.” He gained his feet and walked out.
Things were fairly dried out by the time Jake arrived home. He stepped into his mudroom and changed into his paddock boots, then went straight for the mule. He hadn’t eaten and he was hungry, but he needed to work an animal. The mule was not eager to come to him, so he had to angle him off until he had him in a corner to halter him. He led him out and to the cross ties in the barn. The mule stepped nervously, but calmed under the currycomb.
Adolph pulled his pickup into the yard and came into the barn. “I thought it was going to rain all day,” he said.
“Seemed like it.” Jake rubbed the mule’s belly with the comb and found he liked it. “I thought we’d start worming everybody.”
“I’ll get the list.”
Jake had found a list was necessary when giving the deworming paste. One of his donkeys liked the paste so much she’d crowd in to get a second dose.
“Anybody else showing up today?” Jake asked.
“Juan went to get a new valve for the donkey’s water trough.”
“Again?”
“They tear things up.”
“Don’t forget the list,” Jake said.
“You okay?” Adolph asked.
Jake tossed the currycomb down and picked up a stiff-bristled brush. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“I’ll get the list.”
“Sounds good. The medicine is on the front seat of my pickup. I’m going to lunge this guy a bit and I’ll join you.”
Adolph walked away. Jake realized he’d repeated himself and called out, “And don’t forget the list.”
“Yeah, the list.”
Jake cleaned out the mule’s hooves. He was a bit unwilling to lift his left hind foot and so Jake made a mental note to watch that side during the exercise. He took him out of the cross ties and to the arena. It usually dried faster than the round pen. The mule ran like a fool clockwise around him about five times until he settled down to a long trot. He let him go for a while without asking for anything. He moved well and Jake could see no unevenness or problem with his tracking. He slowed him, then had him walk. He had a nice walk. Jake stopped him, pulled him close, and scratched his neck. He turned him and sent him off into a walk the other way. He asked for a trot and the mule gave it to him. He asked for a canter and there it was, correct lead and everything. That was good for a first time out, he thought. Always end on a good note. Always end with compliance. He reeled him in and praised him. The mule tried to rub his big head against Jake’s jacket, but Jake wouldn’t let him. He scratched the animal’s nose with his hand.
Jake brushed the mule down, cleaned his hooves again, and put him back in the pasture. His phone rang. He walked over and answered the extension just inside the barn.
“This Jake Sweeney?”
“Yes.”
“This is Clark Daniels.”
“Yes?”
“Sarah’s husband.”
“I see.”
“I want to come by and talk to you,” the man said.
“Listen, I’m really busy and I don’t like being involved in other people’s business,” Jake told him.
“Just for a few minutes.”
Jake looked at the near-cloudless sky. It was a pale cerulean, looked like it hadn’t rained and like it never would again. “What’s this all
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The man hung up.
Jake set the receiver gently back into its cradle and stood for a few seconds. “Adolph!” he called out.
Adolph came from the far side of the paddocks.
“How many more to do?” Jake asked.
“I’m half-done.”
“We’ll finish them tomorrow. You go on home.”
“What? It’s early.”
“It’s fine. Just head on. I’ll take care of the feed and we can finish up the worming tomorrow.”
“You’re the boss.”
The hills were quiet. The road was quiet. So was the ranch. A hawk circled over the far field. Jake walked through his garden, paused at the Whisky Mac hybrid tea that Sarah had admired. He did not lean over to sniff it. The woman’s husband was on his way to Jake’s house and Jake had no idea what to expect, what to do. Did the man have the idea that his wife was having an affair with Jake? If Daniels did think that, what could Jake say that he would believe? Had the man seen Jake and Sarah at Bob’s Big Boy? He laughe
d to himself, felt the hollowness in his gut, and wished he had eaten that burger. He would wait for the man and handle what developed. Fretting wasn’t going to change anything.
Jake was blasting his roses with a narrow spray from the hose to remove aphids when the fancy Dodge pickup with the shiny bedcover came up the drive. He turned off the water and walked to the truck. A tall man with a belly got out from behind the wheel.
“Mr. Daniels,” Jake said.
“Clark,” the man said and reached out to shake.
Jake took his hand.
“Thanks for your time.”
Jake nodded. “What can I do for you?”
“I want to know about you and my wife.”
Jake bristled at the sound of that, but didn’t detect any malice. If anything the man seemed as confused as Jake. “There’s nothing to tell,” he said. “She brings her horse over here and I watch her ride occasionally.”
“I know that,” Daniels said.
“You know what?” Jake asked.
“That she comes over here. You know, she spends all of her time with that damn horse. That’s all she ever talks about. Then the other night she started talking about you.”
They were standing in Jake’s yard. Jake thought it felt strange to be standing outside talking like this.
“She told me you opened her eyes.”
“I’ve done a lot of things in my so-called life, but I’ve never opened anybody’s eyes.”
“She claims that a trail ride with you gave her the courage she needed to let me go.”
“She said that, did she?”
“She did.”
“You realize that there’s nothing between your wife and me. Not just romantically; we’re not even friends.”
“I believe that,” Daniels said, but Jake didn’t quite buy it. “I just want to know what you said to her.”
“Listen, I don’t know what I said to her. Probably the same thing I say to her every time I watch her ride her horse, to stop staring at his head and watch where she’s going.”
“That’s it?”
Jake looked at the big truck and then at the man for the first time. He was dressed sharply; one might have called him a dandy. His suede boots looked expensive. His shirt was starched. His trousers were creased. His hairline receded somewhat. He had large hands, but they were soft.
“She really loves all this horse shit,” Daniels said, then laughed at his accidental joke.
“She does,” Jake agreed. “She wants to be good at it.”
“Is she?”
“She’s afraid of horses.”
The man blew out a breath. “She’s afraid of a lot.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jake said. “It makes sense to be scared of horses. They’re half a ton of dynamite waiting to go off.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m not saying anything. Why does every-fucking-body think I’m trying to say more than I am? I’m saying that a horse can be dangerous. You can’t forget that. Your wife knows that.”
“Why does she like it then?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Jake said.
“Why do you like it?”
“I like horses. They’re honest. I haven’t had one cheat me or lie to me or betray me yet. And they allow me to ride them. Have you ever been on a horse?”
“No.”
Jake looked at the man, then around the pasture at the hills. “How much time do you have?”
“Why?”
“You got half an hour?”
“Okay.”
Jake brought Trotsky out of the pasture and led him to the hitching post outside his kitchen door. He gave the gelding’s back a quick brushing and cleaned out his hooves.
“How long have you been doing this?” Daniels asked.
“Most of my life,” Jake said. He left the man standing by the horse and grabbed a big roper’s saddle that he hardly used anymore. It had a deep seat and a high cantle, seemed to suck a rider in. He put the saddle on Trotsky’s back and reached beneath him for the cinch.
“What are you doing?” the man finally asked.
“I’m saddling a horse,” Jake said.
“I can see that. Why?”
“You’re going to ride him.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Listen, I don’t know you or your wife, but here you are at my house looking for answers. You asked me why she loves horses. I’m going to see if this helps you understand. I can’t make you get on this beast. I can’t do that any more than I can make this giant animal do something he doesn’t want to do.”
Daniels looked at his truck like he wanted to jump in it and drive off down the road.
“Come on. Two walks around an enclosed arena and you’ll know just a little more than you knew before you came here. Maybe.”
Jake didn’t wait for a reply. He walked the horse away from the post and toward the arena. Daniels followed. In the arena, Jake took the horse to the mounting block. He looked at Daniels.
“What?”
“Get on. Step up there and throw your leg over.”
Daniels did. Jake handed him the reins. “You want to go left, you touch the right side of his neck with the reins. Right, the left side.”
“I don’t know about this.”
“Relax. Nice shoes, by the way.”
“How do I make him go?”
“Say, ‘Walk on.’”
“Walk on.”
Trotsky did. He hung his head and walked like he thought he was carrying a kid. He brought the man all the way around. Jake waved him on.
A car came into the yard. It was Sarah Daniels. She parked near her husband’s truck and walked down the slope to the arena. Jake turned and walked past her on his way to his house. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at her. He just let her walk down to the arena.
Jake went back to his roses. Damn aphids.
The Day Comes
“All I know is them cows didn’t shoot themselves.” Hugh Rakes walked around to the other side of the corral. The steers were back-to-back and head to tail in the mud. It was raining hard. The damage to their heads was unmistakable. Some large-caliber weapon had done it.
Sheriff Howard Gunther, Rakes’s closest neighbor, snapped a few photos of the dead cows and shook his head. The early evening was cold and he wished he were at home.
“I was up clearing out that damn culvert. Didn’t hear a fucking thing.” Rakes took his hat off, slapped the rain off it, and put it back on.
“This one’s been shot twice,” Gunther said.
“Yeah. He wasn’t quite dead when I found them and I had to finish the job. Son of a bitch. If I find the son of a bitch that did this I’m going to—”
“We don’t need talk like that, Hugh. I know you’re upset. I wish I could tell you I had some idea.” Gunther stepped away and looked at the soaked dirt-and-gravel yard. “Well, let’s circle our way away from the pen and see if we can find some shell casings in this mess.”
“This one is mine,” Rakes said, handing the spent round to the sheriff. “I picked it up for you.”
Gunther took it and put it in his pocket. It helped to have it only because he wouldn’t have to find it himself. They found nothing. “So, he picked up his brass. That the way you see it?”
“Must have.”
Gunther put away his camera and frowned at the rain. “At least your insurance will take care of it. It will take care of your loss, won’t it?”
Rakes nodded, rubbed his hand through his hair.
Gunther watched him for a bit.
“Goddamn,” Rakes said.
“I’ll be off now,” Gunther said.
“Yeah, all right.”
Gunther got into his rig. He sat there for a minute watching the worn wipers streak the windshield. He then drove the mile to his house. He walked into the kitchen and found his wife sitting at the table writing out checks to pay the bills.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
/>
“I was over at Rakes’s place. He was showing me his cows that were mysteriously murdered.”
“What?”
“I almost believed him until he claimed he was cleaning out the old culvert. County cleaned that out last month.”
“Why would he shoot his own animals?” Karen asked.
“Insurance. They weren’t his best animals. I could see that he’d switched ear tags. Probably would have done that anyway. He’s up there now dressing out those steers and saving what meat he can.”
“What are you going to do?”
Gunther shrugged. “Nothing. It’s fraud either way. The insurance agent will come around and I will confirm that the stock were shot and that will be it. I hate this fucking job.” He poured himself a cup of coffee. “You want some more?”
Karen shook her head no.
“Don’t get me wrong, I like that nothing ever happens around here. I hate that all I do is put people I know in lockup for DUI. Remember that song ‘Lineman for the County’? Well, that job’s a hell of a lot more interesting than mine.”
“But you’ve got me,” Karen said.
Gunther leaned over and kissed her forehead. “That is true, isn’t it? I don’t know how it happened, but it’s true.”
The next morning Gunther left his wife asleep in the bed, dressed, and left for his office. He stopped on the way and walked into the Square Wheel Diner. It had been called the Wagon Wheel, but so much of the business now came from the RV park across the road that the owner changed the name. The RVers could walk over and at once identify with the reference to having to wait for their tires to warm up on the road on cold mornings before assuming any roundness. The locals came in, too, and Gunther sat at a table with Dorothy Wise and Danny Denton.
“I’ll start with some coffee, ma’am,” Gunther told the waitress. “A little milk with that.”
“So,” Wise said.
“So? So what?” Gunther looked at the menu, though he knew it by heart.
“Why bother looking at that?” Denton said. “You order the same thing every time. Hell, they’re back there cooking it right now.”
“I could change.”
Half an Inch of Water: Stories Page 9