by Rose, Amelia
“I guess I’m just not a natural born horseman. Horsewoman. Cowboy. Oh, whatever.” Amy looked self-consciously at the others from their group, who were planted at various points along the ranks of cattle. Everyone seemed to be engaged in what they were doing, maybe not all of them smiling and laughing as they worked, but at least determined-looking and taking an active part in the drive.
“Well, I heard your friend over there, and she’s only partly right. You don’t have to go attacking the horse, but you do have to tell him what to do. Think of it this way, he really wants to do what you want him to, but no one told him what you want. He doesn’t speak your language. What would you do if I walked up to you and rattled off a bunch of stuff in Chinese? You’d just stand there, looking confused. I could shove you and kick you and make you move, I could even shout at you in Chinese, but you still wouldn’t know what I wanted. Here.”
Carey reached across Amy and took the reins from her hands, causing her pulse to beat that much faster at being so close to someone as rugged and drop-dead gorgeous as Carey. He flicked the reins lightly so that the hanging loop gently slapped against the horse’s front shoulder while nudging the animal’s rear shoulder with the toe of his boot. Amy looked relieved when the horse began to walk purposefully, not rearing or taking off, but moving with purpose along with the rest of the group.
“See there? That’s his language. I just told him to go forward and step with his right leg first. The problem is a sudden jerk of his reins will tell him that there’s a danger ahead but if he doesn’t see any danger, he’s going to be really confused by why you’re acting crazy. Just give your instructions gently but firmly.”
“I just don’t want to hurt him,” Amy said quietly, scratching at the horse’s neck in front of her saddle.
“But now you’re confusing him,” Carey laughed. “You told him to move forward, but then you told him to stand still so you could scratch him! Which one do you think he’s going to do, walk or be petted?” Carey smiled at Amy, understanding that she was so far out of her element that he couldn’t assume she knew what he meant. “He knows you like him, and you can pet him all you want when you’re done working. Remember, these aren’t our pets. Even though we care for them and make sure they’re as happy as they can be, they’re still working members of the ranch, just like all of us cowboys. No one’s coming up behind me and giving me a back rub when I’m out here!”
I’d like to, Amy thought, causing a sudden blush to shine through the fair skin of her cheeks and surprising herself with the brazen thought. I could do more than that, too.
Carey couldn’t help but notice her embarrassment and didn’t let himself even wonder what thought she’d had that caused it. He nodded awkwardly and tipped his hat, then rode back toward the front to check on the others. He looked back once or twice to make sure she was still doing okay, and was taken aback when he caught her looking at him one time.
“How’s the babysitting going?” a ranch hand said under his breath when Carey began to pass around him.
“I think it’s okay,” he answered, looking over the new people and counting them to make sure they were all still with the group. “No one too obnoxious or too incompetent, I’m just worried about a couple of them who obviously haven’t been on a horse before.”
“Hey, if it’s any help at all, there’s a couple of ‘em back there who can ride right up here with me,” the hand said slyly, patting the saddle in front of him. “Wouldn’t mind having to see a few of their faces more closely for the rest of the trip! I mean, only if it helps you, of course!.”
“You say that now,” Carey said with a quiet laugh. “There’s one or two in that group who would rip your chest open with their claws and feast on your beating heart!” The hand, David, laughed so loudly, he startled a nearby steer.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I met that one already. She took offense when I called her ‘ma’am’, then told me not to single her out by ‘labeling her with her imposed gender identity.’ I’m not exactly sure what that means, but I think it’s just safer if I don’t address her ever again!”
“Just don’t make eye contact or speak in her presence, and for the love of Pete, don’t look at her chest. I don’t want to have to scrape up pieces of you from here to Missouri!” Carey slapped David on the shoulder then continued on.
Chapter Three
By the time lunch rolled around, Bernard had assembled his remaining Carson sons—Carey, Joseph, Seamus, and Jacob—and the two foremen who still worked for the ranch. As much as Bernard hated to admit it, this particular drive had gone so much more smoothly—even with Casey’s absence as the oldest son—and the only thing he could attribute it to was the loss of Jack, a longtime foreman for Carson Hill. He wondered, once again, if he’d given the foreman far too much leeway over the two decades Jack had worked for him, especially considering he was crazy enough to murder someone and was now sitting in the state prison, hopefully rotting. The whole thing had made Bernard wonder how much he really knew any of the thirty or forty outsiders who lived on his ranch and worked with his family, day after day.
The faces of his small crew looked up at him from their seats around the table in the large bus-like RV that served as his office during the drive. There were sleeping bunks and a shower that various members of the group could take turns using, and a real bathroom for any one of the paying visitors who was too squeamish to use the facilities the great outdoors had to offer.
Maps were spread on the table in front of them, with marked waypoints as to where they would stop each day. The only thing different about this meeting compared to the same meetings that took place during round ups from a hundred years ago was the presence of iPads, handheld GPS devices, Bernard’s laptop, and a few more 21st century items that helped guarantee the drive went off with as little disruption and risk as possible. A satellite phone stood up on the table and its green power LED shone, connecting the middle son, Anders, to the meeting from his place back home in the ranch office.
“I don’t see any reason why we can’t just add two or three miles a day to the trip and cut out a whole day of the drive,” one of the foreman, Dwayne, argued again, pointing to the different spots past each waypoint that would still have plenty of water and access for the vehicles to meet up with the group. “We’ve never had weather this good, and we’re making really great time. We can press on and pick up the pace now.”
Even though they were twins, Casey had always held the unofficial position as the oldest Carson boy, the oldest brother, and by rights, that made him more of Bernard’s second-in-command. So when everyone looked at Carey, he fought the urge to look over his shoulder for Casey. When he realized that his brother’s absence meant he was now a louder voice in the decisions that had to be made, it was both exciting and a little bit unnerving as everyone looked at him for input.
“Well,” he began, clearing his throat. “If we walk the cattle more than thirty miles a day, we’re going to have some awfully skinny cows to sell when we finally arrive in Missouri. These are animals whose whole lives have been spent just standing around, eating grass all day. If we push ‘em too hard, we’re liable to lose a lot of their numbers.
“Plus, we have the city people to think about. They paid to come out here for a full drive, and we provided a detailed itinerary so that they could check in with family and friends back home at each of the designated spots. They even get to take that day trip once we reach the state line, remember?”
“Is this a vacation, or a cattle drive?” Dwayne demanded, a tone of disgust creeping into his voice. Bernard watched Carey’s face silently to see how he would handle both the second-guessing and the mild impertinence from one of their employees.
“It’s both,” Carey said in a stern, level voice, looking Dwayne directly in the eye.
“Our ranch’s income comes from the sale of the cattle, but also from the tourists who come along each time. We have an obligation to get those cows there in one piece and in g
ood shape, but we also owe it to the people who sent in their checks to take part in it. If we didn’t want those people along on ‘vacation’, then we shouldn’t have invited them.” Carey let his words sink in and paused to let Dwayne remember that he was talking to one of the future owners of Carson Hill Ranch. Then, he relaxed his expression and lowered his voice to a conversational tone.
“We can’t go changing it up now, not when they’ve paid good money to take part in this drive. We’re just gonna have to leave the plans like they are, and count our blessings that the weather has cooperated enough to give us a nice leisurely walk. Besides, it’ll give us some extra cushion in case we have any delays and do have to speed up later on.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, even Dwayne, and the fluttering feeling in the pit of Carey’s stomach died down some. He’d never been the one to speak out and help make the decisions, because he’d always been happy to let Casey take the lead and to support whatever his brother thought up. Now, he sensed the very real loss of his twin and felt alone for the first time since Carey drove away with Miranda. It stung to suddenly find himself out on his own a little, and he couldn’t wait for this drive to be over and to head back to the ranch, where they could all be the Carson boys again.
The meeting broke up and the small group descended the steps of the RV to join the other hands and cowboys as they ate their lunch. After getting his plate from the kitchen truck, still affectionately called the chuck wagon as a throwback to the olden days, Carey looked around for a spot to sit down and eat. His attention was pulled to the loud voices of an argument that had broken out among the city people. Walking that way quickly, he caught enough of the conversation to piece together that someone had gone and offended the feminist…again.
“Hi, folks!” Carey called out affectionately, ignoring the ugly looks passing between some of the group members and the irritated glare Karen shot in his direction. He couldn’t help but notice that Amy had her head down, looking at the untouched plate in her lap. He dropped down on the grass right beside her with his plate and asked, “Mind if I join you guys? I’m starved!”
Most of them mumbled their agreement and went back to their food and out of the corner of his eye, Carey saw Amy look at him and smile sheepishly. Carey leaned very close to her, so close that she could smell the scent of soap and sunscreen off his skin, and whispered, “What did I miss?”
Amy shrugged, then looked around nervously before answering. “Apparently, ‘cowboy’ is an ugly word to my people.”
He narrowed his eyes in confusion before asking for clarity. “Your people?”
“Girl people. I think we’re not supposed to tolerate anyone calling us ‘cowboys’ but then, it turns out that ‘cowgirls’ is also off-limits after Bob over there was nice enough to suggest that everyone politely use that word instead.”
“What does Karen want everyone to call you then?” Carey said, trying desperately not to laugh, especially once he spied Karen fuming when she noticed Amy talking to him. Of all the stupid arguments for people to have, this one had to be somewhere near the top of the list.
Amy shrugged again. “Cow people? I think? I was trying really hard not to pay attention, but you know how she is.”
“Cow people.”
“Yup.” Amy took a forkful of food and chewed thoughtfully as she remembered the argument over labels, then swallowed before adding, “I might have my terminology wrong, but that’s what I suggested just to keep the peace.”
“Do you really want to be called a ‘cow people’? Because I can totally be respectful to everyone, but even I’m gonna have a hard time remembering to call you cow people.”
“What about cow humans?” she suggested in a hushed voice, giving Carey an uncharacteristically conspiratorial grin.
“Now that I can do. I can really get behind not labeling people, so we’ll go with ‘cow humans.’” Carey slid one of the extra cookies off his plate onto her plate as he talked, gesturing with his fork that she needed to eat up now that the sexism ruckus had died down. “So, have you learned to speak horse yet?”
“Fluently, as a matter of fact. My horse and I were actually just having a lovely discussion just this morning on which he thinks will win the next election. Turns out, my horse is voting independent.”
“Well, that explains about sixty percent of the problem you’ve been having with your horse,” he replied knowingly.
“What, you don’t like his political views?” she demanded with mock anger.
“No, I meant because your horse is a girl, not a boy. I can’t speak for everyone, but the gender is usually the first thing most people can tell about a horse, if you know what I mean.” He chuckled to himself, then actually laughing out loud when he caught Amy’s bemused expression.
“Well, maybe I’m not that kind of girl,” she said, turning her head nonchalantly and feigning indifference. “I don’t go around peeking between farm animals’ legs, I’ll have you know. I was raised better than that.” The conversation proved to be too hilarious. She couldn’t maintain her straight face any longer, and quickly fell victim to a fit of giggles.
Carey laughed loudly, surprised by Amy’s sense of humor. She blushed again at the attention and cast a sideways glance at Karen’s disgusted look. He noticed the sudden enmity between the two women and asked about it. “Is your friend over there upset? You two arguing?”
“Oh, she’s not my friend, not really,” Amy answered softly, turning more toward Carey’s direction to keep their conversation private. “I only met her on the bus from the airport, and I just kind of latched onto her. She seems to know what she’s doing, so I just kind of tagged along. She’s very…”
“…Bossy? Cranky? Mean? Bitchy? Murdery?” Carey suggested.
“…Intense. And I don’t think ‘murdery’ is a real word.”
“Neither is ‘cow people,’ but that hasn’t stopped anyone. Oh, you have to finish eating, looks like we’re heading out soon. Thanks for letting me have lunch with you,” Carey said, before scraping the rest of his food up with his spoon.
“No problem. It was nice to have a calm, quiet conversation during a meal for once.” Amy smiled when Carey stood and offered her his hand, holding her steady and helping her up. He turned to offer his hand to Karen as well, but pulled his arm back as though she would bite when she looked at him with contempt and stood up on her own.
“Well, I’m open for quiet conversation at every meal. I’ll be sure to look for you at dinner. I’ll just have to follow the sounds of rabid snarling,” Carey promised as bent closer to Amy’s ear, jerking his head slightly toward where Karen stood behind him.
“Sounds great,” Amy said, smiling at him genuinely as he took her plate and stacked it with his own, then watched him walk back to the chuck wagon to return them. He gave her a small wave before heading off to where his horse was tethered.
“I didn’t realize you’d signed up for a single's cruise,” Karen said snidely as she passed. “I thought you were here to learn a little bit about being your own woman and taking care of yourself.”
Amy sighed and squared her shoulders before turning to face Karen. “I’m here to learn to make my own decisions, too, not to let other people dictate how I should behave. If I happen to have a seat beside someone while I eat, who treats me respectfully and with basic human manners, then that is no one else’s concern.” She tossed her curly hair over her shoulder and slapped her hat back on her head, marching confidently to follow the rest of the group to their horses.
What am I doing? Amy thought, shocked. I’ve never spoken to anyone like that before! My mother would have a fit if she’d heard me be so rude! And it was true. Only a week ago, Karen’s remark would have sent Amy to an empty stall in the nearest ladies' room, ready to dissolve in a snot-filled puddle of tears. Now, Amy dared her to criticize her again, her previous life and her mother be damned. No one was going to talk down to her, but that didn’t mean she had to turn into a witch like Karen to stand h
er ground. Maybe there was something to what she’d heard about these confidence-building trips…and to what she’d always heard about good-looking cowboys.
Karen watched her go, shaking her head in frustration at the way some women threw themselves at the nearest available human with a penis. But this was one time she wasn’t going to sit by and watch while some man took advantage of a clueless women who was only using half a brain. She stomped off after Carey, ready to give him a piece of her mind, and Amy’s mind, too, for that matter, as the girl clearly wasn’t able to do it herself.
Chapter Four
Unfortunately, no one told her horse that Amy had decided to become a new woman who wasn’t taking crap from people anymore. The animal was just as stubborn as before, even though she tried to speak to him soothingly while still being firm. It was almost as if the animal could smell and respond to Amy’s nervousness, as though being unsure of herself around the oversized creature was a tangible scent.
After taking a deep breath, she hoisted her booted foot up into the stirrup to lift herself into the saddle, only every time she started to put her weight on that leg, the horse would take one step forward. Amy would drop her weight back down on her standing leg in defeat, her boot still in her stirrup, and the horse would hold still once again.
But as soon as she took her weight off the ground and tried pulling herself up into the saddle, the stupid thing would walk again, moving forward and out from under Amy’s much-needed leverage. She spoke to the horse calmly and reassuringly but every time she inched off the ground, the dumb beast would take a step.
I went to college, you stupid horse! You’re not outsmarting me, she thought angrily, seething to herself in frustration. Moving hopefully too fast for the horse to notice, Amy took a leap as she pulled herself up, aiming herself forward this time so she would move with the horse. Feeling the shift in her weight, the animal stepped backward instead, throwing Amy off balance. When she tried putting her foot back on the ground, the level surface wasn’t where she thought it should be, causing her to lose her footing. In its confusion, the horse took off running, dragging Amy along by the foot that was still trapped and twisted within the stirrup.