by Ari McKay
Jules nodded eagerly. “It’s wonderful of you to give them this opportunity, and I’m excited that so many wish to take advantage of it. I know I can help them, and it’ll improve their lives a great deal. I know it will.”
“It will allow those who want to move on from Bent Oak an advantage in seeking employment elsewhere,” Gil replied. “It will also allow those who remain to expand their responsibilities if they wish to. Beyond that, they will be able to enjoy the pleasure of reading and corresponding with their families, which I believe is one of the main motivations.” He chuckled quietly. “One young man mentioned wanting to write love notes to his sweetheart.”
Jules smiled. “Any reason for learning is a good one, no matter what it is. When would you like me to start? I could begin right away, and it’ll give me motivation to get better with the crutches.”
“Give me a day or so to get a list of ‘students,’” Gil replied. “You could begin the day after tomorrow, if that’s enough time to prepare your curriculum?”
“Oh, certainly. I have curricula already for every grade. It’ll simply be a matter of placing the hands at the right level, as I would students at a small school.” Jules lifted the basin of potatoes and placed it on the table, and then he pushed his wheelchair back. “Is there a chalkboard to be had? Or we can even make do with a wall painted dark, if I have chalk. Since we won’t have enough texts for the hands, I’ll have to do a lot of writing.”
“I will ask if the school board has any slates to spare,” Gil replied. “If there are any other supplies you need, make a list. Bent Oak will cover the cost.”
“Excellent!” Jules seemed excited enough to jump up out of the wheelchair without help. “Thank you, Gil. I won’t let you down, I promise.”
“If you need any assistance in setting up the classroom or with any other preparations, I am willing to help,” Carlos said at last. He was glad to see Jules so enthusiastic, and he was eager to do whatever it took to keep that happy light in Jules’s eyes.
Jules hesitated, but after a long moment, he nodded. “Thank you, I would appreciate it. I need to practice on the crutches, since trying to get the wheelchair out to the classroom would be rather difficult, I’m sure.”
“I believe you would find the crutches more manageable,” Carlos agreed, hope flaring higher at the little bit of progress. Jules had called on Al far more for help, and Carlos suspected Jules was trying to keep his distance. “We could practice later, when you have finished peeling the potatoes.”
“Right, the potatoes.” Jules chuckled. “I should finish what I started. I lectured Al enough as a child about not getting distracted by the things he might want to do until he finished the things he promised to do.”
Beaming, Gil pushed back his chair and stood up. “I’ll speak to the hands and see who would like to be in your class. I should have a list for you by this evening.”
Jules wheeled himself back to the table and picked up his knife. “That would be perfect. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I feel like you’re giving me my life back.”
“It will mean a lot to the hands as well,” Gil replied. “Many of them never had the chance to go to school or their education was cut short. You’re offering the opportunity for them to broaden their horizons, and I appreciate that. I want everyone here to feel valued and to understand there is more to life than work.”
“Which we appreciate,” Carlos said quietly. He had worked for many ranchers who saw their hands as disposable and interchangeable, especially the men who were poor, uneducated, or not white. But Gil and Matt valued their hands, and Bent Oak was the first place Carlos had ever felt truly at home.
“I must admit, Mercy is a unique place, and Bent Oak is part of what makes it special.” Jules sighed softly. “I wish I’d come here years ago.”
“You’re here now, and that’s the important thing.” Gil patted Jules’s shoulder. “You’re welcome to call Bent Oak home for as long as you like.”
“That’s very generous of you,” Jules replied, smiling up at Gil. “I appreciate the offer. I’ll certainly stay at least until I’ve helped the hands as much as I can or until the schoolhouse in Mercy is rebuilt.”
Carlos hated the thought of Jules leaving the ranch. He liked living under the same roof with Jules and taking care of him in whatever ways he would allow.
“Excellent.” Gil smiled, appearing pleased as he headed to the door. “I’ll be back later with the list,” he added before waving goodbye and letting himself out.
Carlos watched Jules peel potatoes for a moment. “Thank you for agreeing,” he said at last. “I know of several hands who will be glad they can write their own letters rather than dictating to someone else or sending none at all.”
“I can understand that.” Jules peeked up at Carlos. “I remember you wanted to improve your English, and that was why you sought me out. At least at first.”
“At first,” Carlos agreed with a little smile. “I thought being able to read and write would make ranch owners more inclined to hire me. But then I grew more interested in my teacher than in my lessons.”
“I like to think I still managed to teach you something,” Jules replied tartly.
Carlos knelt beside Jules’s chair and clasped his hand. “You taught me a great deal,” he said, gazing up at Jules somberly. “My skill at reading, writing, and speaking English improved because of you, and I am grateful for it. I have no doubt you will help the men here at Bent Oak as much as you helped me.”
Jules’s fingers were warm in Carlos’s hand, and he didn’t pull away. “I hope I can,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “I’m going to try.”
“You will succeed because you are a born teacher, no matter the age of your pupil.” Carlos paused, rubbing the back of Jules’s hand with his thumb. “I hope none of your pupils develop an extracurricular interest in you as I did, however,” he added, trying to sound like he was teasing. He had no right to be jealous or possessive, but he couldn’t help it.
Jules raised one eyebrow. “Do you think that likely?” he asked, his blue eyes intent on Carlos’s face. “I figured out Matt and Gil are lovers, and they obviously know about us, but are many other of the hands of our persuasion?”
“One that I am aware of,” Carlos replied, thinking of Caleb. “I suspect there are others. Bent Oak seems to attract those who are different and need a place to belong.”
“I see.” Jules frowned, and pulled his hand away. “How fortunate you’ve found a place to belong at last.”
Carlos could easily guess what Jules was thinking, and he captured Jules’s hand again and squeezed it tight. “I am aware of him. I am not now nor have I ever been his lover. The only man I desire on this ranch is you.”
“I know you want me.” Jules tried to tug his hand free. “You’ve made that clear enough, and I believe it. I suppose it’s no use saying I’m not attracted to you. But it comes back to trust, Carlos. Just because you’re here now is no guarantee you’ll still be here and still want me in a year. It’s no guarantee you won’t break my heart again, and I can’t risk it.”
“I could promise you that I will still be here, and I would know it is true, but I understand why you would not.” Carlos rocked back on his heels as he mulled over an idea. Words wouldn’t be enough to convince Jules, but perhaps Carlos could show how committed he was to Bent Oak and by extension, to Jules himself. “I would like to show you something. Will you agree to go for a ride with me one day after your class?”
Jules studied him in silence. “If you promise it isn’t a prelude to an attempted seduction, then yes,” he replied. “I can hardly run away from you, after all.”
“I promise I will not try to seduce you. If I were going to do that, I have had ample opportunities while you lay flat on your back in a convenient bed, but I have not and would not take advantage of you in such a way,” Carlos pointed out. “I want you in my arms eagerly and willingly, not under coercion.”
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��All right.” Jules seemed to accept his word, which was a step in the direction of regaining trust, at least. “After class one day, then.”
“Soon, perhaps, before it grows too cold.” Carlos squeezed Jules’s hand again before releasing it and standing up.
Jules turned his attention back to the potatoes. “I must finish these so I can practice with the crutches.”
“I am going to wash up,” Carlos said. “When you have finished, call me, and we shall practice.”
“All right. Thank you,” Jules replied, picking up the knife.
As much as Carlos wanted to linger in the kitchen with Jules, he knew he should probably give Jules some space before their practice session with the crutches. He was making progress, he thought as he left the kitchen. Slow progress, perhaps, but that was better than none at all.
Chapter Twelve
“…AND SO if a hand can ride five miles of fence in an hour, and Bent Oak has two hundred miles of fence, how long would it take one hand to ride every mile of fence?”
The cowboy standing beside Jules at the black-painted wall frowned in concentration as he mulled over the question. Deke Hanson was in his late teens, but his face was already weathered from years of working outside, and his fair hair had been bleached almost white by the sun. He lifted his hand, wrote, 200 on the board, then hesitantly drew a division symbol, followed by a 5.
“That’s right, Deke. That’s the right way to set up the problem,” Jules said, his tone encouragingly. “Now, can you solve the equation?”
Deke frowned, then nodded and set to the task, muttering under his breath. “Five goes into five one time, five goes into ten two times….” His lips moved as he ran through the tables; then he wrote, 40. “How’s that, Mr. Wingate?”
“Perfect!” Jules balanced himself carefully on his crutches so he could give Deke a pat on the back, and Deke beamed at the praise. “Now let’s go a step further. If it takes one hand forty hours, how long would it take for five hands to do it?”
As Deke pondered the question, Jules glanced over the other students in his informal class. Gil had underestimated the interest the hands showed in furthering their education, and there were twenty-six men currently seated at tables and benches in the dining hall, some of them with slates, others with paper and pencil, and many of them with books open in their hands. Most of the men had received some schooling during their youth and needed some refreshing, but a few had never had a chance to attend school at all. There were even some who had completed up through the middle grades, but wanted Jules’s guidance on what other things they needed to know to be better at their jobs or, as Jules secretly suspected, to impress the young ladies of Mercy.
He’d been holding classes for a week, setting aside an hour or more each evening after the hands finished their chores. Those not interested in Jules’s help gathered outside, sitting around a fire and singing or drinking, but Jules wasn’t offended even by the ones who had rolled their eyes and teased their fellows for “getting swelled heads” or “putting on airs.” He was pleased to be teaching again, and it felt good to be working with students, all of whom really wanted to learn. Most small children were eager to please their teacher, of course, but many older students came to class only because their parents made them.
“Eight!” Deke looked at Jules anxiously. “It’s eight, ain’t it?”
“It certainly is.” Jules smiled as Deke’s face lit up with genuine delight. He’d confided to Jules that he would like to have his own spread one day, and he knew he needed more education to accomplish that. Given Deke seemed determined to succeed, Jules thought his chances were good. “Why don’t you work on your nine times tables now?”
Deke picked up a wet cloth to erase his chalked math problems before retrieving a slate from the table in the corner and finding a seat among his fellows. The men had been solicitous of Jules, keeping the improvised board cleaned and urging him to get off his feet when they thought he’d been standing too long. In return, Jules had loaned them his own personal books to read and made certain to keep his math problems and writing assignments relevant to what a ranch hand would use in his job.
He pulled out his pocket watch and saw it was almost suppertime. He would have been happy to spend more time working with them, but he knew how much of an appetite they worked up with the physical labor they did all day, and he wasn’t going to keep them. As it was, a few of the hands usually approached him after their supper to ask questions or have him check their work, and Jules was more than happy to do so.
“We’ll pick up tomorrow, gentlemen,” he said, replacing the watch and balancing himself on his crutches before making his way to the door. “Good job. I’m pleased with all of you.”
“Thanks, Mr. Wingate,” Chuck, a grizzled man close to Jules’s age, said as he opened the door for Jules. “I really like this book you gave me to read. I ain’t never seen the sea, but that Herman Melville sure can describe it, can’t he?”
“Indeed he can, Chuck,” Jules replied, then stepped out of the bunkhouse, smiling happily. He found it tricky to negotiate the steps, but he was getting better at it, and he made it to the ground with only a brief moment of terror that he might fall.
Carlos was standing nearby, holding a covered basket, and he stepped forward when he saw Jules emerge from the dining hall. “Are you ready for our ride?” he asked. “I have a supper to take with us.”
For a moment, all Jules could do was stare. Carlos’s dark hair was still damp and had been neatly combed, and he was clean-shaven rather than sporting the stubble most of the hands favored now that the weather was turning colder. His black shirt was clean and pressed, and he wore snug jeans that drew the eye to his lean hips. Even though Carlos’s expression was warm and affectionate, rather than heated, desire hit Jules like a blow to the stomach, and he struggled to draw in a breath and get himself under control. Even though Carlos had promised not to seduce him, it appeared Carlos was going to do everything else he could to make Jules want him with a soul-deep ache.
“Today?” he managed to ask, his voice husky. He tried to come up with an excuse to put off the outing, but his mind was blank. He wanted to go with Carlos, which meant he probably shouldn’t, but he couldn’t think of a reasonable way to refuse.
“We should take advantage of the fair weather while we can,” Carlos replied. “It will be turning cold soon.”
Jules glanced at the buckboard and team Carlos had brought and saw there were blankets on the seat, and Jules’s coat was on top of them. “I suppose you’re right. Can you please help me up into the buckboard?”
“Of course.” Carlos took the crutches and stowed them in the back of the buckboard, and then he hoisted Jules up enough that he could step on with his good foot with a show of easy strength.
The display did nothing to ease the desire Jules felt, so he moved as quickly as he could, dropping into the seat and reaching for his coat. He slipped it on as Carlos joined him. “Where are we going?”
Carlos swung himself up to the driver’s seat and draped one of the blankets over Jules’s lap. “I want to show you Bent Oak Ranch,” he replied as he put on his coat as well. “If we have time before it gets too dark, I would like to show you some of the area surrounding Mercy too.”
Jules raised one eyebrow, curious. “When you said you wanted to show me something, you meant the ranch?” he asked. “Not that I’m not interested, but why?”
Carlos slanted an enigmatic smile at him before picking up the reins and signaling the pretty bay mare to start walking. “I thought it might benefit you to see the full spread. Perhaps it will help you better understand your pupils—and me.”
Jules was silent as Carlos drove them away from the cluster of buildings. He knew Bent Oak was big, so he wasn’t certain how much Carlos thought he could see before sunset. But he’d given his word, so he settled into the seat, looking around with interest. He’d been unconscious when he’d been brought here, and so everything was new to him.
Bent Oak was a vast spread, the rolling expanses of prairie neatly enclosed in what had to be miles of wire fencing attached to wooden posts. The trail they followed was well-worn, the ground compressed beneath horses’ hooves and wagon wheels over many years. A gentle breeze blew across the open land, stirring the short grass in the browning hay fields. Jules didn’t mind the dying time of year, after the last of the greens had dimmed but before snow blanketed everything. He rather liked it, the way the world felt like it was poised between one breath and the next, a brief pause that he found strangely restful. Or perhaps it was because the scenery reminded him of the poetry he so loved, gifting the land with life beyond merely the sight that greeted his eyes.
Carlos took his time as he pointed out the pastures where herds of horses roamed, and the ones where they pulled in the calves at branding time in the spring. There was even an orchard of peach trees and a smaller one of apples. Carlos told him Vernon Porter, Gil’s uncle who had founded Bent Oak, loved apple pie and wanted to have his own supply of apples. There was even a swimming hole that iced over if the winter was especially cold, and Carlos said the hands were fond of spending time there in the summer, when the weather could be brutally hot.
Everything Jules saw was orderly and well-kept, and even though Carlos didn’t own the ranch, there was pride in his voice when he spoke of how he was helping Gil and Matt expand the horse-breeding operation to reduce the ranch’s dependency on the unstable cattle market. His dark eyes glowed as he described the way he was establishing a bloodline unique to the ranch, and how Corazon was one of the foundation stallions. It was definitely a different side to the Carlos Jules had once known; that young man had been interested in living in the moment, not in making plans for the future. Jules realized something else as well: Bent Oak truly had become Carlos’s home and he didn’t want to lose it.
When they reached an overlook that offered an expansive view of the entire ranch, Carlos stopped the buckboard, secured it, and swung down.