Be My Warmth

by Shanade White

  “One a five year old girl thought was a good idea at the time. I actually think she wanted to call him ‘Great Huge Fire Cracker Horsie,’ but we compromised with his current moniker.”

  Whitney snorted. “That’s brilliant! ‘Spose Graham Cracker suits him. Really not sure why he likes eating my hair, though.”

  Bob shrugged, grinning. “That’s partly why I’m surprised. You see, since you’re new to the ranch, there’s a few things you don’t yet know about it. For example, this horse hates everyone – except me. And that’s because I’m an incredibly charming individual.”

  “That so? I’ll take your word for it. You do have them pretty white teeth.” Did I just say that?

  Bob showed them off at the mention. “White as new-born baby teeth.”

  “You may be misinformed. New-born babies don’t have teeth.”

  “Eh. Details.” Bob flicked his wrist. “Toddler teeth, then.”

  Whitney laughed. Graham Cracker let out a whinny. “What you said ‘bout the horse, though, he seems pretty friendly to me. No hate there.” She stroked under Graham Cracker’s chin. He tilted his head eagerly, wanting more scratches, and she obliged.

  “Yeah, well, I can’t really explain why. He’s always been a devil like that. There he is, being evil as usual. Then here you are, minding your own business, and he suddenly decides he would really like to meet you. Complete beeline, like you got a magnet in one of them pockets. Got me curious enough to wonder who the pretty lady that captivated my horse is.”

  Whitney grinned at the implied compliment. “Guess he sees something in me. Other than my hair.”

  “Hmm.” Bob inspected the two of them, expression unfathomable behind his glasses and beard. “Guess he does.”

  “Don’t tell him I’m useless with horses, though. Never been to a ranch. Never ever seen a horse up close.”

  Bob’s jaw dropped. For a moment, he couldn’t speak, or breathe. “Y-you’re serious? Lady, at this point, you’re bonding with a horse trained experts have difficulty with. You’re telling me you never rode before?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well.” Bob collected himself together. “Lucky you’re all getting training. All city people, I take it?”

  “Eh. Some of ‘em know their way around the animals. I just plan to look like I know what I’m doing without freaking out.”

  “That’s usually the best way to go about things. As long as you look supremely confident on the outside, no one will know that on the inside, there’s a panic frenzy going on.”

  Whitney found Bob strange, but pleasing to talk to. Not wanting him to run off, she engaged in a different topic. In the background, she saw Faith approaching, camera shielding her face – drawn to Graham Cracker’s antics.

  “How long you been working at this ranch for, then? You look content to be here.” Whitney studied Bob’s features more intently. Not much peeked out of the face bush that covered his more prominent features. She figured him to be some kind of country hillbilly, not well versed in personal grooming. The accent really seemed out of place, however. It suggested a good education, and time spent in the city.

  “Most of my life,” Bob admitted. “It’s the kind of job that consumes a lot of the empty hours in our lives. Often I’ll be up before sunrise and attending to duties – if we need to collect in the grazing horses for winter or for riding, I’ll be out herding them in with a few other hands. Good time to go for a ride too, before the daily activities kick into action.”

  “Pre-dawn rides? Almost sounds romantic. And dangerous. Of the neck-breaking variety.” Graham Cracker stopped bothering Whitney at last, instead pressing his bulk against the fence, tipping his head down to start grazing. His tail swished at a fly.

  “It’s happened before,” Bob said with an impish smirk. “Which is why it’s better to pick open trails and spaces. Or to use flashlights. We’re old-style, but not that old-style.”

  “Okay. Gotta say, it seems like a well maintained ranch. It’s actually emptier than I expected. I thought there would be more staff, more day visitors.”

  “We get them. But you know, this is a fairly isolated patch of land. You won’t find much for miles around. There’s a western themed town around three miles off. The ranch is responsible for stocking it. We have a hot stone massage parlor, but people aren’t going to drive for hours for something they can get in the city anyway. So what it does mean, is that the ones who do come are more interested in adventure than others.”

  “Or more interested in the fact it’s owned by a billionaire who seems to be on the bachelor list,” Whitney said absently. She inwardly started kicking herself at the slip of tongue. I’m not usually this flippant!

  Bob sighed. “That, too. You could say that’s an even better reason to live in the middle of nowhere if he plans to remain a bachelor.”

  Whitney couldn’t help herself – she burst out into laughter. “Awh, jeepers, that’s true. I mean if I wanted to avoid people I’d probably live somewhere like here as well. Opening it to the public though opens risk to that. It draws unwanted attention.”

  “No one should be denied the chance for beauty,” Bob said softly. “And this kind of landscape – this lifestyle – I think it’s astounding. I uh, think it’s great that people from all over the world get a chance to experience something like this at least once in their lives. You know, we have exchange students who work here in the summer or for their internships. People from Europe in particular. Some come here for extended working holidays over the course of a year or more.”

  Whitney nodded, impressed. She imagined being younger, scouring through pictures of nature, pointing at cities in Europe and getting excited at the idea of visiting them. Experiencing something refreshing and new.

  Recalling that fluttering, youthful notion of bright horizons sent a quiet melancholy inside her, one she couldn’t explain. “It’s a great idea. People who wanna see the world and dip into different ways of life – keeping something like this available to them is the best gift for many to have. Twelve or more years ago, I woulda killed to be an exchange student for something like this.”

  “Twelve years ago? Why not now?” Bob brushed at his chin. “I’m genuinely curious.”

  “Life got in the way. Duty.” Whitney gave a defeated shrug. “Guess those dreams slipped away. ‘Bout the time I stopped believing magic was real.”

  “There’s a quote I know about magic for that.”

  “There’s a quote for everything,” Whitney shot back, smiling.

  “Yes – it was by a famous children’s author in England. ‘Those who don’t believe in magic, will never find it.’ I find it to be true. It’s like – you have a dream. If you lose it, you forget sometimes you can dream at all.”

  “Hmm.” Whitney didn’t know what to say. Her automatic reaction would be to snap a response, something to contradict it. Except, for some reason, his words made a strange, tingling sense in some deep, lightless part of her. “You’re a strange one, Bob. But I like you. Can… see what you mean with that as well. Don’t really give myself over to dreams nowadays. Who was this author?”

  “Roald Dahl. If you want, I can lend you some books for later. They’re a bit worn, but I had them since I was a kid. Would be nice to let someone else glance at them too.”

  “Sure. I’d like that.”

  “Awesome. Shake on it.”

  Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Whitney shook hands again with Bob. She glanced sideways, to see Faith ogling through her camera at Graham Cracker. “You can come closer if you want, Faith.”

  The woman jumped, almost dropping her camera, then froze like a rabbit caught in headlights. “Oh, um! I wasn’t trying to spy on you. I promise!”

  “Come over here, kid!” Bob waved at her, until she breached the gap between them. “You want a good picture of Graham Cracker, right?”

  Faith nodded, not daring to speak.

  “Well. I’ll budge him a little way off, you sit or bala
nce your camera on the fence, and you can get a few good shots of him. How ‘bout it?”

  A smile shyly crept onto Faith’s lips. “Yeah. Okay. So…?”

  “One moment.” Bob gave a scraping bow to Whitney. “If you excuse me, my lady…”

  Whitney solemnly patted him on the shoulder. “Do what you must, noble ranch hand. Do it for the picture.”

  Bob planted an expression of fake suffering on his face and squeezed through the fence, and with some coaxing and manual steering, got the massive horse to take some tiny, reluctant steps away. Faith balanced her camera as he held Graham Cracker still, taking different shots at different angles. “Can Whitney join the shoot?” Faith pulled herself away from the lens view. “She’s wearing company clothing. It’s part of my assignment.”

  “Sure. He likes her. Come on, Whitney! Get your ass through the fence, come on, girl.”

  “Don’t call me over like I’m a hoss!” Whitney flared indignantly. “Gonna regret this…” She awkwardly clambered over the fence, taking much longer than Bob. When across, she walked up to Graham Cracker and Bob. Much to Faith and Bob’s entertainment, Graham Cracker targeted Whitney’s hair again, burring in pleasure when she scratched him all along his neck. The horse had the strength and bulk to send Whitney flying like a rag-doll, but he acted extra gentle and careful with his motions – as if acutely aware of his own power.

  Faith snapped a lot of pictures, laughing at the more compromising images. Whitney laughed as well with Bob, once overcoming her nervousness, with true, uncontrollable belly laughter. She almost regretted having to head back to her lodge some time later, to prepare for the induction. Bob, Faith and Whitney all needed to attend it.

  It sounded odd, and a little sad to her, that a couple of hours with a horse and two eccentric humans was more fun than anything she had experienced in months, with the drudgery and grind of her home city, and detachment of her home life.

  At the same time, it lit in her a hope that this trip might end up as magical as the environment it dwelled in. Maybe it really did link with the country air and the shape of a different part of the world.

  Maybe without the stress of city fumes, hectic lifestyles and the roar of traffic, there could be peace. And maybe, if Whitney cherished that peace, she could transfer it to others, like her mother and father. The notion felt silly and illogical, but it gave her something else to smile about as she headed to her cabin with Faith. Bob had patted her on the shoulder, promising to see her later and help out if she found herself struggling with ranch activities.

  Might take up that offer. Especially if Natalie rubs it in how amazing she is. She had waved him goodbye, and then Faith. Inside, Whitney peered through her window to see Faith almost skipping into her cabin.

  Yes, Whitney thought. This can be a blessing.

  Chapter 4

  Gathering in reception, Whitney’s group saw most of the staff on site for the first time. Men and women, a mix of full time ranch hands and exchange students, introduced themselves one by one. After, they got conspicuously herded out of reception to a part of the ranch not yet explored. There were eight instructors in total, including Jack Brook. The revealed area showed assault course obstacles, which sent a rippling groan through Gracie and Tia simultaneously. Natalie looked pumped up, no doubt fueled by the chance to show off her flexibility that she probably gained from yoga or cheerleading or whatever she did.

  Whitney didn’t catch Bob Stevenson in the selection. Disappointment surged through her. Perhaps some other duty stole him away from the conference. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Natalie, having drilled Faith and Whitney for information, was curious to know who Bob was and what he looked like – though she soon lost interest once she heard about his unkempt clothes and overgrown face hair. Faith stood in a shrinking way on the left of Whitney. Natalie had placed herself with Alex and Sandra in front of their small group. Tia and Gracie loitered a short distance behind Whitney.

  Jack Brook made his entrance, and bowed when Sandra, Tia and Gracie cheered, even going as far as to clap their hands in applause.

  Whitney narrowed her eyes in sudden, deep suspicion.

  Jack Brook took a moment to survey his audience. Dressed in a simple cream tunic, tight blue jeans with spur-tacked boots, he waved. Seeing him in the flesh provoked interesting reactions from the others. Natalie actively started fanning herself, gushing loudly to Sandra, “He’s so hot!” Whilst Sandra nodded vigorously, audibly suppressing a girlish urge, quite unlike the mature demeanor she preferred to emit, to squeal.

  Everyone’s turned to jello around me. Good Lord.

  Alex glanced at them disdainfully, holding her tongue.

  Noticing their reactions, Jack held up his palms defensively. “Now, now, ladies. It’s just me talking, no need to get yourselves too excited – or you won’t have enough energy for the assault course.”

  Some of the staff chuckled.

  Whitney folded her arms, tightening her lips and raising one eyebrow. Jack Brook saw her expression and winked, before doing the same to Faith.

  Natalie and Sandra thought the wink was for them, and they both jittered in delight.

  “That sly bastard…” Whitney muttered. “Oh I could kick his cootie riddled ass!” Faith shook with silent mirth.

  “Looks like ‘Bob’ shaved,” she whispered to Whitney.

  Whitney rubbed her nose, exclaiming to Faith, “I knew it was a disguise! I knew it! It was literally the first thing I said! Ugh! It was so goddamn obvious and bad. And I accepted it like an idiot!”

  “Don’t pop a vein thinking about it.” Faith casually raised the digital camera looped around her neck, snapping opportunistic pictures. Alex, overhearing them, appeared interested – far more interested than in the sight of the billionaire talking to them.

  “There’s a lot of planned activities to make this stay an enjoyable one, and we have the most excellent staff here to help, guide, and participate with you. I won’t be joining you on the course, mostly because I don’t want to humiliate myself by being outperformed by everyone –” he waited for the chuckling to subside, “— but I will be assisting on it and joining you for dinner tonight. I’ll also be starting with horse-riding lessons tomorrow. Depending on how well we progress, will depend on whether we’ll be trekking with horses or hiking until blisters form on our feet. We might even encounter a bear! Exciting, yes?”

  “Really exciting,” Alex said in a monotonous drawl. Whitney caught her side profile, and all the nuance that went with it. “I can’t wait to be eaten by a bear.”

  Natalie shot a filthy look at Alex, who maintained her bored, oblivious expression. Whitney subtly moved Alex higher up on her mental threat list. She would need to check if that woman started the drinks early, and hope Sandra didn’t feel encouraged to indulge on her creeping habits of alcoholism. Alex was well known for heckling Natalie, who held a higher position in the company.

  Scratch that. That Latina’s well known for heckling everybody.

  Jack and the staff laughed good naturedly, and he replied to her, “Yes, it would be the highlight of the week for sure if the bears invade. But don’t worry, they’re quite solitary and shy. It’s just best to be cautious if in case we encounter a mama bear with her cubs, and she feels their lives are being threatened. I’m not helping, am I? Changing topic – for this exercise, it will be a focus on team building. You’ll be in groups of two with an instructor – one group will have two instructors since you’re seven in total. At some point you will all have the chance to work with each other – since the focus is team cooperation, abilities and problem solving. It’s always a wonderful chance to be able to test each other’s strengths outside in a different environment from when you would normally see each other. It’s a pleasure to watch people discover themselves. I hope you will have fun.”

  He smiled, indicating the seven other instructors – who each wore name-badges pinned to their buttoned tops. Two of them wielded clipboards, and a third on
e rested on a polished wooden table. Jack, having finished his pep-talk, went to scoop the clipboard up – with Sandra and Natalie hot on his heels like dogs in heat, obviously wishing to indulge him in intimate conversation. The instructors and nameless staff members barely blinked an eyelid. The one security guard seemed more preoccupied with eating a chocolate bar. Security for the billionaire was curiously lax – no one apparently expected any issues.

  And why would they? There’s no gain. It’s just us in the wild. Status doesn’t matter, does it?

  Whitney, out of a maternal instinct, chose to attach herself to Faith as her second partner – partly because the woman seemed to be that tiny bit more confident around her, and partly because Whitney knew how it felt to be last-picked on a team. Although in her case, it linked directly to her general ineptitude with sports. They spotted Gracie glowering at the obstacle selection. Gracie didn’t exercise much. She would likely either petition to sit out the game or put no effort whatsoever into it, though Tia already appeared to be trying to bolster Gracie’s confidence and competitive drive. Alex hung off to the side, isolated and rejected by the rest. Two instructors targeted her, Anja Jenssen and Lamar Manning displaying on their nametags. Both resembled confident ranch veterans – perhaps used to helping the stragglers of group retreat expeditions. Alex accepted them with dubious grace as Anja launched into discussion.

  “Wonder who we get assigned to us,” Whitney said. Faith fidgeted with her leather bracelet, squinting at the other instructors. People moved, shifting like sea currents, grouping into their favored social circles.

  A tall, green-eyed and blonde-haired man, who could have been eighteen or twenty-eight, strolled up to them. Miles Aaldenberg, Whitney read. He spoke with an indeterminable accent. “You are partners, yes?”

  “Yes,” Whitney confirmed. “We are. You our instructor?”

  “Ja. We shall be a winning team, I can tell.” The fish-belly white man delivered an elaborate bow, grinning in the manner of someone who knew they could get away with anything.