“I should just let them kill my stock, kill my livelihood?”
“Listen, I’ll come back and help you round them up,” I said. “We can at least move them closer to the house.”
Daniel just shook his head.
“Well, think about it. I’m glad to come back and help. All you have to do is call.” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.”
We slid down the bank and made our way across the creek to the Bronco. “And call Bucky,” I said.
“I’ll call him,” Daniel said.
The largest presence on Christmas morning was Emily’s absence. The three of us didn’t celebrate the day, but Gus insisted on cooking a big meal, big insofar as he would be preparing real meat, moose steaks from the freezer, a gift from the Gunthers in the fall. That morning, Morgan and I lay in the warm bed silently watching the sky just beginning to turn light.
“I miss her,” she said.
“Me, too.”
There wasn’t much else to say. If Morgan were going to cry, she would cry. I’d hold her until she stopped crying. But she didn’t cry.
“Mother always gave the horses carrots on Christmas,” she said. “Can we do that this morning?”
“Of course.”
We pulled on our clothes and went down to the kitchen. We found a bag of carrots in the refrigerator. I had a thought that Gus wanted the carrots for the dinner and when I looked at Morgan I knew she was thinking the same thing. I shrugged and closed the door.
“Are you sure?” Morgan whispered.
“I won’t say anything if you don’t,” I said.
We went outside and began passing out carrots, one animal at a time. The mule was loose and following us, so he got several.
“What’s the mule’s name again?” Morgan asked, watching him walk away from us toward the hay once it was clear we were out of carrots. “His name is Pest now. He’s mine. I don’t like it, but I like him.”
“That thing at Daniel’s scares me,” she said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Do you think we’ve got some crazed militia assholes around here?” she asked. She was studying my eyes.
“I know we do. There might be only one or two or there might be fifty, but they’re out there. I’d be a fool to think there weren’t.”
Morgan pulled my arm to her and hugged me. “John, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. Nothing’s going to happen to any of us. I’m very cautious and, besides, I’ve got old Gus.”
“What will you do if they come around here?” she asked. “What are we supposed to do?”
That was a really good question and I didn’t want to let on that I had absolutely no idea.
“I mean the sheriff is an hour away.”
“Sweetie, things happen in a second. It doesn’t matter whether Bucky is a minute away. This is my home.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ve lived here for twenty years. It’s been good so far. No Son of Sam, no LAPD, and, until now, no neo-Nazis. Everything will be fine.” I put my arm around her and pulled her close. “Let’s go in and have some coffee and a little something to gnaw on.”
Morgan and I sat at the table with our coffee and toast. Gus was at the refrigerator and he was pulling out things, surveying the stores. “I was sure I had a bag of carrots,” he said. “Did you move my carrots?”
When neither of us spoke, he let the door swing shut. “I asked if anyone moved my carrots.”
“Morgan, the man asked you a question,” I said.
“John ate them,” she said.
“I don’t believe you,” he said, flatly.
“We fed them to the horses,” she said.
“That, I believe.” He glared at us for a second. “How am I supposed to make glazed carrots without carrots?”
“We’re sorry,” I said.
“Well, you got that right.”
“My mother always gave the horses carrots on Christmas.”
Gus softened. “And a fine tradition it is.”
The phone rang. Gus answered it. “He’s right here,” he said.
Morgan looked worried.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. I took the phone from Gus. “Hello.”
“Hi, John, it’s me, David.”
I was thrown. It took me a second to realize it was Howard’s David. “David, how are you? Happy holiday.”
“Merry Christmas,” he said. He sounded subdued.
“So, how are things?”
“Okay,” he said. “Well, not so hot.”
“I’m sorry. Problems with your folks?”
“No, nothing like that. John, would you mind if I came out there and worked at your place next semester? I’m going to take some time off.”
I was really caught off guard now. “Hold on for a second,” I said. I slapped my hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s David,” I said to Gus and Morgan. “He wants to come here for the semester.”
Gus made a face.
“Is he okay?” Morgan asked.
I put the phone back to my ear. “David, are you all right?”
“Robert and I broke up,” he said.
“You broke up?” I repeated for the benefit of Morgan and Gus.
“He cheated on me. He slept with one of our friends.”
“That’s awful.” I could hear his pain. “It’s cold as hell out here, but you’re welcome to come out. I do need to build a shed and put up some fencing.”
“I’ll work hard.”
“I know you will, son,” I said.
“I thought I’d fly into Denver and take the bus up to Highland on the 28th. I don’t have it all figured out.”
“Of December?”
“Is that too early? It’s just that I really want to get out of here.”
“No, that’s fine. Just call and tell me when to meet you,” I said. He agreed to that and I hung up. “Is that okay?” I asked Morgan.
“What happened?” she asked.
“That Robert-boyfriend-guy slept with someone else, one of their friends. He sounded awful. Love trouble.”
“Of course it’s all right if he comes here,” she said.
“He can’t talk to his father?” Gus said.
“I think it’s great that he thought he could call you,” Morgan said. “He needs to be able to talk to somebody.”
“I suppose.” I sat at the table, slouched, and stared up at the ceiling. “I guess this is okay. Sure, it will be fine. I should give Howard a call, though, let him know where his kid is going to be. That sound right?”
“Yes,” Morgan said.
The first thing Howard said when he was apprised of the situation was, “Why did he call you and not me?”
“You two have had your problems,” I said.
“But I’m his father.”
“That’s true and maybe that’s what makes it so hard. I don’t know. I just thought I’d let you know he’s going to be here.”
“What exactly happened?”
“I don’t know,” I lied. “He said he needed to take some time off from school and said he wanted to work here on the ranch for a while.”
“He didn’t say why?”
I couldn’t bring myself to lie again or didn’t believe I would do it effectively, so I said, “He’s arriving later this week.”
“You think I’ve pushed him away by disapproving of his lifestyle?” he said.
I didn’t lie this time. “That’s probably true.”
Howard was silent for a few seconds. “Thanks for calling to let me know. You’re a good friend, John.”
“Sure thing.”
Dinner was wonderful, even without the glazed carrots. The moose steaks were sweet and tender, Gus’s dressing was moist and peppery, and the sweet potatoes were covered with little melted marshmallows. Then there were the Brussels sprouts. Gus made up small plates of moose meat for Zoe and the puppy. The dog
s finished their treat in a matter of seconds and looked up for more.
“If the horses can have their Christmas meal, then so can the dogs,” he said. Then he sat down and lowered his head.
Morgan glanced to me. It looked like Gus was praying before his meal, but he never did that.
“Gus?” I asked.
He raised his head and looked at us.
“Are you all right?” Morgan asked.
“A little dizzy, queasy all of a sudden,” he said.
“Have some water.” I handed him his water glass.
“Maybe it’s the wine I drank earlier,” he said. “I shouldn’t have had any, but I sneaked a sip.”
“Still dizzy?”
“A little.”
“That’s it, we’re going to the hospital,” I said, pulling my napkin from my lap and putting it on the table.
“No, it’s going away,” he said.
I looked across the table at Morgan. She was terrified.
“Gus,” I started.
But he cut me off. “I’m going to stretch out on the sofa. If I don’t feel better in a few minutes, then you can take me in.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
I helped him up and he walked fairly steadily into the den and to the sofa. I stood there staring down at him, feeling useless.
“You go finish dinner,” he said. “I didn’t toil over that damn stove all day so no one would enjoy it.”
“I’ll come back in a few minutes.”
In the kitchen, Morgan was pacing. I knew that she was reliving that last day with her mother. “We have to take him in,” she said.
“Let’s give him the couple of minutes he asked for,” I said. I wasn’t certain it was the wisest course, but I didn’t want to upset him. “Just a couple minutes.”
We sat down, but we didn’t eat.
Gus came into the room. “I said for you two to eat.” He walked, fairly steadily on his own, to the sink where he poured himself a glass of water. “I’m an old man. These spells happen. I feel better now.”
“You’re sure?” Morgan said.
Gus nodded. “You eat. I’m going to go upstairs and rest.”
“Need help?” I asked.
“Eat!”
“Okay, but tomorrow, we’re going to see the doctor,” I said.
“All right.”
All Gus told me after his visit to the doctor was that there had to be an adjustment in his blood-pressure medication and that he’d have to go down to Laramie for tests in a couple weeks. He’d also been prescribed a few other things, but as usual his dealings with his physician were kept close to him. While we waited at the pharmacy for the drugs, the sheriff walked in.
“Bucky,” I said. I didn’t rise from the green vinyl seat.
“Hey, John. Merry Christmas. How you doing, Gus?”
Gus nodded. The old man had always been cool when it came to the sheriff. I thought at times that it was simply the badge, at others that there was in fact something about Bucky that put him off.
“Did Daniel White Buffalo give you a call?” I asked.
“He did. And I drove out there and I saw it and I don’t know what the hell to do. That’s the skinny.”
“What do you think?”
“What is there to think? I hope they’re passing through. I hope lightning strikes them.” He looked over at the sound of the bell on the door. “All I know is this is going to be my last term.”
“Daniel’s pretty upset,” I said.
“I don’t blame him,” Bucky said. “What about you?”
“What about me?’
“Are you upset?”
“Yeah, I’m upset,” I said. “Don’t you think I should be upset?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
The pharmacist came over, and Gus got up to talk to him.
“How’s Morgan?” Bucky asked.
“She’s okay,” I said. “She’s at her place trying to close it up. We moved her animals to my place a couple weeks ago. I have to tell you, this stuff scares her.”
Bucky nodded. “I’ll have Hanks swing by your place periodically. I’ve got someone doing the same thing at White Buffalo’s.”
“That’s good,” I said.
As we walked back to the truck, I asked Gus why he didn’t like Bucky.
“He gives me the willies,” he said. “Can’t say why. It’s in my gut. I don’t like him.”
“Fair enough.”
Once in the truck and rolling out of town, I asked, “Won’t you tell me what the doctor told you?”
“Same stuff.”
“That might mean something to me if I heard the first stuff,” I said. “What kind of tests are you going to have?”
“The usual crap. A tube here, a tube there. He wants to check out my colon again. He seems to like that.”
“But they did that at the hospital here last time,” I said.
“I think it’s a scheduling thing, I don’t know.”
I didn’t press. Gus was going to the doctor, taking care of things. My knowing wasn’t going to change what he would or wouldn’t do. It was his business and I would let him see to it.
“Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here,” I said.
“I know, John.”
NINE
THE BIG SILVER GREYHOUND from Laramie was on time in spite of the foul weather, mainly because the trip did not involve the interstate freeway. When the highway was being planned in the sixties, the ranchers told the highway folks that the chosen route was a bad one. The ranchers suggested the old road. The completed freeway came to be called the Snow Chi Minh Trail and was closed quite a bit during the winter. The old road became the alternate and always-open route. Twenty minutes after greeting David, I was saying good-bye to Gus as he boarded another bus for Casper. The old man would arrive that evening, check into the Motel 6 next door to the hospital, not eat or drink anything after six, and be ready for his exams the next morning. Gus had refused my driving him, saying one, “I ain’t no baby and I can take care of myself,” and two, “Besides, you’ve got a guest coming into town.” So, David and I waved good-bye to the bus. Gus didn’t really notice and seemed older to me.
David and I wandered down the street toward the restaurant where we had first met. The snow was dirty and a bit more charming because of it. We walked in and were seated at the same table by the same young woman, who took the same interest in David.
“You came back for the good weather, I see,” she said.
“I guess so,” David said.
“How are you, today?” I asked her.
“I’m fine. As long as I’m inside, I’m fine. What would you two gentlemen like to drink?”
“Coffee,” David said.
“Tea for me,” I said. “Earl Grey and some milk with that?”
“Coming up,” she said and walked away.
“How are you, my friend?” I asked.
David shrugged.
“Relationships,” I sighed. “They’re always difficult. Things don’t always go the way we plan. Blah, blah, blah, and all the other inane platitudes that you’ve already heard fifty times.”
David laughed.
“What I meant to say was, doesn’t life suck?”
He laughed again, fell quiet for a few seconds. Then, “I really trusted Robert. I think I’m one of the those people who’s too quick to fall in love.”
I nodded. “Could be. Personally, I thought Robert was an asshole.”
“Really?”
“Big-time,” I said. “And I’m not just saying that because it’s true.”
“He was a little older, sure of himself, cute. I just missed all the signals.” He looked out the window.
“Signals?” I asked.
“They seem obvious now. Going out and not telling me where he was, late-night phone calls, the phone would ring and if I answered no one was there. His own narcissism should have tipped me off.”
“Hindsight,” I said.
“I
should never have moved in with him,” David said.
“It’s never a good idea to rush things,” I said.
The waitress delivered our coffee and tea, smiled admiringly at David, took our food orders, and left again.
“Have you talked to your parents?”
“I called my mother and we sort of talked, you know what I mean. What’s there to say?”
“Listen, I need to tell you that I let your father know you were going to be here,” I said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“I guess not.”
“I should have talked to you first. I’m sorry.”
“No,” David said, “really, it’s all right. What’s it matter anyway? It’s no secret.”
I poured some milk in my tea. “I don’t mean to sound stupid,” I said. “I just kind of do that naturally, but I wanted to ask you something.”
“Yes?”
“When did you realize you were gay?”
“That’s not stupid,” David said, generously.
“My experience is limited and I’m just curious.”
“When I was ten I knew I was different and when I was thirteen I knew I was gay.” David sipped his coffee. “I don’t know how, but I knew it. I kept it to myself until I was out of the house because of the way I’d hear my father talk about fags and queers. He scared me.”
“I can imagine. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories,” I said.
“I know. So, what’s new with you?”
“I’m getting married.”
David didn’t say anything, but he set his mug down.
“You remember Morgan? Well, she’s the victim. She’s living at the ranch now.”
“That’s great,” he said, though I doubted he meant it.
“Kind of living there. We have her ranch as well. We’re going to put it on the market.”
“What does Morgan do?” David asked.
“She has taught some courses at the community college, literature and composition, but not for a while. For several years she was mostly caring for her mother who just died.”
“That’s great. About your getting married, I mean.”
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