by Andrew Grey
“Yeah, it’s over. They wanted to add six additional stops.”
“I saw the stories on the news.” His dad laughed. “Your people did a good job making the tour company look like demanding fools wanting to run you into the ground.” His dad clearly liked that part.
“I thought Ray was a better kind of guy than that. Still, for opening his mouth, Barry will take care of him.” He’d see to that for certain.
“Where are you now?” his dad asked.
“Hi, honey,” his mom said as she came on the line. “How are you? Are you going to be coming home soon? Your father and I miss you.”
“I miss you both too. I’m in Wyoming. The last few days, I’ve been in Cheyenne at a rodeo and had a ball. No one recognized me, and I was even given a hard time by one of the hotel maids.” He smiled about her not wanting to let him in the room when he’d forgotten his key. He’d ended up going down to the front desk to get a new one.
“How did you manage that? What did you do?”
“I shaved and cut my hair,” Robert said, rubbing his head. He still wasn’t used to having so little hair, but it would grow out again soon enough. “I barely recognized myself afterward.”
“So you’re on your own with no one to look after you?” his mother asked as though he were still a teenager. “Do you think that’s smart? What if someone tries to hurt you?”
“I’m just another guy right now. Barry knows where I am and I’ve kept in touch, but I need a chance to write and let the music flow again.” Robert grinned. “Anyway, I have an idea. I’m going to try to get a job for a few weeks. I need a chance to reconnect with people and the land.” He picked up speed as the road ahead of him emptied.
“Are you serious?” his mother asked, clearly shocked.
“Noreen,” his dad gentled. “Son, what’s really going on?”
“Do you remember those first songs I wrote when I was at home? I need to feel that way again, and I can’t in a big house in Nashville or in some hotel room.” Robert gripped the wheel tighter. “Mom, Dad, the music isn’t coming anymore. It’s dried up, and I need to try to get it back. I sat in my room last night and jotted down some things that came to me during the rodeo and while talking to everyone around me. It isn’t a song, but I was comfortable and it was what I needed. It isn’t going to be forever, but I need some time.” He hoped that was all he needed, but Robert really had no idea. “And a change of scenery. Dad taught me how to work on a ranch, so I’m going to do that, I think. At least I’m going to try. If it doesn’t work out… even if it does, I’ll come visit.”
“Then you’re going back to Nashville?” his dad asked.
“No. I’m going to find somewhere else to live. I don’t like it there. I’m going to sell the house and find the right place for me. I listened to Barry before, but from now on, I’m going to take my own advice when it comes to my life.” He wasn’t sure how his parents would react to that.
“That’s wonderful,” his mom told him, her voice sounding thick with tears. “Those people had way too much say in your life. You know your dad and I have only ever wanted you to be happy.” She sniffed softly. “Now if you could only find yourself a nice girl to settle down with.”
Robert stifled a groan. He’d told his mom and dad that he was never going to marry a woman, that he liked men, but his mother tended to live in a world of her own making sometimes.
“Noreen,” his father cautioned again. He was the more accepting of the two. “Robert has a good head on his shoulders. He’ll do what’s right for him.” His dad addressed him again. “Where exactly are you headed?”
“Jackson, Wyoming. I met a guy in Cheyenne, and he reminded me how wonderful it was. I played there some time ago for one of the festivals. They have ranches there, and cattle. If it doesn’t work out, I can check into one of the resorts and be pampered for a while. But what’s calling to me is being outdoors.”
His dad hummed softly, which he tended to do when he was thinking. “I say you have nothing to lose. Go and see what happens. Get what you need to reclaim your soul. You know your mother and I are here for anything, any time you need us.”
Robert swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know.” More than once, Robert had offered to buy his father some land so he could ranch again, since he could well afford it. But his mom and dad were settled now, and ranching was a hard life. They deserved some time to enjoy themselves. “I was thinking that the two of you should travel more.”
“Can we go to Paris?” his mother asked, and Robert nearly ran off the road in shock.
“Are you serious?” Robert asked with a smile. “Why don’t you plan to go in the spring for your fortieth anniversary? Go ahead and make the arrangements and reservations. Either that or I can have Glenn call you to get some information, and he can set it all up for you. He’s great at that sort of thing.”
“You don’t need to do that,” his mother said, but Robert could hear the delight in her voice.
“Here, Dad.” He rattled off Glenn’s number. “Call him, tell him what you want to do and that I said he was to set everything up for you. I’ll give you the trip for your anniversary. Go whenever you want.” It was the very least he could do. “Have fun planning. That can be half the fun of going on a trip. I’ll call soon.” He hung up and settled back in his seat, taking in the majestic scenery as it passed and grew outside his window.
Robert drove most of the day and arrived in Jackson late in the afternoon. As he’d remembered, there were few places on the planet, as far as he was concerned, with a more impressive view from just about every single place in town. The peaks rose on the horizon, slicing the sky. He wasn’t sure how he was going to go about finding some work, but he wasn’t just going to sit around. His songs were about life and love, so he needed to experience things in order for the music to start again.
He parked downtown, then got out to work out the stiffness and find something to eat. A small restaurant caught his attention, and he went inside, stretching his legs as he went.
“May I help you?” the hostess asked in a slightly snooty tone, and Robert looked down, wondering if he was underdressed. Maybe it was later in the day than he thought.
“Table for one?” he asked quietly.
“Of course.” She led him through to a small table near the bar. “This is the only section open right now. I hope that’s okay.” She gave him a smile and left.
Robert sat down and looked over the menu. The bar was more rustic than he’d expected, and looking into the restaurant, he realized what was out of place was the elegantly dressed hostess.
“May I get you something?” asked a server in jeans and a white shirt.
“A Heineken and one of your tuna steaks, please.” Robert set the menu aside. Driving all day had made him really hungry.
“Of course,” he said and hurried away.
Robert closed his eyes and sighed, glad not to be moving for a while.
“Long drive?” a man asked from behind him.
Robert opened his eyes as he turned around. The man looked to be in his early sixties and had more dirt on his boots than Robert did. “Yes. About seven hours or so. Came in from Cheyenne. Saw the rodeo there.” He was grateful when the server brought his beer.
The man stood from the bar and took the seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind, but drinking alone sucks.” He smiled. “I remember when this used to be an old-time cowboy watering hole. Now it’s all gentrified for the tourists.” He set down his glass with a light thunk. “What brings you to town? You a tourist too?” It was clear he didn’t think much of them.
“Sort of, I guess. Name’s Robert Cummings. I was here a few years ago and was reminded about the town by someone I met at the rodeo.” Robert shrugged. He hadn’t been so sure about the guy just sitting down, but he seemed friendly enough. Country folks tended to be like that in his experience. “I thought I’d look things over, maybe see if I could get a job.”
“Samuel
Whitingly.” He extended his hand as he looked him over. “Ranch work?”
Robert nodded. “Grew up on a ranch, but it didn’t last. Tough business, but I’m sure you know that. Dad didn’t change when he needed to. I helped run cattle and worked a lot with the horses.” He sighed softly. The hardest part of losing the ranch had been giving up the horse he’d raised from a colt. He had been considered one of the ranch assets and was sold to pay the debts, just like most everything else.
The server brought him his lunch.
“You into all that newfangled food?” Samuel asked.
Robert checked out his plate. “To me it’s just food.” He smirked before he took the first bite, swallowed, and took another. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until those first bites hit his belly. Then he was famished. “And right good.”
“Do you cook too?” Samuel asked.
“Some.” That was true, though he hadn’t done much cooking in years. In Nashville, if he was going to be home, he had a chef who came in and prepared the meals he needed. That way he had great food and all he needed to do was the final cooking. Easy and tasty. “Not especially good at it, though. My mama is a great cook. Nothing can beat her chicken-fried steak.” Just the thought was enough to get his appetite running on overdrive. “But she doesn’t make it that much anymore… unless I ask for it. She and my dad eat healthy.” He’d also picked up on the habit, especially after being on the road for so long.
“I manage okay at the ranch, nothing fancy.” Samuel sipped his drink. “So what kind of ranch work are you interested in doing?”
Robert shrugged. “I’ve done just about everything there is. You name it. It was a family ranch, and I worked right alongside my dad. What sort of help do you need?” Samuel was a man on a fishing expedition, and Robert figured it was time to see if he could reel in some line.
“Getting old is shit. You know that, kid? I used to be able to do everything that needed doing. Now….” Samuel downed his drink.
“I could say something about getting older and wiser,” Robert quipped.
“And then I’d have to fucking shoot you.” Samuel sat back in his chair while Robert ate his late lunch. “Getting old is just getting old. There’s nothing fucking wise about it.” He turned, and when the server came back, he asked for a cup of coffee. “I can’t even drink like I used to. Hell, I must be getting soft, ’cause I’m telling you all this shit and I don’t even fucking know you from Adam.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to tell things to a stranger than it is to talk to family,” Robert offered and took his last bite, sighing as he felt better and comfortable for the first time in hours.
“Sometimes I have too much to drink and it loosens my tongue.” Samuel sipped the coffee when the server brought the cup.
“How much have you had to drink?” Now Robert was getting worried that Samuel wouldn’t be able to drive.
“One drink, but it was a big one.” His eyes twinkled with mirth and then he started laughing at his own joke. “You got yourself a place to stay?”
Robert shrugged. That wasn’t something he was worried about, but he wasn’t going to let on to Samuel.
“’Cause, fancy food aside, you look like you ain’t got shit. At least for this town.” Samuel glanced around. “Jackson used to be interesting, you know. Cowboys, cattle, and lots of scenery. Now it’s all spit-shined, countrified crap for the rich folks who have huge houses and ranches nearby. They shoot movies out here now.” Samuel motioned and told the server to bring the check.
“Of course, Mr. Whitingly,” he said and handed him one of those little restaurant wallets.
Samuel stuffed some cash inside. “I got a small place on my property you can stay in if you want, and tomorrow we’ll see what you can do. I got fences that need fixing….” He swore under his breath. “Used to be that this entire valley was wide open, not a fence nowhere. Ranchers worked together to raise their herds and stave off wolves and stuff like that. Now we got fences… lots of them. Not sure if it’s to keep the cattle in or the fancy rich folks out.”
Now it was Robert’s turn to chuckle. “Can you imagine if one of them got lost out there?” He turned toward the incredible view of the impressive peaks that seemed to dominate everything in this town.
“Hell, they’d just call one of them Ubers or some such shit. They might get a Horse-ber.”
“Maybe a Moo-ber,” Robert offered, and Samuel snorted softly.
“That’s good, kid. I like a guy with a sense of humor. Makes the shit-work lighter.” Samuel handed the payment to the server. “Now don’t go saying anything about the check. I got it.”
“Thank you.” It wasn’t necessary, but sometimes it was best to just say thanks and keep his mouth shut otherwise. “Are you sure about this? You barely know me, and….” Robert bit his tongue. He’d told his folks he was going to get a job, and one was being offered, right here. Samuel seemed like a decent guy, and Robert had plenty of options if things didn’t work out.
“I know enough.” Samuel looked down at the table. “You ordered a beer, drank half of it, and emptied your water. So there ain’t no drinking problem. That’s a damn sight better than the last kid I hired.” He rolled his eyes. “You got muscles and yer strong enough. Your hands aren’t smooth like someone who ain’t done a lick of work in his life. You say you understand ranch work, and I’ll know the truth about that fast enough, which will tell me if you’re a liar and a storyteller.” He stepped back. “You’re kind of pale, but time in the sun will fix that.” Samuel stuck out his hand. “We got a deal?”
“I can help you with quite a bit.” Robert stood and shook Samuel’s hand.
“Then come on.” He left the table and led the way to the exit. “You know, ranchers used to hire men out in front of the saloon in the morning. The first ones hiring would pick the guys who weren’t hungover. The stupid ones hired while they were in the saloon.” Samuel looked Robert over as he reached for the door. “You better work hard, kid, and don’t make me look stupid.” Samuel stepped out into the radiant sunshine, and Robert followed.
Robert would do his very best.
His truck was parked just down from Samuel’s black one, and he climbed in and followed Samuel through the streets of the rather bucolic town and out toward the north.
Businesses and homes fell away and nature took over, leaving civilization in his rearview mirror. Robert couldn’t help watching the scenery and nearly missed the turn when Samuel took it. He followed Samuel into the drive and up to a low, rustic, single-story home, close to the land, like everything seemed to be out here.
“This is perfect,” he said quietly to himself as his brain hummed and the first few notes of one of his old songs began to play in his head. This was truly what he needed.
The house itself was in good shape, but the corrals and other buildings needed work. They weren’t falling down, but repairs and chores had definitely been left until tomorrow one too many times. Robert got out, and Samuel led him around the house away from the barn to what was almost a cabin.
“It’s got two rooms and a small kitchen. You can mostly eat in the big house if you want as long as you’re willing to help with the cooking.”
“I can do that.” It had been too long since he’d been part of a family. He liked to think that when they were on tour, all the guys in his band and the people he traveled with were like a family, but that was an illusion. They weren’t… not really. Often Robert spent more time alone in his trailer resting and just trying to keep his voice as fresh as possible. Also, he had so much to do. It was up to him to provide the material that kept the entire enterprise functioning.
“Great. I’ll leave you to get settled, then. Dinner will be at seven.” Samuel turned and headed for the main house.
Robert hauled his things inside. The cabin was only marginally bigger than his tour bus. The living room had a small sofa, a chair, and an old television, which worked. The kitchen was L-shaped around a small table. Th
ere was a bedroom and bath, and that was the entire place, but damned if it wasn’t homey and perfect. The walls were polished logs, and the vaulted ceilings were covered in planks. There was even a fireplace against the outer living room wall. It was a study in efficiency, and Robert felt immediately at home.
It took him all of twenty minutes to haul everything inside and put it away, so he wandered out toward the barn and pushed open the door. Immediately the scent of hay, straw, horses, and the inevitable manure hit his nose, bringing back memories he’d thought long forgotten.
Three heads peered out of stalls, big eyes watching and curious.
“Hey, guys,” he said softly, not wanting to startle any of them. Slowly, Robert walked to the first stall, peering inside. The trough had very little water, so he looked around until he found the tack room and the water buckets inside. He located the tap and filled them, adding some to all their troughs. He also found hay and filled mangers.
“You were getting a little worried you’d been forgotten, weren’t you?” he said outside the last stall, and a large chestnut head peered out, nose bumping Robert’s chest. “Sorry, I don’t have any treats for you.” He rubbed the horse’s nose, and the others stuck their heads out, clearly looking for some attention of their own.
“You need to watch out. He bites,” Samuel said as he came inside. Robert continued stroking the horse’s nose, and Samuel stood still, shaking his head. “I’ll be damned.”
“What?” Robert asked softly.
“I got that horse three months ago. One of them rescue organizations called and asked if I’d take him. They had found him nearly dead from starvation, so I took him. But other than for feed and water, he bites anyone who tries to get close.” Samuel kept his distance.
“Do you give him treats? He was looking for them,” Robert said as he slowly stepped away.
“They all get them. I have a tin plate that I use to give him his because I don’t want him to take my hand off.” Samuel opened a bin, pulled out carrots, and passed them over.
“What’s his name?” Robert asked, accepting a carrot.
