by K. A. Gandy
I decide to change the subject, “Hey guys, where are Charlotte and Margaret? Are they okay?” Then I look at Beth-Ann, “Also, are you married now?”
She chuckles, “Well, it looks I’m a blushing virgin for another day. Due to the attack last night, our wedding was postponed to tomorrow afternoon. And, yeah, Margaret and Charlotte are fine. Margaret’s upstairs. Charlotte and her fellas were put on a high-speed train this morning heading to York.”
“Oh, no. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” I’m genuinely upset by that, as I know she wasn’t looking forward to going for whatever procedure they needed to do on her.
“They didn’t waste any time loading them up this morning, that’s for sure,” Elena agrees. “Don’t worry, though, we all gave her extra hugs from you two.”
She’s such a sweetheart. And moments like these it hits me how young she is. I don’t have long to brood on it before a message lights up the TV screen hanging on the wall.
Please meet in the main assembly hall for instructions on the next phase of the matching process at your earliest convenience.
Oh joy. “Somebody should go grab Margaret,” I say, voice flat.
✽✽✽
“Welcome back, ladies!” Eric booms from the front of the room, “I hope you’re all well-rested after last evening’s kerfuffle!” He looks around with his signature toothpaste-ad grin, but we’re all subdued this morning. “Ah, yes. It is regrettable that your first meeting with your matches was interrupted, but it’s time to forget all that, and move on to the next phase. The dating phase!” He pauses, as if to wait for applause, but none is forthcoming. “This is the most fun you will have until your honeymoons begin, and for most of you it’s a pretty simple process. You and your match will have the opportunity to schedule a nearly endless variety of dates over the coming weeks, designed specifically to help you get to know one another, and grow closer as a soon-to-be married couple.” He gives us a self-assured smile.
For those of you with more than one match, you will have to choose which match or matches you’d like to involve in each activity, but it’s recommended that you not go more than seventy-two hours without seeing a match, unless you’re ready to let him go back into the pool. When you are ready to release someone, you can do it from your mini-tablet, right in the Bachelor Book app—which, by the way, has been updated to show each of you only your perfect matches, and give you additional details about their lives and histories.”
“Due to the issues last night, the program director has also decided to bring in a slightly heavier guard presence than you ladies have seen up until now. Remember, they are only here for your protection. You have nothing to fear as long as you’re within the New Life Center’s grounds. Now, does anyone have any questions? No? Fantastic.” He wanders off, without waiting for any of us to respond this time.
I reach into my jeans pocket, and pull out the mini-tablet. Yep, there’s a notification on the Bachelor Book. I tap it and, sure enough, my seven matches are listed, but there’s nowhere near as much information about them as Glitch’s version showed me. No ranking, no match or fertility percentages, just basic bio data. Why are they not showing us information that could help us make an informed decision? I mean, if a guy is half as fertile as the another, the woman deserves to know that, especially if it’s the difference between being forcibly divorced and moved multiple times, like Faith has been, or getting it right on the first try.
I close it, and see that a new app has popped up on the home screen, which will allow me to schedule “dates” with the various men. I shove it back into my pocket and look around, and see that everyone else is still looking at theirs.
Elena squeals with excitement, “Ooh! Look, Leigh, we can do double dates! What do you want to do first?”
Leigh looks slightly less enthused, “Well, I should probably pick two so I can go for one with each man. Uhm . . . do you mind going on both with me? So you can tell me who you like better?”
“Of course, girl! How about . . . bowling? Who do you want to bowl with? And let’s make a dinner reservation for the other one. Hopefully we actually get to eat the dinner this time.” She rolls her eyes dramatically.
Beth-Ann takes me in, standing with my hands in my back pockets instead of jumping into the dating frenzy with everyone else. “You have seven guys to pick from, and you don’t look excited to schedule a date with any of them. What’s up with that?”
I sigh. “I know I need to bite the bullet and just do it, but, it’s overwhelming. I mean, there are seven of them and only one of me. Plus, most of them aren’t from here. That means I could be dragging someone away from their home, or they’re going to drag me away from mine.”
“Hey, don’t worry about that yet. Just schedule an outing with each of them, spend a little time getting to know them individually, and then send home anyone you still have no sparks with,” she suggests.
“What if I don’t have sparks with any of them?” I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m just worried. I’ve had a case or two of childhood butterflies, but that’s it. None of the boys back home ever made me think about settling down, or heck, even sneaking off to go make out somewhere. Of course, most of them weren’t brave enough to get past the brother barrage to even try.
I pull the tablet back out. Okay, planning dates. Here goes nothing. I open the scheduling app, and see that there is a list of suggested activities on the first page. Top of the list, horseback riding. I perk up a little; they’ve clearly taken my preferences into account, which is helpful. I see that they’ve even recommended two men for the activity: Asher the veterinarian, and Grant the rancher. Makes sense, they both love animals. Today seems like the perfect day to go meet the horses in daylight, so I accept those date suggestions.
It dings, telling me my first date is in half an hour, and the next one an hour after that.
“Okay, Beth-Ann, I’m going to ride horses with a couple of bachelors. Wish me luck!” I say, feeling happy at least about getting to ride a horse, even if it’s not Morgan.
✽✽✽
I arrive at the big white barn with ten minutes to spare, so I decide to wander the aisle and introduce myself to the horses. I walk in the big main doors and am immediately surrounded by the smell of hay and warmth. God, there’s nothing as good as that clean hay and horse scent. Somebody should make that into a candle, they’d make a fortune. As I come up to the first stall, I cluck softly, and a warm brown nose appears over the half-door.
“Hey, buddy, nice to meet you. I’m Sadie. What’s your name?” I look around for a name plate, and spot it to the right. Doc. That’s cute. He whuffles my fingers softly. “Hey, Doc, you’re a real sweetie. Maybe we’ll go for a ride soon, okay?” I give his nose a gentle rub before moving on to the next horse. I make my way past Bullet, Daisy, and Champ before I spot a treat dispenser at the end of the aisle. I quickly stuff my pockets, and continue making my rounds. Hercules, Maggie, and Angel are all big fans of the little biscuits. I walk up to the last stall, and see a pretty Palomino stick his head over.
“Hey bud, what’s your name?” I’m in much better spirits already, and I haven’t even touched a saddle. I spot his name, and can’t help but laugh. “Twinkie? Well you must be a real character to get a name like Twinkie. Although, I guess the coloring fits, huh?” I palm a biscuit and offer it to him, and he snatches it greedily. This guy actually closes his eyes for a second as he chews. “You’re a real food lover, I see. I can’t say I blame you—I never turn down good grub myself.” I give him a little scratch under his forelock, and his head bobs low with appreciation.
I hear a set of boots approaching, but I just keep scratching Twinkie in his favorite spot until someone speaks, “Excuse me, are you Miss Sadie?” I turn and see a young uniformed man, who looks to be in his late teens or early twenties.
“You can just call me Sadie. Are you a groom here?” I ask with a smile.
He nods, “Yes, I am. I’m Michael. Can I saddle him up for
you? Or, actually, we usually recommend Angel for the ladies until you get more comfortable. Did you see Angel? She’s the nice white mare over there.” He points across the aisle.
“I did see Miss Angel, and she is very sweet. But I think I’d like to take out Hercules today, if that’s all right.” I’d instantly fallen in love with the big dapple gray. He seemed feisty, and we clicked right off the bat.
Michael looks unsure, “Uhm, well, technically there’s no rule against it, but I’ll have to clear you in the round pen before I can let you take him out alone. Unless you want me to come on your date? Because he’s a more advanced mount. We used to be able to let you pick whoever, but we had a few of the bachelors fall last year, and now we have to clear you before you can take anybody but Angel, Doc, or Champ.”
“That’s no problem Michael, you can clear me in the round pen if you need to. If you’ll point me to his saddle I’ll get him tacked up in a jiffy.” I say politely.
“Oh, I can saddle him for you, miss. It’s no trouble at all; that’s my job.” He starts walking towards the tack room, and I follow.
“I’m sure you can, but I like to saddle my own horse. I feel like it builds the connection, you know? I like to give a horse my attention before I demand something from him.It’s a two-way relationship.” We walk into the tack room, and he goes for an English setup. “Uh, Michael, if it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer a western saddle. Is there one that fits Hercules?”
“Sure, each horse has a few sets of tack.” He turns and grabs the saddle above, and I reach over and pick up the bridle from the hook next to it. “So, I take it you already know how to ride,” he says with a wry expression.
“Yep. My family runs cattle down in Jackson Flats. I’ve been riding my whole life.” It’s nice talking to someone who doesn’t have any agenda, just shooting the breeze. It feels like it’s been an eternity, even though I’ve only been here a week.
“That’s cool. I learned from working here. But, uh, I still have to watch you saddle up and check everything the first few times. Sorry, it’s policy.” He looks sheepish.
“I understand, we have to keep these guys safe.”
Back at Hercules’s stall, he sets the saddle down on a stand. “I’ll be right back with a brush kit. They were all groomed this morning, but Herc’s a roller.”
I see what he means; there’s straw stuck to his back and mane. He hurries back with a tub of brushes, and we each go to work on a side. Hercules seems to enjoy the attention, and props his back hoof. We’ve got him shined up after a minute, and I grab the pad and saddle.
“Are you sure you don’t need help? That saddle’s pretty heavy, and I really don’t mind,” Michael offers again.
“Nope, just stand back—I don’t want to clip you with a stirrup.” I quickly arrange the girth strap and stirrup, then give it a swing and gently settle the whole setup on Hercules’s back. He snaps his ears forward, clearly interested in what comes next. I scratch his shoulder, then under his ribs as I reach for the girth. He stamps a hoof once it’s tightened, as if to say, “Let’s go already!” Michael hands me the bridle, and I flip the reins over the horse’s head, which he lowers amicably for me to slip the bridle over. He’s not a complete pushover, though—I have to wiggle my finger at the corner of his mouth before he lets me pop the snaffle bit in. I get it settled, fix his forelock, and give him a little cheek scratch.
“Ready boy? My date should be here in a minute, maybe we can go knock out this round pen thing while we wait.” I turn to ask Michael and see that I’ve already got a date audience. “Oh, Grant! I didn’t see you there.”
He’s leaning casually against a post, in well-worn jeans and boots that I can tell have seen some hard work. His flannel shirt is rolled up to his elbows, showing off his nicely muscled forearms. He has a genuine smile for me. “I was coming to see if you needed help, but I can tell you’ve got it handled.”
“Oh, yeah, I’ve been doing this since I was tall enough to reach,” I agree.
“I can tell. Well, sir, any recommendations on who I should take out today?” He addresses Michael this time.
“Unless you choose Angel, Doc, or Champ I’ll have to clear you in the round pen or come with you on your date,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Let’s say I want somebody with more spunk. Who would you recommend?” he prompts.
He looks thoughtful, “For someone of your height, Bullet is probably your best bet. I’ll go get his saddle.” He heads back to the tack room.
“He seems to be a good guy,” Grant observes. “You can tell he cares about the horses.”
“Yes, he’s been really nice,” I agree. I’m starting to feel nervous, despite the horse magic woven into the air. This is as close to my home turf as I can get, I remind myself. I’m on solid ground here.
Grant and Michael saddle up Bullet in a jif, and I give out cookies to the first horses I greeted before I found the dispenser.
After demonstrating to Michael that we can both stop, turn, walk, and trot our horses in the round pen, he hands Grant a small radio which clips to the back of the saddle, in case we need assistance. We’re released to pick a trail, so we choose a green marker, and then it’s just us and the horses, walking in the cool shade of the woods. For a few moments, it’s just quiet and I soak in the peaceful familiarity hungrily. The land has more of a roll to it here than it does back home, but I relish feeling that connection that I’ve so missed.
Grant is the first one to speak, “So, we got interrupted that first night, and didn’t get to talk much about where we’re from or our families. I know y’all run cattle, and you have six older brothers, but that’s about it. What else do I need to know about Sadie Taylor?”
Where to even start? “Well, I’m nineteen, so I’m a later entry to the program.” He nods, and I keep trying to think of something he’ll find interesting, “My parents were high school sweethearts, and all of my brothers but two were old enough that they didn’t have to participate in the marriage program. Cade’s twenty-six, and he opted out last year. Teddy you saw at the meet-and-greet dinner; he got matched to Faith. Our land has been in my family for four generations now—my brothers and I are the fifth.”
“It’s nearly unheard of these days to have such a large family—your parents have truly been blessed.” He sounds sincere, “Do you guys raise anything other than cattle?”
“No, not much for sale. We breed the horses every few years when we want a new batch of colts, and we have a garden for our own use. Oh, and my dad plants a big flower patch for my mom every year, since she loves fresh flowers so much. She shares those with the ladies at church,” I finish. That’s probably more detail than he wanted, but I’m not sure where the line is with him. He seems interested, at least. “What about you, do you raise more than cattle?”
He chuckles, “Yeah, you could say that. We do cattle, of course. We’ve got a few hundred head of Brangus. We also have horse and livestock guardian dog breeding programs, plus our exotics.”
Now I’m curious, “What kind of exotics do you have?”
“Well, we’ve actually got quite a few now. We’ve got ostrich, emu, several different types of non-native deer, a small wolf pack, and even a couple of big cats.” He directs Bullet around a log, and I follow with Hercules.
“How on God’s green earth did you go from a rancher to a full-on zoo?” I’ve never heard of a ranch with that many exotic animals.
“It’s kind of a long story. But, the gist of it is, a few years before I took over from my pops, the ranch fell on hard times. We had a couple of real dry years, and with no grass the herd almost ate us out of house and home, and the town was close to being closed.” He scoots Bullet back to the side of the trail, so I can bring Hercules back up to his side. “We were close to the whole place going under, when an old school friend of mine called me up. He had left town to become a closer, and a city they were working in a few hours away had a bird sanctuary that had been abandoned.
Luckily it was large, and the birds foraged for food and survived. He asked if I could make room for some ostriches, and paid me a good fee to come pick them up and give them a home at the ranch.”
I knew closers were tasked with cleaning up and shuttering abandoned towns, but I never dreamed they’d find abandoned ostriches. “That’s crazy! So, you just stuck them in a field? They’re fine?”
“We’ve had to build specialty fencing and create separate areas for each new species, but yeah, overall they’re pretty happy. They each have a good-sized shelter and plenty of room to roam. Plus, you’ve never seen anything funnier than a whole flock of ostriches chasing the feed buggy.” he snorts in amusement.
I laugh, taken by the mental picture. “I can only imagine! So how’s the ranch doing now?” I’m thinking back, and I’m pretty sure Glitch’s Bachelor Book had his wealth listed in the mid-seven figure range. Something had to have turned around.
“It’s doing great. That was a real turning point for our ranch and our whole town, really. It became a regular thing. Now I employ several young men in town as a road crew to pick up new acquisitions when the closers find them, and transport them to us, or other sites like ours if it’s a species we aren’t able to keep. They’ve done pickups from Playa Reino all the way up to Ionoiri, so far.” He sounds proud, and he should be. It’s impressive that he was able to save his ranch, and the town.
“That’s amazing. I know so many places have closed up and had to consolidate. Jackson Flats is really the only decent-sized city for a few hours in any direction, now. Everything else is either closed or abandoned.” It’s crazy to drive to the nearest city, and pass so many ghost towns. Some of them were closed by a team and look like they could reopen at any minute. Others have been abandoned far longer, and nature is starting to take back over.
We ride and chat amicably, and before we know it, the green trail markers have led us back to the stable grounds. We dismount and lead the horses towards the door. Michael appears, and takes the reins from us. “It’s okay,Michael, I’d really like to brush him down,” I try to argue.
