Renegade Ridge

by Arabella Steedly

  I sat down beside him as he explained that after seeing what a great job Kent was doing he wrote the dean of admissions at the college and explained my situation. He believed the new medication was helping him regain his strength and endurance. "I'm anxious to get back in the saddle — literally and figuratively!"

  I was bubbling with joy and enthusiasm, and for a moment dying to share the good news with Kent. Then like I had pricked my finger, I jerked. Something told me to be careful; Kent may see my new opportunity as history repeating itself and revert to his brooding dark mood.

  When I had asked Daddy, he assured me that Kent knew all about it and was grateful for his promotion. Of course, Kent would put on a brave face in front of his boss — a man! But his reaction to me when we were alone may be entirely different.

  That morning after Daddy and I had finished our breakfast I waited out front for Kent. It wasn't long, like any other day, before I saw Kent's red truck turn into the driveway. But I could tell by the scowl on his face even before he got out of the truck that he wasn't the happy-go-lucky Kent I was used to seeing.

  He glanced up at me and gave me a weak smile before slamming the door. "Good morning, Rachel," he said like I was just his co-worker and he was reporting for work. Instead of waiting for me to step off the porch and walk toward the stable with him — our morning ritual — he went on without me. His face was expressionless when I called out, "Kent, can we talk for a moment?"

  “I have work to do. I have to clean up Fancy's stall,” Kent said and rushed toward the stable.

  I followed, and with desperation in my voice, I said, "Kent, I know you know. Daddy told me." Kent nodded his head but didn’t turn to face me. After all, our relationship had blossomed, and I was falling deeply in love with him. So I ran up and tugged on his arm, desperate to break through his darkness so we could talk things out together.

  "Okay, that's great. Best of luck to you," Kent said and pulled his arm away.

  I reached for his hand, but he yanked it away, too. "Can we talk about this, please? Don’t let history repeat itself! Stop acting like you did at graduation,” I pleaded.

  At the mention of our graduation, Kent stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face me. At first, his green eyes burned into mine, and then he looked away. He paused for a moment and rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s nothing to discuss here. You’re going to New York. You’re going to college. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

  “Yes, it was, but things have changed over the years,” I said in a softer voice, trying not to cry.

  He arched his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips. “How have things changed, Rachel? You don’t want to go to college anymore?” he asked, his voice harsh and rude. I cowered and pulled away.

  “No, I’ve always dreamed of this, but now…”

  Kent clenched his jaws and jammed his hands into his jean’s pockets. “Good, then best of luck in New York, and I hope you achieve everything you’ve ever hoped for." Then he paused and cleared his throat and made an effort to sound a bit kinder. "Look, Rachel, it’s our destiny. You need to go on. I wish you well."

  ****

  I was zipping my suitcase shut when I heard Daddy hollering from the foot of the stairs. “You ready? We need to leave for the airport in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Yes, I’ll be right down,” I said, as I buckled the strap of my carry-on bag so it could piggy-back on top of my large suitcase. Last week I had shipped most of my winter clothing to the dormitory. The dean assured me my packages would be waiting when I arrived for orientation.

  When I got downstairs, Sally and Daddy helped me with my bags. I was glad she had decided to stay on to cook and clean. Even though Daddy no longer needed a nurse, they seemed to have become close friends. After I double-checked that I had everything — bags, purse, phone, and of course, my the receipt for my e-ticket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kent standing in the shadow inside the stable. I hurriedly said, "Oh, wait I want to tell Georgie-B goodbye and check one last time on the others.” I wanted a goodbye kiss from Kent. I needed to touch him — give him another chance to beg me to stay.

  As I entered the stable Kent stepped out of the shadows and tipped his hat. "Best of luck Rachel." Then he turned and opened the door to Licorice's stall and closed it behind him.

  Inside the car, I felt like a first grader getting on the school bus for the very first time. Pressing my face close to the window, I watched Pitchfork Ranch disappear behind us. I swallowed hard and wondered what adventure lay ahead. But for some reason, I didn't feel as excited as I would have if I had been eighteen. Life had washed away the naïveté of my youth.

  I heard Daddy and Sally chatting away, telling me how they looked forward to visiting in a month or two, but all I could think about was Kent. I felt we had blown our second chance to be together. And I wondered if Kent was secretly happy I was leaving. Perhaps all he really wanted was to get me to sleep with him in the first place. Tears started running down my cheeks, and I accidentally whispered, "He wouldn't even kiss me goodbye."

  Daddy looked up into the rearview mirror. "Are you all right back there,” He asked. “I know it's sad leaving home for the first time. I’ll miss you! But you'll be fine in a few days." I wasn't sure who Daddy was trying to convince, him or me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kent

  It had been three long weeks since Rachel had come to tell me goodbye. After I was sure she couldn't see me, I watched Sam's van disappear over the hill going toward Cody. I had totally been fucked over. Every time I thought about Rachel, I came up with the same questions. Did she put her dreams ahead of our relationship? Or was it our destiny not to be together?

  My pity party was in full swing when two days later Sam moseyed up and asked what I thought about moving my fifth- wheeler permanently to the ranch. At first, I wondered why, out of the blue, Sam would make such an offer, but moments later he answered my question. "I've been watching you for several weeks now and see you have a God-given gift for training horses." Then he took off his Stetson and scratched his head. "Maybe you're one of those horse whisperers like in the movies?”

  We both laughed and my angry mood lifted. There was something about Sam that reminded me of Rachel. When I was around him, I felt less angry, and my PTSD seemed to melt away. After considering for a moment, I decided it was his smile, and I realized how feeling bitter wasn’t the answer.

  So I nodded my head, and said, "Sounds like a plan to me."

  Within two days Sam had a cement truck backed up between two Hawthorne trees at the far side of the stable, pouring a slab for my trailer. Three days later I was a permanent resident of Pitchfork Ranch, with my own water and electrical hook-ups. I even had satellite TV.

  I could tell Sam missed his daughter, and I figured having me around helped ease his loneliness. Being around him felt comfortable for me, so things began to fall in place. Most days Sam kept me busy teaching reining to Licorice, then he started riding Georgie-B again. I swore Georgie could sense Sam was out of shape, so he was careful to take it easy around the barrels — at first. But by last week they were showing daily improvement and had cut three seconds off their time.

  The next day Sam rode up to me and pointed toward the hay field that needed mowing. "Kent, you know what, since we’re busy with the horses and the last two of the mares are due any day now, you don’t have time to mow. Already several breeders and trainers are calling, inquiring about the four new foals. Just dealing with our breeding and training schedule will keep the two of us busy. I think it would be best if we hired us a ranch hand. What do you say?"

  It thrilled me to death. I had always hoped that someday I could get paid for training horses at a professional level. I shook my head in silent wonder at the turn of events with Rachel and her family. I had always felt Rachel would make a beautiful wife and mother. As I had gotten to know her better, I was sure my suspicions were correct. I had even fantasized about building a house somewhere ne
arby Sam and living our lives out together.

  I knew I should be proud of Rachel, a small-town girl from Wyoming attending a fancy New York college, working hard to develop her potential. Several times I had picked up my phone to call her then chickened out. I was afraid I would say the wrong thing, not knowing how to tell her how much I missed her.

  A few days later, after doing a working interview with three prospects, we hired Gavin. It seemed they all said they wanted to work. But when it came to carrying heavy bales of hay and cutting themselves on the barbed wire mending fences, they didn't show up the next day.

  So far Gavin was doing okay for a green nineteen-year-old kid, but he could have done with some military training. He was lousy at following orders and was late for work this morning. Moments ago, he had the audacity to ask me to go pick up his pliers he had absentmindedly left by the fence. Sam was standing there watching and knew Gavin had pissed me off when I whipped around, and asked, "What the fuck did you say?"

  Gavin rethought his question, and with a sheepish grin, he said, "Oh, nothing Kent, I was just making a joke."

  I took off my hat and ran my palm through my hair, trying to control my anger. "Look, we take our work seriously around here. So don't go joking with me. Walk your ass on out there — maybe you won't forget the next time.”

  Gavin looked like I had slapped him in the face — what a pussy. He turned around and started sauntering back to where we were working.

  Then I heard Sam holler, "Kent! That's enough. I think the kid got your message."

  I turned to face Sam and lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. That won’t ever happen again. I don’t know what I was thinking."

  Sam narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows with worry instead of anger. Then he stepped closer and put one hand on my shoulder. "You know, son, you shouldn't have let her go."

  I cocked my head to one side, and asked, “What are you talking about?"

  A grin came over his face. “Kent, I’ve lived almost fifty-five years now, and it didn't take me but a minute to figure there was a spark between you and Rachel. I had never seen her face light up like it did when you walked up that first day.”

  I knew Sam was a smart old bird, but I had no idea he would intervene and encourage our relationship. “I know you love her,” he added. I felt my heart had been punctured by an arrow. I had never spoken those words aloud, and I never imagined Rachel’s father had either. Before he walked on Sam peered into my eyes and nodded. “You know son, saying you love somebody doesn’t make you a pussy — it makes you a man!”

  Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I looked up at Sam. “She wanted to go to college,” I said. “I didn’t want to stop her from achieving her dreams.”

  Sam smiled and clapped me on the back as we turned and walked toward the house. “You’ve been brave, and I commend your nobility. But Kent, I know my daughter. She stopped wanting to leave home soon after you started working here.”

  I narrowed my eyes in confusion, and countered, “But you’re the one who wrote away to the college.”

  Sam's face was beaming with joy when he answered. "Because I wanted to give her a choice — to test her to see if that was what she really wanted. And besides, I also had an ulterior motive."

  "What was that?" I asked, keeping in step with him.

  "And I wanted you both to admit the truth to each other." Then Sam shook his head and chuckled. "But you are both too damned bull-headed!" My jaw fell slack as I tried to process what Sam had just told me. Then with a gleam in his eyes, he said, "I know where Rachel gets her stubborn streak. I figure you got yours from your mother."

  I threw my head back and laughed. "That's right. You and Sally and Mama went to school together."

  Sam smiled shyly. "Yeah, and I took her to the drive-in theater one time."

  "What, you and Mama?"

  "Yep, but after one date she ditched me for your father — he was much older and already owned a ranch.” Then Sam stopped and reminded me. "You better go check on that knucklehead Gavin, and tell him to be on time tomorrow!"

  I paused for a moment, but Sam kept on walking. Then I reached out and grabbed his arm. "What should I do...I mean about Rachel?"

  Sam lowered his head and peered up at me through his bushy eyebrows. "If I were you I'd get in that old truck of yours — make sure you change the oil first — and drive down to Cheyenne. Then ease east on I-80 and don't get off until you reach New Jersey.”

  I nodded my head, and Sam continued. “Then hit the New Jersey Turnpike and follow it across the Hudson River to New York City!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rachel

  It was Friday and I was pushing the dormitory door open as I pulled my wool sweater around my shoulders. Stepping over an empty coffee cup rolling in the crisp breeze, I rushed toward the lecture hall, wondering about Kent. How was he doing? What was he doing? He hadn’t called, so I figured he might have found someone else. I made it just in time to find my seat before Dr. Morris began handing out our algebra test. I glanced around and could count on one hand the women I knew on a first name basis.

  Soon after I had arrived on campus, several weeks ago, I realized I was at least eight years older than most of the girls, so making friends had not come easy. After all, I was from Wyoming, and many of the others attending Barnard College were from the surrounding areas. So I was viewed as a dumb, unpolished cowgirl, who had no fashion sense at all. And to me, many of them were spoiled freaks with their purple hair, nose piercings, and cutesy tattoos.

  As I dug in my backpack for my mechanical pencil, I heard Dr. Morris say, "Okay, ladies, you may turn your tests over and began now. You have sixty minutes!"

  I bit my lip as I glanced over the test of only ten problems, broken down into ten points each. Out of all the online courses I had taken, not one had prepared me for college algebra — a freshman requirement. I had studied hard and recalled some of what I had learned in high school about the quadratic equation. So this test was relatively simple. But the next segment of the course would end with exponentials and logarithms — oy vey!

  Thirty minutes later I walked up to Dr. Morris' desk and handed him my test. He looked up at me and the corners of his lips turned up in an obligatory smile. "Have a nice day," he said.

  I felt cold as I walked out and sauntered past the ivy-covered brick walls, headed back toward my matchbox-sized dorm room. After trying to breathe in a breath of fresh air, I almost coughed from the exhaust fumes caused by the trucks and buses moving up and down Broadway. I missed the fresh, cool air that blew down off the mountains. I missed Kent, Daddy, the horses, and even Sally — and on and on.

  Taking my time — what was the hurry, all my homework and studies were done for the weekend — my mind became awash in memories of Kent and me making love together. I wished I had the privacy to pleasure myself, but that seemed impossible. As soon as I would lock my door something or somebody would disturb me. So I decided to take the subway to the Metropolitan Museum — one of the few places in New York City I had fallen in love with.

  Just as I passed the security guard's shack beside the student parking lot, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I spotted a red beat up truck that looked just like Kent's. I squinted, not sure if what I was seeing was real or a dream. Then I gasped when I realized Kent was leaning against the trunk of a nearby tree with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me.

  My bag fell off my shoulder as I ran to meet him. My heart was beating so hard I felt I couldn't breathe, and my eyes began to sting. Kent rushed toward me with open arms. When our bodies came together, we embraced each other. I lay my head against his leather jacket and I could hear his heart pounding in his chest. I was sobbing so hard he had to pry my face away by cupping my chin in his hand. Then he gazed into my teary eyes, and said, "I've missed you, Rachel."

  My tongue was numb. My mouth was dry. I tried to form words with my lips, but I was dumbstruck, rendered mute. All I could do was squ
eeze Kent tightly and nod my head. I'm not sure how long we stood there in our embrace, slowly swaying back and forth. Two souls alone on their private island, surrounded by the masses of New York City. Finally, he picked me up and swung me around like I was a young school girl. Then I giggled and managed to say, "Kent I've missed you so much. I can't believe you're here.”

  "Can you believe it now," he asked bending down to kiss me. Our lips locked and his tongue slipped between my lips. I pushed back as a burning desire for him rushed over me. I knew we had a lot to talk about before we could give in to our physical need, so I asked, "How on earth did you manage to park here? And how long can you stay?”

  Kent nodded toward the security guard, who was facing the other way. "For twenty bucks he printed me a visitor's pass, but it's only good for twenty-four hours. So I will have to move it tomorrow. I’m staying till Monday if that’s okay with you?”

  I snuggled up against him again and answered with a question. “You can only stay till Monday?”

  As we walked over to pick up my bag, my mind was reeling with excitement. Kent and I were finally going to live out one of my dreams. He never knew about it, though, because I hadn’t a chance to invite him to visit me in the Big Apple back on our graduation day.

  I took his hand in mine. “Come on. Let's go across the street to Ollie’s and grab a sandwich. You must be starving. How long did it take you to get here?”

  "Just a few days," he said, with a mischievous grin. I was so excited on so many levels that I became distracted and started to cross the street before the crosswalk signal turned green. Kent tugged on my arm, pulling me back as a taxi whizzed by right in front of me.

  I started giggling, giddy with delight. "How did you know that cab was coming?"

  By that time the crosswalk signal had turned green, and as we stepped down into the street, Kent smirked and said, "Rachel, I've been to many big cities all around the world. Just because I'm dressed in jeans and cowboy boots doesn't mean I am green to city life."