My Cowboy Freedom

by Z. A. Maxfield

  “Yeah.” Elena normally gave me a list and some containers. I pick whatever she needs. “That’s all me.”

  He smiled, and God, it was weird, not only because the hands didn’t normally pay me any attention, but also because I’m not real used to looking up at any man, smiling or not. But having Sky smile down at me was like being blessed by a particularly handsome, tattooed god—one you couldn’t be sure had your best interest at heart.

  And I burned to find out if I could have more than a smile from him.

  “You must have a little magic inside you to grow all that,” he said.

  “Magic? Nah.” That’s what I said, ’cause I’m just chock full of great comebacks . . . “I just think like a plant.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. Green goes up. Roots need room and water. Add sun. It’s not rocket science.”

  “You start all these from seeds?”

  “Mostly, yeah. I buy onion sets.”

  “Wow.” He looked at me like I was just amazing, and not in the way that some people do—like they’re amazed that I can do anything at all.

  Sky looked at me and I looked back at the baskets of tomatoes, the bundles of cilantro and green onions, and all the different colors of chard, and I felt amazing.

  He tipped his goddamn cowboy hat, just like in the movies. “So I’ll see you around, huh?”

  I was not wrong. The interest in his eyes was all for me. “Yeah.”

  Oh, good grief, yes. I will see you around. You can count on it.

  Chapter 10

  Sky

  I kicked my horse into a lope along the fence line closest to the road, following Chandler and three other hands: Tad, and Jason and Robbie something. They were brothers but we’d barely spoken yet so I didn’t know them.

  Chandler seemed to want to hang back and talk to me, so we let those boys ride on ahead.

  “I’m glad to see you still ride. Otherwise tomorrow would be your basic baptism by fire.”

  So he’d been paying attention. “I don’t know how I’m going to feel in the morning. I haven’t ridden in a long time.”

  “You’ll probably feel like a bag of busted eggs.” He grinned. “You gonna call in sick?”

  “No, sir. Even if I broke every bone in my body, you could still expect me on the trail tomorrow. I won’t let you down.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. You’ll build up a tolerance soon enough, but I’d advise you to get a hot shower and a good night’s sleep tonight.”

  “What’s tomorrow?”

  “We move the heard closer by increments as winter approaches. That way, they’ll graze as long as possible before the weather turns too foul. They’re clear on the other side of the hills, so tomorrow we’ll truck the hands and horses out to a starting point and bring ’em closer. Faster that way.”

  “You think we’re in for a bad winter?”

  “I ain’t got a crystal ball. We’ll be prepared for what we can foresee, but the rest is up to the man upstairs.”

  It’s easy to forget how much a rancher’s livelihood depends on the weather, on fate, on the whim of some higher power you can’t predict.

  We rode along in silence while I soaked everything in.

  “You ever hear from my mom?” I wished I didn’t care about the answer. I’d written my mother to let her know I’d be released, and that I had a job waiting for me at the Rocking C. It was what you’d call a formality. I’d written because it was right, not because I thought she’d answer.

  I’d have felt bad if I hadn’t written to her. I didn’t want to have regrets anymore.

  “Christmas cards.” Boss shifted uncomfortably. “I heard Luna got into some fancy college?”

  “Brown.” Thinking about my baby sister brought familiar warmth. “Got a card a few months back, when she graduated high school. She wants to study political science, become a lawyer, and take up for the little guy.”

  “Your dad would be real proud of her.”

  “He would.” I walked my horse alongside the boss’s until Tad dropped back to join us.

  “Got a couple busted fence posts up ahead,” he said. “Looks like a car ran off the road and knocked them down.”

  “Fuck.” The boss’s exclamation startled me. “I can’t tell you how sick I am of poachers.”

  “There are skid marks disappearing into the shoulder,” Tad pointed toward the road. “It was probably an accident.”

  “They want us to think it’s an accident.” Chandler raged. “Motherfuckers come here and hunt on Rocking C land. Do they think I’m an idiot?”

  The boss urged his horse into a gallop. I followed, but not too close since he was mad as a hornet.

  We were almost to the busted fence when one of the Rocking C trucks roared past. Ogre and I put on more speed. The big gelding stretched out, seemingly thrilled to be testing his limits. I had to hang on to my new hat as something unfamiliar bubbled up inside me.

  It took me a few seconds to realize it was joy.

  When we got to the site, we saw skid marks on the road. The way the fence had been plowed over, you had to figure it was an accident. Nobody’d go to the trouble to make things look like an accident anyway. Poaching is kind of an age-old, stealth thing. Most poachers—even bad ones—wouldn’t leave a mess like that one behind.

  But the boss couldn’t let it go right away.

  “Ever since Rock came to us, the deer population has exploded here. The deer leases are added income, of course. But we get poachers now. They think they can just cut my fences, drive onto my land. They think they can take my animals. Well, by God—”

  “Did you call Fish and Game? Because if you’ve got hunters on your land you don’t know about, one of the hands or Elena could get hurt.”

  I’m thinking about Rock of course. Seeing that busted fence is worrisome.

  “Motherfuckers.” Chandler kicked at some wire and boards that were all that remained of about a ten-foot section. “Motherfuckers. Motherfuckers!”

  He lost control and we all kind of stood there, shocked.

  Nobody knew where to look, even, when the boss actually turned purple with rage. Tad and them tried to calm him down, but he wasn’t having any of that. We started righting fence posts, and of course, I came away bloody from being a dumbass—taking my gloves off for something delicate and then dragging the palm of my hand over a barb.

  Damn thing tore my skin ragged, so I used one of the bandanas Tad made me buy to make a temporary bandage.

  The boss paced behind us. “Ogre’s going to smell that blood.”

  Right. “So what do I do?”

  “Stop bleeding.” His horse danced nervously beneath him. “I need a goddamn ride. Wanna come?”

  I glanced around. “Don’t you want me to help finish up out here?”

  “No. I want to show you around,” he said petulantly. “I want to show you what my daughter and son-in-law threw back in my face. C’mon.”

  He took off and I waited, glancing at Tad. He gave a slight nod. “Go.”

  I went.

  “You had a tetanus shot lately?” Chandler asked, once we’d gone some distance.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  “If there’s any doubt, we’ll have to get you one.” He slowed his horse to a walk beside mine and I started to take in our surroundings.

  I’d idealized the Rocking C, but the reality was just as good. Despite the eye-watering aroma of a horse stall that needs mucking out, despite the burning pain of a day spent in the saddle, I loved every minute of it.

  The terrain changed as we neared the river that snaked through ranch. Trees grew dense near the water, and there I made out deer scat and the signs of other wildlife. Our mounts picked their way carefully between the trees as the way grew less tamed. We ducked under branches, a dozen birds taking fl
ight above us, into the wide blue sky.

  “So you met Rocky?” Chandler still looked a little florid so I slowed up.

  “Yeah. When I got here.”

  “Good kid. Had one helluva tough break and came out of it kinda confused. It came to me that life here might give him something to think about beside his troubles.”

  I tried to be casual about prying. “What’s his deal? I know he has the dog—”

  “Kid was hit by lightning, if you can believe that. Caught what you call a splash strike. Gave him epilepsy and some other problems. If he’d been hit dead on, well . . . he wouldn’t be with us. It was that bad.”

  “That’s awful.” I saw the similarity between Rock and me right away. We were both damaged goods. The thought made me smile. “You seem to be collecting other people’s kids.”

  “I done such an awesome job with my own I should probably rethink that, huh?” He sighed. “You remember my daughter Andrea?”

  “Sure. She was just a baby when we left, but yeah. Cute as a kitten.”

  “I know, right? Exactly. They’re cute when they’re little but then they grow up, watch out. I used to believe I was a rational man, but that girl of mine—” Chandler tipped back his hat to rub at his forehead. “Me and her are like fire and gasoline. I can’t get anything right. She’s exactly like her goddamn mother.”

  I’d met his wife, of course. She used to sit on the porch of the ranch house and read. Whenever I had occasion to talk to her it seemed like she was looking past me.

  “I never really knew Mrs. Chandler.”

  “I didn’t either, apparently.” His words held a world of pain. “Her heart was always somewhere else. Eventually, she left to find it.”

  “People leave,” I said, but I wasn’t sure why. It didn’t seem like he expected a reply anyway. People’s hearts . . . well, what did I know about those? I knew about people’s bodies.

  Their crimes and their lies.

  We rode the rest of the day, so by suppertime I regretted my earlier enthusiasm. My ass was on fire and I had a blinding headache from too much sun. I washed up at the basin outside the ranch house and grabbed a towel. Nobody paid me any attention, so I guessed word got around about the ink and it wasn’t that interesting anymore.

  I didn’t see Rock or Elena during supper so I guessed they ate in the house with the boss. We helped ourselves from a table laden with Crock-Pots and hot dishes, baskets of cornbread muffins, and a bowl of fruit. We poured glasses of water and lemonade from several large, frosty pitchers.

  The hands laughed and joked while putting away an immense amount of food and I got a second chance to meet Robbie and Jason.

  They’d started out in Oklahoma with rodeo dreams. The younger one, Jason, had been eyeing me most of the meal but I couldn’t figure out why, unless the prison thing made him curious. Probably it did. Like with rubbernecking at an accident on the side of the road, some folks just can’t help their curiosity.

  My theory proved correct when Jason cornered me later at the dessert end of the buffet. “So what was it like?”

  “What was what like?” I dipped a scoop of some sort of cobbler from a Crock-Pot. It looked like what my mother used to call “dump cake.” Cherry filling with a crumb crust. Tasty.

  “Prison? Duh.”

  Jason seemed like a decent kid, and he wouldn’t have asked if he had a clue, so I cut him some slack. “I’m out, and I am never going back.”

  “Were you scared?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “Tad says you killed a guy for raping your girlfriend?”

  “Knock it off, Jase.” Robbie interrupted him before turning to me. “You don’t have to answer that. Some people got no class.”

  The most interesting thing about this conversation—to me—was that nobody’d set them straight yet. Apparently, what you told Rock in confidence stayed private. Which only made me like him more. “It’s public record what I did.”

  “I know.” Robbie’s tone was gentle. “But you don’t have to tell everyone you meet your whole life story. Jase here always wants to know everything.”

  “Is it so wrong to be interested in people?” Jason asked. “I just like to know who I’m sitting down to eat with.”

  “Some stuff is personal.” Robbie cuffed his arm. “And you do not have to know every little thing.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” I said. “I did time for murder. It wasn’t my intention to kill anyone, but intentions don’t mean shit. I can’t bring him back.” Not that I’d want to. “I wish things were different.”

  True enough.

  Tad sat down with us, “As far as I’m concerned if you were protecting a woman, you did what you had to do.”

  “You don’t always think straight in the heat of the moment,” Robbie was on my side too, apparently.

  “Where’s your girlfriend now?” Tad asked. “Is she okay?”

  “It was my sister,” I said quietly.

  “Oh shit.” Jason’s face fell. “No fucking way. I’m so sorry, man.”

  “It is what it is.” I wished they would let it go. Maybe that got through to them, because Robbie put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and stopped him from asking anything more.

  “Let the man eat in peace.”

  I made myself take my time. I made myself put a napkin in my lap and adhere to manners I hadn’t dusted off in years. Like unfamiliar clothes, polite conversation was uncomfortable. “Pass the hot sauce, please?”

  “Here you go.” Robbie handed the bottle my way with a grin. “You excited to be on the trail tomorrow?”

  “I’m a little nervous,” I admitted. “Never moved cattle before.”

  With a laugh, Jason nudged me in the ribs. “They move themselves mostly. We just get them started and follow along. Make sure we don’t lose any.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  “Dogs do a lot of the chasing. But it will be a hot, dusty, and exhausting day.”

  “After supper, we’re gonna play some cards, and then turn in early,” said Robbie. “You’re welcome to join us if you like.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “But I’m gonna grab a hot shower and hit the sack.”

  I stood up and gathered my plates. While I scraped, rinsed, and stacked them, I could hear the boys’ talking in hushed tones behind me. I was drying my hands off when Jason approached. “You ain’t got hard feelings, right?”

  “About what?” I asked.

  “Robbie says we shoulda shut up about prison and such. I’m sorry if we made you feel—”

  I held up my hands. “It’s fine. Can’t fault you for wanting to know who your neighbors are.”

  “Well, like Robbie said, we’ll be playing some cards. Drinking some beer, just to be neighborly. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “Thanks, but—”

  Tad spoke. “Jase, you dumbass, he’s on parole. He can’t drink alcohol.”

  “Is that true?” Jason appeared stunned.

  “I can get jammed up bad if I drink. My parole gets revoked.”

  “For one beer? That’s fucking harsh.”

  “Alcohol hasn’t got anything on breathing this fresh country air.” I said. “I can tell you now, there ain’t enough beer in the world to make me leave the Rocking C.”

  “Well, all right, then,” he grinned and left. The rest of the hands followed.

  I hung around as long as I dared, to see if Rock was going to come out and get the dishes.

  I shouldn’t have. But it turns out I have a hard time with my own curiosity. And Rock, the horse-shy ranch hand who’d been struck by lightning, piqued mine.

  Chapter 11

  Sky

  Every so often, the hands’ laughter rose over their card game and onto the wind. The sound reminded me of waves building, cresting, breaking, and subsiding. Jason’
s laugh was pitched the highest, then Tad’s next. Robbie chuckled—a low sort of rumble that had to really get going before I could hear it from where I lay in my bunk.

  The faint strumming of a guitar carried from the ranch house.

  That was Rock, probably. I’d seen him with the case on the porch. Noticed his elegant, long-fingered hands. Felt the callouses when we shook. He sounded like he was just playing around, warming up. Getting ready to choose a song and start playing for real.

  I wore nothing but a pair of jeans, but like the night before, it was dark out. Nearly moonless.

  I jammed my feet into my new boots and stepped outside, drawn by the sweetness of the sound. He was only strumming. Occasionally picking. Running up and down the scale; what my dad—who’d played guitar—used to call “noodling.”

  But as I made my way along the trail to the house, he found a familiar melody and started to play it. I didn’t know what it was, but I liked it. The song nailed the evening’s mood for me, like Rock was writing the soundtrack for a movie featuring only the two of us. His playing was as haunting as the landscape. His music was built from heart and talent and fierce, brutal honesty.

  When I was close enough to see him, Rock looked like some country music star—healthy, despite his troubles. Wholesome as a milk commercial featuring a basketful of puppies.

  Speaking of dogs. Maisy knew I was there. She’d probably heard me coming as soon as I left the bunkhouse. But she lifted her regal head and blinked serenely into the darkness, so she must not have considered me a threat.

  Or maybe “watchdog” was beneath her pay grade. For whatever reason, she set her head back down on her paws and dozed off while I watched her master play for a bit.

  But then I considered how standing there in the shadows might appear to someone else—like I was stalking him or something. I cleared my throat. “Hey.”

  Rock’s fingers stilled. “Hey, Sky. I heard you guys fixed a downed fence today.”

  “Yeah. That’s right. Someone must have run off the road.”

  “We didn’t hear about anyone getting hurt. Must have been minor. Assholes should have told us about the fence, though. That’s common courtesy.”