by Sable Hunter
Chapter 3
“Now, isn’t this nice?” Jacob sat his plate on the ground at his feet. “Food always seems to taste better out of doors.”
“You did manage to put a delicious meal together.” Aron rubbed his stomach. “Now, all we need is dessert.” He looked toward Nathan. “Did you mention Oreos earlier?”
“Yea, I did. I’ll get ‘em.” Nathan stopped to pick up all of the tin plates they’d used to eat out of. “I’ll put these in the sink, Jacob.”
“Much appreciated.”
The glow from the campfire lit the area well enough for Nathan to make his way down the path and into the cabin. The kerosene lamp on the dining table put off a soft glow as he stacked the dishes. Taking a kettle from the woodstove, he poured some hot water over the plates. “Now for the fun part.”
Hurrying to the bunk where he’d stored his gear, Nathan removed the package of cookies. He’d carefully taped it shut to make it look like the bag had never been opened. Thinking this might be his only opportunity to prepare for his next prank, Nathan decided to take advantage. “No time like the present.”
Setting aside the cookies, he removed one of the sets of special clothing he’d brought for Aron – everything from underwear to a hat. “This is going to drive him crazy.” Glancing at the door to make sure no one was coming, he made for Aron’s bag and replaced the clothing contained inside with the items he’d brought. Each piece was identical, just a different size. With a grin, he took his brother’s Stetson off the bedpost and replaced it with another of the same style and color – again a smaller version. “I even cut out the headband size. Yes, I’m good.”
After hiding Aron’s original clothes, he stuffed his bag back under the bunk and called it done. “Tomorrow’s going to be a blast.”
With a smile, he picked up the cookies and left the cabin. As he walked, he wondered how his little trick would go over. Like a lead balloon? A hint of reticence slowed his steps. As he approached the campfire, Nathan could hear the others talking. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but he did notice the conversation died down as he neared. Again, his Spidey senses zoomed to high alert. No doubt he’d been the topic of conversation. Any reluctance he’d felt about the wisdom of his prank vanished. “Who wants a cookie?”
A chorus of Me’s and I do’s met him as he passed around the bag. As if designed by a choreographer, all five brothers put the cream filled chocolate cookie in their mouth at the same time. After a couple of chews, a barrage of gags and acks sounded around the campfire.
“Yuck! Toothpaste!” Aron rose and stepped away from the fire to rid his mouth of the offensive bite. He wasn’t the only one, soon each McCoy was wiping their mouth and rinsing it with water.
“Nathan! You little shit!” Noah glared at their little brother. “What is wrong with you?”
“Look at the bright side. You won’t have to brush your teeth tonight.” Nathan held his stomach. He’d never laughed so hard.
Jacob recovered first, walking to the cabin, and returning with the remains of the snickerdoodles. “Here, this will take the taste out of your mouth.” He passed them around, skipping Nathan. “You can eat your Oreos, bud.”
“I think someone has too much time on his hands,” Aron muttered drolly.
“A little while ago, you told me I wouldn’t have time to check out the coywolves. Make up your mind.” Nathan’s comeback was made in jest, but there was a thread of truth in his words.
Aron adjusted his bedroll, making himself comfortable in front of the fire. “Some things are worth doing, and some things are a waste of time. When you’re able to judge the difference, you’ll be a responsible adult.”
Even though he’d spent a lifetime being corrected and advised by the five men around him, somehow it didn’t sit well tonight. “I am an adult. Full grown.” And able to take any of you on any day of the week. The last sentence was voiced only in his head and Nathan knew he was fortunate none of his brothers could read minds like he could.
“Then act like it.” This harsh addendum came from Noah.
Picking up on the judgement each of the men were feeling toward him, Nathan threw up his hands. “It was a joke. I’m going for a walk.”
None of them tried to stop him and Nathan felt alone.
Heading away from the campfire, he walked to the rear of the cabin and just kept going. Right now, he wanted to put as much distance between him and his family as possible.
Without a destination in mind, Nathan kept moving until he came to the base of one of the rocky hills surrounding the river valley. Despite the danger of falling or snakebite, he set out to climb. The quarter moon shining overhead gave him some light and his extrasensory abilities carried him the rest of the way. When he came to an outcropping of granite, he took a seat. Lifting his head, he looked out on the vista below and the sight took his breath away. Tebow lay before him, a study of light and shadow. A thousand shades of gray colored the landscape. He’d never known color could be so dispensable. The more he looked, the more he could see. A breeze drifting through the huge spreading oaks moved the branches just enough to make them appear to be swaying in time to some faraway music and tying it all together was the silvery Guadalupe glinting in the moonlight. Shutting his eyes, Nathan sought the peace only the night could bring.
After a few minutes of deep breathing, he conceded to the fact that he needed a little help. Fishing inside his jacket pocket, he pulled out a small vial. No, he wasn’t doing drugs. He’d never even been tempted to use drugs. This was something different. CBD oil. After Cady turned him on to it, he’d done his own research, learning the cannabis derivative could help with anxiety. Some thought it could reduce the brain activity associated with psychotic disorders. Not that he considered himself to be psychotic – although some others might. No, he’d validated the information he received from his gift far too many times to think it was all in his head. Nathan didn’t know where the messages and impressions bombarding his brain came from, but they weren’t his imagination.
Learning how to deal with his condition was difficult. Cady taught him how to cope. She’d told him how his brief foray beyond the veil opened a channel, a door to the other side. Being far more powerful than he, Cady could control her gift. Nathan wasn’t as lucky. Like he and Cady discussed, he was just too sensitive to his family to quell the images and impressions they produced. The only solution to the problem he’d found was to make himself scarce.
Another difficult place for him was in a crowd. The rodeo arena proved to be the exception, probably because his attention was always so focused on the animals. A school classroom, however, was different. Things were just too quiet. While he couldn’t distinguish most stranger’s thoughts and emotions, there was always a dull roar in the back of his mind. Trying to function and act normal was exhausting.
If he could manage to control his perception, Nathan would’ve chosen to pursue a doctorate, not in veterinary medicine as Dr. Rach suggested but in the field of psychology. He felt there was much the scientific community did not understand about the matter. He’d read one study where a comparison was made between a group of people who considered themselves to be psychic and a group who’d been diagnosed as psychotic. They both heard voices or felt they were receiving information from outside themselves. The difference was how they were perceived. Those who identified as psychic had an easier time of controlling their experience and didn’t seek help because the reception of their ‘gift’ by others was primarily positive. Those who identified as psychotic would seek medical aid because they’d experienced negative public perception. In summary, psychic ability was perceived as good while identifying as psychotic was deemed bad – at least in society’s eyes. Nathan couldn’t help but wonder how people’s lives would be different if a greater understanding of the matter could be achieved.
In his case, he’d learned to cope for the most part. He certainly knew he wasn’t crazy, but if he’d had his druthers, Nathan woul
d’ve opted out of the psychic gift program for sure. It limited his life, keeping him from taking part in many activities he would’ve enjoyed.
Especially with women.
The last successful relationship he’d had was with Kirsten. Of course, he’d been younger then. His gift or condition, or whatever you wanted to call it, was stronger now. He had a harder time creating a protective barrier around himself and when he let that barrier down, he found out things he never wanted to know. Reading another person’s every thought was a recipe for disaster. So, he sought solitude instead of a social life. It seemed easier, definitely lonelier, but easier.
As far as a career was concerned, he didn’t really see that he had a choice. Like everyone told him, he was damn lucky. His family’s ranch was profitable. They owned a great deal of valuable land. There was enough work to keep him busy from sunup to sunset. Still, he longed for something else. To say he wasn’t fulfilled seemed frivolous and ungrateful.
Holding the bottle in his hand, he unscrewed the top and filled the dropper about halfway. Holding it to his lips, he dropped the concoction on his tongue. This particular brand tasted like strawberry jam to him. Thankfully, the sweet taste didn’t inhibit the calming properties of the oil. Some people found the stuff made them sleepy, it didn’t affect him that way. Instead, he just felt more in control. Throwing up a mental wall with it was easier than trying to do it on his own.
After taking the small dose, he leaned against the rock and let his system absorb the medicine. When his mind felt still, he rose to return to camp. As he made the way down the hill, the sound of the coywolves met his ears. Feeling curious, he veered in the direction from which the noise seemed to be coming from. Sometimes it was hard to tell, the night could play tricks on a person’s senses.
Walking quietly, Nathan moved from the rocky area to the trees. He was under no illusion that he’d slip up on the animals. They could smell him a mile off. Still if he approached them softly and slowly – they might not perceive him as a threat. The nearer he drew, the faster his pulse raced. If he wasn’t mistaken, he was picking up something from the coywolves themselves. For the first time, he regretted having taken the CBD oil. Nathan wished his senses were at their sharpest. Even with the calming effect brought on by the medicine, he could feel their fear…and their curiosity. What he didn’t pick up on was any aggression. Coming within a few dozen yards of the pack, Nathan knelt on the crest of a small hill where he could look down into a natural hollow. To his surprise, he found nine large coywolves standing in a semi-circle – all looking right at him.
Nathan tensed up for a few seconds, but he felt no threat. He kept watching, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light until he made eye contact with what appeared to be the alpha male, the leader of the pack. Over the years, he’d connected with domestic animals, especially his horse, Buck, and his dog, Lucky. A pang of pain hit his chest at the memory of losing his canine buddy after so many years together. Now, as he held the big coywolf’s gaze Nathan sent forth a message. Friend. Safe. Friend. Safe. He didn’t know if he was making a connection, but he wanted to try. After a few minutes, the big male made a guttural noise and turned away. The rest of the pack followed him.
Nathan stood up, in awe of what he’d seen. The majestic animals appeared to be healthy and thriving. He just wished they weren’t setting up shop on Tebow. As a rancher, he understood the need to protect the livestock. Having a pack so close to the herds would undoubtedly cause problems at one time or another. Even if the coywolves weren’t responsible for any mischief, they would get blamed. Nathan wished he could convey that idea to them. There were several wildlife preserves within a few miles but moving a pack of coywolves from one area to another without help from the wildlife authorities would be next to impossible. And getting their help could prove to be even harder. Still – something needed to be done.
Resolved to give the matter some serious thought, he set out on a path to the camp. When he arrived, he found everyone fast asleep. On second look, he noticed Aron was missing from his spot. He figured his older brother might’ve opted for a comfortable mattress instead of the hard ground. Unrolling his sleeping bag, he settled down to rest. He’d no more than closed his eyes before he felt someone nudge him.
“Hey. Where you been?”
Jumping a bit, his eyes popped open to see Aron standing over him. “Oh, just walking. And thinking.”
His big brother squatted down next to him. “I was concerned.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I didn’t go far.”
“If you hadn’t been here when I came back, I was going to rally the troops.”
Nathan didn’t know how he felt about that. “I’m not a kid, Aron. I’m six-three and weigh two-hundred twenty pounds. I can deadlift a steer. I’ve spent a night out on my own before.”
“I know. Doesn’t matter. I’ll always worry. I know I’m not your Daddy, but I love you more than just as a brother.”
“More than me?” Joseph asked, from the next sleeping bag.
“And me?” Noah chimed in.
“Oh, land sakes.” Aron sighed and stood up. “Go to sleep you toadstools. Everybody’s loved.”
“Thanks, Aron,” Nathan whispered. His brother’s concern made him feel secure and inadequate at the same time – very confusing.
Nathan awoke to the sound of laughter. The CBD oil usually made him sleep deeper than normal. However, he couldn’t have slept through this much racket with a double dose.
“Well, Aron. You’ve just blossomed.”
Noah’s observation brought Nathan to full alert. He smiled, knowing exactly what was going on.
“You’re going to have to push back from the table, fat boy.”
Isaac’s advice brought a low growl from Aron. “Okay, who’s the wise guy?”
By this time, Nathan was on his feet. He didn’t want to miss a moment. Just as he’d envisioned, Aron was wearing the clothes he’d brought and switched out for his. Normally, the big McCoy cut an imposing figure. Oh, he was still intimidating – but no one could look at him for more than a second or two without laughing.
“All right. Which one of you clowns is responsible for this travesty?”
Nathan pressed his lips together, taking a moment to appreciate the comedic sight of his older brother wearing jeans that wouldn’t button and a shirt that fit so tight there were scallops of skin showing between the buttons. Even the cowboy hat on his head was two sizes too small.
“You shouldn’t hold us responsible for your overindulgence. I’ve been telling you to cut back.” Joseph was trying not to laugh, but it was a losing battle.
If possible, Aron seemed to swell even larger. His ire was growing. “I’m gonna count to three and somebody better confess.”
“Maybe you should be counting calories instead.” This sage advice came from Jacob, causing all the other brothers to collapse in a fit of laughter.
Aron glared at Jacob. “Et tu brute?”
“Yep, all those Caesar salads did you in.” Noah added with a shake of his head.
“Where are my clothes?” Aron looked around at his brothers. “And which one of you am I taking to the woodshed?”
“Not me.” Joseph held up both hands.
Isaac crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. “I don’t think there’s any question, do you?” He turned to look straight at Nathan.
“Right.” Noah threw the remainder of his coffee in the fire. “We all know who’s become the family practical joker. What do you have to say for yourself Nathan?”
He didn’t try to deny anything. “I say it’s all in fun.” Pointing to Aron, he shrugged his shoulders. “A little harmless fun.”
“It is funny,” Jacob agreed. “No harm done.” He slapped Nathan on the shoulder. “Let’s get ready for the day. I have big plans.”
“Nobody’s going anywhere until I get my clothes,” Aron growled. “Now, bud!”
“Sure. Sure.” He left the group to go insi
de. After visiting the restroom, he went to locate Aron’s original clothing. When he turned around, his brother was waiting with hands outstretched. “No hard feelings?”
“No hard feelings.” Aron took off the small hat and replaced it with the one that fit. “All I want to know is where is this stuff coming from? All of these pranks and punks, this isn’t you.”
“Of course it’s me.”
“No,” Aron disagreed. “You’ve changed in the last year. You’re closed off and you use these lame jokes to take the place of any meaningful exchange between us. All of us. What’s going on?”
Hearing his elder brother’s take on his role in the family dynamic hit Nathan like a brickbat between the eyes. Was this true? For the next couple of heartbeats, he did some self-analyzing. Hell, maybe he was right. “I don’t know.” He moved a step or two away from Aron. “I don’t know.”
“Well…” He gestured at the gaping shirt and too tight jeans. “I enjoy a good joke as much as the next guy – but I’d much rather connect with you on a real level. Is there something wrong? Are you hiding something from me?”
“Oh, you’re one to talk,” Nathan countered, feeling somewhat cornered. “You’re hiding something from all of us. I can feel it. I can sense it. I can see it on your face.” He was surprised to see his brother’s countenance fall.
“This isn’t about me, this is about you.” Aron’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly.
“Like you said, Aron. This is about all of us. A family.” As he spoke, he could feel his brother’s emotions rising to a fever pitch. “What’s wrong?” No sooner had he asked the question – that he knew. Without a doubt – he knew. “It’s Libby, isn’t it?”
Aron wheeled around and slammed his fist into the wall. Since the building material was solid wood logs, he grabbed the injured hand in the other one. “Shut up. Just shut up.”
