Tumbleweed

by Heather Huffman

  “You guys really are out of money, aren't you?” I handed him a cup of my specialty and plopped down into one of the easy chairs in his office.

  “You noticed?” He grinned at me. “And it's not me who's out of money. It's Jim. I'm actually pretty wisely diversified.”

  “Good for you. Want a cookie?” I made a face at him.

  “You made cookies?”

  “It's a figure of speech; don't get your hopes up.” I rolled my eyes. “Should we talk about what you want me to do about the lack of funding?”

  “Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” He sighed deeply.

  “You know I've moved the books onto a computer system. It's enabled me to forecast a few different scenarios. I've also done some research on the markets, where they seem to be headed. I think we should geld the stallion and keep only a few mares. Let's not scramble to sell so they wind up with traders or anything, but really search for good homes. They're classy girls; we can sell them in the upscale market if we work at it. We install a few cattle chutes and change some of the basic structures. If we move, we can be ready for the cattle auctions in the spring. I think there's something for us in running cattle. We're certainly one of the last large acreage farms in the area. We have a shot anyway. Oh, and I want to talk to the electric co-op. I'd like them to do a walk-through with us and see what we'd need to start using some wind and solar power. We can cut our electric costs by 80% or more if we start using some alternate forms of energy,” I finished and waited expectantly for his response.

  “I've been kind of checking into this whole DNA thing that seems to be emerging in the cattle markets. I'm all for the place ‘going green’ – provided you can get me a cost-savings analysis on that,” Ethan nodded approvingly. “Not sure the stallion would appreciate being gelded. He could be sold, you know.”

  “True, but is it right to encourage active breeding in such a tight market?”

  “But have you seen him? He's a magnificent horse.”

  “He'll be a slightly less magnificent gelding too.” I shrugged.

  “You're awfully blasé about it. The market's going to rebound eventually, and it's so much harder on a horse to geld him when he's fully grown.”

  “Say some. Is it harder than being eaten?”

  “Fine, we'll geld the stallion,” he sighed again.

  “It's your horse.” I took a sip of my coffee.

  “Actually, he's Jim's.”

  “You know what I mean.” The man could be exasperating sometimes.

  “Do you have a formal presentation ready for Jim?”

  “I wanted your input first. I was hired to save the farm's finances. Not dismantle the place. I just don't see another way, Ethan.”

  “Me either. Why do you think I was looking into DNA testing in cattle?”

  “I'll get the report ready and have it on your desk by the end of the week,” I promised.

  “I think it's time to start ground work with Tumbleweed. He needs to be halter trained and taught some basic commands on a lunge line. I prefer to teach a horse everything it needs to know long before anyone tries to climb on its back,” Ethan switched gears. “Do you think Aaron would like to help me some?”

  “He'd love it. Are you sure?”

  “Cheyenne says he's a natural in the saddle.” Ethan nodded and I couldn't help beaming with pride. “She thinks he'll be one of the good ones if he sticks with it.”

  “He certainly wants to be.”

  “He works hard and has the knack. He'll do it,” Ethan said with complete assurance.

  “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.” I avoided his eyes, unsure why I'd blurted that out, before standing to stretch a kink out of my back.

  “It's the truth. Hey, where are you going? I'm not done with you yet.”

  “Oh really?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “Do I want to know?”

  “If we are going to sell those mares, we're going to want to do some work with them. They're a little rusty on their manners since they've been busy having babies.”

  “True.”

  “You wanna work with one or two?”

  “Me?” I choked on my French vanilla concoction.

  “Is there a reason I shouldn't let you around my girls?” A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth.

  “No, no, I'd love to help. Thank you.”

  “Thank you.” And just like that I was dismissed. I wandered back to my office, feeling a little dazed.

  A whole lifetime of loving horses, and I'd never really had the chance to ride them. Oh, there'd been a trail ride here and there, but all of the brilliant horse-knowledge I had passed on to Aaron had come from books. I wasn't sure I wanted him to know he was a better rider than I was by now. And, like a crazy person, I had just agreed to hop on the back of horses that hadn't seen a rider in ages. As if on cue the phone rang.

  “Hi Jonathan.” I sank into my chair and sighed. My older brother was calling to be nice. He was calling to make small talk. He was calling to see if I had come to my senses yet. Somewhere in the back of my perception, I could hear Ethan's truck rumble to life and my heart sank; the chances of him coming to save me just got slimmer. At this point, my best plan of attack was to listen with one ear while putting together my report and occasionally chiming in with “uh-huh.”

  “You aren't listening to me,” Jonathan accused.

  “Of course I am.” I flat out lied.

  “Sure.” He didn't sound convinced. “What are you really doing right now?”

  Taking a chance, I took a deep breath and filled him in on the project I'd just undertaken.

  “That's going to be a lot of work.” Jonathan let out a low whistle.

  “Really? Gee, I was thinking that it would be a breeze.”

  “You are such a brat,” he accused. “If you would let me finish, I was going to say it sounds like solid business sense. Good luck with your proposal.”

  “Oh, well thank you then.” I was a little taken aback.

  “Are you coming back for Thanksgiving?” He changed topics.

  “Oh wow, is it time to start thinking about that already?” Where were the days going? “I don't know if I can afford to drive up now if we want to be there for Christmas.”

  “I'll let you be the one to tell your sisters that.”

  “Sure you don't want to do that for me?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  “Hailey, come here!” Ethan bellowed for me, which was completely unlike him.

  “Oooh, I'd better go Jonathan. Something must be going on out there. Have a great day and thanks for calling. Love you.” I hung up the phone and dashed outside to find Ethan half-in, half-out of his truck.

  “I found him beside the road. Someone must've dropped them off.” Ethan produced a red and white animal that vaguely resembled a dog. “He was sitting by what used to be his buddy.”

  “Used to be?” I wasn't sure I wanted him to clarify that.

  “The other dog had been hit by a car. I couldn't just leave him sitting there. Not sure we can keep him here; I don't have time to take care of him, and he's in no shape to run with the other dogs.”

  “We'll take him in,” my mouth volunteered before my brain had time to process. “At least until he's healed up a little.” I examined the wounds on the dog's neck. He'd been tied with a collar that was too small in his recent past. There were a few other cuts and scrapes that said his journey thus far hadn't been an easy one. Still, he licked my face with gratitude, as if he somehow understood he was safe, and I decided it was worth whatever headache I had just brought upon myself.

  “He's a pog,” I decided.

  “Excuse me?”

  “He looks like he's half-pig, half-dog… a pog,” I held the animal's head in my hands and examined his face. He had very pig-like ears with a bulldog underbite, small nose and wide mouth. The effect was an animal so ugly it was cute.

  Ethan chuckled at my description, but he couldn't deny it. He set the pog on the ground, and the
animal instantly started bounding around in Pepé Le Pew fashion, trying to get one of us to play with him. He had a very bulldog build and a docked tail, but with slightly longer legs – again, very reminiscent of a pig. He was absolutely ridiculous-looking and I couldn't wait to show Aaron. Ethan and I stood at his truck for a while, wondering what exactly had crossed with what to create an animal like that.

  Eventually Ethan had to go back to work. I did too, but first I wanted to take care of the pog's wounds and show him to Aaron, who would be getting off the bus any time now.

  I bathed him and cleaned his scratches and even found one of Blue's old collars to put around his neck. Aaron came bursting through the door about the time I finished. I could tell by the look on his face Ethan had already spilled the beans. He had the look of a boy who wanted to see his new dog.

  “That's hilarious.” Aaron dropped his backpack and made a beeline for the animal.

  “I said the same thing the first time I saw you.” I ruffled his hair.

  “Very funny.” He playfully shoved me away.

  “We could name him Lucky. In memory, we could name his friend Not-so,” I suggested.

  “Oh, that's original.” Aaron rolled his eyes at me. “How about Rover?”

  “Much better.” I nodded sagely, refusing to succumb to the urge to chuckle. “Rover it is.”

  And just like that, our little family grew. Turns out Rover was a gigantic pain in the behind, but he was ridiculously cute and eternally grateful, so I found myself forgiving him a lot.

  He loved to sneak up behind me while I was folding laundry to steal a sock or pair of underwear. Usually it was amusing and only mildly frustrating. That is, until he took off with my “too hot to handle” panties and tore through the yard with them. The look on Ethan's face when he retrieved them was almost worth my mortification.

  Then came the day that I was hanging laundry on the line and heard a shudder-inducing, inhuman scream coming from the other side of the lawn. I dropped what I was doing to sprint in that direction as fast as my out-of-shape body could go. The days of eighth grade track seemed really distant at that moment.

  What I found stopped me short and I stood with my head cocked, not quite sure how to proceed. Rover's behind was in the air, his face pressed low to the ground, held to some rolled up chicken wire by what appeared to be a squirrel stuck in the meshing. The beast had its teeth latched onto the dog's nose and didn't seem any-too-ready to let go.

  A nearby squirrel chattered angrily while Blue jumped back and forth, trying to get to the squirrel in the chicken wire without getting his buddy in the process. Rover continued to scream pitifully. I grabbed the first thing I could get my hands on, a stick, and whapped the furry little monster square on the head. It released Rover and he jumped free, his nose bleeding.

  Now I had a problem. The squirrel was still alive. I dutifully went to find a shovel to finish the inevitable but when it came right down to it, I just couldn't do it. Partially because I had never taken a life before and didn't seem to be capable of it now; partially because the victim's stupid, chattering squirrel friend was a little scary. I could imagine it leaping on my head if I got any closer.

  I'd seen Chevy Chase's Christmas Vacation. Flying squirrel to the face did not look fun. My solution presented itself when Ethan's truck appeared. I nearly bowled him over in my exuberance.

  “You look happy to see me.” He grinned and waved hello.

  “Ethan, I need you.” I breathlessly tugged at his hand.

  “I must admit I'm flattered, darlin' but Jim'd have both our jobs if he caught us.”

  “You know that's not what I meant,” I continued to tug him along. “Rover was attacked by a squirrel, and I need to whap it in the head with a shovel, but I just can't seem to bring myself to do it, and do you really think Jim would fire us?”

  “That's what he said when I first brought you on.” He shrugged, and then furrowed his brow. “Did you just say Rover was attacked by a squirrel?”

  “Yeah, apparently when you warned me about the mountain lions you neglected to tell me that the squirrels around here are vicious,” I accused.

  “You know, I think this just might be the first squirrel attack we've had in these parts. I'll be sure to add it to the list of dangers,” he promised.

  “Here. Here it is. The poor thing is hurt, but I don't know what to do with him.” We came to a stop at the scene of the crime, and I relayed the events of the afternoon to him. To his credit, he waited until I was finished to laugh. Even better, he took care of the squirrel issue for me while I tended to Rover's nose. Rover'd had his rabies shot, and the wound didn't seem to need stitches, so there was nothing really for me to do but keep it clean so infection wouldn't break out.

  It wasn't until all of the hub-bub had settled down, and after I had fed Aaron and helped him with his homework, that the thought crossed my mind – why had Jim warned Ethan not to become involved with me when I first came on board? I poured myself a glass of wine and sat on my front porch.

  The more I thought about it, the more it bothered me that the thought had not occurred to me. Ethan was a good looking man, nice to my son, and one of the few people in this world who seemed to appreciate me just the way I was. He was fun to be around. Why didn't I have a crush on him? Did my girl parts still work? Was there an expiration date on my libido or some “use it or lose it” policy I had not been aware of? How long had it been since I'd thought twice about a guy? Suddenly I couldn't remember. Odd.

  I set my wine glass aside and called out to Aaron so he would know where I was, then ambled towards the stables. Tomorrow looked to be one of the few remaining pretty days, and I wanted to try to get a ride in. I'd been grooming and doing ground work with two of the mares to get to know them. They were behaving beautifully with me on the ground; it was time to bite the bullet and hop on a horse's back.

  Somehow my planned quiet ride had turned into an entire group of people and an all-day event, so I wanted to familiarize myself with the tack in hopes of looking a little less ridiculous the next day when I put it on the animal for the first time in my life. I was used to other people tacking them for me, and bridles could be trickier to put on a horse than one might realize, after all. Of course I nearly ran right over Ethan in the tack room.

  “Hey.” He looked up at me and grinned. He smiled a lot; it was part of his charm.

  “Hey,” I tried to sound nonchalant but backed away nonetheless. The room felt very small with him in it. There was a loud crash and a thud as I stumbled over a saddle stand, knocking the two thousand dollar saddle it held to the floor.

  “Whatchya doin'?” He arched an eyebrow.

  “Figuring out the tack without an audience,” I blurted out as I hurried to right the saddle stand. “I haven't ridden a horse in ages, and even then someone saddled it, and I was more passive cargo than a rider.”

  “Ah.” He nodded as if considering what I had said. More likely, he was trying once again to not laugh at me.

  “I didn't realize you'd be here.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “It is if I want to figure this out without an audience.”

  “Should I go?” he offered.

  “Don't worry about it. I've already blown not looking like an idiot. You might as well stay.”

  “I could teach you if you'd like.” His voice rumbled low in the stillness of the room. I nodded, the words somehow gone.

  “You want to start on Lady or Jezebel?” He rose from his chair and moved towards me.

  “Somehow I think Jezebel and I might get along better.”

  “Really now? Kindred spirits are you?” He tugged at my ponytail playfully.

  “I meant because we've been doing well with ground work.” I blushed furiously after I caught his drift. Now that I'd caught on to the fact that he was a man, I seemed to have a one-track mind.

  “Come on then, Jezebel it is.” He handed me a saddle, blanket, and bridle and grabbed some tack for hi
mself. I followed him though the stable, a little in awe of the fact that I was actually getting to ride a horse. Now. Anytime I was near someone who knew what they were doing around horses, I watched them as intently and discreetly as possible to learn all I could.

  So I was actually pretty confident through the process all the way to the point where I needed to clean her hooves. That one was trickier than it looked and her hoof was so heavy, it was a struggle to hold it in one hand. I sincerely hoped my assurance to Aaron that it would get easier with time was true. Once I struck what I thought was an okay position, it hit me that I had no clue just what I was supposed to be cleaning out of her foot and I didn't want to hurt her with my ineptitude.

  Ethan must have picked up on my quandary because he came and knelt beside me, placing his hand over mine and guiding my movements as he explained just what and how to scrape out the horse's hoof. I swallowed hard and did my best to concentrate on the task at hand.

  “Dig in hard here; move up with a clean steady stroke…. Now back down here.” The cadence emerged, with him kneeling beside me at each leg and taking me through the process again, his breath soft and warm on my neck as he leaned over me. I was a nervous wreck by the fourth hoof.

  It was amazing to me that I could stand when we were done. Even more amazing, I didn't need all that much help as I finished the process of tacking up the horse. Some, but not too much.

  I couldn't shake the warmth that still radiated through me from his touch. Every time Ethan came to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder to check a cinch or adjust a stirrup, the warmth flared anew. Somehow I made it all the way through the process, and I found myself on the back of a big, beautiful gray mare.

  The night was crisp and cool. The stars were brilliant. They never ceased to amaze me. Surely they weren't the same stars I had gazed upon back in the city. Riding alongside Ethan down the little dirt lane, my smile must have been nearly as brilliant as the stars. I was riding a horse, and pretty darn well, if I did say so myself.

  “Well lookee there, you're a natural,” he declared.

  “I am.” I couldn't help being a little surprised. “But I don't remember it being this bumpy.”