A Wife in Wyoming (13 page)

The grumbling began on two fronts, as Lizzie and Lena complained about doing dishes while Marcos complained about having to do anything at all. Thomas and Justino stayed in their seats, pushing their dishes down the table toward Nate, who walked them over to the sink. Caroline took on the girls, steering Lizzie and Lena to their tasks. That left Ford to handle the guys. Again.

He put one hand on Thomas's shoulder and one on Justino's. “Outside,” he said. “That's where the horses are.” He went to confront Marcos, who had retreated to the sofa. “Spending the day in bed?”

The boy grinned. “Sounds sweet, huh? I could get into that.” He started to swing his feet up to lie down. But Ford grabbed his ankles

“Hey! Let go!”

Ford dropped his feet on the floor. “We've got things to do, Marcos. Outside.”

“Keep your hands off me.” Flushed and breathing hard, Marcos came to his feet with just inches between his face and Ford's. “You ain't my old man.”

The difference in their heights was about six inches, which made the challenge a little ridiculous. But Ford didn't laugh. “You'd be sorry if I was. Now get outside.”

Marcos did his best to be intimidating. The fierce stare, the puffed chest and clenched fists might have worked with other kids, maybe with teachers.

Ford spun on his heel and walked away, leaving the bunkhouse. He found Thomas and Justino kicking rocks around in the road as they headed to the barn and watched them for about a minute...until Marcos came out of the building.

“Great.” Ford nodded but didn't wait for an explanation or apology. “Let's go gather the horses.”

As they approached the barn, Thomas said, “We gotta go catch all those horses? Man, I can't see that happening.”

“It's not as hard as you might imagine.” Ford led them through the barn and out into the corral. “First, check to be sure the gate by the barn is closed. Make certain the doors to the barn are fastened, too. Now, follow me.”

He led them to the gate between the corral and the pasture, opened it and swung it wide, against the fence. “What we want to do is drive the horses toward this end of the pasture and into the corral through this gate.”

Justino rubbed his hand over his head. “How?”

“Walk beyond them, and then come back toward this end. You can wave your arms, say ‘Shoo' or ‘Go on,' something to get them moving one way or the other. Your job, once they're moving, is to keep them going this way and to make sure they don't go farther out. Got it?”

“Not really.” Thomas stood with his hands on his hips. “I don't understand why they'd move when they got all the grass they can eat out there.”

“You'll figure it out.” Ford went through the gate. “Try just walking up to your horse. Or any horse. See what happens.”

He watched from a distance as the boys moved toward the nearest animals. Predictably, when each boy got within a certain distance, the horse would shift to a different patch of grass. After three such encounters, Marcos glanced around.

“It keeps moving away. This is stupid.”

“Where are you supposed to go?”

“Beyond,” Thomas said. “You mean we can get them to move away from us but toward the pen?”

“That's the plan.”

Thomas gazed toward the more distant horses. “They're a long way off.”

“Better get walking.”

He rolled his eyes. “Man.” But he headed toward the outliers. After a minute, Justino followed.

“Let's get to work, Marcos. You can move these three.”

Marcos's first efforts weren't impressive, but as he figured out the method, his enthusiasm increased. The gamelike aspects of the process became apparent, and the exercise gave him a chance to stretch and run. Farther out, Thomas and Justino were having pretty good luck heading in the other members of the herd, and were clearly enjoying themselves doing it.

Maybe they weren't the fastest crew when it came to bringing in a string of horses, but Ford considered the activity a definite success.

“Great job, guys,” he told them when the gate was closed and the horses were milling around the corral. “Let's go meet Caroline and report on the success you've already had this morning.”

He had to smile at the cocky aspect to all three boys' walks as they went through the barn. But his own pleasure in their accomplishment was...disturbing. He had opposed this project. Getting attached to these kids—as troublesome as they were—would not be a smart idea.

Then again, how attached could he get in two weeks? He still couldn't imagine this situation lasting any longer, no matter how hard Caroline tried.

Out in front of the barn, Garrett was just pulling up in his truck, with a horse trailer attached. “We have a visitor,” he announced, going around to open the rear door of the trailer. “Give me just a minute to get him out.”

The kids were amazingly quiet as they waited, which telegraphed more interest in the process than they probably would have wanted anyone to realize. Caroline held the trailer door open, and glanced at them over her shoulder. “This is awesome.”

Ford had seen his share of horses, large and small. But as Garrett led this one out of the trailer, he decided it just might be the cutest pony he'd ever laid eyes on. Mostly brown but with a black mane and lots of flashy white markings, he was a kind-looking horse with dark eyes and nothing at all about him to make anyone nervous. Even Lizzie.

“This is Major,” Garrett announced. “We borrowed him from some neighbors to help you guys get accustomed to horses.”

Becky and Lena approached right away, with Justino following. The girls stroked the glossy brown neck and face, talking to the pony as if he was a little kid. Thomas and Marcos moved closer, too, because the animal was just too appealing to ignore. Nate stood at the pony's middle, resting a hand on his ribs and appearing content, if not actually happy. The pony didn't seem bothered by all the people standing around and calmly accepted their attention.

“Hey, Lizzie,” Becky called, “come check him out. He's really nice.”

Lizzie stood huddled into herself, arms wrapped around her waist, her face white and drawn. Tension radiated from her body, and Ford thought she might bolt for the cabin at any second.

But she surprised him and stepped forward, moving toward the pony.

Size really did matter, Ford decided. Major was a good six inches shorter than Sundance, the chestnut Lizzie had worked with yesterday. And where Sundance held her head up high, even when relaxed, Major tended to keep his head low, which made him seem even smaller. As Lizzie got closer, she relaxed her arms, letting her hands fall to her sides. Becky moved away so her friend could reach the pony directly. Everybody seemed to be holding their breath as Lizzie put her fingers on Major's cheek.

“Hey, boy,” she said. “Aren't you sweet?”

* * *

B
Y
LUNCH
C
AROLINE
felt totally justified to be optimistic about the kids and their progress. Lizzie's success with Major had encouraged all of them to develop a better relationship with their horses, and the morning had gone by without any tantrums from teenagers or animals. As a surprise, Dylan drove into town and returned with a stack of pizzas for lunch, which earned him all-around appreciation. After an hour of free time, everybody met at the corral for the afternoon's project—saddling a horse.

“Each horse has its own saddle,” Ford explained, “because they all have different shapes, and the saddle must fit really well for the horse to be able to work.” They were in the tack room of the barn, where most of the saddles were stored. “We'll make sure your saddle fits you pretty well, too. The stirrups—” he held one up, just in case somebody was confused “—get longer or shorter, depending on how long your legs are.”

“We have to saddle our own horse?” Lena frowned.

“You'll get as much help as you need,” Caroline said. “But the fact is, you should be sure the saddle is put on right, as a matter of safety. And the best way to confirm that is to do it yourself.”

“I don't know nothin' about saddles. Leave it to me, I fall off.” Marcos pretended he was tipping sideways off a horse, which made most of the kids laugh, and they started to imitate him.

Ford gave them a chance to fool around before continuing. “I've had that happen to me. One minute I'm sitting up tall, then the saddle starts sliding around till I'm pretty much hanging upside down. The horse is running off, and I'm getting hit in the face with grass.”

“How old were you?” Thomas asked.

“About your age. We'd just started working here. Mr. MacPherson assumed we could ride, and I didn't want to confess the truth. I looked like an idiot.”

He'd caught their attention again, giving them a story they could relate to. Caroline stood quiet as they asked Ford about his experience, silently reveling in the joy of having provided these at-risk kids with such a great role model.

And he'll make a great parent one day
, she caught herself thinking.
Just not with me.

She cleared her mind and then cleared her throat to get everybody's attention. “Okay, we'll take each one of you individually to help you put the saddle on your horse. Ford and Nate, Garrett and Becky, Dylan and Justino. I'll work with Lena. Let's go. The others can hang out on the couch for a while.”

The first hurdle was, of course, just lifting the saddle to carry it outside. None of the kids was prepared for the sheer weight of that much leather and wood. Justino managed to handle his own, but the girls couldn't. And Nate was struggling until Ford took over.

After putting on a saddle blanket, the real challenge became getting the saddle itself onto the horse's back, which was at shoulder height or higher for most of them.

“More cowboy weight lifting,” Justino muttered, trying to throw the heavy saddle onto his horse and failing. “This is stupid.”

Finally, with grown-up help, seven saddles were placed, the girths tightened and a bridle put on each horse. The adults would probably have to do most of the saddling this summer, as the kids just wouldn't develop enough muscle. But at least they'd be aware of what to do.

The bridles came off, the girths were undone, the saddle removed and replaced in the tack room. By that point the kids were sweaty, dusty and tired.

“I'm goin' home,” Marcos said. “This is about as fun as gettin' detention. Hell, I'd rather get detention. Least it's air-conditioned.”

“I'm with you, man.” Thomas pulled his damp shirt away from his chest. “This sucks.”

Caroline tried to take the grumbling in stride. “It will get easier. Give your horse a good brushing, then we'll turn them out and you can chill before dinner. We won't even make you move hay.” She grinned at them but got only glares in response.

“More dirt.” Justino coughed. “I never knew horses were this dirty.” He spit into the dust at his feet. “I want a shower.”

The girls complained less, but their silence was as much an indication of discontent as the boys' words. While Ford sent the herd of horses through the pasture gate, the seven bedraggled teens shuffled through to the front of the barn and divided toward their separate houses. Even Lena and Justino didn't linger.

“We pushed them pretty hard,” Garrett said, frowning with worry. “Maybe we should slow down.”

Dylan put his head down on a bale of hay. “We pushed
me
pretty hard. I'm beat.”

“We're not done,” Ford said as he joined them. “We're going to move the grill up so the guys can cook burgers for dinner. I can't lift it alone. Come on, Dylan. They'll be wanting to eat soon.”

Garrett waved them on. “I'll supervise the cooking.” He glanced at Caroline. “You okay?”

Caroline jumped. “What? Oh, sure.” She'd been watching Ford walk away, admiring his clean stride and narrow hips. “I was thinking about tomorrow's riding lesson.”

“Thinking about my brother is closer to the truth.” He stared her down. “Right?”

“Um...” She wasn't ready to admit such a thing to one of Ford's brothers. Especially not to Garrett, the minister.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “I'm not blind, and you're exceptionally easy to read. You and Ford remind me of peacocks, circling around each other in a mating dance.”

“Garrett! We do not.”

“I don't object, you understand. Ford deserves a very special woman, and you definitely fit that description. You could be really happy together.”

“But...”

“But I see you with these kids, with women like Susannah Bradley who need your support and refuge, and I want to keep you in Bisons Creek.” He shrugged. “Ford will take you to San Francisco. And sure, there are a host of people there who could use your help just as much as we do, if not more.” His cheeks reddened. “I'm being selfish, I guess. I want you here, with me. As a friend and a colleague.”

“Oh, Garrett.” On impulse, Caroline put her arms around his shoulders and gave him a hard hug. “You're so sweet. Believe me, I have no plans to leave. This is my home, and these are the people I...well, I feel called to work with.” Drawing away, she kissed his cheek. “I promise.”

“Glad to hear that.” Garrett's worried expression evaporated. “I'll rest better knowing we can count on you for the long run.” He thought for a second. “And who can tell? Maybe you'll be the reason Ford comes home.”

“I don't—”

Before she could finish her protest, brakes squealed sharply nearby. Caroline jerked around to see a truck parked near the front of the bunkhouse.

Dylan got out of the passenger seat and looked back inside. “You must not drive much, bro,” he said loudly, “the way you're using the brakes. Out here, we ease to a stop.” At the rear of the truck, he let down the tailgate in front of the big gas grill in the bed. “Especially with kids running around.”