Fools in Paradise
Mark Randall
Fools in Paradise
Chapter 1
Suzy and I had been up on the mountain for a year. Well, at least the winter. It was when we started planning our resupply run when a problem raised its head. Suzy needed a horse.
We had spent the winter with her on Margarite and me riding Jughead, which had been satisfactory with the small amount of riding we did during snow season. But now we were going to need Jughead in his primary job as the pack mule.
I had checked around Elk City, and the pickings were mighty slim. So, before we went any further, we decided it was time for a shopping trip. We could combine our resupply chores with a horse hunt.
The first stop was Boise. I wanted to see Pete and make sure he was doing alright. Other than an added 10 pounds, he seemed to be happy. I know the three crumb crunchers crawling all over him were happier than puppies in a ball pit.
Pete didn’t know of any ‘suitable’ horses in the area, but he suggested we head up to the Bar T and talk to the new boss. I thought it over for a bit and decided that would be our next stop.
As we drove up the valley road, I was impressed. The front fence line had been replaced, and new wire put in. What stock I could see looked fat, dumb, and happy. Just like I wanted cattle to be. When I got up the ranch house, I was again impressed. It looked new. A young kid, 15 or 16, came running up.
He was all smiles, “Can I help you, folks?”
“Well, I’m looking for Agnes, the camp cook. She’ll know who I am.”
“Oh, I think I recognize you. You’re Matt Reynolds, both Agnes and Pete have talked about you. Hang on while I let Agnes know you’re here.” before I could say anything, the kid took off running towards the mess hall.
This kid was high speed and low drag.
By the time I had handed Suzy out of the truck, I heard a scream, “Matt, Suzy. It’s about damn time you got here.” Agnes ran up, hugs, and kisses shared all the way around.
“Carl,“ Agnes turned to the kid, “Go get your mom and dad. I know they’ll want to meet our guests.”
“On the way, Agnes. Dad’s up on the north range. Can I use the quad to go get him?” I could see that this kid had been waiting for any excuse to use ‘the quad.’ And I had no idea what it was.
“Ask your momma, Carl. You remember what happened the last time?”
“I’ll ask, but I know she’ll say yes. That wreck was Donny’s fault. He’s still on restriction.”
“Well, you be sure to ask. I don’t want to find out you had lied to me.”
“You got it, Agnes.” this was as the kid took off in another burst of energy that I hadn’t had in 30 years.
Halfway back to the house, he was intercepted by a blond woman that looked to be in her mid to late 30’s. Slim and easy on the eyes. They talked for a minute, and the kid continued on an altered course towards the barn.
As the woman walked up, she introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Marsha Taggart. And you are the infamous Matt Reynolds.”
Because she had a smile on her face, I felt somewhat safe. I reached out my hand to shake and had my hand firmly gripped. “Ms. Taggart, a pleasure to meet you. This is Suzy Williams.” I indicated Suzy, who, for some reason, had been hanging back.
“Suzy, a pleasure to meet you.” she held her arms out, and in a typical female fashion, they started hugging. Almost immediately, Agnes joined in, and a female bonding moment happened. From what I understand, three women, unknown to each other, can break speed records becoming friends. I didn’t have a timer, but it was obvious that these 3 were now fast and permanent friends.
We were interrupted by Carl tearing out of the barn on, what I assume, was a quad. I’m sure that you know what a quad is, but I was somewhat clueless. I had seen pretty much every form of mechanical propulsion, including some oddball stuff when I was in the desert with uncle sam. This thing looked like the dune buggies that I had seen the special forces people using. But without the machine guns, grenade launchers and radio antennas.
Carl came tearing out of that barn-like the hounds of hell were after him. That is until he saw that universal stop sign all males are well aware of. Mom, standing there with her fists on her hips. Carl immediately slowed down and proceeded on his mission at a mom-approved speed.
“I don’t know which is worse, the boys or the girls. It seems like all of them are out to turn my hair grey.”
“How many kids do you have?” Suzy asked
“Four, two boys and two girls. They’re on summer break right now, school starts in 3 weeks, thank god. Of course, the baby isn’t all that much trouble. And her big sister, Amber, has taken on a lot of those chores. The boys, well, Carl is the older boy, and his younger brother Donny adores him. But let’s get out of this heat. Agnes, could you bring us some lemonade to the main house. I’m sure that we could all use something cool. Don’t forget Bruce either. He’ll be especially thirsty.”
As we walked up to the main house, I could see that it had been freshly painted, and someone, Marsha obviously, had added some welcome flowers and plants. Before, when I was a resident, Agnes was the only female on the property. And all that male atmosphere was reflected in the landscaping. Or lack of I should say. I could rightly say that the place was significantly improved with the help of Ms. Taggart’s hand.
Stepping up on the porch, I noticed that this had also seen improvement. The one thing that I had always felt was an architectural requirement for a ranch house, was a wraparound porch. Something that could seat a boy and girl sparking in the glider, up to the family gathering for summer get-togethers. This one fit my bill, and then some. It went around three sides of the house. And maybe the back, which I couldn’t see. Ten feet wide, with a waist-high railing. Substantial enough for a 300-pound cowboy to park his butt and enjoy those gentle country breezes.
Ms. Taggart directed us to a wicker patio set. As we were seated, Agnes joined us with two large frosted pitchers and a half dozen glasses. She set the platter on the table, and while she seated herself, Ms. Taggart started serving.
As she handed me my glass, she said, “Let’s get this straight right now, Matt. I can see in your eyes. You keep thinking of me as Ms. Taggart.” before I could say anything, she continued. “To you, and Suzy, I am Marsha. And my husband is Bruce. We already consider you as family, and I won’t accept anything less. If you are willing, both my husband and I would be honored to have you include us in your family.”
I had to take a moment. Glancing over to Suzy, she was smiling at me, and I assumed this was what she wanted. “Marsha, I would be honored by you and your husband’s friendship. I don’t quite know what else to say, other than thank you.”
At that moment, a rider came charging up on a big Dunn stud. He pulled up just short of the porch and came to a sliding stop. As the dust settled, he sat there. He had a large grin on his face. “The brat was right. You do look like Pete described you.” turning to his wife, “How bout it sweetie pie. Should we sell the kids to them? I’ll bet we could get twice what they're worth and splurge at dairy queen. How about it, 2 Oreo blizzards and a night in Cody?”
“Bruce, behave yourself. Get down off of that nag and say hello.”
“Nag? Why I’ll have you know that if it wasn’t for an unfortunate family line, kind of like my own. This beast would have three triple crowns and the national stud record.” as he was speaking, he swung off the horse and loosely wrapped the reins over the rail. Stepping up on the porch, I was definitely impressed. 6’3 250 pounds and, although I couldn’t see, I’d be willing to bet not an ounce of fat.
He reached out and shook my hand. Now, most big guys will, consciously or not, try to put the squeeze on you. His grip was firm, but not aggressive. “Matt, it’s a pleasure to meet you. If half of what Pete told us about you is true, you are twice over welcome to my home.”
He then turned to Suzy and gently took her hand in both of his. “Ms. Williams, I also want to welcome you to our home. I hope that you will consider it a refuge in times of trouble and danger. Woman,” turning to Marsha, “What in the hell is this lemonade bilge. The moment calls for booze, the stronger, the better.”
Before anything else could be said, a young lady, 16 or 17, and obviously Marsha’s daughter came out of the house. She had a platter with two bottles and a mason jar on it. “Daddy, quit yelling, you’re scaring the chickens again. It’ll be a week before they’re back on schedule.”
“Daughter Amber, you both honor and shame me. You bring the best hooch and then complain about the cholesterol bombs that your momma won’t let me have anyway. Matt, you see in front of you, two commercial distillery products and a little something I cook up myself. The mason jar has apple pie in it.”
Picking up the mason jar, he held it up to the light. It had a light Amber color to it. “Now Matt, I won’t require you or your lovely lady friend to imbibe. But I am honor-bound to limit you each to one shot only. This medicine is powerful juju. Any more than a shot has been known to cause socially inappropriate behavior and unexpected increases in the human population.” he unscrewed the lid and poured a shot. Holding it out to me, I took it and cautiously smelled it, and it did indeed smell just like an apple pie.
Suzy also took a shot, sniffing just as carefully.
I have run into some pretty potent homebrews in my life. In particular, when I was in Korea. In the Korea countryside, you needed to be very careful about what you ate and drank. The sanitary standards found in the United States were not observed in the off the beaten track areas of Korea. This included bottled drinks, and forget water that wasn’t in sealed bottles. Even the ice was suspect.
You would think that a sealed bottle of vodka or gin would be safe. Except what could and did happen was that the unscrupulous bar owner would drill a hole in the bottom of the bottle and drain out the alcohol. Replacing it with a locally made substitute. That substitute usually was not something you should be drinking.
And then there was the local brews. Some of those pop skulls were enhanced with toxic chemicals. One popular drink required you pour off the first inch of the bottle. To remove the formaldehyde used in the distilling process.
I didn’t have the same worries with Bruce’s apple pie. I smelled it anyway. And it did smell of apple pie. I glanced over to Suzy. She was watching me with a questioning eye. I took the shot by the reins and swallowed her down. It was smmooooth and tasted just like a slice of apple pie without the crust. Suzy could see my enjoyment and followed suit.
“Oh my gosh.“ she exclaimed, “That is good.”
Before either of us could ask for another, Bruce finished his and spoke up. “Ok, boys and girls, that’s it, no more booze for us. Amber, please remove temptation from our sight. If everybody behaves themselves,” he looked meaningly at Marsha, “I mean you, wife, we will continue the alcoholic binge later, after dinner.”
Turning to Agnes, “Agnes, my dear, do you have any special plans for the chuckwagon tonight? I was kind of hoping for a family BBQ out back by the fire pit?”
Agnes grinned at her boss. “I think we can handle a special tonight. We’ve got plenty of time to set up a whoop de doo.”
“Outstanding, now if you gentle folks will excuse me, I need to get cleaned up and into my good duds before we tuck into Agnes, and my dear wife’s,” he bent down and placed a very gentle kiss on Marsha’s forehead. “Culinary tour de force.”
As he stepped into the house, he yelled out, “Donny boy, one of your many labors awaits you at the hitch rail. I want the brute rubbed, scrubbed, curried, and fed. After you’re done, we’ll discuss your driver’s education schedule.” the screen door slammed shut.
Shortly after that, a young boy, 10 or 11 years old, came out of the house. He had one of the worst cases of hang dawg I’d ever seen.
“Donny,” Marsha softly spoke. The boy looked up, “Yes, momma?”
“Say hello to our guests, son.” The introductions and greetings were made. I kind of felt sorry for the kid. But sometimes it takes pain to learn a lesson. And pain can come in many forms.
Marsha spoke up after the introductions, “Ok, Donny. Your dad gave you your marching orders. Best get to them.”
The kid stepped off the porch and untied the Dunn. As he was leading the horse towards the barn, he was joined by his brother. Together they continued to the barn. Where their sister Amber joined them. All three joined in a group hug and then went into the barn.
Marsha missed none of this, and as the group disappeared, she whispered, “You there honey?” the screen door opened slightly. “Yes, dear. Kinda makes ya think we did a good job raising those hellions, doesn’t it?”
“Get cleaned up, husband. We’ve got guests, and you are doing the cooking tonight, right, Agnes?”
“Well, at least the meat. Ribs for the adults. Burgers and dogs for the kids. I’ve already got the veggies and salads done.”
Chapter 2
Dinner was a loud, boisterous, and a happy occasion. The working crew joined us. Five guys and what surprised me, a lady. She was about 26 or 27 and was physically able to do the job. Agnes told me later that she, Lois, had a hard time convincing everybody she could handle the job. But she had held her end up even when she was handed the shitty jobs that a cattle ranch can offer.
Both Suzy and I were introduced, and a couple of the old hands remembered me. Most of the evening was spent telling war stories and outright lies. Both of which were sworn to be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth (sort of).
While all of this was going on, the kids were being kids, making up some of the most outrageous games and scenarios. Most of which involved running, jumping, and yelling. When Donny discovered Shadow, I watched closely. I wasn’t quite sure how Shadow would react. It took about 2 seconds, and my fears were forgotten. They were best friends, and I realized that I had a new problem. How was I going to break it to the kid that Shadow was going to have to leave with me? This was going to require some thought. In the meantime, all of the kids were having a great time.
It’s confusing to me about the world today. You take a kid, park him in front of a tv or a video game, and he’s hypnotized. A zombie and as far as their parents are concerned, that seems to be okay. But with country kids, turn them loose in a pig sty, and they’ll have a gay old-time making mud pies and raising imaginary porkers. These kids were doing things that in the city would require years of psychological counseling and medication. In my opinion, most country kids are smarter, stronger, and more emotionally adjusted than their city cousins. But what do I know? I’m just a broken-down country bumpkin, one of the flyover people.
Around about 9 o’clock, things started settling down and breaking up. The kids were sent off to bed. Donny had to, reluctantly, abandon his new best friend. To both of their objections. The crew members also started drifting off to the bunkhouse. Morning comes early on a working ranch.
Marsha had joined the kids when they were sent off, and all that remained was Bruce, Suzy, and myself. Bruce reached into the cooler that had been sitting, unopened, under the picnic table, and brought out his mason jar of apple pie. “Just a nightcap, folks. Anything more and I’ll be sleeping on the couch.” he poured a shot for all three of us and sat back in his chair.
“Well, Matt, I guess we need to get down to brass tacks. When Pete called and said that you two were on the way, he also told me that you were looking for a good working horse for Suzy?”
“That’s right, Bruce. I’m sure Pete told you about where we live. We don’t have a road to the cabin, and I'd like to stay that way. We both value our privacy, and we figure the best way to keep it is for it to be as difficult as possible for the general public to come up. That means you either walk or ride.”
“Works for me, Matt. Although you will probably be pressured by the powers that be to change that, it’s amazing what happens when civilized people think someone is having a better time than they are.”
“Well, that’s a long way off, I hope.”
“So, tell me, Suzy, what kind of horse are you looking for?”
“Well, Bruce, basically a workhorse. I don’t want or need a dandy. No delicate Arabian used to stable life and a light load. Something with strong ankles to handle slippery ground and a sure foot at the run. Even-tempered and used to other horses. We also have a mule that is in the mix as well as Shadow.” she pointed to Shadow, who was curled up at my feet. At the mention of his name, he raised his head and looked at Suzy. Then he went back to his snooze. He had a busy day and needed his beauty sleep after all.
“I think we have a few that’ll fit your bill. I’ll have the guys bring them up tomorrow. If you see something you like, well, my pappy’s, pappy’s, pappy was known far and wide as the best horse trader in Texas. So, it’ll be buyer beware.”
After that, we finished our pie and headed to bed. I don’t know if Bruce spent the night on the couch. I know I didn’t.
Chapter 3
The next morning, we were awoken by what sounded like a freight train passing by. When I looked out the window, I could see that about 15 or 20 horses had just been herded into the corral on the far side of the barn. We had overslept. After getting dressed, we stepped out and were greeted by Bruce and his eldest son Carl.
“Good morning, folks,” Bruce said, “I see you survived the night. Would you like a bit of the hair of the dog? Or maybe a bit of breakfast?”
Suzy spoke up first, “Bruce, karma will get you about the booze. However, a piece of toast and tea will do me fine.”
“How about you Matt, I know that you’ve missed Agnes’s mealtime, but I’m sure Marsha’s got some leftover mush that the baby rejected?”
“Oh god,” I groaned, “A morning person. All I need is coffee, hot, black, and a lot of it.”
“Carl, you’ve got your orders, move er out boy. And make it a pot of coffee. I’ll be joining Matt.” turning to Suzy, he continued. “Well, Suzy, there’s your next horse. Just tell me which one.”
Suzy climbed up on the top rail and sat down. She was watching the horses as they circled the corral. I could see the gears turning in her head. It was kind of fun to watch.
Lois, the female hand, was herding the remuda around. Suzy called out and asked that a silver dappled pinto be brought around. I might have been mistaken, but it seemed like Bruce slightly shook his head.
The pinto was brought around. It was a beautiful horse. A definite show stopper. And it seemed to know it. Almost striking a pose when she got close. I was surprised when Suzy said, “Bruce, I thought I told you last night that I didn’t want any dandies. This little toy probably belongs to your daughter. Why don’t you cut out the fluff and show me the working stock?”
Laughing, Bruce told Lois to cut out the good stuff and let the rest back to graze.
Now we were left with six solid working plugs. Suzy called out, “Lois, that strawberry roan, bring him around, please.”
Lois seemed to have some trouble getting control of the roan. It seemed like he knew what Lois wanted, and he didn’t like that idea. Eventually, she got control of his hackamore and brought him over.
“Could you get a saddle and get a bridle on him. I’d like to see how he sits.”
“You sure about that lady? He’s barely saddle broke. You sure you can handle him?”
There was something about her tone that got everybody’s attention. I could see that Bruce was about to say something when I touched his arm and shook my head. I also knew that Suzy had heard what was said and the tone.
“That’s alright, Lois, I’ll handle it.” she jumped off the rail and proceeded to saddle and bridle the roan. While she was doing this, she asked to clear the corral. That left her, the roan, and Lois on her sorrel. Lois crowded the roan over to the fence. Bruce used the towel that was on the rail to blindfold the roan.
“Are you sure about this, Suzy?” Bruce asked. “You don’t need to prove anything.”
Lois couldn’t resist. “That’s right, lady. We sure wouldn’t want you to get hurt or anything.”
With Bruce glaring at Lois, Suzy quietly said: “Let him loose.”
The next 5 minutes or so were pure entertainment. That is if you are a rodeo fan. That roan whirled, bucked, straight-legged, hunched, and then started all over again in reverse. For us, on the sidelines, it was over fast. I’m sure that Suzy lived several lifetimes in those 5 minutes. But after all was said and done, that roan stood there without a tremble, and Suzy was still on board.
Suzy looked over to Bruce and said, “Is it ok if I take a little joy ride?”
“Yes, ma’am, you take as much time as you want.”
Suzy walked the roan over to the gate and leaned over to open it. After leaving the corral, she turned in the saddle and said, “Be a dear, Lois, and close that for me.” without waiting, she put her heel to him, and they took off.
As Suzy was riding off, Bruce spoke up. “Lois, a word please.” turning to me, he said, “A minor personnel problem has come up Matt. If you would like, I’m sure that Marsha has something in the kitchen that you’ll enjoy.”
As I was heading towards the house, I looked over my shoulder and watched as Bruce led Lois over to the tack shed.
After a hearty country breakfast, during which I learned of a new culinary delight. Marsha convinced me to try scrapple. I had heard of it but never tried it. Marsha was from the northeast, where it was considered a breakfast requirement.
I tried it, and I am now a fan. And don’t even think about asking me to describe it. I’m pretty sure it was pork, mostly, maybe. And a whole lot of other stuff that, individually would be disgusting, but together, fried and a poached egg on top, oh god, it was good. Marsha seemed pleased by my reaction.
I asked if Agnes knew about it. Marsha said that she had tried it and wasn’t a fan. That got me to wondering if I could convince Mabel to add it to her menu.
After breakfast, I was sitting on the front porch, drinking coffee when Bruce joined me. Suzy still hadn’t returned, but I wasn’t really worried, Bruce might have been, but he didn’t show it. Sitting in the next chair, he sighed. “There are times, Matt when I wish I had your life. Just you and the little lady, alone in the wilderness. No kids, no employees, no worries at all.”
“Best not let Suzy hear that little lady thing. She is anything other than decoration.”
“Yeah, I kinda got that. I told Lois to pack her stuff and get ready to head up to the line cabin. She’s a good hand, particularly with horses. But today, well, I figured it best to get her out of the way for a while.”
“Your people, Bruce. You do what you think is right, don’t mind us. We’re just visitors.”
That was when Suzy and her roan made their dramatic return. She came riding down that front drive like her butt was on fire. Her hair was flying wild, and she had the biggest grin of her life. When she got to the front yard, they pulled up in a cloud of dust. As it settled, she was bent over the roan’s neck, patting and rubbing. She was whispering something that I couldn’t hear. And even if I could, I’d never repeat it.
Dismounting, she led the roan over to the corral. Taking off the saddle and bridle, she started rubbing him down with the towel that was there. The whole time whispering and sweet-talking him. While she was cooling him down, she also gave him a physical exam that would rival a vet. She put her ear to his chest and listened. She lifted all four hoofs and checked them closely, even digging out the dirt. She ran her hands up and down the legs. She even pulled out her mini-mag flashlight and checked his eyes. During all of this, he just stood there, not a quiver. Once she was finished, she turned him out to the pasture. Then grabbing the saddle and bridle, she started towards the tack shed. Standing in the doorway was Lois. As Suzy approached, she held out her hand.
As they shook hands, “Thanks for the roan, Lois. He’s just what I wanted. If you could give me a hand, there’s a dry spot on this bridle. I’d like to get some soap on it and rub it out before it cracks.” Suzy gripped Lois’s upper arm and, not really pulling, directed Lois into the tack shed and shut the door.
Bruce stood up and started to walk towards the barn. “Hold on, Bruce. Let them work it out. This is a pride thing. Neither one will appreciate the interference.”
I could see the worry in his eyes, “Matt, you’re older and have got more experience. I hope you’re right.”
“That’s the thing Bruce, Suzy, was trained by her dad. Proven against two roughhousing brothers and had her skills sharpened by the marine corps. Even if she gets beat, it’ll be legitimate and no hard feelings.”
The door of the tack shed opened, and Suzy stepped out. Followed by Lois. “You’ll handle cleaning that gear, won’t you?”
Lois said, “No worries, ma’am, I’ll get right on it.” Then She scurried off, back into the shed.
Suzy watched her for a moment. And then started heading towards us.
Bruce and I sat on the porch, watching the whole thing. As she got closer, I could see the challenge in her eyes. “Carl, why don’t you show me that ‘quad’ vehicle you were driving yesterday.” As I started to head towards the barn.
“Dad?” The kid was curious about what was going to happen.
“Go with him, Carl, Ms. Williams, and I have got some horse trading to do.”
I looked back and could see that Bruce had picked up the gauntlet, and battle was about to commence. As Carl and I got further away, their conversation faded.
“Well, Taggart, what’s your offer?” “$10000.00, Williams.” “Hah, that hay burner ain’t worth...”
And so, the first battle of the war of the titans was joined.
Chapter 4
As we entered the barn, I could tell that Carl was overcome with curiosity over what was going on with his dad. “Carl, what your dad and Suzy are doing is as old as horses themselves. Horse trading isn’t really an addiction, but it is definitely addicting. It’s like gambling. And people pride themselves on their skills. Right now, your dad is having the time of his life, and so is Suzy. We would be in the way if we stuck around.”
I could see that my explanation was only partially accepted. “Talk to your dad about it later. If you’re lucky, he might start teaching you how to trade. It’ll be to your benefit. Now, tell me about these ‘quads’”
The barn was clean and well laid out. A concrete pad had been poured and covered the floor. To the right was a group of horse stalls. Only 2 of which were occupied. Carl confirmed that it was a make-do vet infirmary. And that the two horses had some colic issues. On the left side was a motor pool set up, including a lift and what looked like a complete machine shop. Parked in one of the stalls was the dune buggy that Carl had been driving yesterday. In the stall next to it were two miniature versions. Single-seat go-cart type machines.
Way off to the side, in a dusty corner, where the unused and discarded equipment was parked and forgotten was a carriage. Something that I had only seen pictures of. An English Phaeton. You could almost imagine the king and queen being carried down the county fair parade. Pulled by a matched pair of blacks. It was dusty and dirty and needed a lot of TLC.
“These are the quads,” Carl called me over to the doodlebug go-carts. “We used to use them around the farm. But then dad bought the UTV. That’s the heavy lifter nowadays.” He then walked me over to the dune buggy. “It helps out a lot if we need to move a lot of things into the backcountry. It took us a while, but we’ve got trails all through the ranch. You can do anything with a quad that can be done with a horse.”
It was difficult, but I stopped myself from laughing. “If you say so, son. Me, myself, I prefer horses. Have you ever rigged a buckboard? Or a surrey? You might want to learn. Sometimes young women can get downright giddy about a midnight surrey ride. Or a horse-drawn picnic down by the swimming hole. Not to mention a buckboard hayride some autumn evening.”
Stepping back over to the quads, I asked, “What about these things? Do they have any use other than running around, having a blast?”
“We have 3 of those, but Donny wrecked one of them. He was going too fast when he tried to turn. Fortunately, he wasn’t hurt. He was wearing his helmet and chest protector. But dad grounded all of the quads until we all go through a safety refresher.”
“Which you got around to tell your dad we were here?”
“Yeah, sort of. I’ve already taken dad’s refresher. I didn’t want to rub Donny or Amber’s noses in it.”
“Well, you’re a good brother, Carl. Let’s see how your dad and Suzy are doing?”
It was evident that a successful conclusion had been arrived at. There was a mason jar and empty shot glasses on the table.
As I approached, I called out, “Well, you ready to go home?”
Suzy’s face dropped. “Not yet, Matt, how about we get an early start tomorrow?”
“You’ve got it, honey.”
Later that night, she asked me, “Well, are you going to ask me how much?”
“Nope.”
“What do mean nope? Aren’t you curious?”
“Nope, not a bit. Your horse, your money, your decision. And none of my business.” I rolled over and put my head on her shoulder. “Babe, how could I do anything other than trust you?” Sleep came easy that night.
Chapter 5
The next day was a confusion of activity. Mainly just folks were stopping by to say goodbye and to exchange contact information. I made sure to get Marsha’s recipe for scrapple, two copies. One for Mabel, the other for myself. I was also able to pry a copy of Bruce’s apple pie recipe from him. I had never had a use for ‘Everclear.’ But now I was going have to stock up. Or find a moonshiner.
One of the things that I had feared was realized. When Donny found out that his newest, bestest, friend in the entire world was going away, his little heart was broke. The poor kid went through the grief stages 3 or 4 times. He was a trooper, though. He didn’t throw a tantrum or whine. Quietly crying, however, was definitely on the menu.
That was when I realized what the problem really was. Even though he had a loving family, mom, and dad, brother and sisters, ranch hands, and animals galore, he had no friends. When Shadow showed up, here was a warm, friendly, and cuddly buddy. Willing to jump and run and roll around in the hay.
It damn near broke my heart, and I blamed myself. I could have stopped this at the very beginning. Calling Shadow out and stopping the playtime. But what was done was done. I called Bruce over, and he was well aware of the problem.
“Bruce, I know this isn’t an immediate solution, but I think it’ll probably work out for the best. Here is the name and phone number of a dog trainer I know in Washington. He’s the guy I got Shadow from. Give him a call, tell him you’re a friend of mine, and he’ll set something up with you. My suggestion is that you take Donny with you when you go to pick up the dog. Take the time to do a little extra daddy-son bonding. It’ll take a week or two of training for both Donny and the dog he picks out. But it’ll be worth it in the long run.”
“Damn Matt, you are putting quite a burden on me. You’re suggesting I leave this place unsupervised for two weeks?”
“Your call Bruce, but there may be another solution. Why don’t you invite Mr. Curran down here? You’re almost set up as a dude ranch already. Have him look around, feed him some good old fashioned country food, and bomb him with your apple pie? You might be surprised.
Then I called Donny over. I sat down on the ground to be closer to his eye level. I called Shadow over and gave him a heel and sit command. He left Donny and sat down on my right side. I reached over and gave him a good ear rub. “Donny, I know you’re upset. And there probably isn’t anything I can say right now that’ll make it better. But I know that you know that Shadow is my dog. He’s my best friend, and I’m his. You understand this?”
Donny stood there, scuffing his toes in the dirt. “Yes sir, it’s just that I was kinda hopein’ that I could make a deal with you. But that ain’t gonna work, is it?”
“No, son, it wouldn’t be fair to Shadow. But I talked to your dad. I think you can probably count on a birthday or Christmas gift that you’ll like.
I saw a gleam of hope in his eyes. “But there will probably be conditions. Conditions that you will have to fill. Things like feeding and walking and cleaning up after. You’ll also need to train it. You can’t have an undisciplined dog running around. These things will be up to you. You assume a responsibility when you adopt a pet.”
I could see a little hint of steel in his eyes. All of a sudden, I was feeling very confident that this youngster was becoming a young man in front of me. I held out my hand, “Deal, Mr. Taggart?”
With all the solemnity of a diplomat, he gripped my hand and shook it. “Deal, Mr. Reynolds”
The rest of the morning was spent loading the truck and putting Suzy’s horse in the trailer, which was surprisingly easy. He went in with nary a neigh and barely a buck.
Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.
Chapter 6
The way back to Elk City was easy. Suzy’s horse was calm and didn’t seem to have any issues. We stopped off in Ashton, Idaho, to visit a saddler that I knew.
Little known and refusing to advertise, he operated solely by word of mouth. And he was probably the best leatherworker I had ever seen. He spent most of 2 days measuring everything that you could think of on both the horse and Suzy.