Page 9 of High Density

As an afterthought, I add, “Unless I’m called out.”

He leans in, fixing those dark, brooding eyes on me.

“See you at seven.”

JD

“Nice.”

The quarter horse Jonas backs out of the trailer is a beauty; dapple gray with a white mane and tail. He carries both his tail and his head high, dancing on his feet as he takes in his new surroundings.

“Yeah, he’s a looker,” Jonas confirms. “Spirited too, and already a big boy, even though he still has a good year—maybe two—before he’s done growing.”

Based on that, I’m guessing he’s two and a half, at most, three years old. Horses are generally at full height at between four to five years of age.

Sully takes the lead from Jonas and starts walking the new stallion—who dances sideways alongside him—to the stables.

“He’ll make some pretty babies,” I observe.

“Let’s hope he produces,” my boss states. “I want Doc over here checking him out as soon as possible.”

“Doc was just here this morning. Sunny went into labor and the foal was stuck backward.”

At Jonas’s look of concern, I immediately clarify, “Both are fine, but it took some doing. They’re both still in one of thebirthing stalls. The mare had a prolapse Doc managed to get back in place, but she was gonna check in again in the morning.”

Jonas nods. “Call her. See if she can have a look at the new load then too.” He points at the large trailer. “Picked up a couple of draft-quarter crosses, solid trail horses. Help me unload them?”

Most of the team’s horses are that crossbreed, mainly because they’re strong, sure-footed, and reliable, all of which are traits we need when we’re out in the field. We want to be able to keep our focus on what’s around us, rather than on trying to keep our horse controlled. Sure, it’s fun from time to time to ride one with a bit more spunk, more spirit, but for work strong and steady does the job.

“We’ll put these guys in the small paddock behind the barn for now.”

By the time we’ve unloaded the three horses, and I’ve made sure they have some fresh hay and a filled water trough, it’s already closing in on six thirty. I need to get home and grab another quick shower before I go pick up Janey.

“Taking off without dinner?”

Ma is just helping Thomas inside from his rocker on the porch when she catches me heading for my truck.

“I’ll grab something. See you tomorrow,” I quickly add as I jump behind the wheel.

If I don’t get out of here right now, I know Ma will give me the third degree. As it is, I can see her watching me back out of my spot, her eyes narrowed in speculation. The woman has a sixth sense, she always knows when something is up. I never could lie worth shit to her, she always found a way to pick the truth out of me. She can be relentless.

As is evident two minutes later, when I pull onto the road and my phone notifies me I have a message. A quick glance shows it’s Ma.

Don’t forget your sister is visiting this weekend, in case you were hoping to make other plans.

Like I could’ve forgotten,she’s been reminding me Una is coming up from California at least once a day for weeks. Ma doesn’t know I probably talk to my sister more than she does, and I’d like to keep it that way.

Una is a little over four years younger than me. Growing up, I took my role as her protector pretty seriously, it was engrained by my father I had to look out for her. But that ended up taking on a different meaning than what he’d intended as we got older.

Una had a turbulent adolescence, facing off with my more traditional parents—especially Ma—constantly. My sister was struggling with her identity, something I’d become aware of, but our parents were oblivious to. Things became so strained between my parents and sister, that the moment she graduated high school, she packed her stuff and hit the road.

She landed in California where she ended up becoming a wildland firefighter with the CCC, the California Conservation Corps. She’s stationed out of San Luis Obispo and, from what I can gather, is happy there.

She rarely comes home though, maybe once or twice a year, and my parents have never been to visit her. I carefully suggested it a few times to both Una and our parents, but was shut down quickly with one excuse or another. They’re civil to each other, but it’s like they’re still locked in a standoff, with Ma and Una equally stubborn.

Unfortunately, I know for Una it’s more than stubbornness keeping her away, but it’s not my story to tell and a secret I’ll take to my grave. Still, I’m not keen on being stuck in the middle,which is what it feels like on those rare occasions my family is together.

The moment I pull up to my trailer, I force thoughts of my family out of my head, and focus on getting cleaned up in record time.

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