Page 4 of Tommy

Of course, they were. I believed in omens, and this had to have been one. An omen that this city boy was about to be more trouble than I’d anticipated. “I’m coming,” I said over the talkie before grabbing my shovel. Pip now yapping wildly and Rusty growling at the notion he would have to get up.

Through the windscreen, I saw the guy in the passenger seat, swallowed by a large coat. His wide eyes just stared. June was saying something, mostly mouthing words. I just nodded, tipping my hat. “Looks like you drove into part of the fence,” I said, seeing the wood of the fence where the car had drove up the slope into.

The car was on a tilt. June got out to assess, laughing to herself as she did. “Oh lord, what am I like? Would you believe me if I told you I’d tried driving in a straight line?” Pip jumped up at her, getting his wet paws over her jacket.

“I would,” I said. “It’s an easy fix. I’ll push while you reverse, make sure you’re reversing left back onto the road.” I locked eyes with the kid in the front as he continued to glare at me. “How was it?”

“He’s lovely,” she said. “I warned him about you, of course, don’t worry. I warn everyone about you, doll.”

June could always get me to scoff a little laughter at whatever she had to say. “That explains why he looks so petrified,” I grumbled back. “And he doesn’t have any boots?”

“No. I know. I gave him my son’s coat, well, it was a spare in the car,” she said. “Let me get a shimmy on back in the car andI’ll introduce you. But everyone in town warned him that you’re a bit of a—”

“Dick,” I snorted. “Or whatever nicer term they said.” I knew from the moment I set up in this town that they loved the whole community spirit. I had some community spirit, shared between my fellow cowboys, but in general, I kept to myself.

“It’s better than the whole thing where they were telling their kids if they don’t do well in school that they’d be sent to the ranch where you’d work ‘em to the bone,” she said.

That would’ve been hell for all parties involved. I liked doing things on the ranch my way, and June and Sully both adhered to that. It was nice to go without interference, or at least it would’ve been during my tradition of the winter solitude.

Once June reversed out of the snow bank with a little help from some good ol’ brute strength pushing, she was finally able to drive into the ranch with me walking along side the car. She’d offered to drive me the less than sixty second walk, but I was exercising caution to make sure she didn’t drive herself into anymore hand-ploughed snow banks.

I knew this was setting the tone for everything to come in the next three weeks. And then I saw him from behind, climb out of the car, he stumbled and face planted the snow. He quickly jumped up and shook himself. He turned to me as I smirked. This part of the country shouldn’t forced people to get a permit to travel to, and at least wearing the right footwear. My upper lip curled at the sight of his sneakers, probably already sopping we with the snow they were sucking moisture from.

“Go on ahead to the main house,” I shouted. “I’ll get your bag.”

He looked to June who pointed to the large cabin up ahead. She walked back to me as I popped her trunk and saw the obscenity of color confusion stuck to his entire suitcase. My visceral reaction was to flinch and close my eyes.

“He’s a sweet kid,” she said. “But the suitcase is a lot.”

“Well,” I started to speak when I inspected the stickers. They were teddies and stuffed animals. Many years back, I’d known a guy who was obsessed with teddy bears and playing pretend with them. “I’ll do what I can to accommodate him here. I’m doing this for a friend.” That boy had broke my heart. I’d have to keep my space from this one. I didn’t have a spare heart if this one broke too.

“I think he’s a bit of a big shot,” she said in a giggled whisper. “He wasn’t majorly chatty on the drive, but I got the idea that he’s gonna be famous one day.”

June was sweet, an absolute gem but she was a talker. It was no wonder the kid hadn’t gotten a word in. As I grabbed the suitcase, I noticed both the dogs had gone after him as he’d made his way to the porch. Pip was giving him trouble, nearly knocking him back into the snow by jumping up while Rusty just wanted to get back to his bed.

“I’ve also been told to let him help me out,” I said. “Apparently, he needs to get his head out of the city and apparently connecting with nature will do that for him. As long as he doesn’t mess anything up, and as long as I’m not included in whatever fame hungry scheme the kid is cooking up, I’ll try to put a smile on my face for him.”

June patted my back. “That’s the spirit,” she said. “He also bought you something as well, it was only fromDixon’s, but he was worried you wouldn’t like him if he didn’t get you anything.”

Another reason I disliked the season ofgiving, and it was for the giving itself. I didn’t like getting gifts or giving them, there was far too much pressure on it. If I had a gift to give someone, I would in the moment, and not on some mandated event that had lost all meaning.

“Your silence speaks volumes, Hardin,” she chuckled, carrying two shopping bags. “And yes, I get your special tea bags are in here too. The fruit ones.” She whispered.

My image was carefully cultivated and crafted from my reputation as a cowboy. At my current age, I didn’t quite care if people knew I loved drink fruit tea or bake bread, but if this had been when I was starting out on my first ranch, I might not have been taken seriously.

The kid was sat on my chair on the porch, taking his shoes off and whacking the snow off them on the wooden wrap-around fencing.

“Hey,” I called out. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” he asked, thumping his shoe once more, then scraping it. “I’m trying to get it off so it doesn’t melt into my shoe.”

As he whacked it, June grabbed my arm and gasped. “Oh lord.”

We watched as the blanket of snow on the sloped cabin roof vibrated, and quickly trembled down, around the front of the cabin. It was a small mound, thankfully, but could’ve been dangerous. “That’s why,” I called out to him.

As we closed the gap, I could see the pink-red pinch to his cheeks. Either he was cold, or he could actually process emotions, and his current state of being embarrassed was written all over it. “I didn’t know,” he said. “I was just trying to keep my shoes from—” he puffed his cheeks out. “I’m so unprepared.”

“It’s fine,” I told him, wheeling his suitcase. “Put those boots on. I’ll show you to your cabin.” By the front door, a spare set of brown boots were set out for him. “They’ll keep your feet warm.” I quickly made a pathway through the freshly fallen snow to the porch steps.

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