Page 7 of Tommy

We went from the barn to the stable off at the side. That’s where I came face-to-face with a horse, sticking its head out of a small window. It neighed in my face, flashing it’s very large and scary teeth at me. I almost stumbled back into the snow. I didn’t want to make face planting a thing while I was here, thankfully June was at me side, keeping me standing.

“That’s Scout,” he said. “And this window should be closed. Did you open it?” he asked, I glanced to June, but he was talking to the horse. “Horses are intelligent animals, especially this one.”

Each of the horses had windows, all but Scout’s was closed. The stable itself was almost the same size as the barn. There were rooms for each of the horses. Two of them laid on the hay, while Scout was making most of the noise, sticking his head out of the fence on the inside.

“We have Belle,” he said, gesturing to a white horse with black markings. “She loves people. She’s the one we get people to ride when they’re new.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse.”

“I know,” he said. “But I like to get them out, so you’ll be able to help me with that as well.”

My crotch hurt at the idea of it. I’d seen people ride horses on TV, and it never looked comfortable at all. How didpeople keep their balls from being swallowed back up inside themselves? “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

June snorted. “That’s the spirit. When my kids were younger, they would come up here and help out with the horses. They’re very friendly. Even Thunder.”

Thunder was the last horse aggressively neighing. I didn’t want to get too close. I’d heard stories of the damage a horse could do, and I didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it. “I’ll stick with Belle.” The only horse that didn’t look like it a burning passion to buck me off in its eyes.

“That’s pretty much it,” Hardin said. “And then, if we go back out and around, we’ll come across the workshop and garage area. There’s a snowmobile in there, which I’ll probably need to utilize at some point, and a plough for the times when a shovel won’t do.” He led us back out of the stable, and gestured to the large metal shed. “You won’t need anything from there.”

“Understood.” I didn’t really understand, but it was an easy way to end things. I just wanted to get back to the cabin, unpack, and tell my friends all about this place. My stomach, slowly unknotting itself after coming face-to-face with Hardin. The dread continued to exist in the pit, but it wasn’t quite as intense.

June’s instincts said what I felt, and we walked back to my cabin, where I was left with a goodbye and wave, and some words I knew I was about to hear, but thought it might never come. June with her wholesome smile, delivered the blow. “You’ll have plenty of time to work because we don’t have much signal or WiFi on the property.”

My smile visibly faded as I walked into the cabin and the immediate warmth hit me. “Fuck,” I grumbled. I suppose this is why my agent sent me all the way out here then. He was forcing me to get the work done but packaged the idea with a cute bow, telling me it would be a nice vacation.

As I got out of the large coat and pulled away the tight binding of the boots Hardin had fixed on my feet, I realized I’d left my shoes on the porch. And then the knot came again, recalling the way I’d banged my shoes against the wood beam and called forth that cascade of snow from the roof.

I sat in front of the fireplace on the shag rug. It was almost like being on a beach with the heat blasting me. Relaxing for a moment, I knew I had to double check whether they were telling the truth about the awful cell service conditions.

From my bag, I pulled out my phone. No service. No signal. No life. I had to assume my friends and manager would put their feelers out into the universe and just know I was fine, or maybe they assumed like I’d been living for the last couple of months and I become a hermit the moment I landed.

Laying back on the bed, I stared at the wooden beams of the cabin ceiling. This was all going to be ok. What was the worst thing that could happen? I find a bodice ripper novel hiding somewhere and let it consume me, or I actually got on with work, and surprised even myself by hitting a deadline.

“No distractions,” I mumbled. “I am the distraction.” At least I had some stuffies to play with, and most of my clothes where lined onesies to keep me warm for the colder nights. There were worse places for me to let my little side out. And being alone gave me the freedom to find alittlemore fun.

4. HARDIN

I knew June was going to give me an earful once the kid was back in the cabin. And she did, but in the nicest way possible.

“It’s the season of giving,” she said. “Just think of it like accumulating good karma, and we can never have enough good karma. I doubt he’d be much trouble.” Her words, uttered right in front of the small mound of small. It could’ve been much worse if he’d done that on a heavy snowfall day.

“He left his shoes,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m not going to make a big ol’ song and dance about it. He’s here as a favor for a friend, and I’ve been helped out a bind a time or two myself, so it’s not like I’m going to refuse him anything he might need. Let’s just hope he doesn’t need much.”

“I do have that spare room going at my place,” she said.

“Thanks, but I’ve got a ranch to run,” I said.

“Not for you dingus, for Tommy,” she said.

“Tommy,” I repeated. His word didn’t stick to my mouth like a name should. I’d keep referring to him as the kid since he was probably in his twenties and the way he got around the ranch, maybe with very little life experience. “Although I’m not opposed to you coming up and checking on him, when the snow isn’t heavy.”

She nodded. “You don’t need to ask twice about that. I find myself with too much free time anyway.”

June was there to socialize a couple times a week, she worked here and there, but I think her bigger job was to check in on me. We’d all heard stories of cowboys going crazy from too much time in solitude, and she probably assumed I’d one day end up just like a tragic ending to one of so many stories that all ended the same.

After handing over a carton of eggs and some of the fresh bread, she went on her way, and I was one again ready to sit and relax with my cup of tea and a book. And I did, or at least, I tried to sit inside with a view out of the side window which faced near directly toward the cabin the kid was staying in. He brought about new worries, like what if he burned the entire place down, or what if he goes himself snowed in by whacking a wall, or stomping around. I didn’t know much about city folk and their feet, but they were always under concrete, they must’ve been thumping their feet in all directions as they walked.

“Calm yourself,” I uttered, putting my feet up on a wooden stool. “He’s an adult. He’s not your problem.” I poured tea from my flask into a mug. It was still nice and hot. Pip looked at me as if I was talking to him. “Not your problem either. We’ll see how he gets through the evening, then I could always ship him off into town.” I didn’t want to burden June with it. I’d told my friend I would take care of him, and I wasn’t going to go back on my word. December was supposed to be my month, limited human interaction, and a form of self-care.

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