Page 74 of My Cowboy Freedom
Chapter 19
Sky
When I tried to get up at dawn, Julio sent me back to my bunk. Elena had kept her promise to let me sleep in, which was sweet. I took some generic pain reliever, crawled back into bed, and slept another three hours.
By the time I did get up, I was in a much better frame of mind to face the day.
Footsteps coming up to the door woke me. A knock followed. To my surprise, Elena waited outside. “You see? I’m a woman of my word. I got Julio to let you sleep in.”
“Thanks for that.” Since I was wearing only boxers and a T-shirt and it was still way too early to be flashing folks at the Rocking C, even accidentally, I closed the door halfway. “Excuse me. I’ll be out in a second.”
“Take your time. It’s going to be a beautiful day. I’ll just have a seat in the shade here for a bit.”
I dressed and then met her outside. “Did the boss leave instructions for me?”
“Actually,” she said, “since you were up so late last night, I asked if I could borrow you for the day. I’m taking Rocky to the doctor and I’d like you to come along.”
Something has changed.
Either her opinion of me had evolved, or this was some kind of trick.
I schooled my face. “If that’s where you need me.”
“It would be a great help.”
As she explained about the town Doctor and Rock, she made me feel like I was equally important to the wellbeing of the ranch. She could also intimidate me at will, exactly like ‘Nando, and because of that, when she suggested I get a checkup too, it took me a minute to realize she was waiting for me to say something.
I nodded. “Okay.”
As we passed by the chicken coop, she scooped a handful of feed out of a plastic bin and began scattering it.
The chickens flew into a frenzy. They were beautiful, colorful birds with crests and beards. I had a suspicion Rock was responsible for choosing them. Like the coop itself, the plants he grew, and the music he played, Rock’s chickens were just a little bit more colorful than ordinary poultry. I’d have bet my last dime there was a little chicken graveyard somewhere with hand-carved wooden crosses, each with a chicken’s name, carefully lettered on. Probably, none of Rock’s birds had to worry about ending up in a pot.
There was no sign of Rock, except for the coop itself. Painted a bunch of different bright colors, his little chicken bordello stood out some, just like his birds.
“This is hilarious,” I pointed out the obvious.
She smiled her satisfaction. “You surprised me last night.”
“I did?”
“You have a knack for helping Rock without him noticing.”
I shrugged.
She gave me a stern look. “I was hoping you’d help me out some too.”
“I will if I can.” I liked Elena. It was her warmth that made the Rocking C feel like home. Her warmth that made things easier for everyone, not just Rock.
Elena reminded me of the prison shrink, except Mrs. Peterson was an African American woman and a pretty fearsome amateur MMA fighter. Both ladies picked their words carefully.
“Rocky likes you. It’s hard for him to make friends. I think he believes his physical limitations make him less than a man.”
I understood how he felt. “It’s hard to go from having everything to having nothing.”
“He told me you want to go to Bible study?”
“If it’s convenient.” Inside, they told me to have a routine. A job, a routine, and community. Mrs. Peterson told me I needed to find all three to be successful. Ifsuccessmeant never going back, I was all in. “I’d like that.”
