Take Only Pictures (7 page)

“Some help you are.”

“I only agreed to help you with the Aspens. Ready to get the stock?”

“Not even close. We show up at the Lodge this early and they’ll start expecting us to work hard.” He put his feet up on the table. Kristine swatted them away.

He smiled his Cheshire cat grin. “Plus, you’re changing the subject.” A surprised look crossed his face. “Or is that your plan? We’re leaving early to swing by the campground next to the Lodge on our way in for you to ‘pick up your
coat
.’ Is that what you girls call it?”

“I lent her my coat because she was cold, not because I was angling to get in her pants.” Kristine cleared her dishes.

Gabe looked stumped. “But she’s hot.”

“Yes, and so was Campsite Seventeen.”

“I thought I knew you,” Gabe said, shaking his head.

“It’s called growing up, baby brother.” She patted him on the cheek and slyly grabbed his coat off the antlers hanging by the door.

They went their separate ways at the Lodge, Gabe off to find Nard and Kristine down to the mule corral with five halters slung over her shoulder and her camera hanging from the other. With Suzy-Q and Scooter trailing, she grabbed a few shots of the mules loose in the corral, noticing as she framed the latter that Dozer had joined her at the fence. She zoomed in on his cowboy scowl before slinging the camera around to her back.

“Never knew what you saw in those bitties,” Dozer said, resting against the corral observing her progress.

“They do the same work your giants do just fine,” Kristine retorted.

“No one likes that string but you. Any packer stuck with ’em is the sissy packer of the summer.”

Though tempted to bite at the childish remark, Kristine knew that it would only egg him on. Instead, she concentrated on catching her five mules, smiling to see them make their way immediately to the gate as soon as she’d swung their lead ropes over their withers. They walked obediently without her having to grab them because they knew grain waited for them at the tie rails. Dozer didn’t move to help her open or shut the gate.

She glared at him as she fastened the gate after the last mule.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” she said, pointedly latching the gate behind her.

“See anyone out there who needs shoeing?”

“Not my job to look,” Kristine said crisply. He didn’t offer to help her but routinely expected her to lend a hand when he was doing anything.

“What’ll it be, Smoke?” she rubbed the mule’s ears as he munched his corn, oats and barley treat, soothing him to a sleep-like daze. “The standard mane buzz and cropped tail? Whiskers?” His lower lip hung low, telling her that he could care less what she did as long as she continued rubbing his ears.

She asked him questions about the years she’d been gone, noting the white patches around his girth area and armpits that betrayed careless handling by other packers. She apologized and got to work, hoping Dozer was just yanking her chain and that they’d had some decent packers in the years she’d been gone. When she was done with his cut, he was the handsome mule she remembered, the sleek well-balanced animal her family specialized in.

“You think I’m crazy for going home last night?” she asked Scooter. In all honesty, her twenty-year-old self wouldn’t have headed back to the Aspens to sleep in her own bunk. Objectively, Gloria tempted her in multiple ways. She was unassumingly beautiful. Her appeal radiated from her self-confidence. Plus, Kristine enjoyed her company a great deal. But this summer, she had bigger things than satisfying a sexual urge to worry about.

In her experience, a seasonal thing never had a chance to become something permanent. Even when she’d dated someone for a while at school, it never got serious. At every milestone, the term ending, finishing a degree, the path she envisioned had never included someone by her side, and the partings had always been mutual, the next step in each woman’s personal life taking precedence over a relationship.

Those musings brought her to Suzy-Q. “When is it going to stop mattering?” she asked, scratching the mule’s ears for a moment. “I’m twenty-seven at the end of the summer. You’d think it wouldn’t matter what Dad says. But he’s totally right about my not being able to support myself. Forget about dreams, how am I going to pay off my student loans?”

Suzy-Q sneezed brown goo all over the front of Kristine’s sweatshirt.

“That’s all you’ve got?” Kristine laughed, wiping away the mess. “You may be beautiful, but you’re not very helpful.”

As she worked on clipping the mules, she relished in the atmosphere of the yard as it came to life. She watched the day-ride girls catching and saddling stock, bantering about which horse was which. Kristine felt a pang of regret. She’d been gone so long that few of the dude horses were familiar to her. There’d been a time when she was queen of the yard, aware of which horses could be trusted with kids, which traveled out and which ones poked along the trail.

She smiled remembering how she could make the packers’ lives hell if she wanted by sending stock with them that she knew would bolt for home the minute they were turned loose in the backcountry. Some of the cowboys made an effort to stay on her good side. For them, she’d set aside her favorites. Peacock, Lumpy, Chief. They’d been old-timers when she was here, and she wasn’t surprised that they’d moved on, died or been traded in during her absence, but they’d always been the choice horses to have in the backcountry.

Then there were the tough-to-bridle horses, the ones who nipped when cinched. She had always sent those with Nard. Because he never remembered to untie Gulliver when he bridled the gelding, he’d ended up with more than one broken lashrope. Kristine drew immense satisfaction from his seething about his broken gear and how much trouble she caused him when he went to tie a load onto a mule with a shorter lashrope. All that had changed when she joined him in the backcountry.

Kristine rolled her shoulders and stretched her neck, remembering how she’d told herself that it was those childish pranks that had prompted Nard to request her as the helper on his travel trips. She tried her best to stay out of his way on the trips and knew she could have avoided a lot of conflict with him if she’d just done her work, but his incompetence bothered her so much that she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t hold her tongue and continued to needle him.

The jingle of the harness on the team her brother and Nard had taken down the wagon trail signaled their return. Kristine snapped the clippers back on, vowing to ignore the guys as she finished her task. Peripherally, she watched the day-ride crew join them. Once her stock was presentable for the season, she drifted to the shoeing shed to watch Dozer work, noticing his grimace as she pulled her camera out again. Just to mess with him, she kept taking shots from behind him, framing the mule’s foot with his rear.

“Any of these kids need sneakers?” Gabe asked, making her jump. She tried to hide how much he’d startled her.

“All of them,” she responded. “But I’ll tackle that tomorrow. Leo hasn’t said anything about having any spots for me yet.”

“Nard’s got a big trip leaving in a few days. He was talking about how you could be second packer on it.”

Kristine tensed at the suggestion and more so as she watched Nard approach her mules. She gathered her strength and marched across the yard. “I didn’t pack for any overnight trip,” she said pointedly.

Nard ran his hand along Suzy-Q’s freshly-shorn mane. “I’ve got an extra bedroll you can use. It’s the Horse Heaven trip, too.”

“I came back to work the Aspens with Gabe.”

Nard moved with her, dropping his voice low enough that Gabe wouldn’t be able to hear. “You sure you didn’t come back for something else?” He openly leered at her. “Seems like a big coincidence your coming back right when I’m heading out there. I always thought it a shame…all those years you worked here and never once saw Horse Heaven.”

“I never lost sleep over it,” Kristine said, knowing what he was insinuating.

“I have.” He ran his hand down the mule’s rump, giving it a smack that made both the mule and Kristine jump. That made him smile. “I’ll tell my dad we’re all set with you as second packer.”

She suppressed a shudder, trying to find a way out of the trip. She knew she’d have to face him this summer, but it was going to be on her own terms, not his. She glanced at Gabe, took in his puzzled expression, and knew she couldn’t say anything to Nard as he walked away.

She untied Scooter and Suzy-Q from the rail and led them toward the stock truck they used for hauling horses and mules between the two pack outfits, leading them up the wooden platform. Her brother loaded Joker and Pepper.

“Still spooked?” he asked.

“No,” she lied, hating that now she also had to figure out how to divert her brother. When it first happened, it had been easier to tell him she’d been hurt tying one of the horses to the picket line in the backcountry. Being back, though, she could feel how closely he watched her, and his tone was serious and protective, something she hadn’t heard before, emotions she’d hoped to see in her father. Although he’d hesitated when she’d gone through her carefully crafted details, he accepted her story without question. She knew he’d be disappointed that she hadn’t followed the cowboy code of getting right back in the saddle, but even he couldn’t ignore that she wasn’t up to it physically for quite a few weeks. He couldn’t argue with her logic when she insisted that she wasn’t useful to Leo if she hurt too much to get in the saddle. Usefulness, that was the answer.

“It’s that he’s still such an idiot. It makes no sense at all to have me out on that trip. Obviously, he needs to be training one of the new guys. I’m not going to be riding any of the trails on this side of the valley. I’m sure Leo will shut his idea down and send someone who actually needs to know the stopovers.”

Her brother smiled.

“What?”

“You know it’s that common sense that makes Dad think you’re destined to run the ranch. You have a business sense of the big picture that I’ll never have.”

“Don’t you dare tell him,” Kristine said, punching him.

“No. It’s our secret,” he said, holding her eyes. He hesitated, but then continued, “You sure that…”

She waved him off with an excuse of wanting to get the stock over to the Aspens.

As she drove back, a wave of guilt crashed on her. She understood how angry and hurt Gabe would be if he found out what she’d been hiding all these years. At first, she’d been too scared to tell him. Then too embarrassed. She felt guilty for keeping him in the dark but saw no easy way to tell him now. It was so long ago.

Do you even have a plan?
Her father’s words mocked her. She had no plan at all. Had she come back specifically to confront Nard? The tangled knot in her stomach betrayed that she’d rather not. She’d returned for Gabe, she reminded herself. In helping him, she hoped to remove some of the sting from when she’d left. If she was able to work the summer through to the end, she hoped to redeem herself, at least in her own eyes. She wondered whether that was possible without having to dig up the past.

Kristine reflected on how things were when she’d run home to Quincy so unexpectedly six years ago. It was clear that her dad hadn’t fully believed her explanation. She’d worried so much that he’d push for more details, more answers about why she didn’t finish out the trip. At first, she was relieved that he’d let it go, but then the fact that he did so actually hurt. He’d always taught her to tough it out, but when she’d bailed, he hadn’t pushed the issue. The way he’d dropped it confirmed for her that he saw his daughter as a weakling. She’d been battling that perception ever since and needed to prove to herself that she wasn’t.

Chapter Eight

Gloria punched in the numbers of her calling card and relished the sound of the ringing that said her call had finally gone through. She’d spent too much time wandering around the campgrounds trying to find a cell phone signal, and had given up and headed for the payphones at the Lodge.

“Hey, Ma,” she said when her mother picked up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I can’t call you?”

“You send cards. That’s what you do. I got your last one, by the way. Lovely, lovely place. But you don’t call unless something’s wrong. Bear attack?”

“No.” Gloria pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Stupid campers?”

“Same as usual.”

“Something wrong with the camper? You need to talk to your father?”

“Mom. I’m fine. The camper’s fine. Can’t I just call to say hi?”

There was silence on the line as her mother processed all of that. Just as Gloria thought she would let it slide, she began to laugh. “No. Your evenings, you hunker down with your work or a book. What’s got you worked up enough to find a place to make a call? This isn’t your cell. Are you up in Mammoth?”

“At the Lodge, Mom. There are payphones here. The cell coverage is spotty.” Gloria rested her back against the building, watching the activity at the corrals, looking for the real reason she’d walked over. She couldn’t stop thinking about Kristine. Unanswered questions had been buzzing around in her head, especially during her quiet evenings. Though she realized that Kristine was at the Aspens most days, Gloria still walked over to the Lodge around six thirty, hoping that Kristine might have headed back down for dinner or another campfire gathering.

“You’re lonesome,” her mother diagnosed.

“I’m fine. I like my solitude.”

“Usually when you say that, I believe you. This time, I don’t. What’s going on?”

Gloria realized she might as well talk to her mother. She had after all called her. “There was this campfire thing a few days ago, after my talk.” She shrugged even though she knew her mother could not see her. The line remained quiet as her mother waited for her daughter to continue. “I guess it made me homesick. I move around so much that there’s never a group who welcomes me back, no old-timers…” Movement in the yard distracted her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Kristine riding in with a string of mules behind her.