Page 2
Story: Tommy (A Little Christmas 3)
There was never a single moment of peace on the ranch, which is why I looked forward to December so much. The snow picked up, the roads to the ranch were impassable, cell service was spotty, and I was able to go undisturbed for a good chunk of time until the owners were checking in for updates. All of that changed when I got a call, out of the blue, a very old friend, Mick Easton, he needed somewhere to send his client on a self-imposed retreat. I might’ve said no , but I owed him one after he rescued me way back from catching a near-certain death one winter on the road when I’d caught a flat on my spare tire.
It was safe to say, agreeing to helping Mick out now with his city-boy was payback and a half for the life he’d saved. And who knows, maybe I’d have gotten a little frostbite and lost a couple toes, it might’ve been worth it to spend the holidays alone, like I’d looked forward to, and had planned for the longest time.
Lone Pine Ranch had been my home for a number of years now. Before this, I’d lived on larger ranches where there were more workers. I’d found that I thrived when I could do things my way without several other cowboys competing for the same work.
Under my care, there were three horses, two dogs, two goats, two barn cats, and a small flock of chickens, always managing to be under my feet whenever I went out to see how they were doing. They were all the interaction I needed, even if June and Sully, the part-time workers here said I needed to be more integrated with the town. They really didn’t understand me at all if they thought I wanted to become that cowboy who came to town and was surprisingly unlike all the other cowboys they’d met.
I needed a good book, a hot tea, and the crackle of a nearby fire. I was a fresh forty, and while I might only now be looking my age, I’ve always felt like I had an old soul trapped in me. I didn’t care much for technology or all the new-fangled appliances city slickers needed to get through their day. I hated dealing with people from the city, trying to come here with preconceived notions of how the ranch was going to be. Whoever this kid was, he was going to be in for a rude awakening.
As the teakettle whistled, a crackle came over the walkie-talkie. It was June, she was close and that meant I had to get out there and shovel out the snowbank that had built up around the road. Since June only came over a couple days a week, when I was left alone, I allowed the snow to build up like small fort—nothing you couldn’t step through or acorss. I pulled the teakettle from the stove and poured the water into my tea flask. I was expected to spring into action like a good host.
“ Junebug to Big Eagle ,”her voice came through the walkie-talkie. “ Our guest doesn’t have appropriate footwear. ” She followed it up with a slight whisper to the passenger in her car. “ But we did grab groceries and I got you some of that tea you like. ”
It was the least she could do. I pressed my thumb into the side of the walkie-talkie.”Thank you, Junebug,” I said. “There are spare boots. I can bring a pair to the car when you get here.”
Armed with a shovel, I tucked the walkie-talkie into the holster on my belt. I fixed my Stetson on my head, and zipped my cozy lined jacket to the neck. I knew I’d have to force myself to smile and greet him, which I quickly practiced in the reflection of the mirror by the front door. I was still coming to terms with my alone time being invaded.
The road to the ranch was visible, forcing me to watch as they approached for five minutes before actually arriving. I’d shoveled the snow equally between the side of each road. And while waiting, I sat on the wrap-around porch of the main house. My tea finished steeping in the flask. I tugged the string and wrung it out before inhaling the red berry scent. The two dogs were resting by me. Rusty and Pip, Rusty was an old blue heeler. He followed me around everywhere and rarely made a sound. Then there was Pip, a hyperactive border collie pup that yapped far too much, especially when he was near the goats, cats, or chickens, not like he stood a chance against them, especially those chickens.
Pip jumped to his paws and skidded down the slick snowy porch steps. He barked at the incoming car as it approached, as if he hadn’t just been trying to get under my feet or fight with the shovel just moments ago.
“Quit it,” I snapped, pouring a tea into the lid of my cup. “You’ll have plenty of time to annoy our guest, and I hope you do.” I wasn’t exactly hoping the animals would annoy him, but it would be one way they might be used to get him to cut his trip short.
Rusty stared at me, waiting for me to stand before he spent any energy on it.
“Yeah, you stay there,” I told him. “But you’re gonna have to put some effort in to annoying him when he gets settled. Make sure the settling doesn’t happen.”
This place wasn’t the right place for a city boy to come in the middle of winter. The snow alone should’ve been enough to scare him off. And with threats of snowstorms on the horizon, I’d prefer it if he left before that happened.
The car got stuck in a section of snow, the wheel grinding and spinning as it couldn’t get any grip.
June’s voice came through the walkie-talkie. “ Looks like we hit the snowbank. ”
I could see the bank of snow at the side of the car she’d driven up. My eye twitched. June was competent, but snow blindness hit us all sometimes, especially when we were driving. “I’ve got eyes on you. Reverse out of it.”
“ The tire is lodged, I think, wait, I’ll see if I can— ” the sound of her car growling was heard through both the walkie-talkie and as close to me as it was. “ Both front and back tires are lodged .”
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 and I’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 from Dixon’s , but he was worried you wouldn’t like him if he didn’t get you anything.”
Another reason I disliked the season of giving , 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.
“I’m so unprepared,” he said, glancing from me to June. “I should’ve had boots and a coat. I have a scarf and hat, but they’re in my suitcase. Which—” he huffed again. “I should’ve taken from the car.”
I reiterated to him that it was fine, and while it wasn’t actually fine, I was in the business trying to keep the status quo where possible. “Might as well take you on a tour of the ranch while we’re at it as well.”
“Wonderful idea,” June said. “I’ll pop your tea bags inside first.” She walked passed the kid into the cabin as he was busy trying to tie the boots up.
I watched for a moment, unable to not do anything. “Let me do it,” I grumbled. I got him to sit on the chair as I dipped to a knee and helped him into the boots, tying them tight.
“This was all last minutes,” he said. “But I won’t be much of a burden.”
“I’m just paying back a favor,” I told him.
“Thank you. I’m Tommy, not sure if he told you that.”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding at him. “I know. I’m Hardin. And it’s not difficult to see you’re not equipped for this place in winter. If you have any questions, this is where I reside, but don’t bother me after six in the evening.” It was a bit of an arbitrary figure, but I wanted to set a boundary, and show that I could.
“Understood.”
June came out on cue. “It smells amazing in there,” she said. “What did you have for lunch?”
“Soup,” I said, plainly. “Let’s go.”