Montana Hearts - 5. Chapter 5 - A Family Reunion

-- Chapter Five --

The following morning brought another clear Montana sky, and by breakfast the ranch yard was already alive with activity.

Horses were being fed and watered, trailers opened, and saddles hauled out into the sunshine. Hank's crew had started preparing the corrals and sorting equipment for the work ahead.

The smell of coffee drifted from where the table had been set up the night before, along with the considerably more inviting aroma of bacon and eggs.

Carter had been awake since first light.

He'd slept well beneath the stars, although the morning air had been cold enough to make him grateful for the extra blankets he'd packed.

After breakfast, he helped Rip check their horses, then spent some time lending a hand wherever it was needed.

It was late morning when the sound of another truck approaching caused several heads to turn. Carter looked up from where he was standing by the corral, watching one of the cowboys working a colt, to see a familiar pickup coming up the hill from the main house, towing a horse trailer.

For a moment he simply stared. Then he smiled.

'Well, I'll be damned.'

Moments later, Kayce Dutton climbed from the driver's seat and stretched. He looked around the yard, taking in the trailers, the horses and the gathering of familiar faces.

Then he spotted Rip.

'Well, look what the cat dragged in.'

Rip turned, then a grin spread across his face.

'About damn time you showed up.'

The two men met halfway across the yard and shook hands, pulling one another into a brief embrace.

'Good to see you, brother,' Kayce said.

'You too,’ Rip replied.

Beth appeared from beside the trailer.

'Jesus Christ, Kayce. You look like shit.'

Kayce laughed. 'Good to see you too, Beth.'

She hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go. It was the first time they had seen each other in over a year.

For a moment neither said anything. Then Beth stepped back and looked at him, while holding him at arm’s length.

'You doing okay?'

Kayce nodded. 'Yeah. Getting there.'

Beth studied his face. ‘And how about Tate?’

‘Same, same,’ Kayce answered.

She knew better than to push. Instead, she simply squeezed his arm.

Carter came across the yard. 'Hey, Kayce.'

Kayce smiled. 'Carter! Hell, look at you.'

They shook hands, then hugged briefly.

'Been a while.'

'Yeah,' Carter replied. 'Sure has.'

Carter looked toward the truck and trailer.

‘Where’s Tate?’

Kayce looked at him, perhaps mildly surprised he'd even asked.

‘We pulled up down at the main house and spoke to Hank. Dropped him there to help Maddie with some horses. They’ll be along soon enough.’

'Oh, okay then. So, you need a hand with your horses?' Carter asked.

***

Tate’s Appaloosa filly was the first one off the trailer, and Carter was leading her across to the corral when he heard a shrill whistle, followed by a sharp, ‘Hey! That’s my horse!’

He spun around to see two people coming toward him, each leading a horse, and for just a moment, Carter didn't recognize the young man approaching him.

If this was Tate, he was taller than Carter remembered, broader through the shoulders, and carried himself with the easy confidence of someone who spent a good deal of his life in the saddle.

Then Tate looked directly at him, and Carter realized he was right.

Hell. That IS Tate?

He watched for another moment. The last time he'd seen him, Tate had still seemed like a kid. Now he looked every inch a young cowboy.

For a moment, the same expression of surprise that Carter had felt must have been on his own face, now crossed Tate’s face. Carter had changed too, apparently. He was taller, more solidly built, and there was something about the way he stood that reminded Tate unmistakably of Rip.

Not surprising, really. The two had spent enough time together.

Tate broke out in a grin, as Maddie stopped to talk to her grandfather.

Carter raised a hand. 'Hey.'

Tate smiled. 'Hey.'

'Been a while.'

'Yeah.'

Carter nodded toward the filly he was holding. 'Kayce told me she is yours.'

'Yep.'

'Nice horse.'

'Thanks.'

'Looks like she'll make a good one.'

'Hope so.'

There was a momentary pause.

Then Tate grinned.

'You always this talkative?'

Carter laughed.

'Only when I've got something interesting to say.'

'Well, don't strain yourself.'

That earned another laugh.

And just like that, the awkwardness disappeared.

***

A little later, after the horses had been settled and the gear unloaded, Carter found himself standing beside a wooden gate overlooking one of the larger corrals.

Tate approached from the other side and for a few moments they simply watched the horses moving around the enclosure.

Then Carter nodded toward Tate's filly.

'She got a name?'

'Yeah.'

'You gonna tell me what it is?'

Tate grinned. 'Depends.'

'On what?'

'Whether you're gonna make fun of it.'

Carter laughed.

'Well, now I definitely want to know.'

Tate shook his head. 'Forget it.'

'Aw, come on.'

'Nope.'

Carter leaned against the gate. 'Fine. I'll just call her Princess.'

Tate burst out laughing. 'You do that and she'll probably kick you.'

'Wouldn't be the first woman to try.'

'You saying you've got experience?'

'More than you, probably.'

'Bullshit.'

They both laughed.

For a while they stood there talking about horses, the country around the Lazy D and the work Hank had planned.

It was an easy conversation. Surprisingly easy.

Back at Yellowstone, they'd known one another, worked with each other, but without ever really becoming friends.

They'd occupied the same world, worked around the same people and shared some of the same experiences, but there had always been a certain distance between them.

Now, standing on opposite sides of a wooden gate, that distance seemed to be disappearing, though neither particularly noticed it happening.

They were simply two young cowboys enjoying one another's company and looking forward to the task they had come to this place for. A few minutes later they were walking back toward the trailers in companionable silence.

For a moment their shoulders bumped together, and they glanced at each other, not sure exactly what had happened, but both knowing that something had happened. They had both felt it.

‘It’s Tah-hy,’ Tate said.

‘What?’

‘Her name. The filly. Tah-hy.’

‘Interesting.’

‘Well, at least you didn’t laugh.’

‘I take it that it has a meaning?’

‘Yeah. It does. It was the name of one of the daughters of Chief Joseph. So maybe when you called her Princess, it wasn’t too far off the mark.’

‘Chief Joseph. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of him.’

‘Seriously? Have you heard of the Nez Perce Indians?’

‘Oh, yeah . . . didn’t the cavalry chase them into Canada or something?’

‘Yeah, but they didn’t quite make it. Chief Joseph was their leader, who led them on the march. This country here . . . all this country, the Yellowstone, this was part of the route they took. Right now, we could be standing directly on top of where they camped . . .’

Carter looked around him at the mountains behind them and the valley below them. It wasn’t difficult for him to imagine an Indian camp down by the cottonwoods along the river.

‘The Appaloosa horses were the horses of the Nez Perce, which carried them for almost twelve hundred miles while they tried to escape the cavalry, to prevent themselves being rounded up and placed in a reservation. They made camp about forty miles from the Canadian border, while thinking they had actually made it and were safe, but the cavalry caught up with them . . .’

‘Oh, wow!’ Carter said, as his gaze shifted back to the dark-colored filly in the corral, with the pretty blanket across her rump. She was standing at the fence, looking back at them. Proud and beautiful.

It was only then that Carter remembered that Tate’s mother, Monica, was of Native American descent, and he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps Tate was related to the Nez Perce Indians that had travelled through this very valley.

***

That afternoon, Hank sent his own hands and Maddie out into the valley to gather some nearby cows and calves, so that when Monday came, they already had calves to catch and mark and brand close by. He had arranged for this portion of the herd to be brought in closer on Friday, to a section that was near to the main house, as he knew it would save a good deal of time once they got started on Monday.

When everyone who was still in the camp heard the cattle coming in mid-afternoon, Tate and Carter quickly grabbed their horses and saddled them, then rode out to greet the incoming herd. They were careful to scout wide and not ride directly toward the cattle, so as to not give them any reason to be balked or spooked, then helped the boys guide them into the holding pasture close to the yards.

The smell of grass and horses, dust and cattle really hit home with Carter. It was all different to what he had become used to back in Texas this past year, but there was no comparison between the two memories. He knew where he preferred to be.

As the corral gates were slammed shut, the whoops and hollers from the young cowboys filled the air, while the older cowboys simply looked on in amusement.

‘That was the easy part,’ Lloyd called out to one of the boys. ‘The real work starts tomorrow!’

‘We’re ready for it!’ one of the Lazy D boys answered, while Tate and Carter simply laughed.

‘You better hope you are,’ Tate called across the corral to him.

***

That evening, the fire was built in the same place as the night before, and Hank hosted another cookout. The only difference this time was that a chuck wagon and a camp cook had now arrived, and a feast was being prepared.

Once again, the cowboys began to gather around the fire after having a meal dished up to them, this time by Cookie, only now, however, there were a few other familiar faces, and the mood took on a slightly more serious note. Tomorrow they would be getting down to business.

Kayce sat beside Rip, listening as Lloyd launched into another story about the old Yellowstone days. Beth and Teeter were already arguing about something, although neither seemed particularly serious about it.

Hank sat nearby, looking around at the gathered company with obvious pride and satisfaction. And across the fire from one another sat Tate and Carter.

After helping bring the cattle in earlier, they had spent a good part of the remainder of that afternoon working around the horses, mostly together, exchanging jokes and finding small excuses to continue conversations they'd started earlier.

Nothing unusual. Nothing particularly remarkable. But as the evening wore on, Carter found himself looking across the fire more often than he might otherwise have done.

Once, he caught Tate watching him. Tate smiled.

Carter smiled back.

Then both turned their attention toward Lloyd, who was in the middle of a particularly outrageous story.

A little later, it happened again.

This time Tate raised his eyebrows, as though asking whether Carter believed a word of what Lloyd was saying.

Carter shook his head slightly.

Tate grinned.

Neither spoke. They didn't need to.

The fire crackled between them, sending a shower of golden sparks upward into the clear Montana night.

And somewhere among the laughter, the old stories and the familiar faces, something new was beginning. Something neither boy had expected. And something neither yet had a name for.

***

Later that night, as Carter was beginning to prepare for bed, a figure emerged from the darkness, carrying a bedroll.

‘Mind if I doss down here?’ Tate asked.

Carter looked up and smiled. ‘Of course not. Just so long as you don’t snore.’

‘We’ll see who does the most of that,’ Tate replied, as he undid the straps and then set the bed on the ground and rolled it out flat.

It was almost identical to that which Carter had: a canvas sheet, with a thin mattress, a couple of blankets, a thin pillow. Just enough to take the edge off sleeping on hard ground. For these young guys they would be able to handle this minor hardship, but for the older cowboys, they mostly preferred a little more comfort these days, lest the aches and pains in their bones became overwhelming.

The boys settled down beside each other, and for a while they were chatting quietly, gazing up at the stars, their hands behind their heads, while catching up on what had been going on in their lives.

Tate asked Carter what Texas was like, and the first thing that Carter could think of to say was, ‘Damn hot!’

This generated a soft chuckle from Tate.

They discussed the differences between riding through scrubby pine in Montana and thorny brush in Texas, and they both knew what won that argument, hands down. The discussed wild Texas cattle verses wild Montana cattle, with the honors coming in about even on that one.

‘Hey,’ Carter said, as he propped himself up on one elbow a few moments later and looked across at Tate. He could just make out Tate in the shadows, thanks to the faint glow still coming from the fire. ‘I haven’t said how sorry I was to hear about your mom. And I really mean that. She was a great lady. I hope you and Kayce are doing okay with it all.’

Tate propped himself up and faced Carter. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘It hasn’t been easy, but I guess we’re getting by.’

For some reason Carter couldn’t quite understand, he suddenly wanted to reach out to Tate. He wanted to touch him, or to hug him. Just why that thought came to him at that moment, he couldn’t quite be sure, but it just seemed . . . natural to him to want to do that.

He managed to refrain from acting on that impulse, for fear that it might be misunderstood, and the last thing he wanted was to ruin this new friendship before it had become solid. But it left him with thoughts in his head that were new and somewhat confusing. He decided they could be dealt with some other time, but just as he lay back down and let his head rest on the poor excuse for a pillow that he had, it was then that the soft sounds of some music came to him, seemingly from the nearby J-Bar trailer.

He recognized the song immediately. It was a one of the early ones from that Australian band he had been listening to recently. Something about a guy having thoughts about another guy and asking “what do I do?”.

And given the thoughts that had been going through his head tonight, it seemed to fit!

The next question was, what would Tate’s reaction be to the song. When he nervously glanced over at his friend, he found that Tate was tapping his hand against his thigh, in time with the music.

What the hell? Did he already know this song, Carter wondered? And did he know what it was about?

To be continued . . .