Two Sides of the Same Coin (21 page)

“See that’s all there is to it is movin’ the stake from one bucket to another. The trick is to not knock over the buckets.” Sandy rode next and ended up knocking over the second bucket. I ran over and refilled it with sand while Mike mounted up. Mike was hitting his horse pretty hard with the reins, and he was all hunkered down as he ran. He transferred the stake and got a better time than either of the girls.

“See if you can beat that, Jeffy!”

“This is the first time I even got any good competition from ya.” I mounted up and pulled back from the corral gate. I had my horse at a full gallop even before getting in the corral. I was whipping the reins back and forth and using my heels to gently spur my mount on. I got the stakes transferred and kept at a full gallop. I slowed the horse a bit and then stood up in the stirrups and put my arms straight out at my sides. With my knees, I guided my horse around the corral. I finally reined him in.

“You and Mike got the same time, Jeff!” Sandy and Maria were both shouting at us. I looked at Mike and smiled.

“Looks like there is no ‘best man’; we’re both good men.” He smiled back at me.

Harrison and Lisa were jumping around yelling, “My turn, my turn!” I leaned over and whispered in Harrison’s ear.

“You know, buckaroo; we cowboys let ladies go first. It’s the cowboy way. How about you say to Lisa, loud enough for your mom and dad to hear, ‘Ladies first’, and let her and Sandy do a stake race; then you and I will do one. Okay?”

“Okay! Ladies first, Lisa!” Tom and Ann were beaming, and Lisa and Sandy ran off to her horse. They mounted up, and she took Lisa around first at a trot, then at a canter. I did the same next with Harrison, but then got the horse up to a gallop as we headed out of the corral. Next, we let the kids up on the horses.

“Okay, buckaroo, here’s how you ride. When you want to go straight ahead, just let the reins loose a bit, and the horse will start to walk forward.” He did that, and I walked alongside. “Okay, now if you wanna turn, just very gently pull the reins in whatever direction you wanna go. He pulled the reins right and the horse obediently went right. I showed him left, and how to stop. Lisa had gotten the same lesson from Sandy. We let the kids ride around the corral a couple of times on their own. They were having a great time.

It was gettin’ on to twilight and gettin’ just a bit chilly. Sandy had finished the beans and potatoes while we were riding, and she suggested we eat indoors. I thought that was a good idea. Mike and I put the horses away, while she and Maria set the table. She’d also fired up the barbecue, so the steaks were ready for the grill by the time Mike and I got back from the barn. We took the steaks out and cooked them all medium. We had a whole big platter of steaks. The table looked great—steaks, cowboy spuds, cowboy beans, corn salad, rolls, butter, all the fixins for the steaks, and pie for dessert. There was beer, soda, wine, and water at the table too. We all sat down and tucked in.

“This is delicious.” Tom was obviously hungry and also liked the food.

“Just who did the cooking?” Jonathan was asking.

“I did, with some help from Sandy on the prep work, and from Mike on the steaks.”

“You could open a restaurant!” I smiled at Ann. I was really happy to have all these folks at the ranch. Tom suddenly changed the subject.

“Sandy was telling us you are thinking about turning this into a dude ranch and taking paying guests.”

“She’s doin’ her best to talk me into that, ain’t ya, darlin’?” She stuck her tongue out at me.

“In all seriousness, Jeff, when she told us that, we all agreed that you have the perfect setup here for that, and that you four are the perfect hosts.” Tom was serious.

Jonathan commented, “You know, Jeff, a couple of years ago, there was an article in our gay travel magazine about a dude ranch that has a couple of gay weeks. After the article, their business went up five times over.”

Tom stared over at Jonathan. “You’re the publisher of a travel magazine? What a coincidence; me too!”

Ann then added, “The entire West Coast is open-minded. I bet if you were to open a dude ranch here with just about everyone welcome, you’d pack people in.” Ann continued, “The valley here is a year round tourist destination. Early in the spring, you have the jazz concert, and a bit later on, the blues festival. Winslett is starting to book country weekends in the spring and fall, and this is one of the primary winter sports destinations in the Northwest. Summer is beautiful here too.”

“Jeff, I heard from Mike both of you like to hunt and fish?” Tom was looking at me now.

“Yeah, we both do.”

“Why not guide hunting and fishing trips? I bet you two know a lot about camping and the outdoors too. You could do horseback camping trips into the North Cascades National Park.”

“You have two editors of travel magazines sitting right here, and we both think you would have a perfect setup here.” Jonathan looked at me, and Tom smiled and nodded.

Sensing she had an advantage Sandy pressed on. “See, Jeff, you have enough support and rooms in the house to start people in here, and then as money comes in, build some cabins. I’d quit One Eyed Jack’s and come work here to help you.”

“I’ll tell you all what, I’ll think on it. Tom, Jonathan, maybe we could talk sometime on e-mail or on the phone about it. Now I appreciate everyone’s opinion, but I want ya to enjoy your dinner, so eat up while it’s hot!”

“Uncle Jeff?”

“Yeah, buckaroo, what’s up?”

“Why do you and Uncle Mike have those rings on the back pockets of your jeans?”

“They’re called Skoal rings, buckaroo. That’s where we keep our dip. The little round boxes make our jeans wear there, like yours do in the knees.”

“What’s dip?”

“It’s tobacco that cowboys put in their mouths instead of smoke.”

“Can I try some dip?” Everyone laughed.

“When you’re all growed up you can. It’s a grown-up thing.” He looked really disappointed. Lisa pointed at my sleeves.

“Your shirt is all dirty, Uncle Jeff.”

“Yeah. That’ll teach me to wear white long handles with a short-sleeve T-shirt when I’m buckin’.”

“What are long handles, Uncle Jeff?” Harrison was full of questions. Everyone laughed at this too.

“Well, buckaroo, we cowboys spend a lot of time outside all year round. Long handles is what they call cowboy long underwear. Like maybe you seen cowboys in a bunkhouse in the movies.”

“Are they red?”

“They can be.”

“Cowboys really wear those?” Jonathan had a skeptical look on his face. Mike answered this time.

“Yeah, we do. Line camps usually don’t have indoor plumbing, neither do bunkhouses on some old-fashioned outfits. You gotta use the outhouse in the winter, and you’re glad you don’t have to take everything off or down.”

“Can I have long handles, Mom?” Harrison was looking at Ann with an angelic expression on his face.

“We’ll see.”

“Jeff, one last thing about the dude ranch.” Jonathan had a pretty strong opinion on this. “You and Mike are the real thing, real cowboys. People would come just for that. I know my readers would love it.”

“Mine would too,” Tom added.

When we finished eating, Sandy got up and asked who wanted blueberry pie, who wanted apple, and who wanted cherry. When we were done with the pie, we moved into the living room and continued the conversation. The dude ranch idea kept resurfacing. It was actually beginning to sound possible. It was a nice comfortable evening, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Finally, Tom and Ann followed by Jonathan made their excuses to leave, and headed out. We all exchanged contact information and promised to keep in touch. Tom and Jonathan hung back to let me know, dude ranch or not, they wanted to do a story about the valley and include me in it. I said I’d let them know. Funny thing was, I had started thinking seriously on it.

Once they had left, the four of us got the dining room and kitchen cleaned up pretty quick. Sandy and Maria decided to go back to Winslett. We walked them out to Sandy’s truck. After some goodbye hugs, they headed out.

Mike and I walked back to the ranch house.

“What do you think, Mike, about this dude ranch stuff?”

“Hell, Jeff, I dunno, but one thing I do know is I had a lot of fun today. It might be kinda fun to do this sort of thing more often.”

“If I did somethin’ like that, I’d really count on you to be my right-hand man.”

“I already am, Jeffy.” We kissed then, a long sweet kiss that seemed to bond us together. After a few minutes, we broke the kiss and just held each other.

“Jeff, I’m pretty sore. I’m gonna head down to the bunkhouse.”

“Okay, buddy. I had a lot of fun rodeoin’ with you and just bein’ around you today.”

“Me too, Jeff; seems like we’re doin’ that kind of stuff more and more. We’re joshin’ and flirtin’ more too.”

“Yeah, it’s nice though, ain’t it?”

“You have a real nice sleep tonight, Jeffy, dream of me.”

“Ya know, buddy, I already do. Good night.” We kissed again and headed to our own beds.

Chapter Nine

I
WAS
sitting in the kitchen with coffee and some oatmeal. A cold front must have gone over in the night. It was cold outside and rainy. I’d gotten up, come downstairs to make coffee, and then gone back upstairs to throw on a pair of sweats. I’d turned on the heat too. I was a bit sore from the rodeoing yesterday. It was as they say, a good sore. It was worth it to see the looks on the kids’ faces.

I heard the back door open, then close. I figured it was Mike, and I was right. He was dressed—jeans and boots. He had on a jean jacket over a flannel shirt and long handles. His black felt hat had some fine beads of moisture on it. He grinned at me.

“Mornin’, Jeffy. You sleep okay?”

“Yeah, buddy, I did. How about you?”

“Fair to middlin’ as you’d say. It sure was nice seein’ how happy those folks were yesterday.”

“It was, and not only the kids, but the grown ups liked it too. You want some oatmeal and coffee?” He answered by going over to the cupboard and gettin’ a bowl and a mug. He got himself situated and sat down at the little table in the kitchen by me.

“I’m surprised you’re here so early, bud. I thought you’d be off in church or something.” The moment I said it, he glowered. It dawned on me that given his background and what he’d been through, church was not the thing to tease him about. He took a deep breath, looked at me, and his expression softened.

He then got a quizzical expression on his face and asked, “Do you believe in God?”

“You know, I don’t really know. I think the message of Christianity is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. A loving God, who loves mankind so much he’d be tortured and die for it. A God who loves everyone unconditionally, and asks us to turn the other cheek, who wants us to help one another, who said, ‘as you treat the least of your brethren, you treat me’. That’s so beautiful. I just can’t reconcile it with those who bomb abortion clinics and shoot doctors who perform abortions, those who use that God of love to justify their acts of hatred, killing in his name. Or that despicable trash picketing funerals of soldiers who died overseas and stating their god did it because the US is too easy on gays and ‘god hates fags’ and ‘AIDS cures fags’. Given the hatred that Christians show and the fact that actions speak louder than words, I just don’t see that love in the acts of most so-called Christians. So I can’t really ascribe to Christianity. Have you ever heard of the Gaia theory?”

“Can’t say as I have.”

“It’s a theory that the entire world is one living organism. That it is all intertwined and interconnected. I believe that, and that each and every thing has energy, or a life force or power, or whatever you want to call it. I believe that the absolute manifestation of that power is the creative force, the force that created this wonderful, beautiful intertwined earth. That force, if you call it God, or see its different aspects as different Gods, is what I believe in. I don’t really believe that the force or energy or God or Gods really mix in our lives as much as we would like. I do believe that force or energy gives us situations, and by how we handle those situations, we make our own luck and destiny.”

“I didn’t know you were such a philosopher, Jeffy. That’s a real nice outlook.”

“Thanks. You know if I touched a sore spot with the church wisecrack, I didn’t mean to. I understand that after all you been through, how that would bother ya.”

“Hell, I know you didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Sometimes I just gotta stop and think and realize that friends josh around with each other. I know ya’d never hurt me.”

“I sure wouldn’t, buddy. So what about you? After all you been through, do you believe in God?”

“Honestly, I don’t rightly know. I guess I wanna believe, but it’s hard. I just don’t see the proof of God in the way people act. And it seems like the ones that believe the most, act the least like they preach. I guess I’m what ya’d call an agnostic.”

“Makes sense; I got another idea if you’re up for it. How about after Sunday dinner with Sandy and her family, we come back here, maybe watch a movie, and in the evening for supper, I’ll make us some pork chops or somethin’, and if you were serious about learnin’ to dance, I’ll teach ya.”

“Is this a second date?”

“Only if you say yes.”

“I reckon it’s a date then.” We sat there grinning at each other. Mike finally asked me, “You Irish, Jeff? I figure you are with a name like Connelly, but it’s just a guess.”

“Yep, my dad’s side is Irish, and my mom’s side is Irish, French, and my grandma was Nez Perce.”

“Cool. My family on both sides is Cajun. With a name like Guidry, you could probably tell. Both my parents came from Louisiana. They’d speak French sometimes. I picked up a little, but can’t hardly carry a conversation anymore. Where’d you learn your Spanish?”

“Far back as I can remember, we had ranch hands from Mexico. I’d always liked hangin’ with the cowboys, and they taught me Spanish. I took some in high school and college. Found out I swear like a trooper in Spanish, but I didn’t know it. I’m gonna jump in the shower. I figure we should be at the Johnston’s by eleven. They eat between noon and one on Sundays.”