Part 22 (1/2)
”I'm going to miss your cowboy logic.” She traced lazy circles on Kristine's belly. ”And your belt buckles. Your s.e.xy chaps.”
”c.h.i.n.ks.”
”Whatever. I'm going to miss you.”
Chapter Thirty-Five.
Kristine let the screen door slam behind her as she entered through the kitchen of her parents' home. After Gloria had left for Sacramento, Kristine's need to finish with the Lodge had intensified. Without any spots out of the Aspens, she and Gabe had moved their stock down to the Lodge and dined with the remaining skeleton crew. Afterward, she had stood with Leo and Sol outside the cafe, reviewing what a good season it had been, Leo saying she shouldn't have stayed away so long. She had never dreamed that he would back her up after he found out what happened in the backcountry. Typical of Leo, he'd dealt with the situation and moved on. She'd followed suit and told him she might be convinced to help on the photography trip next year. But she was very clear in her plan to have a full-time job by then.
She had heard Sol's voice telling her not to be a stranger, and felt the strong clap on her shoulder before he shuffled off. She'd miss them, but they would no longer hold any power over her.
”Kristine? That you?”
”Yep. Hope you're ready for Gabe's appet.i.te. He's right behind me.”
Her mother joined her in the kitchen and gave her a tight hug. She wore a long dress with a sweater b.u.t.toned over it. Her shoulder-length hair, a shade lighter than Kristine's, was pulled back at the nape of her neck with a leather stick barrette. ”Well? Was it worth it?”
”It was.” Kristine reached in the cupboard for a gla.s.s and filled it with water before turning back to her mother. ”I hate that it had to involve Gabe.”
”Of course you do, but he'll get over it. The bigger question is whether you will, too.”
Kristine smiled. ”I think so. I feel good. Different.”
”You look different, lighter somehow.”
”Yeah, I think I know what a mule feels like carrying empty bags.”
Her mother laughed. ”You sound just like your father. He's working with the two-year-olds in the round corral.”
Kristine did not move to join him. ”Now that I'm back in civilization, I want to go through my mail, check and see if there are any new job listings.”
”Of course,” her mother said hugging her again. ”The stack is in your room.”
Kristine nodded. During the summer, she checked her email weekly up in Mammoth but had her mother open any mail sent to the house. Since she'd agreed to call if any letter of interest came in and hadn't ever called, Kristine knew the stack on her desk was all rejections. Another bonus of working away from the ranch all summer: she didn't have to face the mailbox every day and could simply tally all of them in one sitting.
She spent several hours cataloging the rejections and adding the jobs she had applied for while she was in Mammoth, most of which were teaching positions she'd sought after the success of the photography trip.
During dinner, they recounted the highlights of the summer, with Gabe doing much of the talking. Kristine said little, reflecting on how many of the highlights included Gloria. She was similarly quiet while they fed the stock after dinner, her father catching them up on what he'd done with the new foals, the yearlings, the two-year-olds, noting the state of the fields. Normally, Kristine would have asked questions, made mental notes on where to get started. Instead, she felt the same detachment that she did leaving the Lodge. She felt no guilt about these animals being her father's project, and not hers.
After stomping their boots at the door, her father headed for his den. ”Kristine, let's go over the books. We need to start thinking about what to do with the broodmares in the spring.”
He cast his words like a rope meant to pull her in. She looked down, expecting to find the loop that would yank her off her feet. She'd felt her whole life s.h.i.+ft in the last few weeks, yet he continued as if she hadn't been gone at all. She retrieved her computer from her room and met him in the den.
”Still bugging me about going digital, huh?” he grumbled.
”No. I have some incredible shots from Mono I want you to see.”
”Still carrying that camera around,” he said, his voice tired. ”What in G.o.d's name were you doing out there?”
”I had a day off and Gloria invited me to go with her.”
”Ah.” She thought she saw the edge of his lip curl toward a smile. ”Still chasing girls, too.”
She thought about his statement, thought about the whole summer spent with Gloria. ”No,” she answered honestly. ”Not chasing anymore.”
”What does that mean? She means something to you?”
”Yes. She's taking over the Fish and Wildlife field office in Eureka, so I put in an application for a teaching job over there. It's part-time, but it's in photography. I'm still waiting to hear from them.”
”No sense in taking a job across the state that you could have here at the community college. We need to start working with the yearlings. You know Gabe doesn't have the knack for it you have.”
”You could get students from the equine training program to help you. It would be good experience for them.”
”You're out of your mind. No one knows these animals like you do. You know their mamas and have trained their siblings. The college can't teach that.”
”The important thing is that these kids are a hundred percent set on training as a career. They've got their whole heart into it, and I don't.”
”How long do you expect this to last? You go to this town for this girl and work a job with no guarantees? It's just another seasonal job that could be gone anytime. A job like that'll make you start to doubt yourself. Job like that is like a burr under the saddle. It'll get you squirrely enough to get to bucking.”
Kristine tried to keep her expression neutral and not show her frustration. She had grown up on these metaphors and no longer fought being compared to the animals that their family raised and loved. The best way to deal with her father was to join him in the metaphor.
”You're a.s.suming that she's putting this saddle on me, and you're forgetting that a saddle isn't permanent. But at least I'm in it, riding through instead of sitting out.”
Her father considered her words. She knew that he was studying her, shaping her up. The more she talked, the more information he gathered, and he'd use it all to push her where he wanted her to go. Guide the energy and make the horse think it's his idea had been one of his mainstays. He rubbed at his bottom lip with his thumb, something he always did when thinking hard, and Kristine sat across from him. For the first time in her life, she was conversing with him as an equal.
”You think that I'm trying to talk you out of going. I'm not,” her father said. Kristine blinked in surprise, never expecting her father to say that. ”You think I'm keeping you here on the ranch, but you've always kept yourself here. I wanted you to be sure about your decision to pursue photography, and I thought you were when you paid for graduate school in Santa Cruz. But then you came back here. I thought maybe you'd find your own direction when you went back to the Lodge this summer. You say this college job is part-time, but folks get comfortable. You do that. Look at how hard it is for you to leave Quincy. I don't want you to find yourself in the same place in a few years, looking for a way out of another job that isn't right for you and resent this Gloria. It's natural for you to resent me. That'll help you establish who you are. But if you resent your partner...well, then you're pretty screwed.”
She mulled over his words seriously, realizing how she had misinterpreted his parenting for so many years, always a.s.suming that he was trying to push her in the direction he wanted her to go. Now she saw that he had been showing her the open gates. In the round corral, there's a moment when the barriers between horse and human drop, when a horse lets down its guard and understands intuitively what the human has been trying to communicate. She finally understood.
With this new understanding, Kristine watched as her father studied the slideshow she'd put together from her best Mono Lake shots. With him intent on her photographs, she looked around his office, seeing it anew. She always felt like he was humoring her when he hung her images on the walls: Suzy-Q as a newborn, the foal framed by the mare, the image softened by morning mist; her father working a pair of Belgian mares in front of their red barn; a string of loaded mules crossing the Silver Divide on the John Muir Trail. It never occurred to her that he had hung them with pride. He pushed back from the computer, the love in his eyes confirming her realization before he issued a challenge. ”These are as good as anything you've ever shot. So what are you going to do? Waste your talent or do something with it?”
Chapter Thirty-Six.
”C'mon, boss,” Adam said. He was as trim as he had been when she'd interned at the field office during high school, but in the last few years, the hair on his head had migrated to the bushy beard on his face.
Gloria looked up from her desk piled high with papers she had yet to sort or make sense of. She smiled at the sa.s.s in his voice, relieved that taking over the office had not upset her former mentor.
”It's going to take more than a week to find any order in the mess Carl made of this place. Give yourself a break.”