Free From Here to There by Rain Trueax Page B

keep a handle on his various enterprises while working at the isolated Rocking H, but with computer, fax, telephone, and a plane when he needed to fly out for a quick meeting, he thought he could manage. Dale Cranston, his assistant, had vehemently disagreed until Phillip sharply reminded him who was boss. A month or two wouldn't be catastrophic. He hoped.
     "So, you ready to ride with us?" Amos asked, slapping Phillip on the shoulder with good humor, obviously quite pleased with himself over his scheme, whatever that scheme was.
     "Ride?" Phillip asked. He looked back at his new truck.
     "Curly and I were just saddling up the horses. We were going to take a mosey up into the hills looking for a five or six missing steers. Tally came up short last week when we brought the main herd down from the summer range. You can dump your stuff into the bunkhouse and change while we finish saddling up."
     Phillip looked down at his new jeans, expensive suede leather jacket, and Justin boots. "Change into what?"
     Curly laughed derisively, more a cackle than an expression of humor. "I could tell he wasn't no cowhand. What's going on here, Amos?"
     "We'll talk about it while we ride," Amos said. "On second thought, I think Phil and I can scout the area out alone. Curly, why don't you drive into town for the salt blocks and vaccine."
     Curly snorted with derision but seemed relieved to escape Phillip's company and headed for Amos's truck.
     "It appears Curly doesn’t think much of me," Phillip understated.
     "He'll come around as he gets to know you."
     Phillip raised his eyebrows. "I take it from his laughter this isn't quite the clothing to wear riding."
     "The brush'd be the end of that jacket, assuming it was warm enough, which I doubt. High country gets nippy in the fall. Don't feel bad though. No way you could know that. Tell you what. I got a sheepskin lined coat Rafe left afore he headed off for Abilene. I think it'd fit you fine."
     Phillip shook his head with disbelief and a growing sense of unreality. He drove his truck down to park in front of the bunkhouse and unload his gear, wondering all the time what in hell was he doing. He'd ridden horseback all of two or three times in his life and then on a riding trail with an English saddle. He had no idea what rounding up cattle entailed, but it looked like he was about to find out. He tossed his expensive but evidently useless jacket over a wooden chair and gave the sparsely furnished bunkhouse a cursory look. He'd lived in worse places but hadn't expected to do it again.
     When Phillip got back up to the barns, Amos was sitting on his horse, holding the bridle for another mount, a tall horse that looked anything but friendly. Its ears were erect as it turned to watch Phillip with about the same level of mistrust Phillip felt.
     "This here's Sunshine," Amos said with a grin, transferring the reins to Phillip's hand. "We call him that for his disposition."
     "Is that anything like the same reason for Curly's nickname?" Phillip asked with a wry smile as he shrugged into the thick jacket Amos had thrown over the saddle.
     "How'd you guess?" Amos asked, kicking his own mount lightly in the side and leading off.
     
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     Seated at Nancy's round oak table, scratches and dents in its surface from seventy years of McGuire family's use, Helene might almost have forgotten a year had passed since she had visited with her friend. Might almost that is if Nancy's dominantly protruding stomach weren't a constant reminder of her approaching motherhood.
     "I wish I could have come to your wedding. I'd have loved being one of your bridesmaids or in my case I guess that would have had to be matrons!" Nancy laughed as she opened the oven door and took out two trays filled with oatmeal cookies. She tested their doneness with a fingertip before she took the spatula and began piling them on a cooling rack.
     "No airliner would have likely let you fly. Besides, you didn't miss much,"