Free Call Me Crazy by Quinn Loftis, M Bagley Designs Page B

kids.”
    “Did you enjoy it?” I ask.
    She thinks about it for a second before answering.
    “Yeah I did. It was fun, and I really enjoy animals. Do you have a job?  She asks as she leans down and plucks a piece of dead grass from the ground. I watch in stupid fascination as her small hands play with the blade. Something so insignificant, and yet all I can think about it how I wish her hands were on me instead of the lucky little piece of grass.
    “I actually just got a job as a ranch hand.”
    Her face lights up and I feel my breath catch at the sudden ray of light that she has bestowed upon me.
    “So you get to be around horses and stuff?” She is nearly bouncing in her seat.
    I chuckle as I nod my head. “Yeah, but it’s not as glamorous as you are thinking. I will be mucking out their stalls.”
    “Still, you will get to see horses.” She says wistfully.
    “Have you never seen a horse?”
    She shakes her head. “Not up close. I mean I’ve seen them out in pastures when driving out in the country, but I’ve never gotten to touch one.”
    I realize then just how different our lives must have been growing up. I had grown up around horses. We had several on our reservation. In fact, horses were considered sacred to our tribe as they had served our people for generations, taking them through dangerous times and often saving them when traveling on foot would have meant death or capture.
    “Maybe I can take you out to the ranch. I’ll ask Mr. Taggert. I imagine he will be fine with it.” If I thought her face had been bright before, now it was practically glowing.
    “Really?”
    I raise my brow at her. “I told you, life is too short to pass up opportunities. When would you like to go?” Just as quickly as her face had lit up, it suddenly fell. Again I find myself wondering what I have said wrong.
    “Oh, well it will have to be later, maybe when summer is over.” She answers, again vaguely.
    I decide that I won’t push her now, maybe after we’ve known each other a little longer.
    “Alright, we can revisit it later.”
    She looks up, obviously surprised that I didn’t press her from more information. I watch as her shoulders relax.
    “So what’s your story?” She asks, her head turned slightly to the side and her forehead wrinkled in question.
    “What do you want to know?”
    “Well,” she begins, “you are obviously Native American,”
    “Obviously,” I interrupt with a crooked smile.
    She rolls her eyes at me. “What kind?”
    I let the humor I feel from her question show on my face as I lean back against the bench and stretch my arms across the back of it.
    “You mean what tribe?”
    “Um, well if that’s the correct way to ask, then yes, what tribe?”
    “I’m White Mountain Apache,” I tell her. “My tribe is in North Western Arizona.”
    “Wasn’t it hard to leave?”
    I think about it. I think about my friends and my family I left behind and realize that since I met Tally, I hadn’t missed them.
    “At first, yes,” I agree. “But not so much now.”
    “Are you about to make one of your, I’m not going to beat around the bush, statements?” Again I watch as heat floods her skin.
    “Does it bother you?” And I realize then that even if it does, I have no plans to change my approach. I don’t want her to have any question of my intentions.
    “It’s just different from most guys our age. They aren’t usually quite so bold.” She explains.
    “Most guys fear rejection.”
    Her eyes narrow at me. “And you don’t?”
    “There are worst things in life than rejection.” I see the moment that thoughts of my mother run through her mind as her face softens and her eyes drop.
    “Yes, there are.”
    Something in her voice catches my attention, and I realize that its knowledge and understanding. Tally has experienced something worse than rejection, but I don’t yet have the right to ask what that something is.
    “To answer your question, a certain girl has taken my mind