Page 59 of The Banker and the Blue Collar Man

It took us another hour to get dressed and leave the bunkhouse after that, which I considered time well spent.

When we stepped out into the fullness of the afternoon, I imagined that we might go to the dining hall early, but that didn’t happen. The sun was lazy through the trees, a warm glow of yellow and white. Jake led me to the barn, though I tugged on his elbow to try to stop him.

“You’re not working,” I said.

“No, I’m not. Neither are you.”

That was fine by me, but it looked like he was getting ready to go back to work. We went through the main barn to the small paddock out back. Without even using his fingers, Jake whistled loud and hard.

Buddy came trotting up, black forelock flicking in the air, ears pricked, eager for whatever it was Jake wanted him for. Those horse cookies were still in the office in the barn, but Buddy didn’t seem to care. He only wanted to nuzzle Jake over the top of the wooden fence, to lip at his fingers and get pets in return.

“What are we doing?” I asked, mystified.

“Going for a walk.”

He had me grab a soft halter from the rack, and a lead. He slipped the halter on Buddy and led him out of the paddock and into the barn. Buddy’s hooves made soft click-clop sounds on the barn floor.

“Up you get,” Jake said.

“What?” I asked, feeling like a contestant who didn’t quite know what game show he was on as Jake bent forward and made a cup of his hands. The lead to Buddy’s halter trailed on the ground, forming a circle, like a snake.

“You get on Buddy,” Jake said, “and we’ll take a walk along Snow Creek. You ride, I’ll lead.”

This felt like make or break to me. My fear of horses had lessened, especially with Buddy, who seemed to like me well enough. I’d not had any riding lessons, though. I didn’t think I’d be brave enough, and yet here Jake was, expecting me to get on a horse bareback.

But then, this was Jake’s beloved Buddy. His baby. Jake trusted Buddy, so maybe I could, too.

I put my foot in the stirrup of Jake’s hands, and he helped me swing my leg over Buddy’s back. Settled me into place, onto the warm mass of horse, his hands on my thigh. The lead was on the barn floor, and still Buddy hadn’t moved.

Jake’s hands went to my waist, and I bent to kiss him. He looked up at me, and there was a smile in his eyes and on his mouth, as if, for the first time in his life, he had two of hisfavorite things in one place. Which meant that I, scaredy-cat city-boy Dalton, was one of those things. All good. This was all good.

“We’ll go slow,” he said. “It’ll be nice, you’ll see.”

There was no one around as we came out of the barn, me clinging to Buddy’s mane with both hands, my feet dangling. At least I was wearing blue jeans. Cowboy boots. Neither of us had a hat, but the sun was coming through the trees at a delicious angle of light and shadow such that it wouldn’t matter.

Buddy’s hooves scuffed up dust as we walked along the dirt road that ran through the ranch, then clopped across the wooden bridge over Snow Creek. He was enormous, and without a saddle I was surely going to slip off every other minute. But I didn’t.

The path along Snow Creek was a little more familiar to me now. I wasn’t distracted by the peaks of roofs beyond the trees that showed the location of the cabins for guests. I was fully focused on Jake. On the cords of muscle in his arms. Buddy’s lead dangled loosely in his hand. He wasn’t leading Buddy. Buddy was following the path, and Jake and I were along for the ride.

We reached the bend in the river where the glade of cottonwoods grew. The blanket was still there, tangled and wet. We’d forgotten to bring it back with us last time. Jake helped me slide off Buddy’s back and dropped Buddy’s lead on the grass.

I opened my mouth to protest that Buddy would wander off, and we’d have to walk back. Which we could do, but still. Why bring a horse all this way only to let him go?

“He’s ground-tied,” Jake said, as if he could sense my confusion.

And sure enough, Buddy bent his head, snapping at bits of green grass, and didn’t go anywhere. Jake found a soft patch of dry ground, and together we lay beneath the shadow of the trees.

My head was pillowed against Jake’s shoulder, his arm around me. A soft breeze wove around us, a scurry of cool air, the water in the creek a kind of lullaby, water over stones, a spray of mist in the air. Buddy cropped his grass, his head down, his black mane sifting along his neck, his black tail curling around his back legs.

Jake sighed and seemed to sink into the earth. “If this isn’t nice,” he said, “then I don’t know what is.”

His fingers trailed through my hair. I was warm, and everything was still, except for the water. Waxy, heart-shaped cottonwood leaves fluttering overhead. The scent of water. Birds landing on the branches.

I thought about those bats and the sunset and the mosquitoes, and closed my eyes and burned the moment into my memory.

Soon Snow Creek Ranch would be behind me. Jake would stay here. I would return to the city. And my life would go on as it always had, in its boring way that would eventually press the life out of me.

I sighed. Jake pressed a kiss to the top of my head. This was good. For now, it was good.