Welcome to Patty Ann's
Paranormal Romance Reading
3 Book Bundled Set

 

Books are Presented in Their Entirety
Thank YOU & Enjoy!

 

By Patty Ann

 

Published by: Patty Ann at Smashwords
Copyright 2015 Patty Ann
ISBN 9781310158742

 

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This e book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author-publisher. Thank you.

 

Cowboy from Drewsey

An Oregon Outback Romance

 

By Patty Ann

 

Edited by Holly A. Phillips

 

Published by: Patty Ann

Copyright 2014 Patty Ann

 

 

Overview

 

A serious online relationship quickly turns tempestuous once Cairn meets Cliff. His home sits deep inside the rugged terrain of central eastern Oregon. Cowboy country challenges the city girl in Cairn, but she is determined to prove herself tough. When a drastic happenstance brings Cairn’s best friend, Kelly, to this tantalizing outback, serendipity unfolds. This is a heart felt story of second chances, renewal, and love. It is an encounter that can happen to anybody, even to you!

Cowboy from Drewsey

An Oregon Outback Romance

“Here is the one I was telling you about,” Cairn said as two workmates leaned over and looked onto her computer screen.

“Him? Are you kidding me? He is a bone-fide cowboy!” scoffed Doris, one of Cairn's office admins with a resounding attitude, yet she was a source of constant humor.

“Oh my dear Lord, look where he lives! Cairn, are you silly sick in your head? He lives in the middle of nowhere. They don't even have trees there, well barely any,” exclaimed Kelly, who was Cairn's closest workmate and best friend.

“Have a bit of adventure,” said Cairn, “Haven't you ever wanted to meet a real, boney-fide cowboy and ride the outback hand-in-hand? Kelly, shame on you. For crying out loud of all people, this is exactly your kinda living!”

“Are you yanking my chain? Cairn you've lost your mind over these online dating sites. Tell me this when you are sitting on an outdoor shitter at thirty below and not a single shred of ass wipe is in sight because your cowpoke didn't bother to get you none,” snorted Doris as she butt in once more.

“Well I don't know,” quipped Kelly. “Some of those cowboys are studs. It might be rather fun to ride one . . . I mean their stud . . . I mean ride a horse with them. Oh yahoo,” Kelly laughed out loud as she imitated a lope, and holding reins. Down the aisle she went back to her desk.

“Cairn, are the ladies bothering you again? Tell me something. You'd rather take a ride on a cowboy over a ride on the stock market roller coaster? I, for one, won't believe you,” the newly promoted office manager, Timothy, chimed in as he passed through, not even looking over to see the cowboy's profile.

Cairn resigned and shouted words after him, “You’re right Timmy. That's a tough trade-off. A strong, burly cowboy to protect me is no match to the excitement of speculation. Remind me when I ride off into the sunset to find him.”

And at that, everyone ran back to their cubicles where their phones were ringing off the hook. Stock market questions had a never-ending cycle. Lunch break soon came. Kelly was, once again, visiting Cairn's cubicle. This time, Kelly plunked herself down on a comfy short sofa across from Cairn.

“So, tell me more my dear friend. What's this with the cowboy? Is this a new fetish or what?” asked Kelly, who was typically sensible in every manner. Her choice of words even reflected her wardrobe of practical. Time honored outfits complimented functionally, but fun cowboy, or similar type boots. At five-foot five-inches, her medium frame was curvaceous, almost sexy. Her men dubbed her sensual, yet her girlfriends regarded her as smart and savvy. Kelly's auburn hair was a shoulder length accessory to be admired for both its body and its bounce. Her vibrant aqua eyes set off from a pert, small nose and ample lips were symmetrically almost perfect. Au natural Kelly's face never touched makeup. Unlike Cairn, Kelly was not smitten to seeking opera season tickets, donning the latest fashions, or shopping at top end label stores. Kelly was made of an earthy substance, and if caught in the dirt, could and would remained dignified and grounded. So naturally Kelly was curious with her friend’s latest conquest. The cowboy existence contrasted every last shred of Cairn's ideal lifestyle.

“Kelly, you know I've done this online dating for awhile,” Cairn said. “It's really hard to find a decent guy and the lord only knows how many local dates I've been on. In case you don't know, here's the scope. Guys post 20-year-old pictures and then wonder why your month drops open upon meeting them. They lie about everything online, from their single status to the job they have to the number of kids they got, to oh-by-the-way I'm only separated. Golly, it gets old. So I went looking elsewhere. To a place I believed had wholesome guys.” Cairn waved her hands sparkling with rings, and wrist jiggling bracelets.

“But, there are plenty of wholesome guys around Pittsburgh. I've met plenty!” enticed Kelly.

Cairn half interrupted, “Yes, but I must point out if that is the case, why are you still so very single? Anyway, let me carry on with my story... I was fed up. There are no men that we even work with that are attractive to me. I want different. I want honest to the bone, rugged, men out of the movies dynamic. So I signed up for an online rancher site and immediately started emailing and chatting with some of the guys. They were nice—no B.S.-type of nice.”

“Cairn, I hate to point out the obvious, but you don't ride horses,” Kelly grinned.

“That is the least of it. I can learn. Can't be much to it... is there?” Cairn questioned. “That cowboy I showed you on my computer screen, well, he and I have been emailing for a couple months. He has even called me a number of times too.”

“No. No way. You little hustler you,” kidded Kelly, holding back a smirk of a smile. “Tell me more.”

“The long and short of it is, he wants me to come stay with him this summer for a few weeks,” Cairn said thoughtfully, then looked for her best and older friend's approval.

“Say what? Go stay in the outback, ride horses—or him, be his cowgirl?” questioned Kelly thoughtfully in a pause. “Go for it Cairn. I mean it. If anyone deserves a wee bit o happiness and adventure it's you.” Still sitting, Kelly stuck her hands on her hips, tapped her toe, and nodded her head in approval. “Giddy up lil cowgirl!”

For an upscale premier stock manager who loved the city life, Cairn was stepping up to a new challenge, one she was not sure she was even capable of. However, new people and new places to conquer was Cairn's idea of an entertaining sport. She reckoned this would be no different than lassoing a new client and getting him to succumb.

Cairn’s persona fit the high society mold. Lanky and lithe, she stood at five-foot nine. She loved to wear dresses that draped with dramatic flare. Unlike Kelly's fun footwear, Cairn wore stilettos as her norm. Outrageous fashions, loud adornments, and a penchant for the new and usual enchanted Cairn in her wardrobe and in her life choices. One thing Cairn did acknowledge was that finally she had the income to shop prestige and she was grateful for that. Her comment to others scrutiny was, “Why not buy big?”

Cairn's milky white, sensitive to sun skin was out of the pages of Vogue. Her high cheekbones, long slight nose and Mona Lisa lips with intense almond cat eyes, gave Cairn a reminiscent appeal to ancient Egyptian characteristics. In contrast, Cairn's hair by nature was a brilliant orange with a distinct red tint. Straight bodied, the sides hung as Cleopatra’s, a little above her shoulders. But her crown was a strewn with shorter spikes of various lengths, some of which stood tall then flopped down to melt into the rest of her hairline. Despite her image of perfection, Cairn's hair was a studio-cutting mistake. Yet, Cairn went with her disorderly hairstyle, incorporating it into her flair for the odd. She reasoned that her hair would grow out soon enough. Cairn decided she liked being a mix of extreme punk, adorned with sophistication to keep her clients guessing which one she represented.

Kelly and Cairn, both key brokers with their own teams, garnered some of the most influential clients in Pittsburgh. Their spacious, corner cubicles reflected their worth to their brokerage firm where they had each resided for more than half a dozen years. Handsome and single, Timothy had been Kelly and Cairn's coworker. A phenomenally astute broker himself, he was recently promoted to floor managing director. Although his position triumphed over Kelly and Cairn's positions, they regarded Timothy as still their supportive peer and teammate. Not only were the girls happy to have Timothy as their supervisor, but they were proud that his hard work paid off in a promotion.

At thirty-nine pushing forty Cairn was getting restless. Growing up on “Leave It To Beaver” reruns kept her belief alive that by now, she should have settled down. Maybe even had some children, although the thought of changing diapers made her stomach wretch. One day a decade ago, Cairn offered to relieve a friend who needed a babysitter for her 8-month-old son. When the day ended, Cairn swore off ever having children. The baby had some blowouts. After multiple diarrheas, and a couple baths to clean up, Cairn's Walt Disney illusions were washed right down the drain.

As for Cairn's lifestyle, she worked. There was no room for any other activity. She did not have to put in sixty-hour work weeks, but she wanted to because she loved her job. Actually, what she really loved was watching the figures in her own portfolio grow. It had become a game. Consequently, the extent of Cairn's outdoor life was walking the sidewalks to bring back the mail. Or the paved parking lots of the supermarkets. She could not remember the last time she sat on grass, or even, god forbid, put her hands into dirt. By all means, Cairn would admit and laugh at the fact that she was a complete and total city slicker.

Cowboy Lookin'

Why Cairn began looking for a cowboy even mystified her. It probably started with a fantasy of a different lifestyle other than hers. Captivating a man that was not in her league, and perhaps a guy that was somehow less than her equal intrigued her. That way she could stay on top, which suited her competitive edge. Hitting upon the right online dating site was paramount to hitting jackpot with the men. After being on this site for a month and chatting with too many losers, as Cairn believed them to be, she darn near gave up. If it weren't for this one picture that kept calling to her, she would have canceled her account.

The cowboy was jeering at Cairn. At least she thought so. He sat back easily, which dispelled a cocky confidence. Wearing a cowboy hat, his black hair peaked out from underneath. His hair was clean cut and cropped tight. His bushy eyebrows as they were, his mustache all black, and neither had any intermittent premature gray hairs yet. His mustache was coupled with one of those oh-so-sexy soul patches. For the rest was a well-shaved beard, but it was apparent the beard needed daily shaves. It was heavy. The cowboy's eyes danced. Coal black, they pierced through dimensions and asked for an interaction from beyond. Crows’ feet formed and wicked out from his eyes as a result of a broad grin. Shiny white teeth set in a pair of pale thin lips were all in tact. Not a crooked nose, but one with character defined his high cheek-bones and his strong jawline. The cowboy walked straight out of a romance novel.

To define the cowboy's character by a single screen shot, Cairn would say he was a bit of a handful, tough, unbending, but kind hearted and a straight shooter. That was not necessarily what he wrote in his profile, in fact, he wrote things that did not appeal to Cairn at all. Such as he had four boys of various ages, and that he was many years divorced, but he and his ex-wife were amicable. That his wish was to find a mate that would come live on his farm and contribute to his livelihood. That he had a very naughty side, Cairn automatically assumed he meant sexually speaking. That his ranch was out in the middle of nowhere. The nearest town an hour plus away. That he desired his mate to ride well, mend fences, herd cows, even brand, cook supper, and keep a clean house.

Tall order this cowboy demanded. Sounded like a mail order bride who was deaf, dumb, and dumber might apply. All these taunting attributes and yet Cairn kept sneaking a peak at his profile every now and again. Finally she sent a flirt. And she got one back. She sent another flirt. Again, he returned the favor. This went on for two weeks. Cairn looked to her in box each day, in hopes another note was left. She was never disappointed. Finally the cowboy made the first move with a real email. It read: Hi, my name is Cliff. I'd really like to just pick up the phone and talk to you. If that is acceptable please leave your phone number for me, and the best time to call you. Thanks.

All these months on different dating sites and here, for the first time, was someone with forthright intentions asking to talk to Cairn. So many wanted to hide behind endless emails, which always ended. These were the games of egos that needed a boost. Many men were married, entertaining themselves, or otherwise wasting girls’ time. Cairn had a three-week limit for emails. If they didn't want to get serious and call by then, she figured after that then they were fakes among the many. So here on this guys first email to Cairn a phone chat was proposed. Both elated, yet scared, Cairn pondered it for two days. Then she sent her phone number to Cliff.

The initial call was polite and full of niceties. They both enjoyed the conversation, all the while Cairn kept thinking: Where can this go? We are miles apart in lifestyles and proximity. And yet, when Cliff called a second, third, and fourth time, then began regular time and place call sessions, Cairn began to fantasize. Thoughts of vacationing to another place far from her world started to seem doable. It was only a plane ride, a bus ride, and a train ride away. Or, she could just get in her car and go for a long cruise. How many days would it take to get from her house to the middle of Oregon? Four days, maybe five? The more they talked the more the world seemed easy again. No cares just banter back and forth like friends-to-be-lovers do. Cliff, in his desolate life, craved a female partner again. The pickings were few in his neck of the woods. Cairn needed conversation outside her work and a new friendship that might take her away from everything she knew into the unknown. Both Cliff and Cairn had one thing in common: unmet needs.

Soul Recovery

A week later, Kelly found Cairn staring out her office window to nowhere as her phone rings went unanswered. Perky Kelly always punctual cut into to Cairn's far off thoughts, “Hello Missy Cairn Fells, earth to Ms. Fells, do you read?”

Cairns swirled around in her chair and blankly stared at Kelly and said, “I am going to see my cowboy. Yes. I am going to take a leave of absence for awhile and do something out of character for me.”

“No!” exclaimed Kelly, “You can't just saunter off into the sunset... look at yourself. You can't even get your hands dirty. You don't wear jeans. Do you know where you are going? It's primitive out there!”

“Yes. Yes, I know. I need to do something new, novel. Somewhere along the way and I don't know where, I lost my soul. Now I aim to recover it.”

“Did I hear trauma in the square to oval office?” Timothy barged in. “Cairn your paperwork is approved for a leave. You deserve this with my blessing. Leave begins tomorrow actually,” with a large grin, Timothy strode off down the aisle with his lanky long legs.

“No!” Kelly echoed. “What am I going to do without you here, my dear sweet friend?”

“Kelly, I am only on leave for a month. You'll live. And there are cell towers out in the boon docks, so call me!” Cairn stated the obvious as she cleaned up her desk, as if never to return.

Just then Doris, all fat and sassy, came by to add her two cents, which was worth only a half a penny. “Well, well, if the cowgirl don't ride. I give you three days in the saddle Cairn, before you were wishing you were right back here riding this here chair. Does the cowboy even know that you've never ridden a horse?”

“Back at ya sweet Doris. I'll send you pictures via my phone. Don't underestimate my grit. You'll see,” Cairn battered her eyes in the direction of Doris. What a pill Cairn thought.

Saddle Up, Ride the Road

The interstate was the quick, easy way, Cairn decided. She figured about five nights in a motel, each that served a continental breakfast, plus a couple of rest stops along the route would suffice. Along with gas fill ups, Cairn would find herself in cowboy country in no time.

For the most part, the roads looked fine. Depending on the pace set, the approximately 2300 miles were doable for sure. But there was some question about the final directions off I-20 in east central Oregon. Something about looking for a hand written “Cafe” sign off the west side of the highway. Then take the dirt road downward and follow it to the small roadhouse eatery. This would be the destination where Cliff, her cowboy, would pick her up.

Never did Cairn get a picture of Cliff's ranch, let alone his horses, cattle, or the surrounding terrain. Cairn had been so enamored with their three times a week phone calls that she failed to ask the important questions. What if she drives all the way to see Cliff and his physical self repulses her?

Talking on the phone is like the Internet. A person can put up a good facade, but really have nothing to offer thereafter. Maybe Cliff's smooth talking voice was a snare to entrap sex from Cairn. The bottom line was, would her online perceptions measure up? Would she be attracted to Cliff, and perhaps most importantly would he be smitten with her—or her to him? With the miles ahead, Cairn had much to mull over.

The first night in a five star hotel left Cairn questioning her choice of money well spent. Yes, it was a nice place to stay. Worth the money? No. Not because it was not a great place with a breakfast to die for. No, because Cairn only slept in the room six-hours, spent another hour at breakfast and was gone. Cairn had always relished posh spots but the price tag to stay at this resort for only a seven-hour stay did not make sense. Tonight would be different. She would grab a place along the freeway that had a sign hanging out with a cheap sticker price. Cairn rather shuddered at the thought, and then reasoned for all the money she would save she could buy a really great breakfast somewhere else.

Cruising along in her two-year-old, all-wheel drive Subaru, Cairn settled in for a long day's drive. Her phone rang. Cairn pressed the on light to the built in, hands free car system.

“Do you miss me sitting beside you, giving you grief?” Kelly teased.

“Of course not,” Cairn teased back. “Gosh it's only been what? A few hours since I left?”

“Well someone has to check up on you, and that would be my job.”

“Kelly, I do miss you and I'm going to let you in on every single detail as I live this trip,” Cairn paused for a bit. “Kelly, the road—this road is making me ponder things, too many things. Tell me honestly. Do you think I'm nuts to just pick up to go meet a cowboy out in the middle of No-where's-ville?”

“I don't know Cairn. I will say it scares me a bit, but you've been talking to the guy for a while and have gotten a good feel for him, right? I trust your judgment. It has always been solid. I'm thinking, go for it. After all, you are a third of the way there by now,” Kelly talked some sense into Cairn.

Cairn said, “I suppose you are right. You know what I think? I think you should be going to this place instead of me, Kelly. You are actually made for this outback cattle country.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kelly.

“Well, you are a better fit for it. I know I am rambling, but here me out. First you have the athletic build. Look at me. I'm lanky, willowy, I have no substance. Your body is strong, solid, sharp, and focused. You do things; accomplish outdoor stuff, with a purpose. Remember when I visited you on your grandma's farm?” Cairn quizzed.

“Ah, yeah. So where are you going with this thought?” Kelly asked.

“I never told you, but I was amazed at the farm girl in you. I get there and you had just finished digging post-holes, setting twelve posts, and nailing a three rail fence to complete a small corral for your grandma. Who does that? I certainly don't, can't, and won't,” Cairn revealed.

Kelly was amused, and stated, “Really you were that impressed?”

“Oh, impressed doesn't cover it. I admired your grit. And you had the look. In those faded blue jean overalls, and plaid shirt with long sleeves rolled up. And, there was a bit of dirt wiped across your tan face. More than that, you wore a ratty straw cowboy hat with a red bandana around the brim. Your long auburn hair was stuffed up under the hat, but it wasn't staying. Long strands flowed around your face. And your crystal blue eyes were alive, like your were dancing with life. Your perky perfect nose and voluptuous lips, man for the first time in my life I was jealous of you. You were a portrait waiting to be on a magazine cover for sexy farm girls. ”

“Cairn, I'm stunned at your memory recall. Absolutely stunned. You really saw me as a model?” Kelly asked.

“I don't know how to describe capturing that moment. Perhaps it was more about me than you, but your ease and candid relaxation with the farm there kind of swept me up. I really thought that was where you belonged, on your grandparent's farm, or any farm. You were in your element. As for me, it made me realize that we all have our calling. We all best suit where we need to be. I've thought of that moment many times. I don't know why I never said anything to you. Maybe it was not the right time, until now,” Cairn admitted.

“Wow, I'm so glad you said something to me. I never knew that was inside you waiting to come out. Thank you my dear friend Cairn. Yeah, I do love the farm life. I will admit it. Guess I could never figure out how to make a living at it. The numbers always came easy to me, so here I am at the brokerage firm,” Kelly stated thoughtfully. “You know Cairn, if you are having reservations about your online lover fling, don't. It's not forever, only for a few weeks. And you have your car and can drive off in any direction if it doesn't suit you. So enjoy yourself.”

Cairn said in earnest, “Oh, I intend to soak up every ounce of energy out of this vacation. And, yes, I will give the cowboy a good chance. He does sound to be decent, otherwise I would not be traveling all these miles across nowhere to see him.”

“Good,” Kelly paused. “Hey listen, I need to get back to work. I'm on my lunch and still need to eat. So hugs and kisses to you and we'll keep in touch, okay?"

After a rather long 550-mile day Cairn took the first motel right off the freeway. She figured there were a number of cars parked outside, which like a good restaurant, must mean it's decent. Definitely, a down grade from her first night, but the room and bed were clean. It would suit her purpose to crash for the night. The place boasted breakfast served between 7 and 9am each morning. The next morning came too early and Cairn was inclined to get a cup of coffee. Instead, to her surprise a complete spread of fruits, bagels, hotcakes, sausage and bacon, and all the trimmings of breakfast were laid out. So Cairn indulged thinking these off-road motels weren't such a bad bargain after all.

Another day ahead, and Cairn was in her car heading west by 8am. Car trips she had in the past were short ones. This one already was getting old, and she reminded herself that she was going to have to drive it all the way home again. Turning on the tunes, setting the speed to cruise control, kicking off her shoes, and hydrating with her water bottle, helped Cairn to get set for the ride.

Cliff, her cowboy called her the night before.

“Just wondering how you are getting on?” he asked. “Just want to make sure you didn't sneak out on me, is all.”

“I'm good. Thank you for calling Cliff. I'm just really road weary and tired, so I'm settling in for the night,” Cairn explained, hoping she did not come off too curt, but hoping she didn't have to talk to him either. “Cliff, would you mind if we chatted tomorrow from the road? I'm just so beat right now, that I can't think straight.”

“Oh. I see. Sure honey I understand. Hey, I want your first night here special. Do you like a New York cut or a prime rib?” Cliff cheerfully chatted on. He was really anticipating Cairn's visit.

Cairn was wondering how to say the next thing when she knew she was going to cattle country. “Well, I'm not to keen on beef Cliff, sorry. I appreciate your effort. I'll tell you what, don't go to any trouble for food. I'll just bring a bunch and we'll figure it out from there. Does that sound okay?”

“Uh, sure, fine. Darn that cow strayed off on the hill. Honey, I'll call you later,” then Cliff hung up.

Cairn thought it strange, but logic told her that Cliff was calling from atop his horse while driving cattle. Shrugging her shoulders, Cairn figured ranch life to probably be always problematic. No matter to her. It was not her world, only one to visit then leave. Really she wondered why she was going there when truthfully, the only possible attraction was maybe a roll in the hay with a cowboy. Kinda self-centered and Cairn was the first to admit to that. But she had no shame and drive on she did.

Circus Town

Along the freeway corridor, Cairn spotted signs for an authentic tent circus today and tomorrow. Now Cairn had never even heard of such a thing so curiosity made her drive up to the parking lot where a huge cream colored tent loomed large. She was mystified, as if an alien ship had just landed before her very eyes.

“Miss, oh miss, you can get tickets for tomorrow's performance over there,” a clown on stilts pointed to the entrance of the ticket booth. Except for a few clowns, apparently all of them soliciting customers like Cairn, the parking lot was vacant.

Cairn naturally found herself at the ticket counter where another clown in red and green greeted her. “We only have one performance that is not sold out sweetie. It's tomorrow at 1pm. Have you ever been too a big tent circus sweetie?” Cairn shook her head no and the clown behind the counter explained, “Our circus is primary animal acts. These animals do incredible feats and it is all natural training. No negative reinforcement is used. Best yet, our proceeds go to help animal welfare organizations. Can I get you a ticket? We have rows four, eight, and fourteen open. This is a great seat in row four for only $27.50. Will that be just one for you?”

Before Cairn knew it, she was holding a ticket to the performance for the next day. She had only driven 200 miles that day and now she was stuck here until probably 4pm the next day. Well, she shrugged her shoulders believing it was her vacation and she could spend it any way she saw fit. And tomorrow, she was going to see a bunch of animals do some spectacular feats.

Cairn found another cheap motel down a corridor of other cheap places to crash. How to pick one from another got difficult and then what did it matter anyway when it was only sleeping time? Cairn went out and found an equally cheap eatery, and had a cheeseburger. It looked to attract the circus clowns, as the place crawled with every color of hair and costume imaginable. Cairn thought her hairdo must have fit right in. She picked up her order and left. In truth, clowns made Cairn uncomfortable. She did not get why anyone would want to dress up and play act in such a ridiculous manner. And, she did not see the irony in her thinking when she went to work in equally gaudy outfits. Except that Cairn regarded her clothing as style, far from the pretense of a circus.

The next day as Cairn waited in the ticket holders line her phone rang. It was Kelly. “Hey, Cairn, how's it going? Okay I'll get right to the point. Doris got herself fired for embezzlement! Can you imagine that?”

“No kidding. The witty witch got hers. Well, good,” Cairn spoke emotionless. Just then her line began to move. “Hey Kelly, I am going into a circus right now. I need to call you back...”

“A what? A circus?” Kelly was amused as her voice got cut off as Cairn ended the call.

And the show went on. Act after act of dogs, horses, tigers, bears, birds, and even kitty cats performed tidy trained feats of courage. After an hour, Cairn got bored with what seemed laborious wonder acts. Cairn had not been raised with any animals, owned none, so she had no appreciation of their spirit. For a non-animal lover, a circus of this nature was difficult to sit through. Cairn's seat was center spotlight. She could not just get up and go without great notice. She had another hour of suffering. As she saw it good road time was being wasted sitting under this tent.

Just then cowboys and Indians raced into the circus circle riding gallant horses. Cairn perked up looking at a certain cowboy, assessing his get up and wondering if that was what Cliff looked like out there on his range. Scrutinizing the saddle, Cairn wondered if she was going to have to figure out how to attach one to a horse. It just dawned on her that maybe she was already in over her head.

The show went until almost five. Cairn questioned whether to drive two hours then turn into a motel or just stay put in this Podunk town one more night. Cairn opted to stay put where she knew motels were plentiful. And even though this was a vacation, Cairn decided that this day in tent hell was a complete and utter waste. Much to her chagrin, Cairn found herself back at the same burger joint again with a bunch of undignified buffoons donning costumes. Once more, she would again take her food out and back to the same flea bitten motel for the night. At that Cairn vowed if she had to stay in that town one more night thereafter, she swore she would lose control and rant unrestrained rhetoric at the next carnival misfit.

After a night too long, on the road once again, Cairn just zoned out. She was feeling antisocial. No calls to Cliff or Kelly today unless they called in. There was too much time to make up from yesterday. To this point, Cairn figured she had gone about thousand miles, which meant another thirteen hundred to go. This could turn into two very long days or three shorter ones. Cairn figured there would be more side trips advertised along the road so if another came up it might be a great way to break up the road miles. And just then her phone rang. Thank goodness for speaker-phones.

“Hi honey, just wanted to see how you are getting on,” Cliff's voice asked.

“Oh, good, good. I went to a circus yesterday under a big tent. It was all about animals,” Cairn relayed.

Cliff was chuckling then said, “Really? That sounds fun. Wish I had been there with you.”

“Fun? Depends on what you call fun. After two plus hours it was torture on my ass,” Cairn spoke plainly with a twist of sarcasm.

Cliff laughed. “Honey you crack me up, really you do. So when do you think you'll get here? What day?”

“Well, I have some miles to go still. I think maybe 3 or 4 more days. Just don't know,” Cairn said.

“Say what? Three or four more days? You could be here by tomorrow, just put your foot on it,” Cliff sounded exasperated.

“No, I don't drive like that, Cliff. I want to get to you in one piece and safely,” Cairn stated bluntly.

“Oh, okay. I understand. Well, can you give me a call when you are one day out, so I know when to expect you?” Cliff pleaded. Then he explained, “I might be out on a cattle drive when you come that is why I want your time frame. So when you come just go to the cafe I told you about and tell anyone there you are looking for me and they will find me. I'll come get you, got it?”

“Okay, I'll do that Cliff. Got to go now. Bye,” Cairn cut the conversation short for lack of any good reason other than the closer she got to Cliff the more she felt hedged in. Somehow, Cairn felt like one of Cliff's cattle being roped into a chute without cause. Yes, this was going to be a challenge to pander to another person's lifestyle, which obvious would continue on when she was there. How was she suppose to fit in, when she knew she so clearly did not? With each road mile closer the more apprehensions Cairn harbored.

That afternoon Kelly called to check in. When the two girls got together, hours of conversation would engulf them. Talk would consume them as if they hadn't spoken for months. Good, best friends were like that. So a couple hours of driving were whisked away by Cairn and Kelly laughing, joking, and talking as old school friends would. Kelly's call to check in boosted Cairn's reticence over her out of character drive to Drewsey, wherever that was. Good, best friends always provided you with the moral support sorely needed.

The day ended in yet another motel. Now these cheap, lifeless, bedrooms were growing old. Cairn was not use to this kind of travel and regretted she did not go by airplane instead. But she was stuck in this travel mode and determined to make the best of it. Tomorrow was another day.

Under the dim bed lamp light in her rented room, Cairn spent hours studying her road map. There was one all-too-enticing attraction that perked her interest. Namely Yellowstone National Park. It was way to the north of her direct route. Visiting time needed to be figured in. Yet, it was doable. And so, another few days would be added to Cairn's travel itinerary. Since she was a kid whenever Cairn heard the mention of 'Yellowstone Park' she had an urge to go see it. The park was calling her. So in the option of fun and to be an ultimate explorer Cairn spent the next days traveling to and from Yellowstone Park, and being a tourist inside its boundaries.

Call of the Wild

After a trip to the visitors’ center and buying tourist books, Cairn was loaded with trips and trails to investigate within the park. Never was Cairn so in awe of what nature provided. Especially as she stood in front of Old Faithful spouting off for the millionth time. When it was done, Cairn tingled as if her body for the first time was connecting to something much larger and outside of herself. She thought it might be akin to some sort of spirit experience, but she did not know. She had no reference to go by. Within that minute her phone rang.

“So how's the cowboy?” Kelly asked with a prod.

“Huh?” Cairn took a minute to recompose and reenter the world that she left off. Then she said, “Um, I'm actually standing here in Yellowstone National Park. And you want to know where I am exactly? In front of Old Faithful! I just saw it blow its top. Incredible Kelly. This is as close to a religious experience that I've had.”

“What? Really? No cowboy, only spouting steamy water?” Kelly laughed hysterically. She could not fathom Cairn's sense of direct. “So tell me more Cairn.”

Cairn relaxed and simply said, “There is really nothing to tell. I just was called to do this side trip and so here I am. It's pretty awesome Kelly. This land and what nature gives back. I believe the concrete of the city has blocked something fundamental in me, like my roots to our indigenous past. The quality of life here is something to breath in. Kelly, I now see what you see in all those nature books you read, and your weekend jaunts in the mountains. When I return I'd like to try doing days hikes with you, if that would be okay?”

“Geez Cairn, this trip has already been an opening to your soul. That is so terrific and of course it would be wonderful having you hike with me. I'd love it!” Kelly said.

“Kelly, I'll call you later. My cowboy is calling in... probably wondering where I am. So I got to get this call. Bye my dear friend,” Cairn then switched the calls and said, “Hi, cowboy Cliff. How's it going today?”

“Well, for one it is nice to hear your voice. And for two, where the hell are you? I thought you'd be driving up my road by now,” Cliff asked with an edge to his voice.

“I'm actually, uhhhh, in Yellowstone Park,” said Cairn, pleased as punch with her independent streak.

“Ahhh shit, you are where?” Cliff said in a perturbed voice. “I don't know what to say. I'm disappointed. I thought you were coming to see me. Are you?”

“Of course I am coming to see you. You are my number one attraction, Cliff. It's just that I've never been on a road trip. I mean never, ever. And Yellowstone Park has always been on my bucket list. And so here I am. It'll only be another day or two. Promise no more side trips,” Cairn reasoned and almost pleaded for mercy.

Cliff was silent for a bit, and then stated, “OK, I guess I get that. Enjoy your trip. Take more time if you need to. Sounds like you are having a bit of freedom from your boxed in life, so with my blessings, have fun.”

Cairn breathed a sigh of relief, “Cliff, you are the best. Really. I am not so sure many guys would put up with me. I will admit sometimes I am random.”

“Yeah, well, don't push a good thing. I do have my boundaries too,” Cliff spoke in a lighter tone. “Cairn, just remember what I told you when you come. I will be on the range until late, so just go to the cafe to find me. My cell phone might even be off. Anyway, wanted to touch base with you. I gotta git going. Bye babe.”

“Okay, bye... oh, Cliff,” Cairn spoke.

“Yeah?”

“I think I could fall for you,” Cairn said.

“Ya? Huh. Now there's a thought worth exploring,” Cliff laughed, then hung up.

Cairn felt good inside. She had not totally blown Cliff off out of selfish intention. Admittedly, Cairn had a knack for sales that she used when acquiring new friendships. She was charismatic amid manipulative. The lord only knows how self-centered Cairn could be at times. She tried with the best of intentions to be more giving and less selfish, but the truth was Cairn was self-serving. She knew it and most of her friends knew it. She always marveled how Kelly was so forgiving of her slights. Kelly had endless patience to put up with her tardiness, forgetfulness, and moments of self-serving indulgence. Cairn, regarded and loved Kelly as a sister—a family member that was eternally bound by devotion to her. Kelly knew Cairns faults, but saw past her flaws and took no offense. Cairn made no excuse for who she was, and was not too likely to change for anyone. Cairn accepted her indulgences for what they were, made no fuss, and then moved on.

For two days, Cairn wandered around the park. She followed in the footsteps of all the highlights offered. She dared to wander outside the park into more remote areas. Cairn was thankful that her all-wheel drive Outback was stealthy enough to handle any road condition. Sometimes, Cairn would pull over and sit in a quiet spot, pull out her favorite read, the Wall Street Journal and study it cover to cover. She was never too far from her job calling. Once, Cairn looked up to see a mother bear and her twin cubs cross in a pasture downwind from her. Frozen still holding her paper, Cairn just stared in awe. Here she was really out in the wild. She reasoned to keep still as the group would surely spot her if she moved. This was a good choice as they moved on their way as quickly as they arrived.

Cairn began to connect to the earth. This was something that was foreign to her. For the minimal time Cairn spent in the park, she began to see another world that seemed more real than the one she left a week earlier. The vibrant wild flowers, the talking, babbling brooks, the springs of hot, blue, surreal waters, the abundant wildlife, all of these gestures of nature touched Cairn. She even spent her nights in the lodge. Typically booked up, but a canceled reservation made way for a vacant room for her. Sleeping in this well preserved creaky lodge provided another avenue for the nature nurturing that Cairn was beginning to crave.

When Cairn had had her fill, when she could hear in her mind Cliff's urgent voice, and her inner clock alarm rang 'enough', Cairn packed her wagon up, looked around once last time, and left. South she traveled in a state of calm and bliss. She had just left something much larger than herself, but gained a part of herself back that she didn't know she lost. She smiled thinking to herself; even selfish people are entitled to having a soul.

Her GPS indicated there were about nine hours of travel to meet her destination. Should she go for it today? No. Plus Cairn did not want to get to a place in the middle of nowhere in the dark. As she drove south, the Tetons Mountains loomed impressively magnificent. Yes, this was another gem to explore and experience just for a bit. Time was a factor now. Somewhere outside of the Tetons heading west Cairn had an urge to pull over and stretch her legs.

Chief Insights

The stretch of road she was on was a side street of sorts. It looked to be the old way across the country. It was still a working and viable byway and used regularly. There were some spurs off this road. Cairn took a decent gravel right of way to the end where it stopped at a river. This country was vast, rugged, and fulfilling to one's senses. Cairn left her car and walked down stream. She crouched down, then bent over and splashed some river water on her face. It felt wonderfully fresh. When she balanced back to a crouching position she looked to her left and saw a red robe with white and black stripe flowing next to her. It startled her, as she never saw anyone walking up the river near her location. The river-bank had solely been hers all alone. Cairn took her hands to the dirt and pushed off putting herself upright.

The robe was wrapped around an old man. He was deeply tanned and his skin well weathered with wrinkles and creases and folds, giving him his own character. Deep set coal eyes looked out from under his collapsing eyelids. His hair was shoulder length, silver white, with one thick strand braided with brown leather and a yellow shoe-lace intertwined. A small feather adorned the end. His red robe was worn proudly. It draped over his whole torso with the corners landing at his sandal wearing feet. If he bore a staff, Cairn thought he would be the equivalent to the movie scene, where Moses parted the Red Sea just with his charisma alone. Well, this man, no taller than five-foot two and bearing a feather light frame held a remarkable presence. Holy was the word that came to Cairn's mind.

As Cairn rose to her feet, the old sage looked at her, bowed his head and smiled in acknowledgment. Cairn did not know exactly what to say except, “Hi how are you? Lovely day isn't it?” Somehow, although it broke the ice, Cairn felt these words were highly inadequate.

“Yes. Yes it is a nice day. One of those days where magic can happen,” the old man said thoughtfully. He looked Cairn over and smiled then spoke, “You are not from here, I know this. Are you lost?”

Cairn clarified the strangers misgivings and said, “Oh no. I'm just exploring on my way west and thought I'd stop.”

“I see,” The old man said, nodding once again.

“You know I don't want to be rude, but I didn't see anyone when I walked to this spot. Where did you come from?” Cairn asked, wondering if she was out of line in asking.

“Oh I frequent this river bank often. At my age, I've learned to walk softly. No impact.” The old robe-wearing man stated. He was not naked beneath the cloth as he wore a flannel, blue and white plaid shirt and an equally well-worn pair of jeans. “Miss, if you don't mind me prying, but I sense you have left some thing behind as you seek for something more. You are starting to find it—in yourself. My guides reveal that you are to seek more, for you shall be forever indebted to your search.”

Cairn listened carefully. There are times in a person's life when certain words ring true. This was one of those times. The messenger, this time was a wise old sage, who offered Cairn wisdom that she was just beginning to understand and appreciate. After a time Cairn said, “Thank you. It is true; a part of me is shifting. Are you a clairvoyant?”

The small man of big stature grinned and laughed softly. He said, “Oh I've been called many things. Clairvoyant is good, too,” he smiled ear to ear not hiding his amusement. “I can continue if you'd like.”

Cairn liked this person, wherever he came from. On a deeper level, she even trusted him. More so, she was curious. Everyone likes to know and hear what others say about them. Cairn was no different; especially since being a bit self-indulgent there was an urge to learn more about herself. So when Cairn looked directly into the wise man's eyes and nodded a big affirmative “Yes,” he took the lead.

The sage sat back on a large well-placed sitting rock. With an outstretched arm and hand pointing the native showed Cairn which rock to sit on, too. Cairn did not recollect any large rocks nearby and here they sat next to the river like this was an ongoing daily tea party. The wise man gazed into the river as if searching for answers, or questions. Cairn stayed silent. She intuitively knew that remaining quiet would unearth new value for her life.

“Change for you is inevitable. Your inner landscape, your soul journey is being challenged. Do not let it frighten you. This is good growth, and timely. There is a tendency when being confronted with the new, to pull back and hold to old ideals. This is human and it is natural. And, yes, it is safe, but only in your mind this perception exists. Holding on to the old does not serve you, or anybody, well. It's good to clean your closet out so you can bring new things in that serve you much better. Clearing out antiquated beliefs allows much better energy flow and then better thoughts,” the wise old sage stopped talking, folded his arms across his chest, leaned back a tad and closed his eyes as if to re-balance. Then he continued, “You have a discomfort with animals. They are not here to hurt you. Quite the contrary. Animals are cloaked spirit guides. If you listen, they can teach you more about yourself than any human interaction will. Do not look for the large expressive bouts of vocal tale bearing. No, animals are subtle communicators. They mirror your inner self. It is true all animals communicate differently. This is a good thing because everyone resonates with different animals. Some like dogs, some cats, others horses, some like all animals. Each animal is like a human. Each is unique and communicates in their own way. Have you Cairn, ever liked a particular type of animal?” The old man asked.

Cairn was deep into thought for what the sage just offered. She also, didn't think she offered her name to him, but no matter. Did she ever have an animal in her life path? Then she remembered and said, “I've never owned an animal, but sometimes stray cats befriend me. They come to my door looking for food and so I feed them. I had one stay over for about four weeks once. Then one day it disappeared. I was rather despondent. But I chalked it up to this cat being transient. Like people we need to move on.”

“That is good. That cat and the others who have crossed your path have helped you understand a part of yourself you might not get in touch with otherwise,” the wisdom this old sage offered sucked Cairn right in. She was hooked. The sage continued to talk, “You know we are all, in essence, energy vibration. All of us, everything, including animals. Do you know how some folks seem to talk so well with their animals; can get their animals to perform incredible feats? It is simple. Since we are all vibration, all one has to do it get on the same frequency as their pet. And voila you can have a whole new world of conversation. Really it’s more like tuning your intuition to the same channel where someone else lives; it is understood by using body language and connecting to your soul source. Nothing really more, but people muddle the simplest things up and then a mess begins,” the sage nodded, and closed his eyes once again.

Cairn just landed an encyclopedia full and was swimming in questions yet had none. She stated to herself in an overwhelming urge to absorb all that she heard.

“Vibration,” Cairn stated not expecting an answer. “Geez, I never gave animals any credit for nothing. Oh my, I'm sorry mother earth I did not know. Yes, this all makes sense.”

The sage smiled. His student was a fast learner. More than that she was receptive to what was offered. The man left Cairn with a few more parting thoughts when he said, “You are embarking on new territory. This is an opportunity to gain another perspective. Everything you interact with is a chance encounter for you to learn. Seize it. And last, watch out for the snake with the rock. It carries the seed to renewal.” With that the sage got up, leaned over squeezed Cairn's shoulder and walked on down the riverbank.

Cairn enamored, was immersed in thought as the old native left. It was like he had x-ray vision to see inside her. It did not offend her, for she trusted him. Everything he said was true. Everything. Except she did not understand the bit about a snake with a rock and renewal. Well it was time to go. Cairn stood up and walked down the riverbank in the opposite direction. She remembered that she did not bide the old sage a proper thank you. Cairn turned around to go back and he was gone, as in disappeared. This was impossible because he was just there and he did not walk at all fast and the beach was expansive. One would have to run pretty fast to get out of sight. Cairn stood for five minutes trying figure out where her friend had gone. It was baffling. Deciding to go to town and get something to eat, Cairn headed back to her car.

Divine Intervention

Driving back through the town, its population could not be more than a thousand. The buildings were dated, mostly done in red brick and lined the one and only street there was. The town survived because of the freeway traffic flow, which kept it alive. And, the good fishing from the river. Cairn found an old time cafe, went in and sat in a booth. Her head was still swimming from all the information the man had instilled in her. A waitress came and gave Cairn a menu. She didn't need one and told the waitress that she wanted a large vanilla shake, a cheeseburger, and fries. The waitress nodded and left.

Cairn looked around the small cafe. There were old town posters everywhere. There were so many from different years, but all seemed to declare the history of the town and its residences. Her mind hurt but she could not turn it off, so she stared blindly at the posters on the walls and ceiling. She bent her head back for no reason other than to stretch her neck muscles and stared at the ceiling. More posters adorned every inch of space. It was then that one poster caught Cairn's full attention.

She got up and walked over to it and cranked her head up. There stood a silver-white headed old man with a red wrapped blanket around his body. Same sandals, same braid in the hair, exactly the same eyes. It was her friend. The type was faded, so she could not read anything. But that spurred Cairn to go through the entire restaurant to find another. Fortunately, there was only one other elderly couple dining so her odd hunt was doable. Cairn found another similar poster near the restrooms and one more in a far corner. This time she could make out the intent. The 'Chief' was being honored in a local celebration, but it was dated 1965 and it looked like the 'Chief' had not aged.

When Cairn sat back down she was thinking something was not quite right. The waitress brought her food and Cairn asked her, “Do you know anything about these posters, particularly that one about the Chief in the corner over there?”

“No ma’am, I don't. Sorry. Possibly you can go over to the Chamber of Commerce. They are open until 3pm today,” the waitress replied.

Cairn would do that after lunch. Sucking down her shake, Cairn jumped when an older gentleman tapped her table and leaned over. He said, “I hate to intrude, but I heard you inquiring about that poster of the Chief. Can I be so bold to ask you to sit at my wife's and my table? Come, bring your food. I think we can answer your questions.”

Cairn looked at the man and couldn’t believe her good fortune. There was only this couple in the cafe and he was offering information. Cairn shook her head yes, grabbed her vanilla shake and hamburger basket, and joined the couple in their booth.

All at once, they all started talking. Like kids having a party. The older couple was more than happy to talk to an outsider. Cairn was happy to talk to someone as well. After they all settled in, the questions commenced.

“So my wife and I saw you looking at the Chief's poster and were curious why?” asked the gentleman wearing an old suit complete with a tie.

“Well, the Chief as your posters call him, we had a long talk today along the riverbank,” said Cairn.

“Go on,” said the wife all dress in a starched pink and rose patterned dress.

Cairn recalled her conversation and said, “It was as if the Chief came out of nowhere and when we were done talking he disappeared just as easily. Strange. But, he was so amazingly clairvoyant and he provided me a lot of insights especially around animals, which I did not know. Incredible really.”

“Interesting. Many others, mostly visitors here, have had the same experience. The Chief died in 1966, a long time ago. We, Henry and I were fond friends with him. Yes, he had wisdom and insight few possess. It does not surprise us to hear about his animal teachings that he shared with you. He adored all life forms and insisted that animals were messengers from the heavens. Here to teach us what we cannot teach ourselves. Cairn, its okay to close your mouth now,” Helen, Henry's wife said with a smile and a pat on Cairn's hand.

“Wow-o-wow, this is some afternoon. I've never given a lot of thought to synchronicity, but there is something more here than meets this 3D. I mean, what are the odds that you two, the only two who are here in this restaurant and probably the only two able to tell me this. I wonder how many others go away just thinking they talked to a real live person,” Cairn trailed off from what she said.

“Well according to the Chief, it is all real. Both dimensions are just as real. Animals are capable to live in different frequencies and vibrations. In fact... well, I won't go off on my little tangent,” Henry just explained more of what the Chief had said, just in another way. Then he began again, “If you want, you can visit the Chief's grave, up on the hill. You can't miss it as his stature sits larger than life on top,” Henry explained, while he was pointing out the window in the direction of the graveyard.

Right after lunch, Cairn headed for the town graveyard. Sure as shoot there was the Chief's grave. This town had been his and he ruled it with kindness. Animals flocked to his door and not one was turn away. The Chief had a wife, which preceded him in death only by days. Her remains were there beside him in his burial plot. The couple had no children. They were among the last of the tribe from this area.

“Thank you my dear friend for all of your twenty minutes of wisdom, but indefinitely so as you taught me well,” said Cairn smiling upon his grave. The Chief must have listened because the tree standing guard over his grave released at least two-dozen leaves at Cairn's feet. This was June, and not fall season. There would be no reason for leaves to fall from any tree at this time of year. Cairn bent down and picked up a few of the Chief's leaves to take with her. An odd thought swished through her. What if I reminded the Chief of someone he loved. He had no children, only a wife. Perhaps I was likened to a former lover?

Home Stretch

Once back on the road, Cairn drove with silent thoughts. Almost unbelievable as if it weren't all true, this event, or string of events were something to digest. She had to tell Kelly and just then, the phone rang. What better way to kill hours of travel then to tell your best friend about the latest adventure? Cairn told Kelly every little detail and for almost two hours they talked, not just of the Chief but of synchronicity, new age concepts, manifestation and more. Kelly was bursting with pride, because for years Cairn scoffed at her books, tapes, friends and more that were all related to spiritually. Now Cairn had an awakening, due to a few easy events that transpired during her road trip.

Kelly is like most of the authentically spiritually inclined, which knows sacred beliefs cannot be pushed on another. Personal spiritually comes to a person only when they are ready to receive it, and not before. It is not an exclusive cult. Spiritual principles are available to all who seek it. Some find it inside of organized religions. There are many ways to find your soul. No one way is better than the other.

Cairn prattled on about how she felt she was onto something really great. That she was going to be more aware of her path. Kelly bantered back that she thought Cairn's transformation was great, and gently reminded her that it is a process of deepening oneself and it takes years to download. It's like school. A person can never learn it all. The two girls talked themselves out. Kelly had just shot an afternoon's worth of work and didn't care. Cairn was another couple hours down the road, closer to Cliff, but that would be tomorrow.

The Roadhouse Cafe

The final day, the final hours of driving left Cairn numb. She was tired and road weary. She figured she had several hours to go, which might put her at the cafe at about 1pm. Cairn called Cliff, but got his recording, so she left a message for him. The last hours seemed grueling. The terrain had noticeably dried up. Rolling brown hills revealing the start of a drought. The farther west Cairn drove, the uglier it got, in her opinion. The land looked unforgiving and cruel. For the first time Cairn thought about where wild animals might hide. Or do they? Maybe they just get sun fried. The road seemed endless and now it was a drudgery to travel. All the pretty spots seemed to fade away. The temperature on the outside gauge read 98 degrees. An extraordinary temperature for June, Cairn thought, but then remained open that this might be a normal out here in central, eastern Oregon. She reminded herself that this was all an adventure. That she did not have to live here. And anything was doable for a couple weeks. At that she passed a small sign that read, “Drewsey.”

Down the road a ways, the next sign was a sun-bleached piece of cardboard and taped to a box sitting on the ground. The black letters said, “Cafe,” with an arrow pointing off the road. Cairn almost passed it up, but screeched to a halt. Right there in the middle of the highway Cairn put her car in reverse and backed up to where the 'cafe' cutoff was. Darned if she was going any farther down the road to turn around. Fortunately, no traffic came from either direction. Most definitely one of the advantages of living out in Tim-buck-two.

The time was 1:30 under the hot afternoon sun. Cairn drove her dust covered wagon down the lone dirt road. In not to far a distance, appeared a small wood building that appeared weather eroded. A “Cafe” sign perched itself to the left of the door. It was handmade with relief letters set off from a back-board with a spiked outline. Underneath was a metal sign that read: Cowboy Parking Only. All Others will be Castrated. Cairn laughed then thought: This was probably one of the few places around where you could get away with displaying such a sign without offending anyone. Cairn reached for the door and realized there was another door to her right, so she stepped back to see the bigger sign above the shed roof. This was both a cafe and a saloon; each door served its own clientele.

Cairn walked in the sliver of a cafe with one row of tables. Two young men looked up as she walked to the end booth and flopped down. This was clearly cowboy country. The gentlemen fit the part. Clean cut, except one had a mustache. Both men wore cowboy hats, except one was placed beside them on the table. At certain courtesy still reigned. Both wore long sleeve plaid shirts even in this heat. Most likely they wore their sleeves long for protection from the elements. Each sat in well-worn jeans and cowboy work boots.

Cairn wondered if she had over-dressed or under-dressed for this side of the mountain. The jeans she wore were too clean. Her sleeveless crop top could be taken the wrong way. Instead of boots, she wore flip-flops with blue-painted toenails. And, then her hair. This would have been a real piece of discussion except Cairn was smart enough to hide it under a baseball cap. She figured she could pass as acceptable.

One of the men twisted around in his seat and addressed Cairn. “You're not from around here,” he made a statement rather than a question, then he asked, “Where did you come from?”

“The road,” Cairn replied. “I saw the sign for the cafe. Besides I am to meet Cliff Wallace here. Do you know him?” asking the two men straight out.

The other man wearing a mustache took notice, sat up straight, and pushed the front brim on his hat back as if to get it out of his eyes. His forehead wrinkled as his eye-brow raised and in wasting no time he asked, “How do you know Clifford?”

Cairn was stunned as their bluntness. Did she want to admit that she met Cliff online? Then again, did these guys in this small community already know? Perhaps Cliff kept this private. Cairn felt trapped, so she stretched the truth. “Cliff and I have been conversing for several months. Business affairs.”

“Huh?” was the only thing that came out of the Marlboro man's mouth. He resumed his original posture because the sandwich he had ordered was just put in front of him. His partner turned himself back around as well and attended the food he had ordered. Cairn just stared at the two men not figuring them out. They were busy bodies, but when it came right down to it they cared more about their stomachs. Typical.

The waitress came over to Cairn. “I heard you are looking for our local cowboy, Cliff. He told me you'd be around. Cliff is out ranching today with the cattle, so I'm supposed to call Frank to come get you. He'll show you to Cliff's place. It'll be fine. By the way, I'm Sheila, the cafe owner, server, and sometimes cook if you know what I mean.” Sheila winked, then asked Cairn, “What can I get you? It's on Cliff, bless his soul, so order whatever.”

“Oh, well what I really want is a rum and Coke, can I get that here?” Cairn asked.

“Of course, honey, I will bring it over from the saloon side of the house. Any food? You look like you could use some nourishment,” Sheila asked.

“Well, I could go for a Reuben with big homemade fries if you have it,” Cairn inquired.

Sheila smiled, wrote the order on her small tablet, and said, “You got it. About ten minutes is all.” And then she disappeared into the back.

Cairn strummed her fingers on the table. She didn't want to talk to anymore prying cowboys. She was not in the mood. So she reached in her purse and pulled out the most recent Wall Street Journal and buried her head inside the folds of the newsprint. Cairn got the odd feeling both cowboys looked back at her reading her uppity paper. She didn't look up to check, but wondered what they thought. Perhaps they were too dumb to know the other side of life in the fast lane. Maybe they think I am a stuck-up, high-maintenance city girl. Or, perhaps they both had MBA’s and just choose to live this lifestyle outside the lime-lights of the city. It was certainly hard to exact a person to their profession. One thing Cairn did know was to never judge a book by its cover.

“Here you go with the Reuben. The drink is coming pronto from the bar. And I called Frank. He'll be over in about a half hour. So be sure to eat up, as he does not let any moss grow under his heels,” Sheila was efficient as she was nice.

“Thanks so much Sheila. I really appreciate you taking me under your wing,” Cairn said.

“Oh its nothing. I do hope you are sticking around for a bit,” Sheila replied, smiled, and bounced back into the kitchen like it had a recoil tether on her.

Extreme Cowboy

Cairn sucked down the rum and Coke like it was water. Then she flushed it back with water. The slight buzz she got took the edge of the road off. She just finished the last bite of her sandwich when the cafe door swung open and a huge man figure with a ten-gallon tall hat filled up the doorway. Cairn looked up and stared. Holy cow, this guy was the real deal. His handle bar mustache extended well beyond his cheeks. He had sideburns out of the seventies. Couldn't tell about his hair it might have been tucked up under his tall hat. His red and brown long sleeve plaid shirt was buttoned up so tight it could seal out the wind. A large bandanna of dirty chamois draped around his neck. A belt buckle the size of a dinner plate adorned his waist-line and apparently held up his filthy jeans. When he took a step with his dust covered cowboy boots that were well past their prime, the floor clinked. Long steel spurs ending with roller spikes scrapped across the floor. Only a few steps in and Cairn thought he was dragging a ball and chain. The man was imposing and with a full five o'clock shadow it looked like he slept in his clothes.

The two guys sitting in the booth paled in comparison to this newcomer. Decidedly, Cairn believed the first two were not cowboys after all. The new entry certainly was the real deal. Just as Cairn was assessing and comparing the men, the two lesser cowboys simultaneously greeted the newcomer with, “Hey Frank,” and, “What's going on big guy?”

Cairn couldn't believe her luck. This guy was going to show her to Cliff's house and she was already intimidated by him.

“You Cairn?” Frank said in a deep gravely voice. He had already ascertained that this was Cairn, but had to state the obvious.

“Yes, and I've got that you are Frank,” Cairn stated this as a fact.

“Well, if you are done, you can follow me to Cliff's place. You know he won't be home ‘til after dark,” Frank was outlining all the obvious.

“Yes, that is correct. And, yes, we can go,” Cairn pulled out an ample five dollar tip and set it on the table.

Once back on the highway they turned left, heading back the way Cairn had come in. But the freeway was short lived and yielded to a dirt road turn off where they followed the ups and downs for about fifteen miles. Cairn's Subaru had no problem keeping up with Frank's old pick up that seemed to labor up every little hill. Cairn just shook her head. What next? Here she was out in the middle of sparse brown covered hills, with little vegetation void of green. Not a store in sight, this was down right creepy for a girl that needed a city fix.

Twelve miles later, Frank pulled off the dirt road onto another that was barely audible. This was where the road ruts began. Some of the wash outs were so deep that Cairn had to carefully ride the ridges. She had all-wheel drive, but it was no match for the depths of these ruts. Now it was beyond slow going. If you cared at all for preserving your car you needed to creep it along or get out and walk. Not only were the ruts incorrigible, but the road dust was powder fine encouraging drivers to roll up all windows. That was no problem for Cairn as the windows were already up because the air conditioner was on.

This short stint of road yielded to another turn, which lead to a lonely big yard surrounded by almost barren hills. A pine tree sat scattered here and there. Frank stopped his truck and got out. Cairn pulled up behind him and also got out of her car. Before them stood the monstrous framework of a gallant old barn, past its prime. Weathered vertical boards showed signs of a well-faded red paint also beyond its prime.

“Here's where I leave you,” Frank said somberly.

“Wha... what do you mean?” Cairn asked, quite confused.

“This is Cliff's place. It's where he lives,” at that, Frank hopped back in his truck and disappeared.

Cairn put her hands to her head. I can't believe this. What was I thinking? Shit, a barn? Okay get a grip. It's not the end of the world. I can sleep in my car for a night or two until I figure my way out of here. Cairn walked around and over to where the road was then more logic came to her: It was not even possible to leave. Only a tracker could find their way back out. There were no tire tracks out unless one followed the ruts, but there were ruts everywhere. Cairn resolved that she was stuck waiting for Cliff, no matter how long it took.

The Barnyard

To each his own, and Cairn bid Frank a farewell by flipping him off. She didn't think he saw it as he was around the corner and gone. Anyway, Cairn didn't care if he did see her flip him off, because she meant every strained muscle offered from it. With a bottle of water taken from the back seat, Cairn sucked it down within minutes. Surveying the place, she thought it was beyond rough. The barn was a Gambrel style roof-top, with both sides having a shed roof. The barn was massive. No wonder it had foregone a paint job on a regular basis. The roof was green metal and looked to be adequate. Despite the initial impression, the structure was solid. Cairn took in everything.

The farm-yard had two broken down trucks up on jack stands. They did not look worth repairing. Time and pot shots from using them as a target practice did not let them weather well either. Otherwise the yard was clean. There was a carcass pile of vehicle parts stowed under one side of the barn wing roof. There was a hefty hitching post in front of the barn. For visiting cowboys on horseback she surmised. A single willow tree stood tall over-top as much needed shade. It must have gotten watered often to survive this arid climate. There was also a half-barrel full of water and a hose leading out of it to a spigot.

The barn's twelve-foot high doorway was draped with Christmas lights in every color. The doors were slid open on either side. Cairn wondered if they ever got closed. But on second thought, who would bother coming down that road and it did not appear that there was anything to steal but a mound of hay sitting in the center of the barn. Cairn walked over to it and ran her hand across the bales. The grass was stiff, not even green. Why would anyone feed that to their animals? Furthermore why would the animals even eat it? Unless they were starving. Cairn looked under the west wing side. What looked like a brand new tractor was parked with an assortment of implements. Cairn didn't know much about equipment, but this tractor and all the attachments looked quite pricey. Maybe there was money in being a cowboy? There was more man stuff stored on this side, stuff Cairn had no clue about except she figured most all of it was for running a farm. At the end of this shed roof was an enclosed room. It was good sized and occupied a third of the wing. Cairn could not get in to see its contents. It was locked. Maybe later.

The other shed roof was split into sections; many stall sections, perhaps eight. Then Cairn understood. A white horse with a dark mane and tail walked into the barn. He looked as curious at Cairn as she did at him. The horse stuck his head over the half wall and pushed his nose out towards Cairn. She backed off, but then remembered the words of the Chief. Cautiously she stepped up to the nose the horse and reached out. His nose was velvet. Cairn had never touched anything so soft in all her life. It made her smile. And in just that moment, she believed she was talking to this horse. A few more pats on the nose, then she slid her hand under his forelock and down the front of his face. Then repeated the petting several times. The horse liked it, but pushed his nose at Cairn as if not satisfied. Cairn got it. She was asking for food.

She looked around and saw that stiff hay and thought, no. She looked down to the end of the shed row roof and around the corner was another large stack of unmistakable hay. Green, pliable, with a smell like fresh mowed grass, it had to be hay. Cairn took a handful and return to her new friend. She placed the hay in a corner feed bin. The horse took right to it. Another horse showed up in another stall beside its friend. This one was tall, lean, and solid dark brown to black. Not a speck of white on it.

Cairn made the short trip down the aisle to retrieve more hay. Then a group of black cows came roaming in. They occupied four of the stalls that were not separated out. This shed roof let the cows roam out of the heat of the day, plus they had a huge yard outside too. And when Cairn looked so did both the horses. In fact the white horse had a nice shade tree in its paddock. The two horses were separated out from one another, and definitely away from the cows. There seemed to be a logic that ruled how barns are utilized. Cairn didn't know anything about farm life, but her sense of organization saw that Cliff was an efficient person. There was equipment, but mostly there was livestock and food to feed them.

At one end of the barn, at the back end, Cairn saw a staircase. It was nondescript, but had a hefty wooden planks for steps. There must be an upstairs because there was much more roof to that the height of the lower barn ceiling. Cairn figured she had all day so exploring was a must. She was sure Cliff wouldn't mind. Stepping up the stairs, shadows of the late afternoon sun streamed into the barn. Cairn grabbed the handrail for support. At the top there was a grand door made of cedar planking and it was fitting because it was rough-cut. Cairn grabbed the door-knob hoping it was open. It was.

The large door swung easy and Cairn stepped inside. Light was timidly streamed inside the row of windows from both sides. Cairn felt around on the wall and found a light switch and flipped all switches on. Blessed be, for before her was a complete home. Cairn put one hand to her mouth. She was shocked. Cliff's home was actually somewhat of a comfortable place. And it was huge because it occupied the whole top of the barn. She couldn't wait and, if fact, needed to snoop. The kitchen beyond the entry living room had an oversize eating area. Oversize because the table was made of ten-foot finished planks and had eight chairs to match. No doubt family visited often. The cupboards seemed to be an old style. However, they were really camouflaged by a dark green stain scraped to the undercoat for effect. The lower drawers and base cabinets were painted a complimentary red with the same antique type finish. The appliances all were aged, but had been repainted in turquoise. Somehow all the colors worked together. The kitchen was cheery and with an adornment of fresh sunflowers deserved to be in a farm-house magazine.

The good size living area met you as you came in the door. A wood stove centrally located, heated the whole upstairs. The furniture was worn. Blankets were tossed over the two couches. Some cushion covers exposed bare threads right down to the Styrofoam. These sofas had seen better days. The coffee table to kick your feet up on was made from old barn wood, as were the end tables. There was no television or computer screens anywhere. This was the boondocks, so Cairn figured there was no reception.

Beyond the living room and the kitchen came one, big bathroom. Yes, there was just one bathroom. But it was large and well thought out. It contained three smaller rooms with doors: a separate shower room; a tub soaking room; and toilet room. The two-sink vanity was all alone in the outside area and served all three little rooms. Cairn had never seen a bathroom as practical or all-purpose as this one; obvious in that it served several people simultaneously. She took a couple of pictures with her phone to show the folks back home.

To accommodate company and family there were four bedrooms. The master was obvious. It had a queen bed, plus a couple of antique dressers and a large walk in closet. Cairn wondered if she would be sleeping in the master room that night. The other three bedrooms had a combination of two twin or full size beds each. Simple well worn to almost beat up dressers matched the rough hewn home.

Then it dawned on Cairn that Cliff said he had four boys plus visiting grand kids. A house full. This house was not glamorous. It was designed for pragmatic living; a smart application for accommodating visitors. All in all, the house was completely serviceable. It had your typical drywall, although rough, and some walls were covered with cedar for the farm effect. Either that or cedar was just handy. Everything in the house was somewhat eclectic. Cairn figured Cliff bought from garage sales, or some might have been family heirlooms. It was not her tastes, but what the heck this beat sleeping in her car. She gargled a silly laugh thinking of how she would tell Kelly about sleeping in a barn. Just then Cairn looked at her phone and saw no bars. Now she was feeling like a caged cat.

Confrontation

It was too impossibly hot outside, so Cairn went and got minimal overnight accessories out of her car. The afternoon had slipped away and five o'clock had even come and gone. Cairn sat down in the lazy boy recliner, leaned back, and fell promptly asleep. She didn't hear Cliff's footsteps on the wooden floor as he approached her. He hesitated to wake Cairn. After two minutes, he feasted his eyes on this lean, to be blue-eyed beauty. Then the cowboy leaned over Cairn and ran his fingers down her arm. She jumped, sucking in air, then coughed. When she was fully awake she smiled. Kicking back the chair extension, Cairn got up. She wasn't sure what to do next except say the obvious, “Cliff?”

“In the flesh, come here Cairn,” Cliff directed and he held his open arms outstretched. Cairn took two steps to get into his arms and threw her own arms around him. They held each other until awkwardness crept in and they let go and stepped back. Cliff said, “Here, let me look at you. Say what's with the Mohawk hair do? Huh? What's with the outrageous red?” His eyes bulged, his cheeks flushed, as if he was expecting something else.

“Well, what you see is what you get Cliff. My stylist got a bit carried away. That is why I cover it with a baseball cap,” Cairn explained as she pointed to her baseball cap on the recliner.

“Oh. I see,” Cliff went quiet. He walked over to the stove, opened the door, and then let itself slam shut. Cliff strode to the refrigerator and opened it. He stared at a brown paper wrapped, uncooked roast. Then he went off, “See the roast in here? It doesn't get any fresher. I was hoping to come home to dinner. Cooked that is. Do ya think you could get it going while I clean up?” Cliff spoke surprisingly unrestrained, yet in a nice tone, but his words said otherwise.

“Well, sure, I guess I could get dinner going for us. Didn't know what you wanted it, otherwise I could have got it going earlier. Anything else you want to accompany the roast?” Cairn asked a bit baffled.

Cliff just waved his hand off as if to say take care of it, and then left for the shower room. Cairn seasoned the hunk of meat and found some potatoes to bake, and green lettuce, cucumbers, and tomatoes to make a salad. She busied herself putting the dinner together all the while inside she was festering at Cliff's comments and expectations. The more she prepared dinner the madder she got. Early on Cairn told Cliff she didn't eat beef. Was the cowboy selfish, diffident, or just clueless? No matter. In Cairn's opinion ignoring a guest's request was just plain thoughtless.

When Cliff reappeared from his shower he was running a towel across the top of his hair. When he was done he said, “Ah, much better. When's dinner ready?”

That did it. Cairn wanted to beat him with an iron skillet right then. This was not the sweet silly Cliff of phone conversations that she knew. It was a man acting out that he needed a mother. When Cliff dropped the towel off, now Cairn had cause to ridicule so she said, “Oh my god! Oh my god! Look at your NO hair on the top of your cradle cap. Cliff I'm afraid you misrepresented yourself in your profile. Your tall cowboy hat covered up that your hair is thinning. Okay, are we even now?” Cairn toyed with being a bit sarcastic, but kept her voice lighthearted. But, she meant every word like he had.

“What? You want to talk about misrepresentation lil Missy?” Cliff bit back. “All your profile pics were in black and white, what's a guy to think? And you had long, normal hair. That is what I like,” Cliff was shaking his head.

“Well, I like a man with hair. Not one who only shows part of the story, if you know what I mean,” Cairn took his challenge and didn't back down. “Furthermore treating me like your little woman doesn't work for me. Cook your own f-ing roast. In fact, I hate roast because I am a vegetarian. Cliff you better get over your expectations of me or this so ain't going to work,” Cairn was strong in her words and stood tall as she talked. She just spent two months getting to know someone she did not know at all. Now what?

“Okay, okay. Suppose we got off on the wrong foot here. I apologize Cairn. I do. It's no excuse, but I'm tired and having you here got me excited in the wrong way,” Cliff lowered and softened his voice. Just then the oven buzzer went off.

Cairn smiled and looked at him realizing she just saw his vulnerabilities. The she spoke, “Cliff, come on over and carve the roast so we can eat.” Like a submissive puppy dog, Cliff complied. Within minutes, the table was set with silverware, plates, and bowls of food. Cliff brought the carved roast over to the table. The two sat down. Cliff was taking a piece of prime rib cut thick and placing it on Cairn's plate. Then he stopped and looked pensive, almost guilty.

Cairn tapped his hand to leave it and said, “When in cowboy country, at least try what he eats.” Cairn smiled and shrugged her shoulders.

“Okay, then. Bon appetite?” Cliff said and smiled warmly. After a rough start, the rest of the dinner went well. Cliff even noticed that Cairn was eating the meat she claimed to hate. So he had to say something, “Meat pretty good or are you just being polite?”

Cairn engrossed in her dinner, looked up and without a beat said, “I'm being polite.” After a few more mouthfuls of salad and scrapping her baked potato clean, Cairn rested back in her chair and announced, “But, I'll admit Mr. Cow is pretty darn tasty.” Both Cliff and Cairn started to laugh. A clear-cut tension breaker to end their squabble.

Cairn got up and carried dishes to the sink. Cliff followed in unison. There was no dishwasher, except for the four hands present. So Cliff washed while Cairn dried. It was Cliff who first broached what was on both their minds. “Cairn, I'm not sure what to do about our sleep arrangements. You can take the master bedroom or any bedroom if you want. I don't know if it is premature to ask you to sleep with me yet, or not.” Cliff was thoughtful and not even hopeful because he was not sure of his attraction to Cairn.

Cairn was grateful he brought the sleep subject up first. She replied, “You know I'm thinking that I will take one of the kids rooms for tonight, maybe more, until we both settle in to see how we do. That way there are no pressures, or expectations. It'll give us time.”

Cliff almost breathed a sigh of relief then said, “This online dating is kinda a different breed. Especially way out here. If you lived down the road I could take and wine and dine you at the local restaurants. Get to know you—in the flesh—a little at a time, if you know what I mean.”

“Yup, I know exactly what you mean, Cliff. It's almost like having a mail order bride out here in the outback, but it's not. There is a lot to be said for proximity. I will tell you this. I have dated a whole lot of guys in the city, but none were attached to the adventure that I've had on the trek here. So, Cliff so far you are my best date.” Cairn sincerely meant what she said and leaned over and kissed Cliff on the cheek. He blushed. Cairn put her dish-towel down, and then said, “I need to turn in for the night. I'm road weary. If you don't mind I'll take the bedroom to the left of yours tonight. Got my stuff in it.”

“Of course. Please be comfortable and do whatever makes you happy here. Good night,” Cliff called after Cairn as she waved going into the bedroom. By 9pm, both were sound asleep.

Immortal Warrior

Dawn came early, too early for what Cairn was accustomed to. Cairn sat up in her bed and looked out the eye-level window to her right. The rolling hills unmoved from the prior day were still brown grass gone dry. The sun was just breaching over the hill and piercing the night into daylight. Cairn marveled at how this terrain was so entirely different from any other she had seen. The landscape was, like, naked. Not Saudi Arabia desolate, but barren all the same. No precipitation equaled an environment void of green, and it was green that could turn a wasteland into utopia. If it were not for some boulders and scattered, sporadically placed trees here and there the terrain would be unfit.

Cairn could hear Cliff's boots across the floor, so she called out from her sitting position topped with covers in bed, “Cliff. Are you there?” Of course he was.

“Yes, my pumpkin head,” Cliff swung around the corner of the door jam and jeered, “Would you like a cup of java in the sack?” He offered lightly.

“Gosh, yes. I'd love one thanks, Mr. Mushroom Top,” Cairn kidded. She could not help herself and wonder if she made him mad as he promptly disappeared around the corner. She could hear footsteps go here and there then back toward her room.

Cliff had a large cup, steaming hot, in his hands. He bent over and placed it in Cairn’s hands tenderly. “Careful, it is over the top hot. Here take this towel, too,” Cliff offered.

“No matter what I say, you are a doll, Cliff,” Cairn stated this sincerely, with a small smile, and then said, “So what's on your agenda today? Do you want dinner tonight? I assume you do...” Cairn was questioning her status for the day.

Cliff, now sitting at the foot of her bed with a hand on one of her extended feet said, “This morning I am off. More branding up at the neighbor’s place. I'll take you there on a short day. Probably will be back late afternoon, so dinner would be great. But I'll make it easy on you. The rib roast makes sweet French dip and all the makins are in there, so keep it simple cuz this evening I will put you on Bluebird.”

“Bluebird?” Cairn inquired.

“Yup, Bluebird. He's the white-flecked equine with a darker mane and tail. He would not hurt a fly. You'll see,” Cliff patted Cairns foot, got up from the bed, and walked out the door saying, “Enjoy yourself Cairn, nothing is off limits, but I wouldn't suggest saddling up one of the steers just yet. Just sayin',” Cliff winked.

“Yes, boss. Have a safe day,” Cairn was rather relieved that she could have time to her lonesome self and not be bossed around. Cliff and her had some adjusting to do if they were going to spend a week or two together... that is if he didn't get fed up and ask her to leave. Although, admittedly this short morning interlude went rather well.

Cairn observed that how they had spoke on the phone was a far cry from how they communicated in person. Even the range of their voice was off. Over the phone it was like they grew to be blind lovers thirsting for salvation. Using endearing terms of love, dear, baby, sweetie, and more they defined their affection for one another. Cairn wondered if long, dark, lonely nights bred a lusting to connect with another from afar. Now, here in this place, their voices had expectations, an edge, their words stiff, and they ribbed one another like brother and sister. And despite Cliff's balding cap, he still resembled his picture. In fact his picture did not do him justice. Cairn hoped Cliff thought the same in return of her.

By mid-morning, Cairn could see how lonely life could be out in No-wheres-ville if you didn't have an agenda. After taking a fresh look around the barn top to bottom and the outside, the only thing left was to climb a hill for a vantage point. Many hills surrounded Cliff's farm, but up on one hill Cairn spotted life standing abruptly tall. The figure was standing directly in the sun, blocking a daylight view of him. Sun-rays poked out around the man figure. He raised his hand and Cairn returned the gesture. Someone to talk to was welcome so Cairn set off on foot, while he waited in place.

The hill climb was plenty, but Cairn was in shape—gym shape. The foot-hold was solid and not so steep a person had to grab onto dirt with all fours. The man stood still with his arms folded. Cairn could now see that he had dark, possibly long hair and a long feather poked out of one side. He dressed in light colored linen garments with a red sash draped over his shoulder, like one would carry a blanket. Something practical for the weather if it were to turn. The hill got steeper so Cairn had to put her head down and concentrate on her footing. For fifteen minutes, she climbed until she was sure the summit was near. Cairn raised her head up only to find no one near. Determined to make contact, Cairn pushed herself to get to the top within ten minutes.

Cairn stood on the mound, which gave a clear view of the valley around. Nowhere was the man in sight. Certainly his age would have slowed his descent. She did not know for certain that he was older, but to Cairn, the man seemed ancient. Looking in every direction, and being keen to every movement Cairn concluded the man disappeared... just like the last one she encountered. Looking down to her feet a woven red blanket piece lay in the dirt. Cairn put her fingers on the cloth and picked it up. The sun had bleached the once red to pink. The fibers were loose from the weather. The white fringe on the edge was eaten by the elements. The piece was about 8 x 8 inches. Cairn didn't know what to make of it being out here on the top of this hill where the elements could have easily swept it away and hidden it inside one of the many valleys. Just then Cairn's phone rang and made her jump. She peeled it out of her back pocket to see it was Kelly. And, it had full bars connecting her to the rest of the real world.

“Kelly... Kelly are you there? Good. I am so happy to talk to you. Do you know where I am? I'm in no man's land sitting on top of a giant molehill so I can talk to you,” Cairn said.

“That's funny Cairn. You sound like you are out of yourself, or beside yourself, or... is something wrong?” Kelly tuned into Cairn's comments.

“Wrong isn't the word for it. Weird is. What do you think of this: I'm isolated on the farm because Cliff is off on another ranch today. His house offers nothing. No Internet. No reception. Nothing. So I'm wandering outside and I see this man on the hill and he waves me up. I figure why not, as I'm not doing anything better. He waits for me, but when I get here he vanished. I mean he is nowhere in sight and I can see everywhere from this hill. Then I look down and there is this woven blanket piece at my feet. And then you ring me up loud and clear,” Cairn explained herself until she was out of breath.

Kelly thought during Cairn's pause then said, “Perhaps this man is an apparition like the other. To send a message to you and he did. He told you where to go to reconnect with the outside world. I don't know what to make of the fabric left behind, or if it is even related to all this coincidence. Hold onto it just in case it means something.”

“Kelly, being here is so different. I'm so out of my element. Whoever or whatever that man offered was to show me a way back to what I left, and to not be so intensely lonely. I don't know maybe this is all in my head, but so much synchronicity lately has to mean something, don't it?” Cairn said trying to reason out these random yet connected events.

“I do admit these spirits are a bit to coincidental. Just roll with it and see where it goes. At least this shadow person is there to help you, right?” Kelly encouraged, and then said, “So tell me about the cowboy from Drewsey.”

“There is not much to tell, really. He's a cowboy,” Cairn offered flatly.

“That's okay to hold out on me. I think your head is in the spirit world, Kelly stated.

“No. It's just that I'm not sure where we are at. We had a bit of a rough start last night. We smoothed it over and by this morning we were kidding each other,” Cairn said.

“Is there a connection between you two?” Kelly asked.

“If that's your way of saying did we sleep together, no. He is attractive and all, especially with his wide mouth grin, five o'clock shadow, and those piercing dark eyes. But, now that I see him in person, I am not all gushy over him. Our communication styles are different. He is so out with it. I don't know. Actually Kelly I think he is a better match for you,” Cairn said.

“Why is that?” Kelly asked.

“There is something about the way you both feel, like your energy levels, and the direct crispness in your talk and your intentional walk through life. Anyway, you would love this scalped land full of the critters you so love. Horses, cows, and dogs, and other wild things I'm sure of too, that I haven't seen yet,” Cairn mused over her proposal.

“Well I don't see any reason for me to git my ass out there short of a really good reason, so enjoy your cowboy man, Cairn,” Kelly advised.

“Oh I'll make the best of it for however long I'm here on this earth. Listen let's meet atop this hill for the next few mornings unless I happen to be out steer wrestling. And since I got to climb up to this summit to talk, I'll call you, okay?” Cairn asked, almost pleading, as she feared long lonely days ahead.

“Sure thing Cairn. Sounds like a plan. Okay, over and out. And one more thing: I love you,” Kelly said. She was a bit concerned, as Cairn did not sound like the steady rock Kelly always known her to be.

Cairn half-slid and half-walked her way down the hill. When she reached the bottom, her low profile sneakers were full of dirt. She found a rock to sit down on near the barn and emptied her shoes. Then she wondered what she was going to do to fill the rest of the day until Cliff got back. About then, a small blackish cat came out of nowhere and stroked Cairn's lower leg. She reached down and stroked the kitty from ear to tail. “My, aren't you a surprise sneaking up on me?” Cairn said to the stray. The dust on the kitty came off in Cairn's hand to reveal a totally shiny, black feline with upward strokes of sharp orange. Funny why the cat's are attracted to me, Cairn thought and then she remembered her calling: to feed them. “What do you make of that my pretty one? Am I supposed to feed you, too?”

Naturally, Cairn retreated to the house and reappeared with a saucer of milk. The little cat was glad to lap it up clean. The rest of the day, Cairn spent doing more barn exploration, trying to understand the farm implements, looking at the cows in the way one does for never being this closely exposed to them. Then she spent a long time petting the horses, especially Bluebird since she was to ride her later. Cairn read somewhere that if you blow into a horse's nose they would always know you. So that is what she did, just in case it worked. Meanwhile the black with some orange on it cat hung out in the barn and eventually settled into a remnant pile of hay.

Cairn was beginning to admit to herself that she was completely and utterly bored. For some reason, she had not given a thought as to how her days would be filled. If she were in the city, or at least a town, she could shop and snoop around. But she was stuck and for how long she had no idea. So in the heat of another very warm day, Cairn went up stairs found her bedroom and copied the cat. She went to sleep. Later on she woke up and thought she's better start preparing the French dip dinner. The lord only knows what wrath would be brought upon her this night if she ignored a perfectly reasonable request.

Easy Rider

With the sandwiches warming in the oven, Au jus on the stove, a fruit salad on the table, and even, box made brownies cooked up, Cairn was ready for whatever. And “the whatever” stomped through the door in a fury. Cairn wanted to step back into the shadows, but dare not forgo her ability to hold her own. Instead when she saw Cliff she could not hold her thoughts in and said, “Holy crap Cliff, you look like a herd of cattle ran you over. Where's a good horse when you need him?”

Cliff stopped dead in his tracks. Amazed he stammered, “What did ya say? How'd you know what happened? Who came by?”

“Cliff, are you alright? You aren't making sense. I've been here all day alone,” Cairn explained.

He was leaning on the counter, exhausted, and confused. Then Cliff said, “I did get run over by a bunch of bulls. They stampeded and my horse got gored in the side so we both went down.”

“Oh, no! I don't know what to say,” Cairn caught her breath then approach Cliff still leaning on the counter. She put her hand over his for comfort. Then she said, “I had no idea. What I said was just a flip off my tongue. I apologize, really I do. You have another horse?” Cairn was curious.

“Yeah, Rusty is my best, and really—my only cutting horse. He is at my buddy's ranch recuperating. He will be fine. The bleeding wounds looked ugly initially, but the bull did little damage. It was superficial. No stitches required. He'll be good to go in a few days. Many of us who work at these ranches just overnight our horses there. It makes it easy and saves trailer time.”

Cairn listened with concern and thought about the horse with shallow wounds, grateful Rusty was okay, and Cliff, too. Then she suggested, “Cliff dinner is ready, but why don't you go take a shower and relax. Then we'll take it from there. Do you have anything broken?”

Cliff looked up at Cairn. The blackness he came in the door with had faded. He took in Cairn's suggestion and nodded affirmative. Pulling back from the counter Cliff said, “The only thing broken is my ego.” With that he eeked out a smile and headed for the bathroom.

When Cliff returned clean and redressed in jeans and a flannel shirt he looked like he was going for another ride. A drink waited for him on the counter, “I pulled out what you had and mixed a little of each,” Cairn said and continued. “It should relax you.”

Cliff looked at the jar full of Cairn's concoction and then put back a big gulp. He made a funny lip jeer with the corner of his mouth and gasped out an, “Oh yeah,” and, “thanks, thanks a lot.”

“If you don't mind I am famished so I am going to eat. You can watched me if you want?” Cairn ribbed a little to see what Cliff would do. But tonight he didn't even take the bait.

“No, I'll eat. I better put something else in my gut besides this firewater,” Cliff stated, matter-of-factually.

So in peace and quiet they ate French Dip. With no animosity or any other agenda. Both just ate like a couple of old farm folks at the end of a long day. Cliff's color returned and he was coming back to his senses, despite the liquor. Then he spoke, “Ready to ride Bluebird tonight?”

Cairn thought: Really? This guy is made of one tough grit. Cairn found herself shaking her head yes to this observation. Cliff had his head down buried deep into his roast beef sandwich.

The barn in the late afternoon cast long shadows through the porthole windows. Cliff took a halter off the hook, and went in Bluebird's stall. Not a minute later, Bluebird wearing the halter followed Cliff over to a post where she got tied, “How much have you ridden, Cairn?” Cliff asked.

“Well, truthfully, not much. I went to Girl Scout camp as a teenager. It was fun going on the trails until my horse bit me on my arm and drew blood. It freaked me out and I haven't been on a horse since.”

“Oh boy,” Cliff sounded in awe. The he continued, “Well since your horse time is nil, don't mind that I treat you like a beginner. Now I'm gonna throw a lot of information at you. You are going to get overwhelmed, that is natural. Just remember experienced horse-masters are skilled because they have spent a lifetime on horseback. People around here grow up on horses. From the time they are born they are riding around with grandma or pa, or mom or dad. It is not that usual to see 4 year old kids riding a horse bigger than Bluebird. It gets in your blood. Now don't you worry about Bluebird. He is as gentle and easy as they come. He is in his twenties now, so he don't have no spook left.”

Cairn was already reeling with too much information. And she didn't know where to begin asking questions, but she did have one, “Bluebird is a HE? I thought HE was a SHE. How do you tell?”

“Look underneath. Boys have a penis, just like us guys. Mares, girl horses, have it all stashed under their tail nice and neat. Bluebird is a gelding. That means he has no balls and can't reproduce or breed a mare. Most male horses are gelded, or at least most all should be. Too much irresponsible breeding by people who know nothing of breeds. It's a shame as it is there are too many horses going without. Too many family horses go to the auction to be sold to kill buyers,” Cliff could see Cairn's face contort in disgust and continued on. “Yes, people eat horses too, especially in Europe. The worse thing is slaughter-houses have been banned in this country so horses get the double whammy. They travel in sickening conditions for days to get to an inhumane death that is unregulated north, and especially south of the border. Gosh, sorry, I can see I'm making you dizzy,” Cliff stopped for a bit and walked over to the tack room, which was the room under lock and key before.

Cairn's head swam with that bit of information. If she had been more in-tune with the horse industry she probably would have known. But how could she? Instead, she walked up near Bluebird's nose and stroked it softly. She trusted Cliff was right about Bluebird's safety. Cliff came walking back with a saddle pad and plopped it up on Bluebird's back. As he did so he said, “Now when you put a pad on, before you do, run your hands down his back on both sides. You want to make sure there are no burrs and anything that will give or cause him pain. Here, take this pad again and put it right up here, that's right, then run it back going with the hair, that's right. Now he ready for a saddle. Come with me,” Cliff instructed.

Cairn followed Cliff into the large tack room. There were at least six western saddles, a wall full of bridles and halters and a sitting area. Over the small kitchen area was row upon row of ribbons. All years’ winnings were represented along with trophy buckles, silver platters, bridles, and more. “Impressive,” Cairn pointed to the wall.

“Yeah, maybe. A trophy doesn't count for a man's real worth. But some make it so,” Cliff said this pragmatically. “The first few years of winning is fun, I guess. But it's all relative to anything you do in life. Some you win. Some you lose,” Cliff pointed to a saddle and said, “Cairn come here and see if you can lift this saddle. I want to know you can do this so if you want to ride during the day you can.”

Cairn came over and hoisted the saddle about four inches off the stand and then let go saying, “Wow, you got anything lighter weight? How much does that thing weight?”

“About 40 pounds. That's average. Come over here. If you can't pick this one up there is no hope,” Cliff waved her over and pointed to a fabric saddle.

Cairn rolled her eyes then picked this saddle up with ease, “Wow, easy. I'll take it!” And marched out to Bluebird patiently waiting. “Any instructions before I throw it up?”

“Nope, go ahead. Just center it up on the pad. Might make it easier if you throw that leg with the stirrup and the girth side over first,” Cliff was pointing and helping make the lift off easier. And with one swing up Cairn placed the saddle square.

Cairn relaxed and said, “Does this make me an expert yet?” Smiling, she wanted to see Cliff's reaction. He only shook his head with a slight smile. Cairn knew he was thinking: beginners luck.

Cliff began instructing again, “See this it's the girth. Bring it from underneath and cinch it up like this. Watch me do it. Don't cinch it tight until just before you get on. It's easier on the horse and saves pinched skin. Now come stand right here in front of me. I won't bite. At least not yet.” Cliff stood behind Cairn and took her right hand to the saddle flap and explained, “With the palm of your hand here you want the stirrup to bury itself in your armpit. If it fits comfortably, then that is your stirrup length. If not, you need to adjust the straps underneath. Now go around and do the other side by yourself.” Cliff waited and Cairn looked over the saddle with a thumbs up.

Cliff untied Bluebird and led him out of the barn, waving Cairn to follow them. The cowboy took his horse over to an arena filled with soft dirt. Then he turned to Cairn and told her to cinch up the saddle tight. She struggled with the simple task, but then Cliff stepped in to show her where and how to pull the straps to make it snug. Cairn nodded. Cliff said, “Hop on up here young lady.” Cairn surprised herself and popped right up into the saddle. Cliff led her around. Surprisingly, Cairn was relaxed. Of course she did not have to steer. Cliff looked over his shoulder and began moving away. Bluebird was stepping out into a bigger circle around Cliff who said, “This is lounging. I'll work you around me until you gain your seat. You don't have to worry about steering the horse. He is under my control on this long line. Anyway, Bluebird has taught all the grandchildren, and every first rider around these parts. He is a master teacher, better than me, so listen to him. We are going to work you in circles both ways until you relax. How do you feel?” Cliff asked.

Cairn knew she was in the best hands, so she replied, “I feel okay, I guess. Actually I feel inadequate, but I'll get over it.”

“Good. Now we'll begin,” Cliff stated and went on to give Cairn a load of information, “First, breathe, deep breaths down into your belly. This will help center and relax you. Never forget to breathe. The horse also knows when you are tense. Horses like relaxed riders. Next get rid of the tension. Start at your forehead. Wiggle it to be aware of stress then breathe that tension out. Work your way down your body to your toes. There is no rush, only awareness of your body parts. The whole point is to relax and once you do that your body will sink into the horse, become one with it. You are looking good,” Cliff was actually surprised at how quick Cairn got it. Then she explained.

“Amazing,” Cairn said then stated, “I've been doing yoga for years. What you just said ties in perfectly. I believe all realms of sports carry the same essence.”

“Maybe so,” Cliff said as he watched her position. “Now let's go one deeper. I want you to feel the horse beneath you. Feel his muscles in this walking gait. Loosen your hips and swing along with his stride. That's right. Good. Now I'm going to reverse. Your job is to ride each stride of the horse. Nothing more. Good again. I am going to reverse without telling you. Just ride the flow. And don't ask Bluebird for help.” Cliff lunged Cairn in circles, big ones, little ones, reversing direction and even stopping and backing up. Cairn just flowed with the current. When Cliff clicked to Bluebird the horse popped into a small jog trot. Cairn initially reached out for the saddle horn to stabilize, but quickly let go. Cliff could see her smiling and going with Bluebird's pace. Cliff clicked louder and the trot pace extended. Cairn concentrated on her balance. She found if she leaned back slightly riding the rhythm it got easy. Cliff told Bluebird to walk and he immediately went back into a walk. Without warning, Cairn began cantering, a very slow one, but cantering. She looked over and saw Cliff had a hand signal for everything he told Bluebird. So Cairn put her thumb up to indicate a faster canter. Within ten seconds Bluebird was loping along with big lanky strides. Cairn put her hands in the air and whooped loud. Then two bucks later, she found herself plopped in the dirt, and stunned.

“Ya can't 'whoop' on Bluebird,” Cliff walked up to her laughing. “See horses are like people. They have their likes and dislikes. A ‘whoop’ to this ole man is like getting smacked. Before I got him some kids had him. They smacked the crap out of him as they ran the Jezebels out of him and hollered their heads off. Guess what word they used? Well, Bluebird gets a flashback once in a blue moon when the W word is hollered at a particular pitch.”

“So does he have any other quirks that I should know about?” Cairn asked.

“Yeah, he likes carrot tops with spiky redheads,” Cliff laughed at he pulled Cairn to her feet. “Hold your horse, I'll be right back.” With that, he disappeared into the barn. A minute later, Cliff returned. “This is his bridle. I will show you how to put it on. First, come over here and unbuckle the halter. You can just let it drop. Bluebird don't care. I'll get it in a minute. Now stand here on the left up by his face. Good. See the top of the bridle? Put it behind his ears as you take the bit and push it up gently in between his teeth. Take it slow. That's good. Now take this, it's called the throat latch, over to your side and buckle it. Now you are bridled. Hop up my dear.”

Cairn popped up in the saddle once again. She took up the reins. Cliff told her to put herself out on the rail. Cairn played around to see what worked. Cliff had to teach again, “Look riding a horse is simple. You have your left and right rein and your left and right leg. Horses listen to everything you tell them, and even what you don't tell them. You are using a snaffle bit. It is a direct rein and right now that is best for you to connect the dots. And snaffle bits are kind. So put a bit of pressure on your right rein. Notice he gives his head only. Now put your left leg pressure on at the heal. Now he moves his body away from the pressure. This is basic, but it is a good place for you to practice. Your seat and how deep you are into your saddle will convey speed, rhythm and tempo. See your whole body works together. I don't expect you to get this all right now.”

Cairn took her new horse friend out and began playing with the pressures and signals Cliff gave her. It was like a whole new world had opened up. Cairn practiced the signals in the trot. Cliff looked on in surprise that a beginner was so adept. Once in awhile Cliff would toss in a piece of helping advice, but overall he kept still and just watched. Cairn worked at this like she did most projects: tenaciously and tirelessly. New things were meant to be conquered. Cliff disappeared into the barn and when he returned Cairn and Bluebird were loping around the arena like they had done it forever. Cliff clapped as he approached their pen. Cairn broke into the trot and came through the open gate that Cliff was holding.

“Not bad, my pretty one. Not bad. Sure you aren't pulling my leg about riding previously?” Cliff asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That was exhilarating. No. No lies. I only tell the truth. My best friend, Kelly, taught me that one. Before then I was a horrible liar,” Cairn sassed back with a mocking demeanor.

Together the couple unbridled, unsaddled, and gave Bluebird a cool sponge bath. As soon as Cairn let him back in his corral he rolled himself up into a dust bunny. Cliff filled all the hay troughs with dinner for all the critters. The black cat came running up to Cairn.

“This is your cat Cliff, isn't it?” Cairn asked as she reached down to pat the dirt off of it.

“Yup, her and her brother, although I haven't seen him around lately. Probably coyote bait,” Cliff said leaning up on a post for support. He was hurting from the bull stampede earlier. “Have you picked up Surprise yet?” Cliff said and reached down and scooped her up and cradled her on her back in the nook of his arm. Surprise!” said Cliff. The black cat turned into every bit of a colorful surprise. Those faint orange body-lines all converged to a vibrant orange and white sunburst on her under side.

“Oh my!” Exclaimed Cairn, and she came over to see the belly beaming with color. “Wow, she is a surprise. By the way what do you mean by coyote bait?” Cairn was concerned.

“Hmm. Probably shouldn't a said anything. Most all the cats in these parts are barn cats. They learn survival skills, or if they go wandering off they contribute themselves to a coyote's dinner. Survival of the fittest is just farm life.” Cliff could see Cairn writhe from the idea of a cat being eaten. “My dogs are good at guarding this place, so I don't worry to much about the cats. They are under good protection.” Cliff coughed, let go of Surprise, and leaned heavily in to the post.

“Dogs? I don't see any?” Cairn observed.

“Oh, yeah. Well I got four, but they are staying overnight with my horse at the ranch. They like their slumber parties,” Cliff winked and walked toward the stairs. “Say, you are riding great. And I don't say that to just any rookie. If you want to ride Bluebird when I'm not here then ride only in the arena. Don't leave the property. I gotta go up now.”

“Cliff, are you sure you haven't broke something?” Cairn asked, without receiving a response. “I'll be up in a bit. I'll water the cows and horses.”

When Cairn went up she realized it was late. The sun had set over the mountains. The house was still. As she passed Cliff's bedroom she stopped in the doorway. He was plumb out sprawled across the bed corner to corner. He managed to remove his clothes down to his underwear and got himself tucked under a sheet. Cairn could not help it, but feelings of endearment welled up. Could this cowboy from Drewsey be stealing my heart? Cairn didn't want to entertain that thought for she for certain could not, would not live this lifestyle out here in Tim-buck-two-land.

Bluebird

The following morning, Cairn had set her alarm for 6am. She wanted to get back up on Bluebird before the heat of the day set in. Pulling on her jeans, tee shirt and hard-soled shoes; she would take her shower later when she was sticky with sweat. The house felt vacant. Cliff was gone early. He left a note on the table: Gone early to the ranch to check my horse. Will be back by 5. xox Cairn looked at the xox, the universal language for hugs and kisses. She wondered: Is this a break through?

Bluebird was saddled up, bridled, and being lead out of the barn when Cairn saw a man standing next to the far side of the arena. One foot was propped up on a fence rail like he was going to climb over, but he didn't. The man wore a chamois outfit with fringe on the under arms and legs. His hair was black, long, and his face tanned with character wrinkles. He was definitely dark skinned, a Native American most likely. He said nothing, but waved to Cairn as she emerged into the low morning sunlight from the dusky light of the barn. Cairn squinted to adjust her vision and subverted her eyes down. When she drew near the arena the man appeared to be gone. Cupping her hands over her eyes for shade, Cairn searched the landscape. The local was indeed gone. He vanished as easily as he had come. Could he be the same spirit man that she had seen yesterday?

Apparition or not, Cairn was feeling this was nature's way in these remote valleys. Without the crowding of concrete cities and hoards of people, out here there was less, which somehow seemed to equal more. If one could remain quiet, Cairn was positive the earth would tell her secrets. At day number three on the farm, Cairn was acclimating to the terrain, the temperature, and her temporary life at the ranch. She didn't particularly like this desolate area, but she was learning to adapt.

Bluebird was lead to the middle of the arena. Cairn swung the reins over his neck. Something caught her eye in the dirt just behind Bluebird's front foot. It looked to be cloth. The arena was impeccably clean the night before, at least Cairn thought it was. She bent down to pick up the cloth and paused. It was faded red and woven; a partner to the one left for her yesterday. Cairn was in motion stillness bent over under Bluebird's belly when she got slammed in the head. She fell forward, flat on her stomach, laying full out under Bluebird. Holy hell, what happened? Cairn raised her head and looked around to find Bluebird's nose reaching around to figure Cairn out. He never moved a muscle, or a foot. Cairn got up on her hands and knees and crawled out from underneath him. The saddle had rotated fully and now rode Bluebird's belly upside down.

Cairn got up and dusted herself off. She grabbed the horn of the saddle and hoisted it upward to Bluebird's back. It wouldn't budge. Now Cairn got it. She never fully cinched up the girth. The question was how to get the saddle in the upright position again when everything was upside down. Cairn reefed and pulled and pushed the saddle hoping to get it topside, but no luck. Blueberry stood patient, his head down in waiting. Finally, Cairn did the obvious. She loosened the leather cinch. The saddle fell to the ground making a puff of dust. Bluebird had seen it all. Without flinching, batting an eye, or swishing his tail, he stood still as a statue.

Cairn restarted from the ground up. It took awhile, but eventually Bluebird was wearing an upright, proper saddle. And, it was cinched up nice and snug. “And, that is how it's done, Bluebird,” Cairn told the horse as if he was clueless. “Yeah, I know. You've had more saddling time in your life than I'll ever do in mine. Gosh you are a good boy.” Cairn petted his neck and then mounted the saddle.

Cairn reminisced a certain truth: there are things that can only be learned by mistakes, then her thought expanded to: and this horse is the perfect catalyst for such learning. Cairn realized then that having the privilege of being in the presence of a horse can allow a person to grow and gain great knowledge in ways unique to and only imparted by equines. Cairn had just experienced that a horse will reflect or deflect your every movement. They mirror your inner and outer being. And although horses are impressively large, their size is an illusion for their sensitivities are a subtle language of great magnificence. Cairn could see where equestrians are constantly challenged by the mastery of such depths of learning that each horse can unveil. Cairn's depth of understanding deepened as she rode Bluebird around the corral. Just in her folly of a fallen saddle, Cairn was able to embrace Bluebird's equine essence; that was one of being a saint of understanding.

Feeling her hips sway to and fro. Letting her body rock with Bluebird's gait. Relaxing and breathing and relieving all her body tension allowed Cairn's mind to absorb more. One hand fiddled inside her light jacket pocket. She withdrew what she placed there before her head on collision with the saddle. It was the faded, woven piece of blanket. Cairn stuck it back in pocket. She would save and compare it to the other found yesterday.

Cairn had a thought: The dark man must have placed it there in the arena for me to find. And in finding it, he helped save me from a bad saddle wreck. Could it be that this spirit was guiding—helping—me find my way while here? Three days and three vanishing men. Each one gave Cairn something of value. The chief along the river imparted introspection. The warrior on the hill, guided her reconnection with the outside world. This local native left a token to protect her from a potential accident. Cairn wondered: Were these all the same men, perhaps one spirit guide sent to follow and protect me?

For the next hour and a half, Cairn rode Bluebird into a slight sweat. She played with rein positions and leg pressures. She practiced leg yields, which made her mount move on various diagonals. Bluebird was cooperative and knew before Cairn asked what she wanted. He was a smart old one. Getting the mechanics understood was a fun challenge. But the true school of horsemanship went beyond these body basics. Attuning to a horse's physique, and truly understanding its psyche, reached above elementary principles. The mastery of a horse seemed somehow fundamental. Yet man was the recipient of profound learning that spanned thousands of years in partnership with the horse. Cairn began to see why cowboys—all horse people—held their mounts in high regard.

Cairn loved to lope. It was easy. A liberating sensation. Bluebird's rocking horse gait put a smile on her face. While she was on the farm, Cairn decided to treasure these moments on Bluebird. She recognized this life was not for her. The more Cairn agreed with this admission, the more freedom of self-came. Not having to commit to anything at this ranch, but only each moment, released her conscious from any fault. Her whole life seemed directed and hedged in and restrictive. Even her job, that she loved, was institutionalized. One could not get more rigid with regulations than working in a brokerage house where numbers ruled life.

Being in nature and on this farm unplugged Cairn from the cement society she knew. While a few days back she longed to return, now the city could wait. Comfort zones, Cairn surmised, were just what a person got use to. When Bluebird had been bathed, Cairn put him away and gave him breakfast. It was time to go up the hill and call Kelly.

Today's news included new adventures. Cairn's horse mastery both atop Bluebird and in the dirt left the girls laughing. Plus another puzzle piece to the mystery man story provoked many theories. Up top the hill once more the best friends talked, giggled, and puzzled over the farm phantoms until Kelly had to return back to work.

Engine Jo

Cairn was scuffing down the slope almost to the bottom when a young boy of ten pedaled by on his very old Schwinn three-speed bike. Cairn perked up and ran his direction waving her hand overhead, “Hey wait there, hold on... can you stop for a sec?” Cairn asked the young red headed boy. “Do you live around here?” Then Cairn stopped and thought: Silly of me, of course he does! Then she said, “I'm a guest of Cliff Wallace, stayin’ here at the farm. I've been here a few days and not sure I can find my way out to the main road. Could you show me? Ride with me in my car? I'll pay you.”

The boy perked up, then said, “I guess so. You are not some weirdo are you lady? I mean you for real and all... not some spirit ghost?” The lad was standing beside his bike scuffing his feet in the dirt, assessing Cairn. He noticed her hair color and his were the exact shade of orange-red.

Cairn listened to the kid and thought what to say next to convince him she was legit. “Listen, I don't blame you. I'm a perfect stranger out of nowhere,” She paused and looked at the boy intensely and said. “What did you say about the spirit ghost?”

The boy clammed up and murmured, “Nothing.”

“Wait one second. Please tell me what you know. I have been seeing a ghost of a dark man, perhaps a Native local to here. He comes every day to show me something,” Cairn told the boy. “If you know something, I really need to know.”

The young lad brightened up when Cairn told of her encounter. He believed Cairn. Then he advised, “You need to go see Engine Jo. He can tell you all about the ghost land.”

“Really? Can you take me there?” Cairn asked and said, “I'll pay you.”

“How much?” The boy was weighing his options.

“Ten bucks enough?” Cairn enticed the savvy child.

“Done deal,” the boy slapped his dirty hands together then asked, “Can I take my bike with us?”

“Sure, as long as it fits in the back of my wagon. Why don't you walk it over to the tailgate,” Cairn instructed then pointed.

Cairn ran to get her keys and her purse and came back. The young man was waiting patiently at the back of her wagon. Cairn smiled to herself thinking the boy probably had nothing else to do. I might very well the highlight of his day. Together, both of the red heads partnered to wedge the bike carefully into the back end. The wagon started up and the boy in the passenger seat pointed the way to go, that was out the back-side of the property.

“You sure?” Cairn questioned.

“My whole life sure. Say, did that bully cowboy Frank bring you up the rut way?” The kid asked. Cairn nodded yes. Then the kid said, “Well he is cranky and don't want no bother so he scares people off.”

Cairn listened and made a low huffing noise expelled through her mouth. If not for this young cowpoke she would have gone and braved the ruts out only she didn't know which way out was. Her new friend pointed down a smooth and graveled dirt road. Cairn's vehicle found it's way easily without fanfare to the main road.

At the T-intersection, the boy pointed opposite the main road. “Engine Jo lives up in the trees along the creek. It's not far,” Cairn obeyed his directions. After seven miles, the youngster pointed to a very nice long travel trailer in the trees and said, “There. In that driveway. This is Engine Jo's place. Can I get my bike out now?”

When Cairn pulled her car into the driveway, she noted the area was well wooded with mature pine trees. Plenty of shade was provided on a hot summer day. The trailer obviously served as the main living quarters. There was an ample wooden porch with steps leading up to it. This was the main, and only entrance. The yard was an assembly of lawn chairs around a large fire pit that held a cooking kettle. The grounds were a cozy camp spot in privacy, complete with greenery, compliments from a healthy robust creek. Cairn and the boy got out and opened the backside of the wagon. The bike slid out much easier than going in. The boy hopped on and turned to the direction they came.

“Hey wait a minute, before you go,” Cairn reached into her pocket and pulled out a twenty. “A deal is a deal.”

His young eyes bulged as he looked at the twenty-dollar bill in his hand. Then he looked at Cairn and said, “Wow, thanks lady.” With that, he turned and pedaled down the road. Cairn never saw him again.

The screen door on the trailer had slammed decisively shut. Cairn turned around and walked in that direction. “The kid there, said I should talk to you. Engine Jo is it?” She asked, as she put her hand out.

The large man looked at her extended hand, but did not take it. “Why?” asked the man. Cairn could see that 'Engine Jo' was a warrior in his own rite. Before her was a Native American man, well tanned wearing a pseudo Indian clothing, but it suited him. His camel pants where fringed from hip to ankle. It was held up by a studded purple bling belt and adorned in front by a huge trophy buckle. His barely a shirt resembled the pants in camel color but lacked sleeves and had an open front down to his navel. Many beaded necklaces in various lengths circled his neck. All strands were completely different. Engine Jo was pudgy, overweight a tad, but not fat. His arms were large, his fingers short and stocky, his belly protruded some, and his neck was thick. What one might think of him as a retired football player.