Cullen’s were planning a branding for the second week in August. Laurel and Carly were looking forward to it because while it meant a lot of hard work and long hot days, it also meant everyone would come together and there’d be BBQ and a bit of a party at the end of the day. Coll was full of questions about what part could he play in the whole endeavour.
Laurel looked over at him leaning on the porch rail with the red and orange sunset sky behind him. Coll bore little resemblance to the boy who arrived in June. His boots were scuffed and stained with corral mud, he wore his wranglers like he was born in them and the wide brim of the western hat swept low on his forehead.
“You look like a real Albertan now, Coll. It’s gonna seem strange when you have to go home at the end of the month. I’ll miss having you around.”
“Home seems like another lifetime now.” He pushed the hat back on his head a bit. “It’s like there’s the me that lives with Gramma and pals around with Gort and Ash and then there’s the me that loves to be here with you. I’m gonna miss this.” He waved his arm at the sweep of prairie and the wide breadth of sky where the first stars were starting to prick the pale royal blue heavens. “There’s so much space here, openness. Watching the wind blow across the fields is almost like looking at the waves on the ocean back home.” He paused. “I do miss the ocean and the cliffs.”
“Me too. And I really hate that there’s no chance I can see Gramma Bella here.” Laurel came to stand beside him, leaning a hip on the porch railing. Coll covered her hand with his and squeezed gently.
“You could always come for a visit, maybe next summer or…”
“That seems such a long ways away.” She tipped her head and blinking in the glare of the porch light that flicked on as the twilight deepened.
“I know.” He sighed, eyes on the western horizon where the last pink and gold reflections of sunset faded into the deepening blue of the sky. He slipped an arm around her waist and drew her closer, bending to kiss her.
Laurel laughed and pulled his hat off when the brim banged hers and made it impossible for his lips to find hers. “Rule number one, cowboy. Take off the hat before kissing the girl.” She put her free hand on his chest where his heart tripped against her fingertips and kissed him instead.
“Laurie?” Colt’s voice broke the pair apart with a guilty start. “You out here?” The boards of the porch echoed under his boot heels.
“Over here, Dad,” she responded taking another step away from Coll and handing him the hat still in her hand.
Her dad appeared around the corner of the house. “Mom’s got supper ready and she could use some help making sandwiches for tomorrow. Before you come in, can you run and get some of those empty plastic containers from the old summer kitchen? Mom needs them for the chili.” Colt stopped by his daughter’s side and eyed the evening sky. “Looks like it’ll be a nice day tomorrow.” He shoved both hands into the pockets of the worn jeans. “Should be a good day for a branding. Tell your mom I’ll be there in a few minutes, I need to check with Harry about that calf with the bad eye. Don’t forget the containers.” He dropped a kiss on the top of Laurel’s head, before heading toward the barns, his long legs swallowing the distance.
Laurel pushed away from the rail and took Coll’s hand. The days were going so fast, before she knew it he’d be on the plane back to Cornwall. Her grip tightened, every minute with him was important and she didn’t want to waste a second. The old summer kitchen which Gramma Bella used to cook in when she first came to the ranch all those years ago was behind the house. Even in the dark, the path was familiar under her feet. The faint starlight gave enough light, so she had no trouble finding the latch.
“Hold the door open, will you? There’s no power out here.” Laurel felt her way across the dark interior until she found the cupboard her mom used for storing extra kitchen stuff. The cool plastic of the stacked containers met her fingers and she pulled out a good-sized pile. “Got ’em,” she announced and made her way back to Coll who waited by the door. Instead of moving aside to let her pass, he pulled her against him and bent his head to hers. His first attempt missed the mark and his lips found her ear which gave her a totally unexpected and very pleasant jolt. Her indrawn breath was swallowed by his mouth on hers a split second later. There was something different in his kiss, a kind of wild longing and desperation that she let carry her along before it began to overwhelm her. Laurel braced a hand on his chest and leaned back. “Coll…I…” her voice was husky, and she hardly had the breath to form the words.
“Laurel,” his voice was as strained as hers. “Laurel, I’m gonna miss you so much.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair and jammed the hat back on. “How am I supposed to go back home feeling like this and leave you here?” His eyes were huge in his pale face.
“I don’t want you to go, either. But I don’t know what else we can do. You need to go back to Emily and you need to go back to school so you can write those exams you were talking about. For Cambridge?”
“Laurel? Coll?” Anna’s voice called from the kitchen door.
“Coming, Mom. I was just getting the containers Dad asked me to bring you.” She ran a finger down Coll’s cheek, rough with newly sprouted whiskers. “We’ll figure something out,” she assured him. We have to. This must be how Ash and Gort feel about each other. No wonder they want to be together all the time.
Coll backed out of the doorway and down onto the path, Laurel followed pulling the summer kitchen door closed behind her and dropping the latch into place. Coll took the pile of plastic dishes from her and let Laurel go ahead. Anna held the screen door open for them.
“You can put those on the counter, Coll. Thanks for getting them for me. Where’s your dad?” Anna looked out into the gathering night.
“He said to tell you he’s coming as soon as he checks on that calf with the bad eye and sees what Harry thinks about it,” Laurel said over the sound of running water while she washed her hands. “How many sandwiches do we need to make still?” She dried her hands and hung the towel back on the rail.
“Not ’til after supper. But I got a bit behind this afternoon, so there’s still a couple of loaves of ham to do and the egg salad.”
“What can I do to help?” Coll hung his hat on the peg by the back door and went to wash his hands as well.
“That’s sweet, Coll.” Anna smiled at him. “I got the eggs hard boiled and in the fridge, but they need to be peeled and chopped up. It would be a big help if you can manage that after we eat.” She turned at the sound of boots on the back step and Colt appeared in the doorway. “Oh good, there you are. Just in time.” She tipped her head up for her husband’s kiss. “How’s the calf?”
Colt removed his hat and hung it on the rack by the door, wiping his hands down the thighs of his jeans as he turned back toward her. “Harry says it’s coming along okay. He’s still got some of the ointment from the vet, enough for another five days. He figures it should be cleared up by then.”
“Well, that’s good news.” Anna smiled. “You can go sit Coll, Laurel and I will get supper on the table.”
“Whatever it is smells good.” He grinned at her.
Laurel helped her mom transfer the bowl of baked potatoes and another of beans over to the big table in the kitchen. Anna went out to the BBQ on the side porch and came back with steaks piled high on a platter. Conversation lagged over the supper table. When they were done, Coll and Laurel cleared up.
“Why don’t you go sit on the porch while we do the dishes?” Laurel suggested. “It’s a nice night and you’ve been in the kitchen all day.”
Anna glanced at her tall husband. “Coming? I’m not going to turn down a chance to avoid doing the dishes.” Amusement sparkled in her blue eyes.
Colt grinned and took her hand, leading her out the door and disappearing into the living room on the way to the front porch.
“Dad would never have done that before Mom got sick.” Laurel turned back to gathering the dishes from the table. Coll followed her to the kitchen island, placing his load of plates on the counter. “He’d always disappear into his office after supper to do paperwork. Now he always makes time for Mom. I like it.” She smiled and bent to load more silverware into the dishwasher.
“They seem to get along well, not like some of the couples you can hear rowing in the terraces near Gramma’s.”
“Really?” Laurel paused and looked up at him. “You can actually hear your neighbors arguing?”
Coll nodded. “Certainly, especially if they have the windows open or are in the back garden. That’s how everybody knows everybody else’s business, I guess.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t care less, but Ash’s mom lives for the drama and I think Gramma secretly enjoys it too.”
“There, that’s that.” Laurel put a detergent pod in the compartment and shut the dishwasher door, pressing the start button when it latched. She moved to the big slow cooker on the counter and lifted the lid, giving the contents a stir with the wooden spoon. “We might as well start filling those containers with the chili.”
“I’ll do that,” Coll volunteered.
“’Kay, I’m gonna do the ham sandwiches. I hate peeling eggs,” Laurel said with a grimace. She pulled open a drawer and handed Coll a ladle to transfer the chili. Then she moved to the fridge and pulled out the large ham her mother had baked with honey and some other concoction the day before.
“Bloody hell,” Coll muttered.
“Here.” Laurel turned and tossed him a cloth to wipe up the spilled chili. She pulled a long sharp instrument from the wooden knife block and a plate from the cupboard before attacking the ham. From long practice, she peeled off fairly thin slices and rapidly had a nice sized heap on the plate. Earlier, Anna had left a few loaves of bread from the freezer on the counter to thaw. Laurel was relieved to find them nicely thawed and not at all soggy. Spreading them out in a long row down the counter, she collected butter, mayonnaise and a sharp mustard from the fridge. Like an assembly line, she plastered the bread with the condiments, alternating between butter and mayonnaise and being liberal with the mustard. Once she’d completed that task, she piled generous portions of ham on each and covered them with another slice of bread. Using the same knife, she cut each sandwich in half and then slid the pieces into a zip lock baggie. By the time she was done, the ham was considerably smaller, and Coll had finished wrestling with the chili.
“What do we do with all this?” His wave encompassed the chili containers and Laurel’s pile of bagged sandwiches.
“They go in Dad’s beer fridge out on the side porch for now. We’ll pack them into the coolers in the morning.”
Together they ferried the items out to the porch and into the waiting fridge. “Mom made him clear out most of his beer so we’d have room. I think he just moved it over to the little house or the tack room.”
Coll looked across to where the lights of a small cabin gleamed in the darkness. “Is that where your gramma lived when she was here?”
“Ummhmmm.” Laurel moved to stand beside him, moving closer when his arm came around her. “I remember when I was really young I used to play over there. She always had roses growing by the door. Sometimes they only lasted one summer, but she went out and bought more every spring. She’d tell me all kinds of stories. She talked a lot about an old guy called Red. He worked for Grampa D’Arcy but she said he was more than a hired hand and he actually helped deliver the baby when she had my dad. He was retired, but I kinda remember an old cowboy who used to come see her pretty regular. He was always nice to me, but I was pretty small, I don’t really remember him. I do remember him and Gramma Bella holding each other up at Grampa D’Arcy’s funeral and him crying and saying he never thought D would go first.” Laurel shook her head. She shivered in the cool breeze that blew down from the hills. “C’mon, let’s go in.”
She blinked in the bright light of the kitchen and pulled the door shut behind them. “Ugh, eggs.” She glared at the stainless-steel refrigerator.
“Wow, you two have been busy.” Anna drifted into the kitchen, slipping off her sweater as she did. Colt’s boots echoed in the hall as he went along to his office.
“There’s a bit of chili left in the slow cooker that didn’t fit into the containers. We put them and two loaves of ham sandwiches out in Dad’s beer fridge,” Laurel reported. “We haven’t had a chance to get at the eggs yet.”
Anna glanced at the clock. “It’s getting late and we have to get going early, before sun up, so why don’t you guys go on to bed. I can finish the egg salad.” She kissed Laurel on the forehead. “I know how much you love to peel eggs.” Anna laughed affectionately. “Go on, then.” She shooed them toward the stairs. “Go to bed, don’t sit up talking all night.”
Laurel blushed in the dim light of the hall and caught Coll’s eye. She thought they’d been very careful when Coll would creep into her room, or she into his, after her parents went to bed. Time seemed to be moving so fast and it was such a waste to spend time on sleeping when they could be together. There was something almost magic about those hours early in the morning, right after midnight when the whole world was asleep except the coyotes or the occasional whoosh of owl wings outside her open window. Laurel imagined they were enclosed in a bubble where they could stop time moving forward and talk about anything and everything. With a thick quilt wrapped around them, Coll and her, would sit on the floor leaning against the bed, sometimes watching the moonlight move across the floor. Sometimes, they didn’t talk at all, just sat quietly with his arms around her and shared kisses and caresses. Laurel wanted more, but Coll was obviously more mature than she was and stopped before it went too far. She grinned, maybe he was just more afraid of Dad than she was.
Dad would have kittens if he ever found out how she spent the early morning hours and Laurel believed they’d been pretty successful in hiding it from her parents. Trust Mom to figure it out, but it didn’t look like she was going to rat them out.
“My room or yours,” she whispered when they paused at the top of the stairs.
“I think we should just go to sleep tonight, luv. It’s gonna be an early morning.”
“You’re probably right…it’s just there’s only so many nights left…”
Coll nodded. “I don’t want to be tired tomorrow though, I’m nervous enough about doing something wrong.”
“Just stick with me, you’ll be fine, and Jewel knows what she’s doing. She’ll keep you out of trouble. Just give her her head if you’re worried.”
Coll didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “Night, luv.” He moved toward the door of his room.
“Night.” Laurel waited until the door closed behind him before going into her own room. She yawned as she got into her pyjamas. Maybe Coll was right, morning would come far too early and Dad would be itching to get things moving. She sighed and climbed into bed, wishing Coll was there to help warm up the cold sheets. Even in summer once the sun went down the cool air slid down out of the mountains to the west and made sleeping under the covers necessary. She rolled over and started counting the days that were left before Coll had to go home. Beau scratched at the door with his paw prompting her to get up and let him in before Dad yelled and put the dog outside for the night. He claimed Laurel spoiled the animal by letting him sleep in her room, but he never said anything unless Beau made enough noise to wake him up.
The big shepherd flopped on rug by her bed with a deep sigh and rested his head on his outstretched paws. Laurel ruffled his ears before sliding back under the covers. “Go to sleep,” she whispered. It would be nice to see Carly tomorrow, they hadn’t had much of a chance to get together since Calgary. Chance. She sighed and rolled over. He’d be there tomorrow, she hoped he’d be civil and not play some dumb prank on Coll or anybody else. He must have inherited his mean streak from his dad, she’d heard Mom make that remark to Dad one time when she thought Laurel wasn’t in earshot.
* * *
“Hey Princess, time to get up.”
Dad’s voice dragged her out of a great dream she couldn’t remember the minute she opened her eyes. He banged on Coll’s door next and then thumped down the stairs to the kitchen. By the time Laurel dressed and opened her bedroom door, the rich smell of coffee reached her. Coll’s door was closed when she went by and she hesitated. Should I check and see if he’s up or… The rattle of her dad pulling the truck and trailer up in front of the house decided her. She ran down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Hey, I didn’t know you were already up.” She was surprised to find Coll already in the kitchen helping her mom load the cooler.
“Morning, sleepy head.” Mom smiled affectionately at her. “There, that’s all that’ll fit in there.” She closed the cooler lid. “Would you take that out to Colt, please?”
“Of course.” Coll hefted the heavy cooler easily and disappeared out the door.
Laurel helped herself to some coffee and leaned on the island blinking sleep from her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m so tired. I went to bed early enough last night,” she complained.
Anna smiled and handed her a jug of iced tea. “Take that out too, would you?”
The eastern sky had a just a hint of pearly grey when Colt pulled out of the yard. Laurel slouched in the backseat of the truck still nursing her go mug of coffee. She suppressed a surge of irritation at Coll’s excitement. God, how can anyone be so cheerful this early in the morning? Dad glanced in the rear-view mirror and caught her expression.
“Laurie’s not a morning person,” he sang.
She grimaced at him and refused to rise to his teasing.
“You better watch out, Coll. Don’t cross her before the sun comes up.”
Laurel pulled her hat down over her eyes and ignored her father. She woke with a start when a truck door slammed. Scrambling upright, she pushed her hat back and blinked to clear her bleary eyes. The sky was bleeding shades of red and orange undershot with gold and pink. Near the horizon the morning stars still glimmered in the pale blue of the sky. The Cullen’s corrals were alive with people and horses. The bellowing of cattle gathered into the pens was in sharp counterpoint to the shouts of the men and the chatter of the wives.
Coll was already out, helping Dad unload the horses. Laurel slid out of the truck and hurried to help Mom with the food. Mrs. Cullen and Carly had everything set up under a big tent by the house. Coolers of pop and beer sat nearer the branding corrals.
“You okay?” Laurel asked her friend who looked a bit pale with unaccustomed lines of worry creasing her forehead.
“I’m good,” Carly answered shortly. “I’ll fill you in later.”
Laurel left her to go and saddle Sam. She swung up into the saddle and jogged toward the huddle of riders near the pens. Jewel was easy to pick out of the crowd and she pulled up beside Coll, admiring how easy he looked in the western saddle now. His forearm rested on the horn, the reins held loose in his fingers, free arm crossed over the rein hand. He leaned forward to catch what Mr. Cullen was saying. Having gotten their orders, they moved off and the rest of the morning was lost in the chore of separating calf from cow and the resulting bawling of mother and calf to one another. The sharp stink of burning hair and flesh rose from the area where the branding irons were being applied. It would take a couple of showers to get the smell out of her hair. Laurel stopped Sam by the edge of the pen, waiting until the next head was called for. She pulled a bottle of water out of her pocket and took a huge drink. Dust hung in a haze over the corrals and pens and stuck in her nose. She tied the empty bottle to her saddle and removed her hat to wipe the sweat off her forehead. Even the hot breeze felt good on her head. Her palms were slick in the leather gloves and her shirt stuck to her back. August brandings always seemed to be either hotter than hell or cold, windy and rainy. Laurel wasn’t sure which she disliked more.
She glanced over at Coll sitting on Jewel near a bunch of other riders. She hadn’t had time to pay much attention to how he was making out, but the men seemed to have accepted him, so he must have kept out of trouble. Laurel pushed her sleeve up and glanced at her watch. One-thirty. She shifted Sam so she could see how the boys were coming with the last calf. The Westcott boy released the red and white calf and slapped the dust from his jeans. Laurel shifted her weight and lifted her reins in preparation to bring another one along.
“That’s it ’til after lunch, Laurie.” Chance stuck the iron back in the fire and pulled a bandana out of a back pocket to wipe his sweaty face.
She gritted her teeth at his use of the stupid nick name. Only Dad called her Laurie. She waved to indicate she heard and slid Sam over to the gate. She leaned down and lifted the latch before neatly maneuvering him through and closing it again.
“Nice trick. Can you show me how to do that?” Coll and Jewel rode up to join her.
“At home,” Laurel replied, still annoyed at Chance.
Coll looked at her and shrugged. “I’m starving. Let’s go get something to eat.”
“Horses first,” Laurel said turning Sam toward the shady side of the trailer. Dad’s gelding Red was already standing hipshot and half-asleep ignoring the hay net by his head. Dad, or maybe Mom, had filled the other two nets. “Can you put the halters on? I’ll get the water.” Laurel ground tied Sam.
By the time she’d filled two buckets with water and carried them back, Coll had both horses haltered and loosened the cinches. She was glad he’d remembered to leave the near side stirrup thrown across the saddle to indicate the cinch was loose. Laurel never put a foot in the stirrup without checking the cinch herself. It was a safety measure her dad insisted on when she was younger, and she’d passed it on to Coll.
Lunch was eaten in shifts. To Laurel’s regret Mr. Cullen put her to working with Chance and she was finding it hard to ignore him. She made a point of sitting between Coll and Harry Good Smoke while she ate, so she only had to put up with Chance looking her way every time she raised her eyes, and him knocking her hat askew whenever he walked by.
“Thet boy has it bad for you.” Harry laughed the second time her hat came off. “When you gonna give him a break?”
“As if.” Laurel picked up her hat and scowled after Chance.
“I suppose he thinks it’s funny?” Coll offered.
Laurel snorted and finished her sandwich. A group of cowboys in deep conversation wandered over into the shade. Her attention was piqued at the mention of the cull. She shifted backward a couple of inches and tilted her head toward the group. Beside her, Coll turned and began to say something. She shushed him with her hand and nodded toward the group. He nodded, and half-turned in that direction.
“See you later.” Harry rose and went to refill his coffee cup. Some of the others held cans of Coors but Harry never touched the stuff to Laurel’s knowledge. She leaned back a bit more trying not to draw attention to herself.
“Cory told me on the sly he’s going to get the permits soon,” Hank Jones said loud enough for Laurel to hear clearly.
“I haven’t heard anything yet, how come he got that information,” Jack Carver sounded annoyed.
“Wal…ya know, Cory’s on the committee ain’t he?” old Mr. Mills drawled and spit a stream of tobacco juice.
“That don’t seem fair,” Harvey Mills growled. “Why should Cullen get preferential treatment just ’cause he’s on the committee and sucking up to the government?”
“It’s always been that way. His daddy did the same kind of thing to get the grazing leases back in the day. Cullen learned the tricks at his daddy’s knee.”
There was a general muttering of disgust and disagreement though Laurel couldn’t make out anything in particular. She glanced over at Coll and raised her eyebrows in alarm. The last time she’d mentioned the cull to her dad he’d said from what he’d heard they weren’t going to call for one this year. She knew that was wrong, Dad was probably thinking he was sparing her or something. She turned her attention back to eavesdropping shamelessly on the conversation.
“I got as much right to catch those wildies as Cullen does,” George Hall growled. “All he’s gonna do is sell them right to the meat buyers.” He glared at the circle of men around him. “You know I’m right. Don’t matter what they tell those conservation groups about adopting them out, Cullen sends ’em right to the packers or sells ’em to the meat guys, whichever will get him the most dough.”
“Nobody’s disagreein’ with you, George. I got my name in for a permit too and I haven’t heard squat. Last time I tried to get an answer they told me they’re unsure whether a cull was necessary this year. What a load of crap.” Josh Elliot groused. “I’m so sick of those guys up in Edmonton lying through their teeth, saying two things out of different sides of their mouths.”
There was a general muttering of agreement. Laurel stood up and motioned for Coll to follow her.
“I heard Cullen was asking some of his kid’s friends to come out and help build the traps. He’s planning to bait them, but you know as well as I do, he’ll drive the horses into the corrals if he has to. He won’t care if one or two get banged up. ’Specially the young ones, they don’t bring much for meat anyway. More a nuisance than anything else.”
Jack Carver’s comment stopped Laurel in her tracks. She swallowed and grabbed Coll’s hand, dragging him out of earshot of the group. “I hate him! I hate them all,” she hissed, close to tears. “All they care about is money and grass for their stupid cows. Those horses don’t hurt the land any more than those elk they put on Suffield after they ran the mustangs out of there.” She let go of his hand to wipe her eyes and stalked toward the trailer.
“What did they do at Suffield?” Coll hurried to keep up with her.
“It was back in the early ninety’s according to Dad. There used to be wild horses on the Canadian Forces Base at Suffield. When they fenced in the base back in the mid nineteen sixties, a bunch of mustangs got fenced in too. Before that the original horses sometimes interbred with quarter horses, thoroughbreds, and Arabs that got loose, or the stallions stole from ranches, but mostly they kept the gene pool pretty closed. The stupid provincial government decided they needed to remove all of the horses instead of managing the population.”
“Why? Wouldn’t it have been better to just do some herd management?” Coll scratched his cheek.
“I don’t know. They were idiots, same as now. Probably somebody paid somebody off, good old boys club. Anyway, they rounded them up and removed all of them and sold them to anybody who’d pay for them. Some of them went to the packers, but some got adopted and a bunch of people got together and bought up as many as they could. They wanted to keep the mustang strain as pure as they could and keep the history alive. Old Red told me once that people used to come from all over the world to see the Suffield mustangs, even from Europe.”
“So, some of those horses are still alive? The breed, if you can call it that, isn’t extinct?”
“Oh yeah, they’re all over the place now, not just in Alberta. There are people who are actually breeding them now and keeping records. But it’s not the same, they deserve to be free and live like they’re supposed to.”
“Why do they need to cull them? Aren’t there enough natural things that could happen to them?” Coll slid Jewel’s bridle on and tightened the cinch.
“The government says the horses don’t have any natural predators, which is a load of horse shit. They lose some every year to old age, injury, cougars, wolves and the hard winters. Not to mention those babies can get covered in ticks in a bad year.” Laurel ground her teeth and turned her back to tighten Sam’s cinch, dropping the fender and stirrup down when she was finished. “It makes me so mad. There’s got to be something we can do about it.” She swung up onto Sam’s back and waited for Coll to mount Jewel.
“What can you do, though? It’s not like they’re breaking the law or anything.” Coll nudged Jewel up beside her.
“Rowan! Get your ass over here,” Chance yelled from the pen where he and Charley Yancy were waiting.
“Jack ass,” she muttered but touched Sam’s side and loped back to work. Coll went back to his job and she was too busy the rest of the day to worry about him or the wild horses.