Chapter Three – Lonely Nights and Quiet Days

Brecklin Murphy sat on the front steps of the School of Natural and Holistic Self-Reliance, two hours outside of Phoenix and approximately eight miles from Roosevelt Lake in Arizona. The 13 acres of verdant land nestled in the Tonto National Forest was reachable by a coarse country road and burrowed in a remote valley sheltered by the mountains on three sides. The sound of the small, fluid perennial stream which ran parallel to the main residence was also the primary water supply to the residents as well as the water supply for irrigation of the crops and fruit trees.

Two additional fresh springs combined with the solar pump he’d installed a few years back provided additional water to the lands. Sweeping green landscapes seemed out of place in a state like Arizona, but in the Tonto National Forest, beauty was everywhere the eye could see.

Breck, as most people called him, rose early to hike among the contiguous wilderness to the ruins left by Native American tribes after an infused cup of morning tea. He loved the land that was free of pollution and outside noises which would interfere with the post-traumatic stress disorder associated with a school shooting 20 years prior in Colorado. He hated guns. The need for so many people to have them as a means of defense seemed trite to him on several levels. A good, level headed discussion could open the door to understanding, versus shoot first and let whatever God people worshipped, sort out the rubbish. All of it was rubbish in his estimation.

A young schoolteacher, fresh out a graduate school, full of hopes and possibilities, he took the assignment with vigor. A year later, scrambling on the floor of his classroom, he used his body as a shield to protect his students. One stray bullet pierced his right leg, shattering the fibula, which still on cold days made him limp. The bullet also set up a fear deep inside of his psyche of closed in places, prompting his move to the ranch to help with a project.

Time, opportunity, and the need to heal kept him in Arizona, but the lifestyle made him stay. The loneliness of the peace and quiet, nearly made him leave. He was ready to get back to the world, to love, have a family and try again.

“Morning, Breck,” Holly Moran, the teacher of Herbal Pharmacology, called out.

“Good day, Holly,” Breck called back, raising his cup of tea in the air. It was his normal morning greeting to the students and handful of residents who resided on the ranch. Today, a fresh crop of interns was due to arrive. He mentally prepared himself to deal with the newbies, teaching them the ways of the ranch, hoping all would understand and assimilate.

He heard the sound of horses traveling up the rough dirt road. This would be a new crew, which equaled two people, never certain of what they’d signed up to do. He didn’t care. An extra pair of bodies, or in this case two, made for light work in the garden. By the time he finished his tea, the bit of toast, and the hardboiled egg on the kitchen counter, the horses would arrive, and he could get started.

Getting started was the hardest part for him. Once Breck got moving with the flow, he was a force.

“Hey Breck, anytime you’re ready to marry me and make your own, I’m ready,” Holly called out.

She was a loud woman, even outdoors. Her inside voice was just as loud as her outside voice, and both were entirely too loud for his ears. A funny thought crossed his mind as he envisioned making love to the woman on a quiet night. Holly’s whispers of passions would more than likely be loud enough to make the coyotes howl in the night.

Breck offered her a smile as he bit into the last of the boiled egg. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like people per se, he just didn’t trust them to do the right thing. Everyone was working an angle, even his new interns. A great number of them signed up to get the free room and board while they learned Herbal Pharmacology. It was difficult to hide his amusement when the interns learned the herbs they would work with were best suited for cooking and taking down swelling in the joints. He knew they would think ‘herbs’ meant marijuana.

He looked up from the cup of herbal tea as the first horse arrived. Breck waved at the intern, who had no idea how to manage a horse, let alone ride one. Fortunately for the intern, the horse knew exactly where to go.

“Good morning,” he said as the second horse appeared over the crest. “Grab your things and come on over.”

Breck waited in the early morning sun as it beat down on his tanned skin. He stood at five feet eleven and had green eyes with wild, unruly hair which locked even when it wasn’t planned. Over the years, it became easier to maintain and Breck allowed them to grow longer. Rarely did he leave the ranch, limiting his interactions with the outside world’s judgements, so his hair became his personal journey toward peace. The two people who dismounted the horses were going to destroy all the sanity he had left in his brain. The first intern fell out of the saddle and the second one, managed to turn himself around in the saddle facing the ass end of the horse.

“Welcome, to the School of Natural and Holistic Self-Reliance,” Breck told them. “Your two-week stay will be filled with learning and understanding the landscape around you and how to commune with nature.”

One of the young men, a goofy kid with long legs, steamed up bifocals, and gangly arms, raised his hand as if he were in a classroom. A wet spot dampened the front of his pants, and Breck inhaled slowly, finding the meditation moment in the scenario because he knew, the next words out the kid’s mouth would be filled with something dumb.

“Oh yeah, my balls are hurting from riding that horse. Is there like a hot tub to sit in to ease my pain? That horse had it out for me,” Conner said.

“That’s not true,” Raymond, the other young man, said. “My horse hated me too. I think I may never be able to have kids after that ride.”

“Both of you will be fine.” Breck remarked before adding, “We will provide you with a soak and a solution to ease the soreness. In the meantime, I need to get you to your yurpee.

“It is a combination of a yurt and teepee, which will have two cots for your sleeping bags, one wood burning stove, and space for your personal things. Please note, the yurpees do not have electricity or interior water. The water has to be carried in if you plan to wash bird bath style or use the shower hut to clean up after a long day. While you are here, nutritious, omnitarian organic meals, hot showers, and on-the-job training related to the projects you’re working on will be provided.”

“No electricity? Man, how I am going to charge my phone and post selfies of me saving the planet?” Connor asked.

“I’m stuck on the whole omnitarian thing,” Raymond said, looking perplexed, “so you only serve food that starts with the letter O?”

They were idiots. Again, he would be stuck with two numbskulls for two weeks before his wedding. The marriage was the only thing he had to look forward to after dealing with two more bird brains who had signed up to waste his time. This was his way of life. They didn’t have to respect it, but before they left, they would grow to understand what living this way meant.

His parents didn’t understand it and neither did his former fiancée who felt living in a cabin on a farm in Arizona was nuts. She wanted her gas guzzling car, the charge cards to buy items she didn’t need, and to live in a home she could barely afford. He left her in Colorado before coming home to Mesa, where he’d grown up. Breck had heard about the ranch from a group of hippies headed to Litchfield Park to homestead a patch of land. Twenty years later, the small town of less than 6,000 bodies had yoga studios, at least one vegan restaurant, and an almost farmer’s market.

“Gentlemen, the next two weeks will either make you a better man or weigh, measure, and show where you are lacking,” Breck cautioned. “Please, head to your yurpees and get settled. Meet me back here in a half hour for lunch.”

“I hope we are having burgers and fries,” Conner quipped while Breck stared through the young man as if he had laser vision and could melt his heart.

His new wife wouldn’t be this way about living on the land. Initially, when he had signed up for the mail order bride service, it was out of loneliness. The weekly Kumbaya around the fire pit on Saturday nights had lost its appeal. It may be time to leave the ranch, but if he did, it had to be for the right reason and with the right woman.

CORALINE NEWAIR DIDN’T know what to make of the sun-kissed white man with the long blondish dread locs in his hair. Over the years, she’d worked with all types of men, from farmers to law enforcement in rural areas to men who wanted a simpler life. This was her first naturalist, which confused her for a moment.

“Mr. Murphy, I’m pleased to meet you,” Coraline said, watching his movements closely. The man moved like a predator, but his eyes showed a kindness she hadn’t seen in many years. Immediately, she liked the vibe that he filled the room with as he took a seat. “Just to get started, do you have a preference as to age, race, creed, and if the woman needs to be capable of childbearing?”

“I would prefer someone my age, and I’m not particular on the other things, but she has to have a brain,” Brecklin said.

“Okay,” Coraline replied, “are you expecting your bride to live on the ranch with you in Arizona?

“No, not really,” Breck said. “The ranch is pretty remote and rustic. It would be cool if she wants to live there, but I could use a change. If she has a nice life that she doesn’t want to leave to follow behind some man and spit out babies, then I’m willing to relocate to share her world.”

“Yeah, it’s not quite fair for me to expect a woman to leave the comforts of her world to live in a cabin in the middle of a forest surrounded by a desert,” Breck said. “Again, if she does, cool. If not, I’m flexible, literally. I teach yoga three days a week.”

“I’m evolved,” he offered with a smile so tender, her heart nearly melted. “I’m also lonely, which is why I said she needs to have a brain. Not sure what is next for me, but you know, growth is important.”

“Spiritually, emotionally, and mentally, I have made a thousand journeys in my head, yet my feet have only traveled so far,” Breck said. “Being an evolved man means nothing when stuck in a yurpee with a woman who can’t see past the hunger squeezing her belly and craving a cheeseburger with fries. Does that make sense?”

“Actually, it does,” she replied. “Matching you may take a bit of time.”

“I’m in no rush, although the sound of my thoughts at times seem deafening,” he said with no apparent rush in his words. “Here, I brought you some tea.”

“Yep, I grow and make this special tea blend myself. I figured if you were going to take the time to interview women to be my perfect match, the least I could do would be to provide you with a soothing tea,” Breck. “Living in the city, especially one as big as this, opens the body to all sorts of toxins. That tea can help cleanse.”

Brecklin Murphy threw back his head and let out a glorious laugh that filled the office with a melody so grand that it took Coraline back to her childhood. He was different, but in a good way. Never in all of her years of matchmaking had she come across a man like this one.

Perfect husband material for the right woman was how Coraline saw him. All she needed was a bit of time to work her magic, and soon Mr. Murphy’s lonely days would be over. She cracked her knuckles and set to work. To her amazement, not soon after, the Caplan sisters walked into her office.

A devilish grin crossed her face and she had an idea so glorious, so spectacular that when the future Mrs. Murphy recounted how they met, all eyes would be glued and ears affixed. Energy coursed through her as she clicked away at the mouse, preparing to set up the perfect romantic adventure for the bride-to-be.

THE FIRST EMAIL ARRIVED two months later, from a woman in Pittsburgh. He read the words over and over again several times, not sure of what he was comprehending in the verses. The letter appeared to be a one-sided conversation in disagreements that focused more on her sister than herself. Brecklin didn’t know if she was responding to marry him or setting him up with her sister.

Dear Ms. Caplan,

I am very pleased to receive your email; however, I am unclear on the intention of the wording. It is my hope that through our correspondence and phone calls we can get to know each other better and move us towards eventually meeting and becoming more.

Until then,

Brecklin Murphy

The correspondence continued, but in his heart, after the first phone call, everything felt uneven. The words on the page and what Ms. Caplan did for a living didn’t match the bubbly, effervescent voice on the phone. It intrigued him and he was all in for the ride. It had become a waiting game.

Three months after that, Brecklin found himself engaged to a woman he had yet to meet. He went to bed each night staring at a photograph as the soft lilt of her lighthearted voice filled his ears and thoughts. How Coraline paired them together as a perfect match was beyond him since they seemed to have very few things in common, from his current life as well as his past life. They idea of energy filled disagreements filled his heart; he just didn’t trust the variances.

“You have to learn to trust, man,” Brecklin said aloud as he kissed two fingers and tapped the photo of the woman who would be boarding a train in less than two days, coming from Pittsburgh to marry him. The train, scheduled to depart on Monday night at midnight with a stop in Chicago, then a switchover in Kansas City, bringing her into Flagstaff. Brecklin suggested she should fly, but she insisted upon taking the train to work out matters with her sister, who was also traveling with her to be a bridesmaid. The sister sounded like a nightmare but he was fascinated by the dynamics between the two and couldn’t wait to meet them both. Besides, she would be his sister by marriage as well and this would be the start of a new life.

He said a silent and meditative prayer that his parents would accept her as the daughter they always wanted. Feeling proud of himself and at peace, he tapped the photo again and turned in for the night. In less than five days, she would be here at his side.

My mail order bride. Sighing contently, he turned down the light and rested his head in the organic wool stuffed pillow. Five days to meet his future wife and end his lonely days. The idea of passion filled nights tented the covers as he sighed deeply dreaming of Ms. Caplan.