Nate, come down and eat your breakfast,” Ma hollered up the stairs for the third time. “You’re going to be late for school.”
Nate fastened the button on his pants, his bottom still stinging from last night. Once again, he was being scolded for practically nothing. It had been that way since Jesse came home with Pa, who only had time for his new deputy. Nate would rather starve than break bread with that big turd. His belly rumbled, arguing otherwise. Ma always packed him a hearty lunch. He’d nibble something on the way to school.
At the bottom of the stairs, he peeked toward the kitchen. Pa sat at the dining room table, shoveling food into his mouth. Elizabeth banged a spoon on the table while babbling her own happy tune. Ma stood at the cookstove, wiping her hands on her apron. And of course, there was Jesse, who scrubbed at a plate in the wash bucket.
Nate rolled his eyes. Woman chores. Yuck! He’d known all along there was something just not right with him. Only a darn fool would take it upon himself to wash dishes. Jesse might as well have been wearing a skirt.
None of his ideas so far had worked to get rid of Jesse. Last night hadn’t been planned, but after nearly getting plowed over, he figured Jesse would have run for the hills. Instead, he had offered to help Nate out of trouble, which had probably been a lie. But then he came into Nate’s room after he’d gotten spanked, and he stood next to the bed, turning pages of the pirate book. Nate had quickly shut his eyes when Jesse glanced at him. Then he was gone. What had that been about?
“Nathanial, what’re you doing? Don’t just stand there. Come eat.” That ugly frown was on Ma’s face again, hands on her hips. He’d seen that look a lot from her lately.
“I’m going to get Buck.”
“You’ll come eat first.” Ma wagged a pot stick as she marched toward him.
“I ain’t hungry.”
She took his books, laid them aside, then marched him to the table.
Nate had questions about Jesse and needed time to figure things out on his own. He wasn’t all bad, as Nate suspected he would be. He had mucked out the stalls the other morning just to be nice. Why? He wasn’t there as a farmhand. He wouldn’t have had to help to keep his place there and as deputy. Could Nate trust Jesse? Pa had enough faith in him that he pinned a badge on him. Mean tears stung Nate’s eyes. That was supposed to be his job. He flopped into a chair and pouted. Jesse was trying to steal Pa away, wasn’t he?
Ma spooned eggs on the plate in front of him.
“These eggs look burned. I ain’t eatin’ ’em,” he grumbled.
Pa closed the newspaper. Nate got a hard look.
No one cared about what he wanted. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes. Was it really that big of a deal if he didn’t want to eat breakfast? It wasn’t a crime for him to leave early for school and get away from Jesse. He had too many mixed-up thoughts about that fella. He should have just stayed in bed, faked sick, and got some nice attention for once.
“This food smells bad.” Nate shoved his plate away, which smacked his milk glass. It teetered, but not a drop was spilled.
Pa slid the plate back in front of Nate. “Git to eatin’.”
Nate picked up his fork and plowed the mess of scrambled eggs around in a circle. Ma dropped a few pieces of bacon onto his dish.
“I don’t want bacon. Looks too crunchy.” He broke a curled piece between his fingers, letting the pig meat crumble over his uneaten eggs. Nate could feel Pa’s firm stare, but everything was getting to him. He folded his arms tight across his chest, silently having a fit. No one was going to make him eat.
Pa nodded for Jesse, who then picked up, scraped clean, and washed Nate’s plate. All the while, Nate smirked.
“Thank you, Jessica,” he said smartly and chuckled.
Giving no warning, Pa grabbed Nate off his chair and smacked his bottom with one hard lick. Tears sprang out of his eyes as he was sat down hard again.
“You watch your mouth.” Pa turned away and stormed toward the door.
Nate’s bottom smarted as he blinked back stupid wetness and wiped across his cheeks.
“Kid, you need to stop this.” Jesse rubbed Nate’s shoulder on the way by, then donned his coat and followed after Pa.
Had Jesse just tried to console him, or couldn’t he take a bit of name-calling? Nate and his friends called each other names all the time. Doing all those woman chores, to call him Jessica just seemed to fit.
Ma set Nate’s lunch pail on the table while he pouted. Pa had chosen Jesse’s side of the battle again and ruined Nate’s day.
“Do your best not to get into any more trouble today.” She walked him to the door, where he put on his coat and scarf.
Inside the barn, Nate froze midstep. Jesse just threw his own saddle over the mustang’s back. Were Nate’s eyes lying to him? Why hadn’t Jesse saddled the mare for himself? “What the hell? Buck’s my horse!”
Pa stepped around the bay and pointed a finger straight at Nate. “Stop your cussin’.”
Nate’s eyes squinted up tight, fists balled at his sides. Buck was his best friend. First Pa, now Buck. Nate’s blood was ablaze. His family life had been flipped upside down, and everything was Jesse’s fault. If it had to do with Nate and trouble, then Jesse was always somewhere in the middle. Why was Pa blind to that fact?
Pa wagged his finger. “Jesse needs to be mounted on a good horse. We’re riding some rough country today. The old mare won’t make it that many miles.”
Pa could save his breath. Nate didn’t need it explained. He didn’t give a shit if the mare was just a pasture horse.
“Let him walk if his horse’s no damn good. Nobody, especially Jesse, is gonna ride my horse!” He kicked at the dirt floor, pretending it was Jesse’s head, and then hoofed the milk stool rolling. Hate-filled tears stung his eyes, and a lightning streak of rotten-ass words flew off his tongue, every single one of them aimed at Jesse. Nate started to shake; he was so pissed off.
Jesse stood stock-still, gawking with his mouth hanging open. Maybe Nate’s holy tantrum would scare him off. Pa, on the other hand, looked meaner than ever.
“I said Jesse is gonna ride the mustang, an’ you’re one cursing word from feeling my belt across your backside.”
Nate needed to settle himself quick. He didn’t want a repeat of the hard lesson he’d learned last night. His chest was pounding so hard it hurt.
“I’ll take Jesse to the livery as soon as Mr. Pike’s new stock comes in. You won’t have to share Buck more than a few days, just until he can purchase a good horse. I don’t want to hear one, not one, word spit out of your mouth about him riding the mustang.” Pa jerked his cinch strap tight.
Nate spun and stomped out of the barn, thinking of the pleasure he would have gotten from throwing his tin lunch pail at Jesse’s head.
“Nathanial, wait!” Pa hollered after him.
Nate’s temper was getting the best of him, and he fired back over his shoulder, “I ain’t waitin’! I’m walkin’ to school!”
A hard hand clamped down on his shoulder. Immediately he was turned. Pa’s hands moved toward his belt. Maybe Nate should have held his tongue. Instead, Pa switched the reins of the bay to his other hand.
“Son, you’d best quit this fight right now. I’ve purdy much had it with your attitude toward Jesse. If the nonsense don’t end, you’ll git more than just a swat on the bottom.” It might only take one wrong word for Pa to unbuckle his belt and give Nate a few hard licks.
“Yes, sir.” Nate hated to say it. He brushed his horse every day and picked Buck’s hooves. No one would take care of Buck as well. Pa knew it too. He had taught Nate how. He hated Jesse more than anything. Maybe he hated Pa a little bit too for always sticking up for Jesse.
“May I walk to school now?” Nate asked through gritted teeth. All he wanted was to escape from Pa and Jesse and be alone and cry.
“No, you’re riding to town with me.” Pa stepped up and threw a leg over the saddle.
Nate rubbed a sleeve across his watery eyes. He didn’t want to ride the two long miles with Jesse sitting on Buck every step of the way.
Pa reached down, and Nate stepped back. “Nathanial, do not start again. I think you know what’ll happen if I git off this horse. Now give me your hand.”
Pa lifted him, plopping him on the back of the saddle. They rode out of the ranch yard, Jesse alongside them, and Nate bitched to himself about that no-good, stinking, father-stealing, dumb horse thief of a deputy riding Buck.
Pa glanced over his shoulder and frowned. Nate bit his lip. He turned back around. Nate glared at Jesse.
“Boy oh boy, this mustang sure is a fine mover, smooth gait. And I barely have to touch rein to Buck’s neck. That’s real good. You’ve done a fine job teachin’ this horse, Nate.”
Jesse was an idiot. Nate knew how good of a horse Buck was. Just because he was young didn’t mean he was slow-minded. He wanted to spit at Jesse, but he grumbled again instead.
“Shut up, the both of you. My head is startin’ to hurt.”
Had Pa been in a position other than sitting on his horse, Nate and Jesse might have gotten their heads smacked together. Nate stayed quiet, and Jesse stopped his gush of compliments.
Nate couldn’t wait to get to school and away from Jesse. The sight of that building that generally bored him was the best thing he’d seen since yesterday.
He slid off the back of the bay, but Pa caught hold of him before his feet touched the street. In one swift move, Nate was pulled around, facing Pa.
“Don’t walk home by yourself. You wait here at the jailhouse if I ain’t back.”
Nate didn’t answer, and he wasn’t going to bother asking why. He just stared at his feet. He hadn’t won a battle with Pa since Jesse started the war.
“You hear me, boy?” Pa sounded irritated and lifted Nate’s chin.
“Yes, sir.”
Pa slid him down, and as soon as his feet touched the ground, he ran off toward the schoolyard.