searching in the sun for another overload

Jasper crouched down to dig through some of the cabinets for a mixing bowl, dodging Mattie's lolling tongue. "Very funny, but I'll have you know," Jasper placed a bowl on the counter and ignored the puff of powder from the pancake mix box. "I make a mean stack of pancakes -- somebody had to keep the boys alive when we were on the road. I am, as the momster says, 'domesticated.' We could do cereal, though, if you'd rather."

With the prospect of food, he reasoned his stomach could handle another cup of coffee, so he set to the task of making it. "How is momster? You talk to her lately?"

"Thank you -- I'll need to put two in the fridge. The other two can sit at room temp," Gray said. He happily let Abe lead him towards the main house, smiling at the sight of the place. It reminded him a lot of his own childhood home. Suddenly, Gray felt a twinge of nostalgia for the old place -- it was gone now, replaced with something newer. "Mine did, too. Must be an especially old timer thing since we're apparently the new old timers now," he joked, "How are the kids you've been working with this summer? And your kids. The one was in Oregon the last you said, right?"

"Jasper? Yeah, he was in Oregon but he's back now, home for the winter at least. He's good, I think. Good by my estimation. It's always, nice having him around." His boy was into music and art--a sensitive kinda guy. Having never been much good at the feelings thing himself, Abe rarely knew if something was eating at Jasper until some kinda blow-out happened. But for the moment, at any rate, his boy was alright.

At the mention of a skunk, Julie frowned. "Poor fella," she murmured, then took a step closer to see if the weak wind would carry a smell. "You might be alright," she said after a moment, then considered Mattie and Abe's work gloves. "You'll want to soak your gloves, though. And Miss Ma'am if she happened to get a little too close," she said with a shake of her head, "Can't imagine what your ranch hands would say if you wound up working near them with stinking hands. "

He watched as Mattie scanned along the line of fencing that Julie had secured, assessing it as she did everything new in her little kingdom of a ranch. "Looks like it passes Mattie's inspection, too." Here, on his own land and away from town, he felt freer to talk openly and he thought back on their last conversation. "Obsidian still pressing you? Or did they get the hint?"

“If you can spare a few you weren’t planning on breeding, might be good. I might see if I can dial up one of the breeding stations and see if they have any embryos they might be able to part with.” Caid leaned back against the fence and gave it a thought for a moment. “Could also do some sort of charity sorting or cutting something. I don’t have enough horned steers to rope with, but I probably can depending on the timing…” He’d put anything together if he could, this was who he was in his purest sense. Trying to just do right by their community.

Ranching folks tended to be a proud type, hesitant to accept outright charity. And now in the digital age, Abe saw online campaigns left and right--convenient in a lot of ways, but felt cold sometimes. What he remembered most vividly was the barn-raising spirit of his father's generation.

"Could host a big ol' potluck here." He had the resources on hand for when Blue Rooster hosted weddings and the like, and now that the weather was turning, that business was mostly done for the season. "Somewhere centralized where everyone can direct their help? Might be easier than one-at-a-timing things."

Where: Blue Rooster Ranch

When: Present

Jasper got in late the night before. Most people would have flown from Arizona to Oregon, but he liked the drive. The hours alone there and back always cleared his head. Every year that passed they, the ones left behind, were a little older and more bitter. So, he was a bit distracted when got home. So much so that Jasper thought he dreamed it at first — the driveway without his dad's truck in it.

He woke up early by his dad’s standards. The driveway was still missing the truck, though. A part of Jasper was just about to call, who knew if his dad wasn’t out in one of the pastures trapped under a hunk of metal? Then, the screen door screeched on its track and nails scratched on the dull hardwood. Jasper crouched down to pat Mattie’s wiggling body, eyes locking onto his dad by the front door. “Were you out all night or was I just dead to the world?” Jasper asked. He wrinkled his nose; he felt like his mom in that moment. He shook the gallon of milk to lighten the mood. “Have you had breakfast? I’m feeling domestic.”

And the loosening of it was so relieving, he sometimes forgot himself. Almost answered Jasper truthfully about his whereabouts the night before. But he caught himself in time to filter the truth. "Some greeting you got there, kid, good morning to you too. Let one of the guys borrow my truck, but your concern is appreciated." He slipped his jacket off and hug it neatly on one of the pegs near the door. "I've had coffee but no breakfast. You gonna wow us with some cereal?

"I think you've checked off all the list items -- I found some towels and sheets, which is more than I usually have," Adrian smiled. Usually, he had a sleeping bag. He briefly looked over Abe's shoulder out to the rolling land. "I do have some questions, though, about this place and the town if you have time? I've found some interesting articles about the old hotel and there's some stuff online, but I'm more interested in the current history."

"Current history," he repeated with a good-natured chuckle. "Ain't that a bit of a contradiction?" Before Joel could answer the mostly rhetorical question, he kept on. "Suppose I get what you mean. And I can try answering some questions, but you'll have to keep in mind I come from ranching folk. Might not know much about politics and city business and whatnot."

It wasn't a complete lie--Abe was a bumpkin and well aware of it. But ranching was most of the business of Paxton. Chances were, he'd know everything Joel planned on referencing.

"They appreciate it -- they're just determined to make Geraldo shove one of them through a roof and I'm just going to pretend I'm blind," Gray said with a wry smile, clasping Abe's hand in greeting. His smile faltered at the mention of the heat. "And they say global warming's fake," he murmured, then considered the big house. "I actually have some waters that could do with a fridge if you have any space and it's not too much trouble?"

He followed Grayson to his truck to help carry the water, then led the pair of them into the garage. "Y'all are welcome to the kitchen, too, just more space in the fridge out here. And I'm sure you've got all the tools you need, but if you find you're missing something, just lemme know. My old man kept one of everything in this garage."

Where: Blue Rooster Ranch

When: Present

Julie tilted the bill of her baseball cap away from her eyes. She dropped the section of barbed wire she'd been nipping away at when Abe drew closer. Mattie followed at his heels, tongue lolling, off in the distance a few cows called to one another. Julie lifted her hand in a brief wave. "I told you my Meema made sure I could fix a fence," Julie grinned, pleased with the long line of reinforced fencing. "Granted, she was always making sure I could protect her flowers, but wire's wire."

"You find anything out on the perimeter?" She asked in reference to traps or contaminates. Prickett & Son was on the back of her mind -- lots of things were on her mind lately if she was being honest.

"Damn skunk in a trap, had to put the fear of god into Mattie to keep her away. Didn't touch it, but you might smell it on me." Changing seasons put everyone on edge as predators changed their routes and habits to prepare for winter. A skunk was annoying, but at least it wasn't a bobcat. "Nothing to worry over, though."

It was their turn to rub a hand over their face. "Jesus wept, Abe. Hate hearing our generation has kids old enough to be buying their own homes." How Maisie afforded a house these days was altogether another subject. Best not to get started on the topic of banks. "Been to Oregon here and again. Won't ever get used to air by the ocean, but there are worse places. Good for him, having the luck to see more of the world."

"Oh hell no, she didn't buy it. Just renting it. But it's a proper house with a yard and all that. No upstairs neighbors. She's tickled pink. wants to host Christmas Eve." Abe had offered to gift her a down payment if she wanted to buy a place. Maisie was responsible and she'd worked hard, and he had the money. But she wouldn't hear it.

As for the team..."Top Hands are all pretty level-headed. Caid had a temper when he was younger, but he's settled over the years. Julie, his wife, she's the spitfire now, but she's not officially involved." He put a little extra something in his eyes with the word 'officially.' "Some of the Hands are little rowdier, but it takes all types." His mama had taught him not to gossip, but she never did show him the line between it and information. "I'll put it this way: no one's gonna offer any trouble that you can't handle."

"Autopsy revealed that the horses ate contaminated feed — it was milled in with some cattle feed and had Rumensin in it." It was a fatal accident. "They have some insurance, it'll cover some of the immediate costs... but the legacy and lineage..." It was those things that made Caid sentimental. Built a whole legacy of lines, generations of hard work. "We need to do something for them, I just don't know what. I think I might be able to figure out if anyone got some straws frozen from their studs left."

It was good and decent that Caid wanted to do more than just sympathize with them. "Count me in for whatever you need. I've got straws, I've got a few connections outside of Paxton, too, might be able to pull resources and get 'em back on their feet. At least well enough to get through winter and plan for spring." It was a shit situation, but it'd be a good occasion to remind everyone that Paxton took care of its own.

Where: The Blue Rooster Ranch

When: Present

Could Adrian have purchased a home in Paxton? Yes. Could he have asked anyone within Obsidian to set him up with lodging? Also, yes. Adrian did neither of those things, though. While Obsidian was paying him for the time-being, Adrian was firm on remaining a subcontractor only. Subcontracting gave him the flexibility to leave whenever he wanted and the soles' of Adrian's feet always itched. So, he found a few listings. It was the one smack dab in the middle of a local ranch that piqued his interest; partially for the view and partially for the privacy. Adrian stood on the back porch of the small, rustic cabin, eyes taking in the watercolors of canyon and sunset when the sound of horses' hooves tore him away. Adrian looked over, hand raising at the sight of who he could only assume was the ranch owner. Abraham Wainwright. "You really didn't have to come out here, I don't really ever come with much," Adrian greeted, hand held out. "Your land's some of the most beautiful I've seen in awhile."

Now, though, it made sense. Wandering storyteller with an eye for pretty scenes. It sounded like a downright romantic way of life, and while the restlessness didn't appeal to Abe and his need for roots, he admired the idea of it. "It's no trouble. Can't rightly play host without making sure you got everything you need."

"I do, sometimes," Gray admitted with a forlorn smile. He may have some space now, but never enough in comparison to get back what the Hall family sold. It may have been a collective decision made to give his brother a chance at something better, but the scar tissue ran deep. Only Gray drove past that old farm -- a portion of the land now over by a hotel -- and had to remember what was lost. His father was gone; his mother was remarried and moved; his brother was somewhere else. "Even though I know it's not sunshine and rainbows -- it's nice to be able to see generations of your family in one place."

"Y'all want some coffee before you get started?"

He knew folks in the field of construction usually had their own routines and habits--preferred thermos, lunchbox packed specifically. But his place was built from the start with the intention to host a lot of bodies at once. And he always kept the coffee cabinet well stocked. "Hell, I've even got tea for any of your poor SOBs trying to get off caffeine."

He approached Gray in particular with an outstretched hand. "KNXV's calling for some heat in the afternoon." So much for picking the right time of year for roof work. "Nothing too bad, but if y'all need to take a break or anything at all, you're welcome up here at the big house."

The mug rolled between her hands slowly. "I also think you acting out of character is going to seem suspicious to anyone looking to feel suspicious." Another sip and Samira set the mug down, voice calm . "Abe. You helped my folk, helped Leland. Sorted two bodies with us and branded me your own self. " Prod at grief or branding - which infliction was worse? The burn was permanent, something Sammy would have to hide forever - but they'd agreed to it. Abe'd been blindsided, but his hurt would pass. "I'd think that means trust. I'd hope it means a place we don't have to fucking swallow what burns. That's why I came over. But-"

The tension fizzled out low enough to ignore altogether. "Family's good. Maisie got herself a little house out near her mom. Jasper's...up in Oregon, I think?" The boy was downright afflicted with wanderlust. He rarely called or texted, but Abe was running out of fridge magnets for the postcards. "And the dog I got from Leroy about a year ago. Best four legs I've got working on the Ranch, no offense to your parents."

The question about the Hands had him snorting. "Always digging, huh? Got no quarrel with any of them, and statistically speaking, that's probably a goddamn miracle. It's nice to have a bit of calm after Charlie." Head tilted down toward the floor, he looked up at them from under heavy eyelids. "Why, you looking to start trouble?"

"We might be coming on slow season now, but it's near impossible to complete a full roof in the dead of summer. You always get some new kid who takes their gloves off and winds up singed on the shingle -- never-mind trying to do anything with torch," Gray said with a light roll of his eyes. Everyone who took a basic science class knew that heat rises, and Gray knew better than most the truth of that. He looked up at the patch Abe pointed at with a click of his tongue. "You did best with what you had," he acquiesced. "I'll probably pull up about a foot on either side to make sure nothing's rotted over. I have some extra plywood from some other jobs, so it shouldn't cost you more than a hundred to fix -- do you have any bundles of the original shingle?" He asked, all business until one of the cows mooed at them. Gray looked over with a little shake of his head. "Never thought I'd say this, but sometimes I miss having cows around. They always know when to interrupt."

Abe patted a heavy hand against the cow's snout, sticky with bits of hay as it was. "They got a sense for it, that's for sure. We can move 'em out of here when it comes time to do the repairs, if you need." They certainly wouldn't bother his crew while they worked, but some folks got distracted by animals. "Or you can keep 'em around for conversation, lord knows I've talked to 'em a time or two."

She couldn’t help but smile as what she said earlier sank in. Similar to a Great Pyrenees watching its flock, Abe bristled in front of her. He didn’t have to say it out loud, but the offer from the Cowboys always loomed close by. “Thank you, but we’re not there yet. I’m going to see what they have to offer. I’m already expecting everything will have a catch, but I think just writing them off completely might catch me more grief,” Julie explained. She considered some of the meat in the case. The distance between them and the register made Julie think of all the people who would welcome a true grocery store for the convenience. It would be at the loss of places like this, though. “Have any of them tried contacting you, yet? You have all that land — I imagine between Obsidian and the winery that you have some vultures circling around, or you will.”

He wasn't at all surprised to hear her decline his offer, but he wouldn't have to repeat it--Julie knew him well enough to understand that it was an offer without expiration. "They don't bother with me anymore." Used to be, he'd find a letter from them in his mailbox at least once a week. But they'd learned quick enough that he wasn't budging. "My old man, though, they catch him on the phone all the time. And you know how he is." Ernest Wainwright wouldn't know a devil if it gored him with its horns. The man was well-named, if nothing else. "I tell him all the time they're just trying to pester him til I get pissed and finally talk to 'em, but he can't see it."

Caid blinked slowly from the back of the chutes. There was a handful of young bull riders that were trying their salt against some of the better stock contract and it was all Caid could do to hold in a sigh. The truth was, these days, roughstock riders were few and far between, you didn't have to even be that good to do well. However, the bulls were meaner, they bucked harder, they'd been bred selectively. As the guys started to wrap up their gear after getting some coaching lessons from Caid, he recognized a familiar face.

"Abe, hey." Caid said he ambled on over — really any excuse to not have to talk to any of the boys for any longer. "You hear what happened over at Prickett & Son Rodeo Company? Lost their whole fuckin' herd of bucking stock due to contaminated feed..." It was a scary thought. "I drove over there last week, it's bad." As one of the top PRCA and NFR stock contractors, this was bad for their industry and the family.

Caid's snippet of news sent a shiver through him. "Shit, the whole herd? What the hell are they gonna do?" Some enterprises were tenuous enough when everything was in order that a loss of this magnitude could shut them down altogether. "I take it you've triple checked things at Matacuna?" Caid was more than capable, but livestock illness was the kind thing that wore an ulcer in farm folk.