Ted had learned how to saddle a horse, how to check their hooves and shoes, and how to lead one where he wanted it to go. He had not ridden a horse in years. He had grown up in Texas, so he’d definitely been in a saddle before, but it had probably been twenty-five years at least.
He hadn’t dared mention that to Jess, because he was sure she’d simply stare at him with her mouth hanging down. Then she’d put him in the beginner class with all the children, and Ted would experience a deep sense of humiliation just by being the tallest.
The sun baked the ground he walked on, and once he reached the trees, the shade provided some relief. The river bubbled, and Ted figured it would probably dry up about mid-summer.
He approached a fence and leaned against it, sighing. He took off his cowboy hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He would like to learn to ride a horse, and he wondered if he could ask Emma to teach him.
He wasn’t sure what had transpired between them that morning, but he sure had liked the touch of her fingers along his face. He hadn’t experienced the soft, gentle touch of a woman in a long, long time, and his nerves raced through him though he wasn’t anywhere near Emma.
His biggest problem was that he had no idea how to talk to a woman. When or if he should hold her hand. And kissing a woman…he swallowed just thinking about it. He couldn’t believe he was even thinking about it at all.
Emma had some serious walls up, and Ted suspected he’d have to kick them down. He wasn’t sure he had the energy, and he certainly didn’t want to do anything that would put his release in jeopardy.
He’d seen what had happened to Nate, and Ted would not go back to River Bay. He reminded himself that he had no ghosts from his past haunting him. He had no loose ends to tie up. He had nobody who wanted anything from him, and his whole future wide open.
“Three and a half months,” he told himself. He would work with the horses and do exactly what Ginger told him, and what Jess said, for three and a half months. Nothing else. Nothing more.
Nothing with Emma.
A sigh escaped his mouth, and he looked over the fence. About thirty yards away, a dirt road ran parallel to the river, and Ted imagined himself on it, behind the wheel of a brand-new truck. He didn’t have the money for that truck, and he couldn’t actually take another step and go beyond this fence.
But one day, in three and a half months, he could.
His spirits lifted, and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you,” he whispered, glad for maybe the first time that his mother had insisted all of her children attend church. Prison had a way of bringing a man closer to God too, and Ted had relied on elements of his faith every day of his time in River Bay.
He took a deep breath of the fresh air, and he realized he was all alone. No one knew where he was, and he didn’t have to report back to anyone, at least not for a while.
He was just about to turn around and go find something to drink when a blue truck edged into his vision. If Ted walked left along the fence, he’d reach the lane that led to the homestead, and this truck was headed the same way.
Where had it come from? What was down the road to the right? To Ted’s knowledge, the ranch and all its fields and wetlands, bird blinds and cabins, beehives and butterflies.
He looked that way, but there was no other traffic.
The truck continued down the lane, but it wasn’t moving very fast.
He was driving a blue truck with a grasshopper on the side. Emma’s words echoed in his mind.
A blue truck. Had it had a grasshopper on the side? He hadn’t even noticed.
Ted sprang into motion and walked along the fence, intending to catch up to the truck and find out who was driving it. He couldn’t hear the engine as the truck practically crawled along now, and Ted tried to get a good look at the license plate. He did, and he quickly pulled his phone from his back pocket and typed in the license numbers and letters.
SJL 9942.
A single man drove the truck, and he didn’t have any windows down. Ted couldn’t hear any music coming from the truck. He wanted to call Emma and have her meet him on the bridge—as far as he could go. But he didn’t have her number.
The blue truck also didn’t bear a grasshopper. Ted’s step faltered, but his pulse did not. Thinking quickly, he bent down and acted like he was checking something along the fence. He had no idea what that would even be, but he figured the guy in the truck wouldn’t either.
He moved to the next pole and bent again, this time sneaking a peek toward the truck. The driver’s door had been opened, and Ted quickly straightened again, his senses on high alert. He’d seen fights coming in prison, and he’d learned to be ready.
The man walked toward him, not too fast, and not too slow. Ted backed up a step and dusted off his hands. “Hey there,” he said. “Do you need some help?” His voice sounded slightly off, but this stranger wouldn’t know. Ted didn’t smile, and he made sure he was out of arm’s reach as the stranger continued to approach.
“Do you work on the ranch?” he asked.
Obviously, Ted thought, but he just said, “Yep.”
“Do you know if they’re hiring?”
“I don’t know,” Ted said.
“Who would I talk to?”
Ted hesitated, because he didn’t want to give out names. Though, perhaps this man just wanted a job. If he went to the house and spoke to Ginger, maybe she could learn his name.
