Page 44 of Wrangled

Toby Philip Merrow, did it ever occur to you that you might be staring at astraightman’s ass?

It was uncanny how my inner voice sounded so much like my mom.

We maintained a steady pace as we trotted across the prairie, a carpet of yellow- green grass, the trail pointing like an arrow toward dark green trees ahead. The sky was an expanse of blue, dotted here and there with wisps of white clouds, a perfect June day.

“Where are we going?” I called out to Zeeb.

He pointed to a ridge ahead of us. “Up there. The trail takes us through the woods, past the lake, and then it starts to climb. That’s when the terrain gets a little rocky.”

Robert was right. There would be a fantastic view from that altitude.

“Are you going to show him the wolf den?” Declan asked.

Zeeb twisted around in his saddle to give him a mock glare. “Will you quit giving the game away? Maybe I wanted to surprise him.”

“I’d say that boat has sailed,” Robert said with a chuckle.

There we were, riding through a huge open space, and for the first time I understood what was meant by the phrasebig sky. I didn’t recollect noticing the skies when I was a kid. As an adult, I’d watched a few sunrises and sunsets from the beaches in San Francisco, looking out over the water at the horizon, but that was as nothing to my reaction to the staggeringly impressive vista before us.

I felt so fucking small and insignificant.

“Kind of overwhelming, isn’t it?” Robert’s voice drifted forward.

“It’s so peaceful out here.” Except that didn’t even come close to touching the landscape’s effect on me.

Ahead, Zeeb nodded. “And that’s why I’m here. This is a place where a man can appreciate the simple life.” He gestured to the view before us. “Kinda fitting, don’t you think, that we’re up here on the Lord’s day, enjoying His creation.Thisis living the dream. I get to see new faces, create the life I want… Because make no mistake about it, lifeiswhat you make it.” Conviction rang out in his voice.

“How long have you been at Salvation? Ten years, I think you said? Where were you before that?”

“Idaho, and don’t go there.”

I chuckled. “I have no intention of going there. What reason do I have to visit Idaho?”

“No, I mean, don’t go there. Not gonna talk about life before Salvation.”

“Fair enough.”

Good Lord, doeseveryonewho works here have a past they’re escaping from?Not that anyone had come right out and said as much, but there sure had been hints of it, first from Butch, then Paul, and now Zeeb…

Prairie gave way to trees as the trail headed into the woods. On either side of us, tall, slim trunks rose into the sky high above our heads, and here and there trees had fallen, some sawn off near the base, others more jagged in appearance.

“This is where we get wood for the ranch,” Robert told me.

There was a different smell in the air, a musky, earthy kind of smell. The trail was covered in dirt and leaves, and it was fairly easygoing for a while. After about twenty minutes, the trail started to slope downward. The air grew fresher, and at last we emerged at a lake, its perimeter lined with trees. The water was so goddamn clear.

“Okay, time to give the horses a rest, and let ’em have a drink.” Zeeb pointed to a tree stump. “You can use that to dismount.”

“I get the feeling you’ve been here before,” I quipped.

Declan laughed. “I guess Zeeb has lost count of how many times he’s done this trail with guests.”

I walked down to the water’s edge, staring at its calm surface, at the reflection of the tree line.So still…Declan had his phone out, and was taking photos. Zeeb saw to the horses, their reins tied around a tree.

Robert joined me. “I always forget how beautiful this is,” he murmured.

“How often do you ride the trails?”

He gave a rueful smile. “Not as often as I should.”

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