The Gift

Ashley woke to the sound of a knock. She pushed herself up in bed and brushed the hair away from her face as the door of the guest room creaked open and her grandfather poked his head in.

“Ready to ride?,” he asked.

She yawned and wiped the sleep from her eyes. Even in the dim light, she could make out his gray horseshoe mustache and his warm, welcoming smile. “It’s still dark outside,” she said, peering out the window. “What time is it, anyway?”

“It’s four-thirty.”

“Oh my God, Grandpa. It’s the middle of the night!”

“Stop your bellyaching,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk. “I let y’all sleep in.”

Ashley huffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” she said, pulling her knees up beneath the covers.

He nudged the door open a bit further and swept the Stetson from his head, pointing toward the next bed with the wide brimmed hat. “Is your sister coming?”

“No,” she said, glancing at the human-sized lump nestled under the quilted bedspread. “Emily is, uh, sleeping in today.”

“You don’t say,” he whispered. “You girls might be identical twins, but I’ll be damned if you’re not different as night and day. I’m going to make some coffee. How ‘bout a cup?”

***

Her grandfather hovered over the coffee maker. “God damn it!” he said, stuffing a paper liner into the filter basket. “I’m shaking like a dog shitting bones.”

Ashley squinted in the dim light of the kitchen. She filled the carafe with water and poured it into the machine, glancing at the old man’s trembling hand as he measured a scoop of ground coffee.

“Here, let me help you with that,” she said, taking the scoop from his hand. “While that’s brewing, I’ll make us some breakfast.”

He ambled over and sat down at the table, rubbing his gnarled hands together. “What’s the deal with your sister?” he asked. “Is she going to sleep all day?”

Ashley stiffened, clenching her jaw, pretending to ignore his question as she cracked four eggs into a glass bowl and began to whip them with a wire whisk. Why does he even care? she wondered. It’s not like they’re close or anything.

The aroma of fresh brewed coffee started to fill the air and after a few minutes she served up sizzling strips of bacon alongside scrambled eggs and toast on two white porcelain plates. She had a fond childhood memory of baking homemade biscuits in the foreman’s cabin with her sister and Grandpa. Even now, it felt warm—almost like a home away from home.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said, setting the plates on the table.

Bill’s fork landed with a plink. “Well, I’ll be a sonofabitch,” he said, reaching for his coffee cup. “This breakfast looks fantastic. And the coffee smells good, too.”

She was still thinking about her sister. Worried that Emily who was supposed to be sleeping in the next room, was probably at the bunkhouse, naked in the arms of her grandfather’s top hand. Her brow furrowed and she cocked her head with a tentative smile. “Well,” she said. “I didn’t expect that. What did I do to deserve the compliment?”

“Ain’t about the what,” he replied. “It’s about the why.”

***

Ashley sat astride a stout buckskin gelding. The big horse pulled at the bit and shifted its weight beneath her. In the shadows, beyond the barn stalls that housed the ranch horses, Grandpa stood with a phone pressed to his ear. He raised his eyebrows and smiled, waving with his free hand, signaling her to ride out ahead of him. Since it was unseasonably warm and the sun was beginning to rise over the Panhandle of Texas she reluctantly obliged.

She brought the sturdy buckskin to a stop in front of the closed pasture gate. Dismounting, she pulled the reins over the horse’s head and led the animal to it, all the while keeping her eyes on a diamond back rattlesnake that lay coiled at the base of the the gatepost. With its rattle upright and shaking furiously, the khaki snake hissed and raised its head in a threatening manner.

Even though she was terrified, Ashley was able open the gate, lead the horse through, and close it again without provoking the viper any more than she already had. “Holy shit!” she cried, looking alternately at the buckskin and the gatepost. Then she looked into the horse’s eyes. “That’s a big fucking rattlesnake.”

The horse seemed to understand the note of alarm in her voice. He nickered and reached around, nuzzling her back as she pulled off her jacket and tied it behind the cantle of her saddle. She put her left boot in the stirrup and lifted herself up, swinging her right leg over the saddle and into the stirrup on the other side. She patted the gelding’s neck and set off on the dusty truck trail that would loop around and take her back to the barn. “Good boy, Gold,” she said to him. “You’re a good horse.”

The steady rhythm of the horse’s hooves sent her drifting back to the previous day. She could hear the tires of the ranch truck thumping across the expansion joints on the interstate. Sitting deep in the saddle, she eased into a trot trying to block the memory, but it wouldn’t go away.

***

Travis had parked the white flatbed truck in front of the feed store. He’d leaned back and stretched his right arm along the back of the seat. Emily slid over and snuggled up to him, assuming her twin was sleeping. Ashley heard them talking but kept her eyes closed, eavesdropping on her sister and the ranch hand.

“I won’t miss the old coot,” Travis said softly.

“I know,” Emily agreed.

“He’ll probably die of a heart attack before the cancer gets him.”

“Travis—”

“Every week I make this trip to Amarillo,” he said. “I pick up hay and grain and drive another fifty miles back to the ranch. Let’s hope it pays off in the end.”

“The horses mean a lot to him,” said Emily. “Especially the buckskin.”

“If I had that horse and he had a feather, we’d both be tickled.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. It shouldn’t be long now.”

***

With Emily’s words weighing heavily on her mind, Ashley was relieved when she spotted her grandfather in the distance, standing in the corral and talking to Emily. From afar, he didn’t seem to be angry or upset. Emily stood with her thumbs hooked in the pockets of her cutoff denim shorts and the morning sun shone in her long blonde hair.

When Grandpa saw her riding toward them, he broke into a wide smile and gave a hearty wave. “Howdy!” he called. “How’d it go?”

Ashley reined in next to them, aware that Emily’s eyes were on her. She dismounted and handed the reins to the old cowboy. “You missed a great ride, Grandpa,” she replied. “Gold’s a wonderful horse. You’ve trained him well.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a good thing,” he said, passing the reins back to her. “He’s your horse now. Brush him down and clean his feet before heading back to the barn.”

The moment tugged at Ashley’s heart in a strange, uncomfortable way, bringing with it feelings of happiness and, at the same time, a sense of loss. A flood of emotion welled up in her eyes, and she couldn’t help noticing that Emily’s eyes were misty, too. “What,” she started to say, and then stopped herself.

Her grandfather gave her a concerned look and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Ain’t about the what,” he said, brushing a tear away with his thumb. “It’s about the why.”