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Authors: Laina Villeneuve
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headed back down for dinner or another campfire gathering.
“You’re lonesome,” her mother diagnosed.
“I’m fine. I like my solitude.”
“Usually when you say that, I believe you. This time, I don’t. What’s going on?”
Gloria realized she might as well talk to her mother. She had after all called her. “There was this campfire thing a few days ago, after my talk.” She shrugged even though she knew her mother could not see her. The line remained quiet as her mother waited for her daughter to continue. “I guess it made me homesick. I move around so much that there’s never a group who welcomes me back, no old-timers…” Movement in the yard distracted her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Kristine riding in with a string of mules behind her.
Suddenly self-conscious, Gloria swiveled away from looking at the parking lot and corrals.
“Old-timers?” her mother prompted.
“Old-timers,” Gloria repeated, kicking herself for not making a plan if she did happen to find Kristine.
“You were saying something about old-timers.”
“Oh, right.” Curious about what the cowboys were doing, she pivoted back around. She saw Kristine tying her lead mule to a post by a large wooden platform. It looked exactly like a dock she’d expect to see in a lake with a rowboat tied to the side, yet this was on dry land. “Old-timers telling stories about back when I was a teenager just learning the ropes,” Gloria said.
“Adam’s got those stories, and he’s always saying he wished he had funding to keep you at the field office here. I always thought you were kind of relieved there wasn’t money for something full-time for you here. I thought you liked being out in the wilds on your own.”
“I do like where I am. I love what I do.” She kept her eye on the group that had gathered to help unload the mules. “I’m just realizing that it would be nice to have a group.” Like the one that she watched working together. They were a unit. The rangers she worked with became units. She’d always been the outsider. Strange that she’d never been so aware of it before.
Her mother laughed heartily. “Does this phone have a record button? I want to hear you say that again. Don’t you remember me bugging you to go hang out with people your own age when you were in high school?”
“I remember,” she said. Gloria wished she was closer to the work. In a flash, Kristine and Sandy pulled large leather bags from each side of the mule and tossed them onto the dock. Dozer emptied out the bags, stowing the canvas tarps and long ropes in the shed. Kristine glanced toward the building where Gloria stood. Her eyes hit Gloria like an arrow finding its target.
“You sound so blue,” her mother’s voice brought Gloria back to the conversation she was having. “Not your usual whip-people-into-shape self.”
Gloria knew she should respond, but couldn’t find words. When they had finished unloading the mules, Dozer and Kristine appeared to discuss something before Dozer took the string and led them away from the dock. Kristine sauntered across the yard, spurs clinking, the fringe of short chaps she wore slapping below her knees. She pushed her rolled-up sleeves back down, concealing her strong forearms, and her black hat shaded her face as she concentrated on buttoning her cuffs. As she entered the store, she glanced briefly in Gloria’s direction.
“I’m just in that adjustment period, finding my bearings,” Gloria answered. She shifted her position and was able to look in the doorway. Kristine had paused at the counter, chatting with the spellbound store clerk as she rang up an ice cream. As Kristine walked to her truck, the clerk followed her with her eyes until she realized Gloria was watching. She shrugged with a smile of acknowledgment as if to say they’d both been caught. Oblivious to the two women behind her, Kristine climbed into the cab of her truck and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Maybe you
“You’re lonesome,” her mother diagnosed.
“I’m fine. I like my solitude.”
“Usually when you say that, I believe you. This time, I don’t. What’s going on?”
Gloria realized she might as well talk to her mother. She had after all called her. “There was this campfire thing a few days ago, after my talk.” She shrugged even though she knew her mother could not see her. The line remained quiet as her mother waited for her daughter to continue. “I guess it made me homesick. I move around so much that there’s never a group who welcomes me back, no old-timers…” Movement in the yard distracted her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Kristine riding in with a string of mules behind her.
Suddenly self-conscious, Gloria swiveled away from looking at the parking lot and corrals.
“Old-timers?” her mother prompted.
“Old-timers,” Gloria repeated, kicking herself for not making a plan if she did happen to find Kristine.
“You were saying something about old-timers.”
“Oh, right.” Curious about what the cowboys were doing, she pivoted back around. She saw Kristine tying her lead mule to a post by a large wooden platform. It looked exactly like a dock she’d expect to see in a lake with a rowboat tied to the side, yet this was on dry land. “Old-timers telling stories about back when I was a teenager just learning the ropes,” Gloria said.
“Adam’s got those stories, and he’s always saying he wished he had funding to keep you at the field office here. I always thought you were kind of relieved there wasn’t money for something full-time for you here. I thought you liked being out in the wilds on your own.”
“I do like where I am. I love what I do.” She kept her eye on the group that had gathered to help unload the mules. “I’m just realizing that it would be nice to have a group.” Like the one that she watched working together. They were a unit. The rangers she worked with became units. She’d always been the outsider. Strange that she’d never been so aware of it before.
Her mother laughed heartily. “Does this phone have a record button? I want to hear you say that again. Don’t you remember me bugging you to go hang out with people your own age when you were in high school?”
“I remember,” she said. Gloria wished she was closer to the work. In a flash, Kristine and Sandy pulled large leather bags from each side of the mule and tossed them onto the dock. Dozer emptied out the bags, stowing the canvas tarps and long ropes in the shed. Kristine glanced toward the building where Gloria stood. Her eyes hit Gloria like an arrow finding its target.
“You sound so blue,” her mother’s voice brought Gloria back to the conversation she was having. “Not your usual whip-people-into-shape self.”
Gloria knew she should respond, but couldn’t find words. When they had finished unloading the mules, Dozer and Kristine appeared to discuss something before Dozer took the string and led them away from the dock. Kristine sauntered across the yard, spurs clinking, the fringe of short chaps she wore slapping below her knees. She pushed her rolled-up sleeves back down, concealing her strong forearms, and her black hat shaded her face as she concentrated on buttoning her cuffs. As she entered the store, she glanced briefly in Gloria’s direction.
“I’m just in that adjustment period, finding my bearings,” Gloria answered. She shifted her position and was able to look in the doorway. Kristine had paused at the counter, chatting with the spellbound store clerk as she rang up an ice cream. As Kristine walked to her truck, the clerk followed her with her eyes until she realized Gloria was watching. She shrugged with a smile of acknowledgment as if to say they’d both been caught. Oblivious to the two women behind her, Kristine climbed into the cab of her truck and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Maybe you
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