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randomplaces2011-01-23 08:11 pm
random_xtras) wrote in randomplaces2011-01-23 08:11 pm
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Kayla 1
Kayla’s eyes jerked open as the diesel rig’s horn cut through her sleep. For a moment she was disoriented and couldn’t figure out where she was.
Then Cassie's soft breathing came to her ears and she relaxed.
“Jerk,” she muttered as she crawled out of the sleeper on the back of her battered green Chevy pickup and shoved her golden blond hair back over her shoulder. No point trying to sleep any more; the next guy would just do the same thing. It wasn’t even light yet.
She looked over her shoulder at her sleeping six-year-old daughter, her green eyes softening, then sighed and started pulling on her beat-up black boots.
“Dang.” One of them had worn through on the sole.
Kayla wiggled her finger through the hole, then sighed again and pulled it on.
If this next town didn’t shell out a job she’d be barefoot.
Her stomach growled as she put the truck in gear, reminding her of things she’d already been doing without.
“Is it time to get up?” Cassie’s tousled blond head poked out of the sleeper.
“No. Go back to sleep.” Kayla kept her eyes on the road.
“Yes, Mom.” The even breathing resumed.
The sign by the road said, “Treasure Flats, Texas. Population 2000.” From what
Kayla could see of the town it looked like most of those two thousand lived with relatives.
Not promising. Still, she had to try.
There was a young woman behind the counter of the gas station. She jumped as Kayla came in and gave her the kind of look you get from people who spend the graveyard shift reading horror stories.
“Uh…can I help you?” She checked the pump readout.
“I’m just looking for information about the town.” Kayla tried to not look at the chocolate bars right under her nose. “I’m looking for work.”
The girl took in Kayla’s faded denim jacket, her worn-out boots, and the old black cowboy hat pulled low over her eyes. “The riding place’s hiring.”
Kayla pushed her hat back. “Shoveling crap?”
“I don’t know.” The girl shrugged, her hand creeping back toward her book.
“Okay. So where is this riding place? I don’t think I saw it on the way in.”
“No, it’s on the other side of town, past the old grain elevator.” She ran her fingers over her book impatiently.
“Thanks.”
* * *
The place didn’t look like much. The gate that said, “Treasure Flats Western Riding Academy.” was listing to one side as she drove underneath. So was the rusty old trailer marked ‘office’.
Kayla stopped the Chev and stared thoughtfully at the huge old hip roof barn across the driveway from the office. It didn’t look a lot better than the gate, but the horses in the corrals around it looked healthy and well-tended. Several of them had their heads over the fence, nickering at her.
She sighed and felt the hole in her boot, then got out of the truck. “Stay here, Cass.”
A peeved sigh followed her out.
The office door was locked.
Kayla frowned at it for a couple minutes, then glanced around. “Hello?”
Her only answer was a dog barking somewhere.
Kayla scratched her head, looking around again, then tapped her finger against the doorknob, wondering what to do next.
“May I help you?”
Kayla nearly jumped out of her skin.
“I’m sorry!” said the tiny brunet who’d come up behind her.
“That’s okay.” Kayla swallowed her heart. “Are you the boss of this outfit?”
“The boss had to go into town.” The brunet ran her hand through her close cropped curls. “What is it that you need?”
“I was told you wanted someone to work.”
“Yes we do.” Her face brightened. “Just let me jimmy this lock so we can sit in the office.”
“Don’t you have the key?” Kayla looked at her sideways.
“Oh yeah, but the lock’s so old…. There we go.” She held the door open for Kayla.
They sat in the battered plastic chairs on opposite sides of the dented metal desk and eyed one another uncertainly.
“So about this job…,” Kayla began.
“Right,” the brunet leaned forward. “Have you ever taught Western equation?”
“No.” Kayla wasn’t even sure what it was, to tell the truth.
“Have you ever competed in any Western events?”
“I barrel raced and pole bent when I was a kid.” Kayla shrugged. “Haven't been around horses much lately, though.”
The brunet looked at her sympathetically. “No? Well, have you ever trained young horses?”
“I broke my colt,” said Kayla, “and this little mule we had.”
They both looked up as a horn honked outside.
The brunet jumped up. “I have to go. Your job’s to train the young horses and the beginning riders. $6.50 an hour. The two horses on the hotwalker need to be put away in a few minutes.” She grabbed a backpack from by the door and jumped down the steps toward the blue mustang in the driveway.
“Hey!” Kayla knocked her chair down in her hurry to catch her before she was gone. “What do I do after that?”
“Hold down the fort ‘til Barnabas gets back!”
* * *
She was pulling weeds out of a half-barrel of marigolds when a banged-up yellow Cadillac with one headlight pulled up and disgorged a scruffy-looking kid in a cowboy hat.
He glanced around and walked over to her, trying hard for an easy saunter. “Hi, I got off early.”
“Okay.” Kayla raised one eyebrow.
“So what do I do today?”
“Beats me,” she said. “Wait ‘til Barnabas gets back and ask him.”
“But I cant’ come back today.” The kid scowled. “Do I get the money back for today’s lesson?”
“Ask Barnabas.” That was the only answer she’d gotten so far.
Still scowling, the kid got back in his beat-up Caddie and left.
Kayla chewed thoughtfully on a pigweed, then stood up to see where Cassie was.
Seeing her on the fence of one of the corrals, she sighed and checked her watch, then went back to the weeds.
Squeals and a thump made her look up. “You two cut it out!”
The two colts who’d been on the hotwalker turned to look at her innocently. Then the buckskin ducked and head-butted the brown in the chops, eliciting another squeal of outrage and a retaliatory kick.
“Brats.” Kayla went to break them up and found that the brown had skinned the back of his leg just above the hoof.
“Great!” she growled, bending to look at it. “What am I supposed to do about this?”
“Rub a little liniment on it.”
Kayla jerked upright and stared at the man leaning against the fence. “Uh…” Man, was this guy ugly! Werewolf beard, broken nose, scar on one cheek. Kind of like Chuck Norris, only bigger and homelier. Nice grey eyes, though.
“You’re the new trainer?”
She nodded. “Let me guess, you’re Barnabas.”
“Yeah. And you?” He held out a paw missing two fingertips for her to shake.
“Kayla Lorn.”
He nodded himself and then bent stiffly to look at the scrap on the brown’s leg. “This isn’t bad. He’ll be okay.” He straightened and gave the colt a pat.
He’d moved closer while checking the scrape. Kayla swallowed and sidled away from him. “You’re the boss.”
He looked at her with a thoughtful frown. “That little kid in with Twister belong to you?”
“Yeah.” What was Cassie into now?
“Good work. She’s the first person Twister’s let in the pen in nearly two years.”
“What?” Kayla’s heart nearly stopped beating, visions of Cassie getting stomped by some old rodeo bronc filling her mind.
“Go see.” He pointed toward the other side of the barn.
Cassie had a currycomb in one hand, busily brushing the striped coat of something that looked sort of like a mule while she jabbered away. The animal stood with its eyes closed, one hip cocked.
Kayla saw all this as she slid to a stop outside the pen. “Cassidy Jane Lorn, you get out of there!”
Cassie looked up with a frown as the animal shifted and put one ear back. “I’m not done, Mom. Stop scaring the zebra.”
“You….” Kayla froze as Barnabas put a hand on her shoulder.
“Let her be,” he said quietly. “If Twister hasn’t done anything by now, she won’t.”
Kayla shrugged his hand off angrily. “Don’t tell me what to do with my kid!” she snapped. “And keep your hands to yourself!”
She grabbed Cassie, who had crawled out of the corral, by the arm and hauled her back to the truck.
“Mom, you’re hurtin’ me! Let go of my arm!” Cassie wailed.
Kayla sat on the worn vinyl seat abruptly and took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“Momma, are you okay?” Cassie snuggled up to her and tried to see her face. “Are we gonna go away? Don’t cry, Momma.”
Kayla held her close. “Shh. I’m okay.”
“You’re shivering.”
“I’m okay. You just scared me, going in there with that old muley thing.”
Cassie looked at her, unfooled. “It was ‘cause he touched you.”
Kayla’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah.”
“Are we going away now?” Cassie squirmed slightly, brow furrowed.
Kayla sighed and wiped at her eyes. “We can’t. I have to work, or we won’t have anything to eat.”
Cassie’s face cleared and she beamed. “Good! I like this place. And I like the zebra.”
Then Cassie's soft breathing came to her ears and she relaxed.
“Jerk,” she muttered as she crawled out of the sleeper on the back of her battered green Chevy pickup and shoved her golden blond hair back over her shoulder. No point trying to sleep any more; the next guy would just do the same thing. It wasn’t even light yet.
She looked over her shoulder at her sleeping six-year-old daughter, her green eyes softening, then sighed and started pulling on her beat-up black boots.
“Dang.” One of them had worn through on the sole.
Kayla wiggled her finger through the hole, then sighed again and pulled it on.
If this next town didn’t shell out a job she’d be barefoot.
Her stomach growled as she put the truck in gear, reminding her of things she’d already been doing without.
“Is it time to get up?” Cassie’s tousled blond head poked out of the sleeper.
“No. Go back to sleep.” Kayla kept her eyes on the road.
“Yes, Mom.” The even breathing resumed.
The sign by the road said, “Treasure Flats, Texas. Population 2000.” From what
Kayla could see of the town it looked like most of those two thousand lived with relatives.
Not promising. Still, she had to try.
There was a young woman behind the counter of the gas station. She jumped as Kayla came in and gave her the kind of look you get from people who spend the graveyard shift reading horror stories.
“Uh…can I help you?” She checked the pump readout.
“I’m just looking for information about the town.” Kayla tried to not look at the chocolate bars right under her nose. “I’m looking for work.”
The girl took in Kayla’s faded denim jacket, her worn-out boots, and the old black cowboy hat pulled low over her eyes. “The riding place’s hiring.”
Kayla pushed her hat back. “Shoveling crap?”
“I don’t know.” The girl shrugged, her hand creeping back toward her book.
“Okay. So where is this riding place? I don’t think I saw it on the way in.”
“No, it’s on the other side of town, past the old grain elevator.” She ran her fingers over her book impatiently.
“Thanks.”
The place didn’t look like much. The gate that said, “Treasure Flats Western Riding Academy.” was listing to one side as she drove underneath. So was the rusty old trailer marked ‘office’.
Kayla stopped the Chev and stared thoughtfully at the huge old hip roof barn across the driveway from the office. It didn’t look a lot better than the gate, but the horses in the corrals around it looked healthy and well-tended. Several of them had their heads over the fence, nickering at her.
She sighed and felt the hole in her boot, then got out of the truck. “Stay here, Cass.”
A peeved sigh followed her out.
The office door was locked.
Kayla frowned at it for a couple minutes, then glanced around. “Hello?”
Her only answer was a dog barking somewhere.
Kayla scratched her head, looking around again, then tapped her finger against the doorknob, wondering what to do next.
“May I help you?”
Kayla nearly jumped out of her skin.
“I’m sorry!” said the tiny brunet who’d come up behind her.
“That’s okay.” Kayla swallowed her heart. “Are you the boss of this outfit?”
“The boss had to go into town.” The brunet ran her hand through her close cropped curls. “What is it that you need?”
“I was told you wanted someone to work.”
“Yes we do.” Her face brightened. “Just let me jimmy this lock so we can sit in the office.”
“Don’t you have the key?” Kayla looked at her sideways.
“Oh yeah, but the lock’s so old…. There we go.” She held the door open for Kayla.
They sat in the battered plastic chairs on opposite sides of the dented metal desk and eyed one another uncertainly.
“So about this job…,” Kayla began.
“Right,” the brunet leaned forward. “Have you ever taught Western equation?”
“No.” Kayla wasn’t even sure what it was, to tell the truth.
“Have you ever competed in any Western events?”
“I barrel raced and pole bent when I was a kid.” Kayla shrugged. “Haven't been around horses much lately, though.”
The brunet looked at her sympathetically. “No? Well, have you ever trained young horses?”
“I broke my colt,” said Kayla, “and this little mule we had.”
They both looked up as a horn honked outside.
The brunet jumped up. “I have to go. Your job’s to train the young horses and the beginning riders. $6.50 an hour. The two horses on the hotwalker need to be put away in a few minutes.” She grabbed a backpack from by the door and jumped down the steps toward the blue mustang in the driveway.
“Hey!” Kayla knocked her chair down in her hurry to catch her before she was gone. “What do I do after that?”
“Hold down the fort ‘til Barnabas gets back!”
She was pulling weeds out of a half-barrel of marigolds when a banged-up yellow Cadillac with one headlight pulled up and disgorged a scruffy-looking kid in a cowboy hat.
He glanced around and walked over to her, trying hard for an easy saunter. “Hi, I got off early.”
“Okay.” Kayla raised one eyebrow.
“So what do I do today?”
“Beats me,” she said. “Wait ‘til Barnabas gets back and ask him.”
“But I cant’ come back today.” The kid scowled. “Do I get the money back for today’s lesson?”
“Ask Barnabas.” That was the only answer she’d gotten so far.
Still scowling, the kid got back in his beat-up Caddie and left.
Kayla chewed thoughtfully on a pigweed, then stood up to see where Cassie was.
Seeing her on the fence of one of the corrals, she sighed and checked her watch, then went back to the weeds.
Squeals and a thump made her look up. “You two cut it out!”
The two colts who’d been on the hotwalker turned to look at her innocently. Then the buckskin ducked and head-butted the brown in the chops, eliciting another squeal of outrage and a retaliatory kick.
“Brats.” Kayla went to break them up and found that the brown had skinned the back of his leg just above the hoof.
“Great!” she growled, bending to look at it. “What am I supposed to do about this?”
“Rub a little liniment on it.”
Kayla jerked upright and stared at the man leaning against the fence. “Uh…” Man, was this guy ugly! Werewolf beard, broken nose, scar on one cheek. Kind of like Chuck Norris, only bigger and homelier. Nice grey eyes, though.
“You’re the new trainer?”
She nodded. “Let me guess, you’re Barnabas.”
“Yeah. And you?” He held out a paw missing two fingertips for her to shake.
“Kayla Lorn.”
He nodded himself and then bent stiffly to look at the scrap on the brown’s leg. “This isn’t bad. He’ll be okay.” He straightened and gave the colt a pat.
He’d moved closer while checking the scrape. Kayla swallowed and sidled away from him. “You’re the boss.”
He looked at her with a thoughtful frown. “That little kid in with Twister belong to you?”
“Yeah.” What was Cassie into now?
“Good work. She’s the first person Twister’s let in the pen in nearly two years.”
“What?” Kayla’s heart nearly stopped beating, visions of Cassie getting stomped by some old rodeo bronc filling her mind.
“Go see.” He pointed toward the other side of the barn.
Cassie had a currycomb in one hand, busily brushing the striped coat of something that looked sort of like a mule while she jabbered away. The animal stood with its eyes closed, one hip cocked.
Kayla saw all this as she slid to a stop outside the pen. “Cassidy Jane Lorn, you get out of there!”
Cassie looked up with a frown as the animal shifted and put one ear back. “I’m not done, Mom. Stop scaring the zebra.”
“You….” Kayla froze as Barnabas put a hand on her shoulder.
“Let her be,” he said quietly. “If Twister hasn’t done anything by now, she won’t.”
Kayla shrugged his hand off angrily. “Don’t tell me what to do with my kid!” she snapped. “And keep your hands to yourself!”
She grabbed Cassie, who had crawled out of the corral, by the arm and hauled her back to the truck.
“Mom, you’re hurtin’ me! Let go of my arm!” Cassie wailed.
Kayla sat on the worn vinyl seat abruptly and took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
“Momma, are you okay?” Cassie snuggled up to her and tried to see her face. “Are we gonna go away? Don’t cry, Momma.”
Kayla held her close. “Shh. I’m okay.”
“You’re shivering.”
“I’m okay. You just scared me, going in there with that old muley thing.”
Cassie looked at her, unfooled. “It was ‘cause he touched you.”
Kayla’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah.”
“Are we going away now?” Cassie squirmed slightly, brow furrowed.
Kayla sighed and wiped at her eyes. “We can’t. I have to work, or we won’t have anything to eat.”
Cassie’s face cleared and she beamed. “Good! I like this place. And I like the zebra.”