The sound of a plastic scooper being shoved into a trashcan full of horse feed rang in my ears. The noise played in this space more times than a record breaker on the radio. Pellets jingled into buckets, volume increasing as I rounded a corner into the feed room.
The muscles in Nate’s shoulders bunched as he propelled the scoop farther into the bin, ignoring me completely. I crossed my arms and let my body fill the doorway. No more fleeing or evading. Time for truth.
“What happened Nate?”
“Wanted to feed before it got too dark, that’s all.” Scoop. Dump.
I flicked a switch, light spilling into the room. “Nice try, but there’s been electricity out here longer than you’ve been alive.”
Scoop. Dump.
“Nate.”
He rested the heels of his palms against the rim of the trashcan, pressing down like he wanted to squash the conversation or the memories of Nashville or both. “I’ll take care of it, Malachi. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Not sure which to address first, theitor Nate’s misconception that I wouldn’t always worry about him—the same way I worried about Gran and Miriam and the ranch. “I worry because I care.”
“I know you do.” His chin dipped to his shoulder.
Three solid seconds passed. “What happened in Nashville?”
One of the horses whinnied, wondering why the hold up with supper.
Nate turned and sank his hands into his pockets then half sat on the lip of the trashcan. He shook his head while staring at the ground, refusing to meet my eye. “I’m such an idiot.” The words rushed out on a wave of air, as if the verbal admission had been a punch in the gut.
I waited. Hard stories were like cantankerous bulls and a trailer. Push too hard and they felt cornered. People got hurt.
Finally, Nate sighed. “I’d been playing at a bar on Music Row known to be a popular hangout location for a specific manager I’d wanted to catch the eye of. I never did see the guy, but another man approached me after my set one night.” The toe of his boot made a line in the dust covering the floor. “He said I had the stuff to go far in the industry.”
Nate glanced up at me for a fraction of a second before looking back down at the imprint he’d made. “Should have listened to you. A sure thing is never a sure thing. Behind the honey of his flattering words poised a scorpion’s stinger ready to paralyze.” His calloused fingers, roughened from hours at the guitar, rubbed at his neck before falling back to his side in defeat. “Five thousand dollars. That snake-oil salesman conned me into taking out a personal loan and signing over five thousand dollars in exchange for a record label contract that never existed.”
Outwardly, I didn’t move. Not a muscle. My thoughts, however, jumped and twisted like a bronc in a rodeo, not lasting even a second before turning to the next. The price tag of gullibility. The likelihood of finding the scammer and pressing charges. Consequences to Nate. The family. The ranch.
My little brother’s sore humiliation and the loss of his dream.
I stumbled over that one.
Why did this have to be a loss? A set-back, sure, but not the end.
I closed the distance between myself and Nate while my mind did an about-face and marched the opposite direction. Toward Jocelyn and her friend Betsy. A sound engineer, she’d said. Maybe the roadmap to a career in music didn’t lead Nate away from us toward Nashville. Maybe his dream had pursued him here. To the Double B. Wouldn’t that have made great-great-granddad eat his hat?
My hand clamped down on Nate’s shoulder, squeezing reassurance into my grip. “It’s going to be all right.”
His gaze twisted in shame as he finally fixed his eyes on mine. “How could I have been so stupid?”
“Not stupid. Sometimes we desire something so badly, we believe what we want to believe and become blind to any warning signs that might have been there.” I shook my head. “The only thing you’re guilty of is having unadulterated hope and aspirations. Nothing wrong with either of those things.”
Nate pulled his hands from his pockets and fiddled with his fingers. “I…I think I’m going to sell Domino. With his training and being a warmblood, he’ll cover the balance of the loan.”
And maybe then some.
Nate lifted his head, his jaw hard with resolve. This decision had cost him more than just money. Nate had purchased Domino as a yearling and started training right away, though he’d waited until after the horse’s second birthday before attempting to saddle and ride. They’d been together almost seven years. Selling Domino would more than bruise Nate’s heart.
“You’re just trying to get out of work.” My attempted joke fell flat. Like always. “I respect your decision to take responsibility for this…” Naming the situation a mess out loud felt harsh. “Look, don’t give up just because you stumbled over an obstacle. Thomases aren’t quitters.”
Nate reached down and picked up a feed bucket. “I learned my lesson and where I belong. Here, at the Double B.”
I picked up the other bucket. “Of course you belong here. This is your home, you numbskull. But that doesn’t mean you can’t belong somewhere else as well. Everyone knows you’ve got a big enough personality to fill up the whole state of California. Don’t clip your wings before you’ve had the chance to fly.”
