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“Not too many mosquitoes?”
“A few,” he said. “It is by the water.” He’d taken Connor out to a pond in the middle of the ranch, where Spencer had told them to go to catch a few small fish. They hadn’t caught anything though, and Nick said they had to take bacon to get the crawdads to come up. Nate was planning on doing that with Connor in the near future. “So you get fifteen minutes,” he added. “And I know you didn’t call to chat about the ranch.”
To an inmate, their outbound calls were precious. With only three each week, and only fifteen minutes long, every call had to be really important. The prison monitored every call, except those to lawyers, but Nate wasn’t worried about something Ted would say. They’d banded together inside River Bay for a reason, and that was so they’d be able to watch each other’s backs.
“Right,” Ted said, another chuckle coming from his mouth. “Down to twelve minutes. I wanted to ask about the RRC program.”
Surprise darted through Nate. “Oh.” He’d never given it much thought, because he hadn’t dreamed Ward would die or that he’d altered his will. Nate had asked his lawyer to find out where Ward’s ex-wife was, but he hadn’t heard anything yet. “What about it?”
“Do you like it?”
“It has some advantages,” Nate said. “For sure. For one, I have a place to live. A job. A way to earn money. Someone to help me with all the things it takes to live.”
“Bank account, utilities, stuff like that,” Ted said.
“Yeah, all of that,” Nate said. “But I can’t leave the ranch. I can’t go to town myself. I’m driven everywhere.” He didn’t want to dwell on the negative. “It’s nice having my daily interview with Ginger, though. We’re to weeklies now, and I haven’t heard from my parole officer yet. So that’s nice too. She’s nice, and she’s actually pretty easy to work with.” He’d never truly met with a parole officer, so he couldn’t say if he’d like it or not, but he knew it wouldn’t be as casual or as enjoyable as chatting with Ginger about what help he needed and what he was doing fine with.
“I’m wondering if she’d take me,” Ted said, his voice made of ice. He wouldn’t give away if he wanted the RRC at Hope Eternal or not, that was for sure. But him just asking about it meant he wanted it.
“Oh.” More surprise danced through Nate. “I mean, I don’t know. Is she allowed to have more than one inmate here at a time?”
“No idea.”
“I suppose your six months is coming up in what? Three months?”
“Eighty-eight days,” Ted said. They’d talked many times about their release dates, and what they’d do once they got out. The meals they’d eat. The things they’d see and do.
Nate hadn’t done any of them.Yet, he told himself. He wasn’t really out yet anyway.
“Let me find out,” he said. “You sure you want to come here? It’s a lot of work, and Ginger expects you to know it all already. There’s very little training, and alotof horses, and I don’t think I’ve worked less than twelve hours a day since I got here.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work,” Ted said at the same time someone behind Nate said, “Of course I expect a lot of you,especiallythat you’re where you said you were going to be.”
He spun around at the angry—no, furious—tone in Ginger’s voice. He wasn’t sure how many minutes Ted had left on the call, but he knew they wouldn’t go into a bank his friend could use later. He took in Ginger’s blotchy, red face and her folded arms, and decided his friend would have to eat the leftover minutes.
“I have to go,” he said to Ted, who started to protest. “Sorry. Call me next week.” He hung up the phone and glanced at the man who’d come up behind Ginger, huffing and puffing and clearly not wearing the right kind of footwear for a ranch. Nate knew, because he hadn’t been for the first week either.
“I’m sorry?” he asked, his nerves fraying a bit. He knew who that guy was, and he’d rather go shovel manure out of a stall than deal with an angry Ginger and then sit through an interview with his parole officer.
“You’re supposed to be in the stable,” Ginger said, practically shooting fire from her eyes. “And you didn’t answer when I called.”
“I was on the phone.” He lifted his phone as if she hadn’t overheard him talking on it. He’d actually considered asking her about bringing Ted here too, but there was no way that could happen. At least not right now.
“Yes, I heard.” Ginger’s glare could take an entire herd down, but only a flicker of annoyance started in Nate’s gut. It fanned into a flame that burned up and up, and he found himself glaring back.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But I am entitled to a fifteen-minute break in the morning.” He looked at the other man. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Nathaniel Mulbury.”
“Oh, of course,” the man said. “I’m Martin Landy.” The two shook hands, and he nodded back toward the more civilized parts of the ranch. “Should we go talk at the house?”
“Sure,” Nate said, casting one more glance at Ginger. She hadn’t softened at all, and Nate’s ire went right back up. He couldn’t believe he’d told Ted she was nice or easy to work with. Right now, she seemed like a simmering pot about to boil over, and he’d be the one to clean it all up.
Martin walked away, but Nate held back for a few moments. He turned to Ginger, who still wore that growl right on her face. “It sure is nice to know for certain that you don’t trust me,” he said, his voice on the growly side too.
“I didn’t say that.”
“I’m at least a mile from the fence,” he said, taking a menacing step closer to her. “And I don’t have to drop everything in my life and answer your calls, Ginger. That’s not part of the program.” He glared down at her, actually satisfied when she started to wilt. “And youdoexpect a lot, and you’re demanding, and you know what? I haven’t cared, because I’m just so dang glad to be here. But that doesn’t mean it’s been easy for me.”
“Who were you talking to?”
