The hooves thumped a galloping cadence against the hard-packed prairie trail, dry from a drought since the spring rains. Jerry had driven out the calves and their mothers to a protected pasture near The Ranch in a cove of hills to feed until weaning was complete and the yearlings could be driven out further to the wide-open range. His dad headed towards him on his steed and signaled him to follow east towards the river, a natural boundary that bordered the eastern edge of the main pasture. Father and son galloped at a run, side-by-side on the dual lane trail, their bandanas flapped in the hot, dry wind, heads bent forward in a competitive stance. Their steeds, nose to nose, nares flared, a thousand pounds of muscle synchronized for power and speed. As they crested the hill that gave a view of the river plain below, they leaned back, their race a dead heat. The horses slowed to a trot and then to a walk as their lungs continued to billow, their glutes flinching.
“Nice run, son. That’s something you’ll always remember, to ride like the wind, flying as one with yer hoss.” He said it with a cowboy’s drawl, one who spent his days in the saddle, rounding up a stray, patrolling fences for breaches to mend, riding the tractor to cut hay, breeding the cows, birthing calves—the endless chores of a sixth-generation rancher with a son that refused to continue this heritage.
“Yee-ha!” Jerry shouted. The race fueled him with adrenaline. “It’s been awhile since we’ve run together. I’m ready to take on the drovers Down Under.”
“So why are you makin’ that trip? Same work as you do here. Why blow the money you saved for grad school?”
The rush dissipated like air from a balloon, deflated again by his father’s lack of support. “That’s right. That’s why I’m going—to blow the money on some whimsical adventure. Dad, I need to get away, somewhere around people that I’ve never been, to gain another perspective. Right now, I’m perplexed. My plans for grad school, like a balloon popped by a blow dart—from where I don’t know . . . Or maybe I do. It wasn’t my doing or my plan, but I do know this . . . ” He pulled in the reins to stop the gentle walk. His mare snorted. “My life changed this spring.”
“You did seem a bit different at spring break son, a bit dazed and distant. This ain’t about some woman, is it?” His dad cracked a slanted grin up one side of his face, and then let out a loud, belly laugh. Jerry responded in kind, his smile betraying him. “Well, I’ll be—I should've known—your mom and I were high school sweethearts—”
“Hold on, Dad, not so fast. There’s a lot going on that’s confusing.”
“Best you talk about that with your mom, son, she knows women better than I do.” His dad nodded at the western sky now black and low, “We got a storm brewin’.” He healed the stallion in the flanks, and the horse leaped into a canter.
Jerry and his mare chased after, and when he had sidled up to them, he yelled into the wind, “It’s more than that, I had a life-changing experience— ”
A streak of a lightning bolt stretched from the dark mass to the prairie, a jagged column of white against the blue horizon, a contrast of peace and war in the heavens, the thunderhead that approached, a menace of unbalanced electric charge. Most of these thunderheads had produced no rain during this prolonged drought, yet lightning showered from them instead.
“Looks like it’ll hug the valley,” his dad said as he drew his hand on the horizon. “If we stay high with the wind at our back, I think we’ll be safe. No cover out here, and it looks to be short, but it’s suckin’ a lot of hot air off the plain, the tallgrass is near flat. Spring was so wet, couldn’t stage the burns, tillers taller than usual. This fodder is thick and dry as tinder.”
Jerry turned his horse to point across the range. “The calves and dams are cornered in the pasture cove. They’re safe. What else do you want to get done today?”
“There’s a herd grazin’ east headin’ towards Snake Pond. The spring is dry from the drought, and the water's contaminated with fecal bacteria. We need to drive them west towards the creek bottoms. Storm should be passed by the time we reach ’em.”
Jerry looked over his shoulder just as three thunderbolts buried their discharge in the tallgrass. He nudged his mare to catch up with his dad and sidled alongside to engage him in a conversation deeper than cattle or their dung that poisoned water holes.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Yeah?”
“When did you know you wanted to be a rancher?
“Oh, I guess when I was about . . . About ready for school. I didn’t want to go . . . It would’ve been my first time to spend each day off the ranch. My mamma had homeschooled my brothers, and she wanted me to have other opportunities, to be around other kids and adults. Funny thing is, the more I was away from the ranch, the more I wanted to make it my life. Guess that didn’t happen to you, huh?”
“Isn’t that why you sent me to college, to see a different world?”
“I wanted you to have a broader look at life and make your own choice. I knew if I tried to pin you down, you would run. I didn’t want you runnin’ away from somethin’. I was hopin’ you would see what we have here, a family heritage. The breedin’ business and ranchin’ have changed, and I’m too old-fashioned to make those changes. You’re the new generation.”
“What if I was running towards something? Would that open your mind to support me, open your heart to bless me? I’m still searching, and I feel a change that has overcome my desires . . . A change of heart produced by God’s Spirit . . . not just about Christina—”
“Christina?
“Yeah, she has a name.”
“You didn’t mention her spring break?”
“Just met her and . . . I had something else on my mind.”
“Oh, yeah . . . Something like . . . you heard from God.”
“Yeah, well, after spending most of, nearly all of our time together since then, I’m certain that I heard from God . . . About the direction of my life. Just don’t know what to do about it.”
“Yep, sounds like God to me. Never get the whole story. Would be too easy or hard, dependin’ on what He’s up to. God calls it faith and waiting. If He told us what tomorrow would bring, we might not even want to get in the saddle. Huh—been there, done that, many times, son.”
“So, you see my dilemma?”
“Oh, yeah, God and love. That’s a train wreck about to happen.”
“Train wreck?”
“Yeah, the heart can be pretty wicked.”
“I think you mean wicked different than we use it.”
“Heh . . . yeah, so your sister tells me. Okay, how about evil, then. The heart can choose to do some things that are absolutely wrong. Kind of like when you were a teenager, which wasn’t that long ago, at least for my memory, probably a lifetime for you, thinkin’ that you know it all, bein’ a college grad and all. Anyway, when you were 15, just before I was about to give you the keys to the Chevy, you said some mean things to me.” His dad looked over at Jerry, their horses slowed to a walk, the wind now in their face as they had rounded the hill and headed to a lower plain.
“Yeah, I know dad.” The memory popped up, and he hung his head low. “I’m sorry. Ya know I never meant what I said.”
“Never brought it up to your face, son. Been there, done that. Done the same with my dad. Most of us do. We take out our frustrations on the ones we love.” This time, it was his dad that hung his head low. “Your mom is a forgiving woman.” They rode in silence at a walk, the dual trails spotted with exposed flint from the rocky slope that projected through the sea of grass. “You have her heart, Jerry. You have a soft heart that will listen to a woman’s. More than listen. One that will serve—” His dad stopped short. His nose lifted high and drew in the familiar scent of springtime burns. But it was not Spring.
He whipped his stallion around and heeled its flanks. The half-ton horsepower clamored up the escarpment to the grassy hilltop. What he saw made him cringe. The horizon was a wall of fire.
† † †
Copyright 2017 © Jeff Cambridge
Excerpt from PURSUIT, a novel by Jeff Cambridge.
Author of transformational fiction—
Real characters in real life drama that tell the story of their transformation to become more like Jesus.
To read the scenes sequentially, begin with
“PURSUIT: A Novel – Prologue”
Located in the May Blog Archive. Click on the episodes and enjoy.
This episode is pre-published. The book will be available Spring 2018.
Your comments are welcomed and appreciated. Check one of the reaction boxes below, write a comment, or email me at lightbycambridge@gmail.com.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, businesses, organizations, and locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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