Page 27 of Rootbound
“I was excited, and just really moved by that shot. I showed up at his hotel that morning and he was excited for me to stay there with him, to be there while he was getting his break at Basecamp. I thought it would feel like being at summer camp together or something…
“He’d seen some fucked up things on that fire… burnt animal bodies, countless burnt homes. And—and a few people who’d been trapped in their vehicles. One was a kid.” I inhale shakily. “I guess he’d gotten separated from his family on a hike. They had barely escaped, but he had made a wrong turn…
“People don’t realize how fast fires like that can move. Cole used to tell me the noise of them—the roar alone was one if the scariest parts. And he—this poor kid must’ve gotten into the car hoping it would protect him.
“And then there I was, completely oblivious. I came back and told Cole all about this stupid picture, about what I saw and howIfelt about it—probably sounding so ridiculous. So selfish and unaware. I justhadto get home, and get it edited and developed as quickly as possible. I remember him being supportive, but it seemed forced, you know? I was so caught up in my own bullshit that I think I just didn’t think about his perspective.
“I remember Allie being there, being a wreck. She’d been the one to initially find the boy…
“So, I think that I took off, excited about this damn picture I took, and they leaned on each other instead.”
They’re both silent for a moment. I see Emmaline swipeacross her face quickly, before saying, “Well, sweetheart, you don’t discount what you do and make excuses for what he did. He could have asked you to stay. He made choices, too… When you’re married or family, and you need someone, it’s on you to communicate that. If you can’t, what’s the point? You should be able to tell someone when you want to lean on them, or if you just need them there. And before you start, Grady, and try to tell me that sounds like codependency or some mumbo jumbo—it’s not. I’m talking about expression, and honesty. If you didn’t let yourself be happy or successful, Tait, because of him, well,thatwould be codependent, plus just a damn shame. Your picture could have inspired a whole other chain of events in someone’s life forgood.Maybe someone saw that and will now pursue a career in environmental studies or preservation, or even firefighting, who knows? A picture, a dream, a story—whatever it is that causes that initial inspiration, that tiny thing is the spark. It is absolutely paramount that you see that, and that you still be proud of pursuing your dreams…
“… and also turn left here.”
Fifteen
Henry
The entire downtown hears the truck before we see it. My view is especially front and center, though, from outside the feed store. The truck squeals and fishtails around the corner, then proceeds to creep to its destination; a poor attempt at being inconspicuous.…
I’m somehow not the least bit surprised to see Tait in the driver’s seat. Emma—Mrs. Logan—is in the passenger’s, with Grady’s face poking through the middle from the backseat. They all offer me a well-timed, singular wave in synchrony, and I can’t help but laugh. I tip my hat and get back to loading hay.
I wonder what all transpired to group those three together this early in the day. No doubt Mrs. Logan had a hand in it… but I realize Tait is probably here to get her new camera. I’ll have to track her down in a bit after I’m done here, before I need to meet Charlie and James up at Duane’s to go over the season’s schedule.
Duane is the eldest of the Charlie’s siblings, and while he is my least favorite, he’s been the one to spearhead the most profitable side of the Range, negotiating and managing the production and schedule for Dollar Mountain. Charlie is the one who really steered it into a guest ranch versus a working cattle ranch, and evolved the place to something everyone in this family can live with. But Duane has been the one to pimp it out to the big shots. He’s had enough remnants of old cabins, areas filled with Native artifacts, and random trees declared historical or protected at this point to keep the land intact forever. This meeting tends to be more of a formality, since we know the overall production schedule, and since the next few months will give Charlie, James, and I an excuse to be gone for hunting season, anyway.
However, we still need to ensure none of our lines are crossed and that they’ll remain in their assigned areas so we can still hunt and guide without clashing. Duane thinks that’s all second fiddle at this point, but Charlie remains firm—he believes that the land and its history and culture are what draw people ofallkinds to the place, and will long after Dollar Mountain ends. Since the guest ranch is occupied by the various staff associated with the show, we need to maintain the outfitting entity. The Logans (even Duane, in his own way) have a deep respect for their land and what it’s always provided. It’s just that Charlie and James feel that it’s best appreciated in those real, visceral experiences—not via a television.
My mind wanders back to Tait and whatshethinks of the whole evolution of the place. There’s so many years of history… Does she think the show cheapens any of it? Doesshe even know the history and the incredible thing that they’ve managed to maintain in the first place?
I put away the hay hook when I see her jetting into the grocery store next door, deciding I’d better catch up with her now before I end up being too late. I stuff my gloves into my back pocket and head inside.
It takes me a bit to find her, but when I do she’s holding her grocery basket with her jacket in it, staring at chips.
She doesn’t give any outward sign that she’s noticed my approach, but when I stop beside her, she continues her far-off stare and does a sad sing-song, “Hey, Henry.”
“Hey, Tait. You doing alright here?”
“Oh, sure… just having my third existential crisis of the day.”
I know she’s referring to something else, but since she’s opting for humor, albeit a little dark, I jump in.
“Yeah, I hear that. Do you go with the Ruffles, or the salt and vinegar Lay’s? It’s a loaded choice. My personal favorite are the cheddar and sour cream Ruffles, though. They might smell like feet, but artificial cheese is good for the soul.”
Her little half-hearted laugh makes something inside me squeeze. She grabs the Ruffles and we move on. I feel stupidly proud of her going with my recommendation.
We both attempt to speak at the same time, “Did you” and “So, what’s” coming out a garbled mix. So I gesture for her to go first.
“So, what’s on your agenda today? What is it youdoexactly?” she asks as she throws some popcorn in the basket.
“It’s an evolving job, honestly. Aside from the guest ranch and outfitting season, the main jobs revolve around the equineside of things. When the show came in, they brought their horses and their trainers, and I got lumped in with them a lot of the time. Plus, we have our own, still. I guess I sort of represent the ranch’s interests by making sure the animals’ care is managed while they board with us, and before we have all their people staying on set with us twenty-four seven,” I explain.
“I’d guess that that lends itself to having slightly less people around that way—if they’ve got you overseeing it?” she asks, seeming genuinely interested.
“Exactly. That was the simplest way we could figure to have less ‘cooks in the kitchen,’ so to speak. First come the animals, then come the production crew, and lastly the actors, their trailers, their harems.” At this she looks at me accusingly, and my stomach does one of those bastardy flips thinking about the little kernel of jealousy I read on her face. “Kidding, kidding. But, by the time the whole swarm descends it’ll feel like a music festival in that valley. Thankfully, by that time, I’ll get to be far away and on a mountain.”
I look down at her basket to see that she’s also put in some fruit, a box of cake mix, some fresh herbs, and a rotisserie chicken that is balancing precariously on the edge.