Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Nate helped clear the table, and all the while he thought about what he had just seen. Jay really wasn't all that effective as the head of his family. The teenager was out of control and rude, and the sister appeared unable to deal with her own daughter. Only Josh acted normal, but then how bad could a six-year-old be? The more he saw of the city guy, the less he was inclined to be charitable in his assessments of him.

Jay was shorter and slimmer than Nate, and had the look about him of a man more comfortable in a suit and tie. His hair color was a darker blond than his sister's, but that was probably due to whatever gunk he put in it to keep it in that "just got out of bed" look. His brown eyes held a wary expression, and he didn't appear to be that comfortable sitting at the table. He was quiet, ineffective and had scared the shit out of Juno last night. Three marks against him already.

Nate knew they should have got someone who actually knew the terrain, and he wasn't just talking the ranch, but Montana, horses, and the reasons why a working ranch had been changed to a dude ranch catering to rich tourists. Did the city guy know how hard it was out here? Nate sighed inwardly. This wasn't what he had been hoping for, and he hadn't heard the guy speak yet.

With the table cleared and dealt with, he, Marcus, and Jay sat down.

"So," Marcus began. "Where do we start?" He sounded excited, like Jay was going to have all the answers.

"Brand," Jay said simply. He placed a notepad on the flat surface and wrote "Brand" in the middle, then circled it dramatically. "Like Coke, or Snickers, or Nike. We need to identify a brand for the ranch."

Marcus sat forward in his chair and nodded. "Can you explain what you need?"

"Well, at its most basic, a brand exists or is created to differentiate between competing but similar products or services. Brand meanings can be tangible, with real characteristics, or intangible, like the emotions or symbolism associated with them. I'd like to carry out a brand audit." Nate watched as Jay scribbled "Brand Audit" in the middle of the page. "The purpose of carrying out a brand audit is to understand how a brand has evolved and what can be done to it so that it becomes more attractive to an audience."

Jay looked at Nate, then at Marcus. "Essentially I need to know why Crooked Tree exists and what you do here. Then I can assess brand equity."

"What the hell is that?" Nate snapped.

"How much the brand is worth to your bottom line, and the core values that define your brand."

Nate refused to ask another question and nodded like that all made complete sense.

Jay continued, "I'll look at seasonal trends, market shares, and statistical analysis, then come up with a real-time solution."

Nate's stomach fell. He was a fish out of water in this room. He knew what worked, but he didn't know shit about brands. The only brands he knew were on cattle and horses. Hell, he knew horses, animals, the ranch, and the people who worked with him. He knew that whatever Crooked Tree was doing wasn't enough, but what made a brand just seemed like a bucket of horseshit to him. For all they knew, Jay was making this crap up as he went along. Did anyone check he'd been to a university? His application cited he was twenty-nine, but he could have forged evidence and actually be someone who went around to unsuspecting family ranches, ripping them off.

"Can you give me an example?" Marcus asked.

"Like Coca-Cola. People have trust in the brand, the logo means something, and in most parts speaks of quality."

"So what you're going to do is create us a logo. Is that it?" Nate was irritable. "Hell, Luke can draw—he'll make us something—we don't need long words to describe that."

"It's a lot more than a logo," Jay began patiently, which only served to irritate Nate.

Nate cursed his reactions silently. What was wrong with him anyway? He wasn't normally this much of an idiot when it came to the ranch.

Jay continued. "What we need to do isn't just a brand. It's about a focused image of what you're trying to do here. Having a plan for making this place sell starts simply and will grow quickly. So I need to give you both questionnaires that I devised." He passed a thick sheaf of papers to Nate and Marcus. "If you could fill in the gaps and maybe summarize what is happening here, that would be good."

Nate stood and pushed his chair back in sudden horror. "Marcus can do that. Nothing I can do here really," he said abruptly. There was no way he could sit here and attempt to read the questions, let alone formulate answers. Fear coiled inside him, accompanied by a very real panic.

"Nate, you don't need to fill them in. Listen… sit down," Marcus pleaded.

Nate ignored him. The last thing he wanted was for Marcus to go all understanding on him and make him a laughing stock in front of Jay. "I haven't got time for this. I need to see to the horses."

"Mr. Todd," Jay said quickly. "Give me three words that mean Crooked Tree to you."

Nate stopped and turned on his heel. Was this some kind of trick? Jay looked so damn serious.

Jay explained. "No writing it down and no thinking. Give me three words."

"Family. Sky. Horses."

Nate watched as Jay scribbled that down with an intense look of concentration. He asked the same question to Marcus. "What about you?"

Marcus didn't hesitate. "Family. Mountains. River."

Nate decided to give Jay a few more seconds.

"So, look at that, Jay announced with a flourish. "Consensus on family. Your family, or other families?"

"Our family," Nate said.

"Others as well—the people who come here," Marcus added.

"And the river, the sky… what about the mountains, the sounds and smells of the ranch? They carry evocative imagery." Jay waved his hands in a wide gesture, then stood to give himself more room. He began to pace. "Crooked Tree, the place under the sky, the mountains and the sky, the history of the river, a journey, journey's end, the wide expanse." His voice was getting louder as he walked, He stopped directly in front of Nate with an animated expression. Nate was taken aback and not sure where to look. "The horses, Nate. Tell me about the horses. Do you breed them? Do you have a family history, provenance, or whatever you call it with livestock? Do you consider them livestock? Why was Gabe's horse called Lightning? Why is Juno called that? Who looks after them? How much do you love your horses?"

He stopped as suddenly as he had begun, his face flushed and a spark of excitement in his eyes.

"Bloodlines," Nate said, "if that's what you mean by who was born to whom. It's called a bloodline. Lightning was born to a beautiful mare called Storm, who belonged to my dad, hence her name. Gabe got her on his fourteenth birthday, and she's still here."

"History," Jay said firmly. "Family and history, stability, forever. We can use that."

"What about the website?" Marcus asked from the table.

Jay rounded on him. "You can't do a website until you have the passion inside you to sell what you are. I can give you the technical expertise, but until I understand your ties to Crooked Tree, I can't give you an effective plan."

Nate thought he was following this. Jay was basically saying that it didn't matter what words he used, he needed to see the ranch and understand why it had to survive. There really was only one way to do that—by horse.

"Come with me," he said.

Jay retrieved his notebook and pen. "Where are we going?"

"I want you to meet someone."

Jay followed him out of the house, and they walked the narrow trail from the back of Marcus's house to the stables. Nate couldn't fail to notice that Jay slowed down as they got closer, until he'd fallen behind. Nate stopped and turned to face him.

"What's wrong?"

"Is this a horse thing?" Jay asked quickly.

Nate considered what to say to the flighty man who had apprehension painted across his face. Where had the spark-eyed, enthusiastic ideas man gone? Jay had known this was a dude ranch with horse riding, horse trails, and in fact all-around horse. In the end, Nate didn't criticize. The ad they'd placed didn't specify that their business guy should ride.

"Keep up," he snapped instead.

Jay caught up with him. "I don't need to see the horses."

"You said you wanted to understand what we are."

"You could just tell me."

"I thought you liked hands-on. You were the one skulking in the bushes for inspiration."

"I was not skulking. I was researching."

They reached the large barn doors. Nate opened the door and indicated Jay should go through first. "I need to turn them out." Jay looked at him nervously and Nate could see the pinprick of blood where Jay had bitten his lip. "Stay here," he said firmly.

Jay didn't argue. He leaned against the wall and watched as Nate dealt with getting some of the horses out into the enclosed paddock through the other doors at the rear of the barn. Jay pulled out his phone and took photos, or at least Nate assumed he was taking photos.

"Are they allowed out in the snow?" Jay asked.

"They're quarter horses, built hardy. They're not out for long and we manage the paddock."

Jay wanted to ask what that meant, but he didn't really need to know that at this point. He wanted numbers and names. "How many do you have?"

"Enough," he said. "Plus Juno, Lightning, Ricky, and Diablo, who are our horses."

"Juno is your horse, I remember, and Lightning is Gabe's."

"Ricky is Luke's."

"And Diablo?"

"Your horse for the time you're here."

"Even if I wanted a horse, which I kind of don't, you think it's a good idea to give me a horse with a name that means ‘devil'?" Jay stiffened and moved away from the wall.

"Part of your wages here," Nate answered. He ignored the whole Diablo-devil thing and gestured Jay over.

"I don't know anything about horses," Jay said. He stepped closer, placed his notebook and pen in his pocket. "And I'm honestly more than happy to forgo having a horse. I'll walk everywhere."

Nate shook his head in disbelief. "You do know that Crooked Tree is twenty-nine thousand acres with over sixty miles of trails?"

"Don't you have one of those four-wheel buggy things?"

"Not unless you brought one in your suitcase," Nate deadpanned. What did Jay expect? The ranch was running on empty, 4 wheelers were not on the to-buy list.

"Ha-freaking-ha." Jay moved closer and peered over the stall half-door.

Nate tapped his fingers on the door. "This here is Diablo. He's a paint quarter horse gelding. His registered name is Detail for Devil, but we like Diablo."

Diablo snorted and stepped forward, snuffling Nate's outstretched hand.

Jay sighed. "I don't suppose you have a horse called Angel, or Cutie, or Slowpoke, or something sweet."

That would have been funny, had it not been for the very real edge of fear in Jay's voice. Concerns rose again at how the hell they had managed to hire someone who had no idea how to ride a horse, let alone how to sell a ranch.

Nate couldn't help the irritation that slipped into his tone. "Have you ever actually ridden a horse?"

Jay gave a nervous chuckle. "Do carousels count?"

Why did Nate want to bang his head against the nearest wall? This city guy with his stumbling around in the dark and not knowing how to ride, was scratching at his last nerve. He'd seen worse, he'd taught worse, but this idiot was supposed to be working on the ranch and he couldn't ride. Nate didn't have time for this shit.

"What did you think you were going to be able to do for us?" he snapped.

Jay looked startled at his change in tone from irritable yet patient to plain old annoyed.

"What do you mean? You mean here as a job? I'm here to create a marketing plan for you?—"

"Do you even know what we do?"

Jay blinked up at him with confusion pasted on his smooth, pale face. "Isn't that what you're going to show me now?" he asked.

"You may be able to sell your overpriced drinks, or condoms, or washing powder, but this is real life." Nate shook his head. "Horses are a big part of what we do here?—"

"Constipation," Jay interrupted loudly.

Nate narrowed his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I've never really suffered from it, apart from one night after—never mind that. Look, I ran a whole marketing initiative for a company that manufactures meds for constipation. After implementation of the plan, their market share increased by 5 percent, and instead of laying people off, they recruited their own small marketing team to keep up the work."

"What does that have to do with horses?"

"I learn fast. I learned what the meds did, and I made a plan that supported their marketing. I can learn horses if I try hard enough. So get on with the showing and less of the disapproving."

Dumbstruck, Nate wasn't entirely sure what to say. "You do know who you're talking to, right?" He stepped right up into Jay's face as anger roiled inside him.

"Yep," Jay drawled, all trace of his East Coast tone gone. "You're the guy who needs my help and is a stubborn bastard who won't fill in forms."

Nate's mouth dropped open in shock. "I pay your salary."

"You hired me."

"Marcus hired you."

Jay crossed his arms over his chest, pressing his lips in a tight line. "You could always stop trying to provoke an argument and instead show me the damn horses."

"I could tell you to pack your bags and fuck off back to the city."

"Happy to leave." Jay raised his eyebrows. "Given I would earn more working in a McDonald's, I assume you have other applicants willing to move to the middle of nowhere for next to no money and a horse?"

Despite the anger that Nate suspected threatened to break Jay's even tone, Jay's smooth talking was irritating. At that single moment in time, Nate wanted to punch the man with his big words and his frustrating arguments.

"And a house," Nate pointed out.

"There is that. It's a nice house," Jay said with a tight smile.

"If we're doing this, then you need to listen to me," Nate ordered.

Jay indicated his notepad and pen. "Can I take notes?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. Come with me. This is Juno, she's fifteen hands and a quarter horse, same as Diablo. Watch and learn."

Jay followed him into Juno's stall, but his expression was fearful and he looked like he was being dragged into hell. Nate spent a short time fussing with Juno to settle his thoughts, and to give Jay a few moments to settle being this near to Juno. There was something about Jay that had him getting his back up. Part of it he knew had to be because he'd been put on the spot with that whole form-filling thing. He'd come across the situation before, but it had never been an issue he couldn't handle. The other part was because they hadn't pulled in anyone local. He needed to add in the fact he wasn't getting laid enough and Jay—gay, straight, or bi—was kind of nice to look at. A combination of slim and blond, with those brown eyes that had him recalling Mr. Austin, the art teacher who had been Nate's first crush at fifteen.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, he concentrated on what he had to tell Jay. "You have to groom your horse before you put a saddle on. Although maybe you don't know what a saddle is or what grooming means." Nate meant that as a veiled insult but regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth. He picked up the curry comb and waved it under Jay's nose. He continued before Jay could say anything. "This is a rubber curry comb; it massages the horse's muscles. This should be done before and after riding. Then you use a stiffer brush and brush the way the hair grows, not against it."

"Got it. Curry comb, stiffer brush, not against the hair."

"Watch me," Nate ordered. "With a flick of your wrist at the end of each brush, any dirt the rubber one brought to the surface is moved away."

"Flick," Jay repeated. Nate looked at him to see if he was taking it all seriously, because if he wasn't, Nate had words coiled inside ready to unleash. Jay seemed to be concentrating, though. "Will they kick at you?"

"I'd like to say no, but just be careful what you are doing when the horse can't see you."

"Doing what? Like standing behind them?"

"Always make sure they can see you. Then you check the hooves, like this." Nate demonstrated what needed to be done. "This is to make sure there aren't any rocks or caked-on dirt that could hurt the horse and cause damage."

"You do this every day to the horse?"

"Every new ride. The horse isn't some car you can abuse; these are living, breathing friends. Next is tack up your horse. Put the blanket on, covering the horse's withers—this bit here—completely."

"The ridge between the shoulder blades, that's the withers. Got it," Jay confirmed with a nod.

"Make sure the horse's hair is flat then put the saddle on." Juno moved a couple of steps and Nate wished he had thought to demonstrate this in the place he would normally be tacking her—outside in the corral behind the barn. "The girth comes next, that's the thing that goes around the horse to make sure the saddle stays on."

"Got it. How tight do you do it?"

"You'll learn what's best by touch. But you have to remember that when you put this on, you have to walk Diablo around a few steps and check it again. Juno here likes to inhale when you touch her so you have to make sure it's tight enough or not too tight. Then comes the mouthpiece. Put the reins over the head—you can do all this in the stall, but it's easier if you walk them out of the stall and into a corral using a halter."

"A halter. Okay. You didn't use one of those on Juno, though."

Nate chuckled. "Juno is used to me now and stands where I leave her. Diablo is the same."

"So, getting up there?" Jay thoughtfully examined the stirrup and touched it. Juno danced away a step and Jay backed off. "It's a hell of a long way up."

"Always mount from the left side, though I've known people who do it from the right after having had a stroke. But if you're right-handed, it's safer on the left."

"Why?"

"Most people are right-handed. In order to leave the right hand free for roping, opening gates, and anything else, the reins are held in the left hand. Okay?"

"Okay, but I still don't…"

Nate stifled his sigh. He'd explained this to his new riders before, why then was he cutting short the explanation?

He continued, this time with extra patience. "See, if a rider were to mount from the right, he'd have to switch the reins from the right hand to the left, momentarily losing solid control at the very time a horse is most likely to act up."

Jay nodded. "I get it."

"So, left foot in the stirrup and swing up and over. Anyway, you saw me saddle up Juno—let's see what you can do with Diablo."