9. Galen

Chapter 9

Galen

I n the morning, a tad bleary-eyed, Galen shuffled through showering and shaving, reveling in the hot water, then got dressed, and trotted to the mess tent.

There, he found himself at the end of the line for the buffet. He wasn't worried about the food running out, just about having enough time to eat before he needed to round up his team for work. Put on his boss-man hat. Be in charge.

He had the training, sure, and he could do the job. But it'd just be easier if his team would all up and decide they wanted to do their parole elsewhere. Or maybe it was too late in the game for such doubts.

Then, just as he got up to the buffet and grabbed a tray, a plate, and some cutlery, he saw Bede sitting at the end of one of the long tables.

To Bede's right was Kell, chatting like mad to a silent and watchful Marston, who was sitting on the other side of Kell. Bede and Marston were two bookends, protecting Kell, like he was in any danger at all. Which he was not.

It was as if Bede was by himself in a sea of people. A very small sea, to be sure, but he was all alone. Eating a tidy pile of pancakes, sipping on black coffee, spearing his sausage patty with a severely aimed fork.

Both Toby and Owen, trays in hand, went to the table where Bede was and sat across from him. Bede's brow lowered, as if he'd suddenly developed a severe headache.

Galen might as well get it over and join his team. And no, he wasn't saving Bede from having to converse with the less-than-dynamic duo. It wasn't about Bede at all. Galen was just doing his job, so as soon as he got his breakfast, he went and sat down across from Bede, too.

A good night's sleep had done Bede a world of good, which must be what was keeping Galen focused on him. That fact and not the sleekness of the skin along Bede's neck where it disappeared beneath the trim collar of his snap-button shirt. Or where he'd rolled up his sleeves yet again, and was just now balancing his elbow on the table as he took a sip of black coffee.

Bede looked at Galen, not smiling, eyes half lidded as if assaying Galen's presence, but he didn't want to be seen doing it.

Then, after a pause, Bede asked, "What's on the agenda today, boss?"

Boss . This was the name Galen had heard all the ex-cons called their team leads, in spite of those same team leads asking Please, please, just call me by my name .

Something had been engrained in the ex-cons' heads, so they continued doing it. Galen was just going to have to put up with it or cause a severe and probably unsuccessful fuss.

"First," said Galen, after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of very good pancake. "We're going to do some recon and tag all the knapweed in the area."

"Knapweed?" asked Toby.

"Recon?" asked Owen.

"Knapweed is an invasive plant," said Galen, taking a sip of his coffee, pretending he didn't hear Bede snicker into his pancakes, because he wanted to encourage questions from his team. And, also, he didn't know what to do with the fact that Bede's snicker made him want to smile. "It's poisonous to other plants and creates barren areas where only knapweed grows."

The members of his team looked at him like he was speaking Urdu. Except for Bede, who looked mildly interested.

"Recon is short for reconnaissance," he added. "It means we're going to take a look around and see what we can see." He took a look at Toby and Owen's faces and sensed a little disappointment there.

"We'll work with the horses more, once that's done," Galen said. "Care, feeding, riding lessons, all of it."

He took a sip of his coffee and let this sink in.

"You'll need to have real cowboy boots and hats for the riding lessons, but we'll be getting those later this week," said Galen.

Toby and Owen did not seem enticed by this at all, but Bede chuckled and asked, "More boots? I'm going to need a boot rack at this rate."

Galen snorted in spite of himself at the image of fancy downtown shoes and boots in racks inside each tent. Why Bede made him laugh was still a mystery, but the last thing he needed to do was to encourage it.

"Leland wants every man to have the tools he needs," Galen said, studiously keeping his attention on his meal, desperately focusing on that and not the fact that Bede's bright smile, that flash in Bede's eyes, made him feel buoyed up, like everything was going to turn out just fine.

When breakfast was over, Galen assembled his team in front of the supply hut. It was a hot morning and looking to get hotter. There was no wind, and there were no clouds hovering over the treetops.

He took up a folded paper map and pink highlighter and then held out a laminated picture of purple-shaded knapweed. This, too, made him feel good about how it was going. From his years of helping his dad on the family farm, he knew plants, that was for sure.

"It looks like thistle, right? Well, it's not. Everywhere you see this plant, put a yellow flag in the ground. I'll be marking the map to show where the largest swathes of knapweed are."

"Why don't we just douse it with kerosene and burn it?" Toby even raised his hand while asking this, like he was in school. So rather than answer Toby like the latent arsonist he was, and ignoring Owen's snort of dismissal, Galen did his best to turn it into a teachable moment. Like his dad would have done.

"That's what some people do," Galen said. "But that leaves fumes and ash. The BLM uses chemicals sometimes, but we don't want that in the valley. We're going to dig each and every plant up."

"Every plant?" squawked Toby, then Bede asked, "What's BLM?"

"BLM is the Bureau of Land Management," said Galen. "They oversee the use of all the public lands for recreation and grazing."

Galen gave each member of his team a small canvas sack of yellow flags on thin metal stems, and watched as they slung the strap of the sack over to the opposite side of their necks. Like they'd done this before, been on some kind of job duty. Maybe picking up trash.

When he handed Bede his sack of flags, Bede took it and, as he slung the strap around his neck, he said, straight-faced, "This looks like it's going to be hard. Maybe I should have stayed in prison."

Feeling a tickle of a laugh in the back of his throat, Galen concentrated on his map.

Unfolding it, he showed his team where they'd be looking, along the lake, on the path up to the ridge, the dirt road on the other side of the team lead tents. And, if they had time, on the other side of Horse Creek.

"Beyond Horse Creek, we'll be on a trail that leads to Aungaupi Valley, but we won't be going all that way, as it's a day's ride by horseback. We'll start on this side of Half Moon Lake in a group, and then spread out. It'll take us a few days to mark all the locations. Any questions?"

Every man on his team shook his head, and then they headed out as a group, going along the dirt road beyond the team lead tents first, planting flags as they went.

At first it was easy, going along the slope of the path toward the lake, where the sun sparkled on the water. Bend and stick, bend and stick.

The knapweed was thicker along one side of the dirt road, past the team leads' tents. Galen noticed that Toby and Owen were staying in the shade, along the side of the road with less knapweed. All the while, in the broad sunshine, mere feet from Galen's side, Bede was head-down, deep into the task.

Without a breeze, they were all sweating, but Bede seemed to do it more artfully, his dark hair slick like ink, sleeves rolled up, graceful patches beneath his arms, a long line sticking his shirt to his back.

Galen didn't know when the last time he thought a man sweating in the sun was a greedy eyeful. But perhaps he shouldn't be thinking about that right now.

The heat continued to rise, and only Galen was wearing his straw cowboy hat to keep off the sun. Asking the men to do more without sun protection would have been cruel, even if he felt a little hardship might do the ex-cons some good.

But perhaps he should stop thinking that way. After all, Leland had started the program, and believed in it, so there must be some good in it.

Maybe they needed those hats sooner rather than later.

Right before lunch and after they found and marked all the knapweed along the road, he took them to the mess tent for cool drinks.

"I had no idea how hot it would get," he said as his little team gasped as they gulped down cold soda and iced tea.

"I'm going to change it up," he said. "We'll clean up, have some lunch, then go up to the ranch for hats and boots this afternoon, rather than later in the week."

This seemed to brighten all of their spirits considerably, and while it would have been nice to have a little rain, the day was a beautiful blue-sky day, and the air was sweet. Making him think it would be a good summer, after all.

Galen grabbed a clean shirt and his shower things and headed to the showers. There, he found Toby and Owen milling about in front of the mirrors, shaving, like they were going to a dance.

And as for Bede, he was still in the shower. Steam roiled over the top of the shower curtain, and he seemed to be humming to himself.

Not thinking about Bede naked in the shower, not thinking about what tattoos would look like with bubbles of soap sliding across them, Galen took the quickest shower in his life, got dressed and headed to the mess tent.

There, he consulted with Gabe as to the change of plans, and called Maddy on the landline that sat on the bookshelf in the corner to tell her they were on their way to the ranch's store.

Then, finally, he grabbed some chili and cornbread, two of his favorite things. A nice green salad. Cinnamon rolls for dessert. A great cup of coffee to finish it off.

Then he sat down with a sigh and began to eat amidst the friendly chatter all around him.

Sitting across from him, Kell and Bede seemed deep in conversation, with Marston looking on like he was taking notes on how to behave like a human.

"Hey," said Kell, looking up, dragging Galen from his ruminations over his coffee. "Bede doesn't want to ask you about the books."

" Kell ," said Bede, quite sternly, the sudden almost-threat in his voice drawing the attention of every man at the table.

"But you should ask him," said Kell, raising his shoulders, palms out. He wasn't at all afraid of Bede, that was plain to see. "That's what you do when you need something. It isn't like in prison."

Bede looked at Galen, studying him, and Galen's curiosity was raised beyond his ability to resist. None of his team had asked him for anything yet, but, then, it was only Tuesday.

"What do you need?" he asked, his curiosity making his voice come out a little sharp.

"Nothing," said Bede, shoveling cornbread into his mouth.

"He needs books," said Kell.

Galen looked over at the tiny library and office area that Kell was pointing at. There was a whole shelf of books.

"We have books," he said.

"He's read them all already," said Kell brightly.

"All of them?" asked Galen. He wasn't much of a reader, at least not for pleasure. " All ? And when? You just got here."

"In prison," said Bede with a twitch of a shrug. "I've read all those books, except for the ones on birds, but I'm not much of a bird man."

Galen wasn't much of a bird man either, so he could sympathize. Royce, one of the other team leads, was a big, big bird man, and had donated around twenty books to the collection. Threatened to donate more until Gabe had told him that maybe they had enough books about birds on hand.

"There's paper and pen," said Galen, jerking his chin in the direction of the shelf. "Make a list. I can order any book you want. Any number of books," he added to make it clear that the sky was pretty much the limit. Then, because he couldn't help himself, he asked, "What kind of books do you like to read?"

Bede's response was a dark-eyed gaze, as though Bede was determining whether or not Galen was the enemy. The kind of smoldering gaze that Galen imagined he'd see if he'd ever encountered Bede in a dark alley mid-way through a drug deal.

Galen wasn't Bede's enemy, even if he was having recurring yet unproductive thoughts that the ex-cons in the valley were getting off easy. Except Bede had certainly worked hard that morning, as hard as Galen had.

In addition to that, he was impressed that Bede wanted something to read.

But looking at Bede, sitting very still and watchful, made it easy to imagine what five years behind bars must have been like. What being on guard all the time must have felt like. Looking every gift horse in the mouth. Not to mention all those TV shows and movies that made being in prison like staying in Motel Rape Central.

While in prison, Bede had looked after Kell. Maybe he'd done the same for others, too. He didn't have to, but he had. And now he didn't have anything to read.

Galen felt bad for him and if that wasn't a laughable topsy-turvy idea, he didn't know what it was.

Maybe he needed to shift his mind and keep up with what was really going on. Maybe those five years in prison had affected Bede to the point where he might, just might, turn out to be a decent guy.

"I'm not much of a reader," said Galen to get the conversation going again. "My dad was. He had tons of books on farming, but I donated most of those to the local library. So if there are books you need, really. Just make a list."

"Even porn?" asked Toby from the next table.

"No, no porn," said Galen, turning to look at Toby. "Be reasonable, okay?" He shifted his attention back to Bede. "So? What kind of books do you like?"

Bede must have made up his mind to answer in spite of himself, because he took a very deep breath.

"John Grisham," he said, saying the author's name as if he'd read Grisham's entire catalog and knew each book by heart. "Alistair MacLean. Pat Conroy. Stephen King, if I'm in a mood. Barbara Kingsolver, though I've only read one or two of her books."

Galen could only blink. Bede did not look like a reading kind of guy. But maybe being stuck behind bars had made him reach out for some kind of distraction, and books had been closest to hand. And maybe reading them had changed him.

"Make your list," said Galen with a nod. "I'll order those books as soon as you let me know what you want."

Bede still seemed dubious, so Galen concentrated on finishing his lunch, and then bussing his place. Afterward, he got a paper and pen from the little office in the mess tent, and gave those to Bede. Then, as Bede bent over the small desk to write his list, Galen went to Gabe and told him about the book order, then got the password to their joint Amazon account.

"You did good, there," said Gabe, pulling him out to the wooden platform in front of the mess tent.

"I did?" Galen asked, surprised by the compliment as he folded the sticky note with the password on it and stuck it in his front jean pocket. He paused, then said, low, "You know, I didn't want to be a team lead in Leland's program."

"I know," said Gabe, serious, head down, which told Galen this was a private conversation meant only for his ears. "Look, it can be hard to imagine that an ex-con has anything good to offer the world."

Gabe paused, his eyes on Galen, as if he wanted to make sure that Galen was listening.

"And maybe they don't think they have anything to offer, but we're going to give them a chance. You gotta shift the way you look at things, is all. Just for a while." He patted Galen on the shoulder and added, "The keys are in the truck. Did you let Maddy know you're coming early?"

"Yes, sure did," said Galen. Feeling as though he might actually get on top of things, he gathered his team.

"Who's ready to try on hats and boots?" he asked, spreading his hands wide, gesturing to the nearest of the two silver trucks that could be seen beyond the trees.

"Shotgun!" shouted Toby.

Knowing he secretly wished that Bede had shouted shotgun, Galen resigned himself to Toby sitting in the passenger seat next to him. Owen sat behind Toby, and Bede sat in back of Galen.