Rip - Trust (Completed)

It could be worse

Rip stayed in bed as long as he could the next day. No one came to get him. He heard the animals outside. He heard men calling each other, working the ranch. The sun shone through the window. He got out of bed around half past eleven. He couldn't remember ever having done that before. He got dressed and went downstairs. 

There was no one around and he felt like an intruder. Not sure what to do next he stepped outside onto the porch into the sunshine.

"Ah, there you are" he heard the man say. Mr Dutton sat in an armchair to his right holding a cup of black coffee, "Good morning!" 

"Good morning, Mr Dutton!" he replied.

"I am your uncle", the man said.

"I know", the boy answered. 

"Sit here, I get Bernard to fetch you some breakfast, will you eat porridge? Or bread?"

"Porridge, thank you," Rip replied. He was embarrassed at the man's kindness after the way he had spoken to him yesterday evening. He still didn't want him to treat him like a child though, let alone have him pretend he was his son.

Mr Dutton came back and finished his coffee standing up, leaning against the railing of the porch. "Bernard will bring your breakfast out when it's ready. Find me at the enclosure over there when you are finished," he said. He pointed at a small arena where Jacob was working with a horse and a few men stood around watching.

The boy nodded and then quickly added "yes sir!" Mr Dutton smiled to himself as he left.

The porridge was put in front of him without a word. He said thank you but got no response. The man they called Bernard came back and put a cup of hot chocolate in front of him as well and disappeared again. 

When he had finished, Rip took the dishes and searched for the kitchen. It was behind the study on the right. Bernard stood at the counter chopping vegetables.

"Where will I put these?" Rip asked. Bernard swung around and pointed at the sink with his big knife. The boy started to run the water over the dishes, intend to wash them.

"He said you might try to delay and told me to make sure you'd go find him right away. I do those," Bernard said.

The boy pursed his lips and left, making his way across the yard to the enclosure where his uncle stood with some men.

They hung over the wooden enclosure watching Jacob who was trying to get the horse to go in circles around him. He tried to lead him with a whip, but the horse was nervous and kept going back and forth instead, changing direction when this was not wanted. 

"Five bucks he'll be riding him by Sunday." said one of the men. "Not a chance, he's a bad one." another said. "I'll take that bet," yet another man replied.

"There is no such thing as a bad one, according to Jacob, there is only bad people who ruin horses. He believes they all can be fixed," Rip heard his uncle say. "Do you believe him, John?" the old man beside him asked. "No, he just hasn't met one bad enough yet," Mr Dutton laughed, and then added "this might be the one though. He's been working with him for weeks now and I can't see much of a change, can you? He sees it differently of course." 

Rip stood behind them not sure what to do next. Mr Dutton suddenly turned around to him. "Don't sneak up on people like that Rip!" he said sharply, then added more softly "you startled me!" Rip looked down at his feet and mumbled a "sorry, sir." 

"Frank, this is Rip," introducing the boy to the old man beside him. The boy looked up and saw the old man smile kindly at him.

"I knew your grandma; she was a real lady," he said. Rip had to smile and let his smile turn into a grin. He never heard anyone describe his nana as a lady, and she herself would probably have told the old man where to go with himself. She hated fancy people. She was funny that way.

"I don't think she would have approved you calling her that," the boy said, "I reckon she would have been downright insulted," he laughed a little.

The old guy laughed as well and added, "she probably would have but that doesn't make it untrue. She was the prettiest woman in this valley by far and made the best pies in all of Montana."

Rip nodded more thoughtfully now, he had been fond of his nana, who died when he was nine, shortly after his dad had come back out from prison and said, "she just swore a lot, was fond of the liquor, and very handy with the wooden spoon!"

The old man smiled at him. "I sure was fond of your grandma!" "Thanks Mister, so was I!" Rip said.

"The name is Frank, son. Don't call me anything else," Frank said. He smiled at Rip, who sighed and had to glance at Mr Dutton, still feeling embarrassed about the previous night.

Mr Dutton did not bother introducing him to the other men. There was a much younger man, who reminded him of his little brother, the way he stood there between the older men trying to fit in, with his hands in his jacket pockets and pulling his shoulders backwards. Just like Nicky used to do in the school yard when he stood between him and his friends. He reckoned he was not that much older than him.

"Come on, let's walk," Mr Dutton said, "I'll show you around".

It took at least two hours for Mr Dutton to show him the whole place. They walked down to the river where they had a little cottage for guests. He showed him the barns where the calving cows were kept in winter. The machinery yard with the combine harvester and tractors. The stables for the horses and the tack room. The bunk house where the ranch hands lived. Frank's little block house. The hay shed and feed store that was as big as the ranch house itself. The famous woodshed of course, where the paddle was sharing a hook with an ominous looking razor strop over the wood bench, as promised. 

They walked up a hill from where they could oversee the whole operation, and Mr Dutton showed the boy proudly all that was his. From here in the distance, he could faintly make out their little farm, down at the river just before it wound up into town. Seeing it from up here he started to feel his legs go soft from under him and he had to sit down. He hung his head between his legs for a while feeling very lonely. 

Mr Dutton sat down beside him. They were sitting quietly for a good while. Eventually his uncle said, "You know Rip. You will be okay. I promise. It will be okay!"

Rip lifted his head and glanced over at the old man and saw that he was not looking at him but had been staring in the direction of the little cottage in the distance. He knew it was meant to reassure him, he was trying to be kind, but there were the ants in his belly again, so he said nothing.

They climbed back down again and had a late lunch with Jacob and Robert. He was to help Jacob and Frank for the rest of the afternoon. He was told Jacob was in charge of everything to do with the horses, while Robert was responsible for the cattle. They cleaned the stables, fed and tended to horses. He liked that kind of work and it lifted his spirit a little. He always had liked the idea of horses. On their own farm they had milking cows mainly, some pigs but no horses. He always had loved the idea of being able to ride. 

Jacob told him that he was a horse trainer and that sometimes he took on other people's difficult horses, as a last resort so that they don't end up in the slaughterhouse. Jacob told him he wished he could fix the owners instead and laughed.

They had dinner and after that they just sat on the porch watching the sun go down. The men were talking about work and business, and the boy was listening. He went to bed early and actually slept for most of the night. Only waking briefly when Robert came in and went to his bedroom, and later when he heard him use the toilet upstairs. He managed to fall back asleep both times which was unusual for him. 

He woke up with the sun warming his face, thinking that maybe this wasn't going to be so bad. It could be worse.