Sheep Dogs (chapter 2)

Two

Beau

           Beau awoke at dawn like he always did. The fire had gone out in the night, and the sun filtered through the old window. Beau sat up, looking around for any sign of the other man, but he seemed to either be in his room still or likely outside taking care of things. Beau got the impression that the other man was a hard worker like himself and assumed the latter. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes and combing through his hair with his fingers, he pulled on his boots and stepped out onto the porch. He leaned up against the railing as he lit his morning cigarette, letting the smoke out with a sigh.  

  “Morinin’ sunshine.” Said a voice behind him. Beau hadn’t even seen him; he turned around so fast his neck sounded like marbles hitting a wood floor. “Whoa there, buddy, slow down before you hurt yourself. It's just me.”

  Beau sighed. Of course, he knew it was him, but he was startled, not expecting him to be behind him. Beau looked over the man; he hadn’t gotten a good look at him the night before. Now, he could see him in detail. The man had hair so dark it looked black, except in the sun, which made his hair glow the color of honey, and his eyes the color of whiskey. “Right, mornin’,” he slowly turned back over the railing. 

  “Your animals are fed.” 

  “Ya’ didn’t have to do that,” replied Beau.

  “No, but I did anyway.”

  “Thanks.”

       They were quiet again, both enjoying their cigarettes. They watched the sun rise and the morning mist disappear. 

  “Suppose I should get out of your hair now,” Beau said, breaking the peaceful silence. 

  “You said you lost your camp?” replied the man.

  “That's right,” Beau confirmed. “Storm probably destroyed it too. It’ll be hard to find, I think.” 

  “I could help you find it if you like.”

  “Only if it's not trouble to you.”

  “Not at all; we can leave the sheep in the pasture.”

  “Will they be alright there?” 

  “The dogs will keep ‘em safe.”

  “Well, if you insist.”

         The two men ate a small breakfast and saddled up their horses. They spoke little, but they seemed to have a silent understanding of each other. They were both estranged from society, each man taking a bit of comfort in the other's company. 

         They set off away from the cabin on horseback in search of Beau’s camp. After about twenty minutes or so, Beau spoke. “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

  “You didn’t.” Confirmed the other man. 

  “May I ask what it is?”

          There was a long pause from the other man, as if he was hesitant to reveal his identity. “Elias.” He finally said.

  “Elias, huh? You got a last name?”

There was another long pause. “Finch,” replied Elias. 

  “Like the bird?”

  “Yes.”

          It was once again quiet; the two men scaled the steep hillside on their horses and listened to the wind. Down in the valley, they could see herds of bison, peacefully grazing in the tall grass.  

          Beau was a man of few words unless you got him talking about something he took an interest in. he was fidgety and couldn’t hold still. With the lack of conversation between the two men, he filled the silence with a soft whistling of a tune. 

          The clouds cast dark shadows on the hill and cliffs, with patches of sunlight leaking through. After some time, Elias pointed down a small slope to what looked like white canvas. “That your tent?” he asked. 

           Beau followed Elias’s finger down the slope. “Yeah, that's mine,” he replied. 

           They rode down the hill to Beau’s camp. The place had been windblown by the storm; a pot lay face down in the makeshift fire pit, and empty bean cans had blown out of the potato sack he had been using as a trash can. “Shit,” Beau said as he dismounted his horse. He kicked at the canvas tarp that had once been his tent, now ripped to shreds. 

           Elias simply stood back and watched Beau fuss over his disheveled camp, arms crossed over his chest. “You know you ain’t supposed to do this, right?” he said finally. 

  “Yeah, I know, but it's the only work I got,” Beau replied. “My boss makes me come up here every summer, out of the designated camping areas, and tend to the flock, make sure they don't get eaten by the coyotes.”

          Elias nodded like he could understand having a difficult boss, although he had only ever worked for himself. “Don’t worry, I won't report ya to the rangers; I’ve done my fair share of illegal camping up here back before my Pa passed away,” Elias said. 

         Beau nodded. “Well, there's no fixin’ this tent. I’ll have to ride down into town to get another one.” He shook his head. “Damn it, Ralph is gonna have my head mounted on the wall.” 

  “That your boss?” Elias asked.

  “Yeah, he doesn’t take too kindly to me ruining the things he supplies me with.” Beau sighed. “Not to mention, I’d have to take the sheep down with me.”

  “I could watch over them until you get back if you like,” offered Elias. 

  “You’d do that for me?”

  “Us outsiders gotta stick together, right?”

  “Never said I was an outsider.”

  “Not out loud.”

         Beau was slightly hurt by the other man's words, though he would never admit it was true. He was an outsider, and it was becoming increasingly clear the more time he spent up in the mountains herding sheep instead of finding himself a wife. 

            Elias helps Beau clean up the disheveled camp, and they head back to Elias’s cabin. The sun was already more than halfway through the sky by the time they arrived at Beau’s camp, and it was after dark once they got back to the cabin. “You stayin’ here for another two nights?” asked Elias.

  “No, why?” replied Beau.

  “No? Buddy, it's a half-day journey down into town, and another back. You’ll want to stay here another night before going to find a place to camp with your sheep.” 

             Beau shrugged. Elias was right; he would be exhausted after going into town and dealing with his boss. Ralph was unpleasant to deal with on a good day, not to mention whenever Beau messed up. “You ain’t gotta do this for me, ya only just met me.”

  “I think we understand each other better than you think,” said Elias.

  “Well, I appreciate it, but, buddy, you don’t owe me nothin’,” replied Beau.

  “Exactly, I ain’t doin’ this for charity, Beau; I’m doin’ this out of the kindness of my heart. Because I-” Elias paused, like he was measuring the words that came next. “Because I don’t exactly lead a life with many friends.” 

         Beau was quiet; he knew how that felt. Staying up in the Rocky Mountains alone with a thousand sheep every summer wasn’t exactly a social job, and he'd be lying if he said he hadn’t enjoyed spending the day with another human being for the first time in weeks. Beau swallowed. “Why not?” he said. “Why stay up here in this cabin? Why not sell your sheep and cabin and go find a nice girl to marry?”

         Elias looked forward to the worn path they were now on, back to the cabin. His eyes were devoid of emotion. “I ain’t real good with women,” he says finally. 

  “And why not?” Beau replies.

  “I can't seem to pay attention to ‘em. They talk to me, and I talk to them, but I just don't see what the other guys are talking about.”

        Beau nods, again understanding what Elias was saying. Beau had his own troubles with women himself, which was why he was up here every summer herding sheep. “I can’t seem to keep a girl; it's my fault, really. I get bored of ‘em, then I go off with some other girl and end up hurtin’ them both.”

            Elias doesn’t respond, doesn’t show emotion, barely even blinks, just stares straight ahead. The silence isn’t the same peaceful quiet as before. This is a tense silence that makes Beau’s stomach twist in a knot. Is Elias disappointed that he does that to women? Beau wouldn’t blame him if he was; hell, Beau was damn ashamed of himself. Still, the thought that Elias could be thinking negatively of Beau made him want to leave and never come back. Why had he told Elias that bit about himself? He didn’t know. He’d never told anyone else that before, not even his fishing buddies, whom he saw once a year. So why had he told this random man he’d met just twenty-four hours ago?

             Finally, the two men reached the cabin and put the horses in the stable. Beau watched Elias dismount, his wide frame casting a large silhouette framed by the open barn door. Beau’s heart feels like it's being crushed by a stampede. Elias is quiet but never this quiet, and that worried Beau. he usually didn’t care what other men thought of him, but for some reason, he cared very deeply about what Elias thought of him. 

         When Elias speaks, there is still little to no emotion in his voice. “You feed the horses,” he says, still not looking at Beau. “I’ll go make us supper.”