A Lasso is Not a Dating Tool - Part 3
Fall had come to Morgan Ranch and the leaves started to change, with winter coming up Jeff had mentioned to some of the cowpunchers about getting some more mustangs before the weather turned.
“Hey Jesse, we’re going to head up to the mountains this weekend to see if we can find some more mustangs. Interested in coming with us?” Bill, one of the more senior cowpunchers, asked him one evening over supper. “We’ve seen your work with last year’s mustangs and thought you’d like to come, plus that big gelding of yours might be able to give us a sense where they’re hiding.”
“I just hope that he doesn’t try to fight any stallions we may come across. He might be gelded now but he’s still got years of behavior that I may not be able to control,” Jensen said. He was willing to try it and hoped that Rusty would behave when they got near another herd of mustangs.
Elsewhere in the country hundreds of thousands of mustangs had been rounded up and killed but this far west not a lot of people were willing to brave the weather and country to round them up so several herds still roamed the mountains. Jeff had decided to keep several of the young male foals that were born during the year to see if any of them would grow into a nice stallion that he could breed with the tamed mares on the ranch.
“We’ll be gone for about two days, so make sure you pack enough. Mark will be bringing along a pack burro with oats for the horses and cooking supplies, if there’s anything you want to add see Mark.”
“As long as I’ve got a bedroll to sleep in at night and food in my belly I won’t need much else.” Jensen replied. “I’m guessing that where we’re going is about a day’s ride away?”
Bill nodded. “Just under, there’s a small set of yards about half way there that we usually keep the herd in overnight. Don’t let your guard down, it will be a tough few days.”
Jensen chuckled softly. “Tough is walking for weeks eating nothing but old jerky, berries and drinking from small creeks.”
Bill smiled. He had forgotten that Jensen was found near dead almost a year ago. “Well you should be fine.” He winked, and left Jensen to finish the chore that he was doing, not that digging up what remained of Anita’s summer vegetable patch was an overly hard chore.
Anita had wanted to sow some winter vegetable seeds but hadn’t found the time; she was still jarring what was left of the summer vegetables. Jensen had said that he would do it for her, as there was a break in other work on the ranch, and, after turning the soil, he went and got some composted manure from the pile outside the livery and worked it into the soil to give the plants the best start they could have. While he did this simple chore, he remembered decades ago when he use to help his mother with her vegetable patch. Although they regularly went to town, his mother had insisted on growing her own. Beautiful juicy apples from the orchard, hot pumpkin pie from homegrown pumpkins, and corn straight from the plant were a few of the favorite things that he loved about his mother’s garden. It seemed liked a lifetime ago. After he completed working the manure into the soil he leveled it out and went to the homestead to let Anita know. He kicked his boots off on the porch, knowing that he’d get chased out with a broom if he walked dirt and manure into the kitchen.
“Señor Jesse,” Anita said, seeing Jensen at the door. “Got the garden done already?”
Jensen nodded. “Don’t wear your best shoes out there. I added a lot of manure to the soil.”
“I was wondering what that smell was,” Anita joked, gently pushing Jensen’s shoulder. “I just brewed some coffee, join me?”
“I’d love to.” Jensen sat down at the table as Anita poured coffee into the two ceramic mugs she had placed on the table. She then sat down on the bench on the opposite side of the table.
“I hear you’re going back to the mountains next week.”
Jensen nodded. “I told Bill I’d go with them to round up mustangs.”
“I have never asked this, but, when you’re up there, could you see if there are any pale mares or fillies? I had a grey mare when I was younger and she was the best horse I’ve ever had. She died many years ago now and I’d love a new horse to call my own.” Anita leant forward and spoke softly. “I didn’t like how those bronc busters use to treat the horses, but you’ve got a different way, and you treat the horses like the beautiful creatures they are.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Jensen said, reaching across the table to take one of Anita’s hands in his. “I can’t promise you a grey but I’ll try my best to make sure we bring home a few paler mares.”
Anita smiled, and brushed away a forming tear. While the cowboys at Morgan Ranch were nice, Jesse was nothing like them.
Early on Saturday morning, just before sunrise, Jensen and nine other men saddled their horses and started riding north. Mark and Joey followed behind, the unofficial eleventh and twelfth men leading pack burros, and agreed to meet them at the wooden yards where they would keep any wild horses they had rounded up before taking them back to the ranch. It took the best part of the day to ride to the yards, and they decided that, in the morning, they would split into two groups of five, and head out to the areas where the mustangs had been seen. Jensen had brought his tamed mustang, Rusty, along. Rusty had once lived in these areas and could probably smell where the other horses had been, Jensen was hoping that the horse’s memories of the area didn’t cause him to become unmanageable.
At dawn, the ten men mounted their steeds and broke off into the two groups, one going west and the other going east. With water skins filled and jerky to chew on, they rode away from the camp. It took several hours of riding before they saw a small group of horses drinking down at a stream that ran along the bottom of the valley. In whispered tones they worked out a plan on how to drive the seven head along the streambed. They knew that it would be a challenge getting them over the two ridges and the many miles that lay between them and the yards. The plan was for two of them to stay at the back of the herd and keep them moving while the others flanked the sides to stop any horses from breaking off. They knew that it would be easier said than done; wild animals never behaved like their domesticated cousins.
They stayed downwind, to ensure that the horses couldn’t smell them, and kept quiet. As they got closer, they could see that this group of horses was different from the usual herds they came across. There was no head stallion, and they looked to be quite young. When the mustangs noticed the humans, they took off, and Jensen kicked Rusty into a gallop to go after them. He wasn’t going to lose this lot! Rusty snorted as they galloped alongside the small wild herd, and the presence of a large horse seemed to calm the group, as if they knew that this horse was once like them. With a little help, and quite a bit of luck, the men drove the group to the yards without losing one of them. Their own horses were covered in sweat and were short of breath, but the men were happy with their effort. Mark and Joey had remained at the camp, and when they heard the sounds of hooves in the distance, they opened the gates and watched the young horses run straight into the yards. They whinnied and snorted at their capture but, once they noticed tamed horses on the other side, they calmed slightly. The men sat around the fire waiting for the other group which could be hours away yet.
When the other five men returned with the larger, main herd, they secured the gates and kept their own horses right next to the yards. “Not a bad group,” Bill said that evening, as the men sat around the campfire. “From what I know of mustangs I believe the group that you rounded up originally came from the main group, but the stallion drove them away when they go too old.”
“The stallion leading this lot looks to be past his prime, he really dropped back once they started galloping. I’m surprised that he hasn’t lost his herd already,” Robby, one of the cowpunchers, said.
“He’s probably the only stallion in these parts. So many of them are getting killed that there are few herds left,” Bill added. Bill had learnt all he knew about mustangs as a young man, from an old Indian man who lived on the outskirts of his home town.
“Well the fillies and colts will make great work horses and breeders,” Mark said, putting another pot of coffee onto the fire.
“I’m laying claim to the palomino filly,” Jensen said, chewing on a piece of venison jerky.
“Better check with the boss before you go laying claim any of the fillies,” one of the other cowpunchers said.
Jensen chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll check with the boss.”
The men continued chatting while drinking their coffee. Supper wouldn’t be fancy tonight, just salt pork and beans, but it was enough to fill them up. While eating, they talked about the way they would drive the mustangs back to the ranch. They knew that the wild horses would more than likely gallop most of the way, and most knew that their horses couldn’t keep up, so they decided that five men would gallop along with the horses while the others kept behind at a slower pace. If they saw one of the faster horses slow down they’d take over their place and continue this swap until they got to the ranch.
With stomachs full, they turned in early, knowing that they’d be up at dawn to get the horses back. Waking up at dawn, they saddled their horses and worked out who would be moving with the mustangs first up. Jensen had a feeling that the two riding calmed mustangs would be riding with the herd most of the way. Jensen had seen Rusty’s stamina for long periods of high speed riding.
“Try to stay within sight, if your horse is starting to slow down wave your hand in the air and someone will come take your place,” Bill said as everyone mounted their horses, ready for the mustangs to be let out.
Jensen smirked and patted Rusty on the neck. “Ready for this boy?” he said softly, and got a snort back in response. Mark and Joey opened the gate to the yards and the mustangs started galloping. Jensen didn’t even need to nudge Rusty as the large chestnut galloped along the side of the herd to stop them from breaking off. After a few minutes, he glanced around and saw the other men had created a horseshoe shape around the herd and were keeping them as close together as possible, but he knew that it would be hours in the saddle until they saw any signs of the ranch. As time wore on, the old stallion started to drop back, and the rest of the herd had slowed as well, but Rusty and the other gelding he had broken in earlier in the year had managed to keep up. Although they were starting to sweat, the two horses kept pace alongside the herd.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the ranch came into view, and by the time they got the mustangs into the yard, both men and horses were close to exhaustion. They dismounted on shaky legs and let their horses settle, once their legs stopped shaking the men had to water and groom their own horses due to the fact that Mark who usually did this was still riding back from the mountains.
“Looks like a nice group of mustangs,” Jeff said, having come outside when he heard the thundering hooves.
“We found two groups. One had the stallion and the other group seems to be young colts that the head stallion drove out,” Bill said to Jeff.
“Let them rest for the night and we’ll have a good look in the morning.”
Bill nodded and went off to the cookhouse with most of the other men who had gone on the roundup. Jensen stayed behind, because he wanted to ask Jeff something in private.
“Did you find something for Anita?” Jeff asked before Jensen was able to say anything.
“There’s a palomino filly I thought might be perfect for her.”
“She told me while you were away that she had asked if you could keep an eye out for a horse for her. I agreed, so if she likes the palomino, consider it hers.”
Jensen smiled. “I’ll let you pass on the good news. Right now I need to sit down and rest, I’ve sat in a saddle since dawn and everything hurts.”
Jeff chuckled. “Come on inside, Jared will be happy to see you’re back,” he said with a wink.
It had been a week since Luther was fired from Morgan Ranch and he was still stewing. He had worked there for nearly two years but since Jesse had arrived, he had seen a big change. He didn’t like the man, and hated how the bosses put so much faith into this drifter, and Luther abhorred how they had promoted him above the others who had worked here for years.
He had ridden home from town where he had spent most of the night drinking at the saloon and was more than a little drunk when he returned back to ranch. He was walking his horse back into the livery when he saw Jesse in the pen with that large chestnut gelding. “Well if it isn’t that boot-lickin’ nancy!” He spat. Jesse didn’t reply so Luther walked over to the edge of the pen. “You stupid or just deaf?”
“Go to bed Luther, you’re drunk.” Jesse gave his horse a pat on the neck and walked out through the pen’s gate.
“I’m not drunk, you just hate hearin’ the truth. You’re nothin’ but a waddy who strolls in here thinking he’s better than the rest of us.” Luther turned around as Jesse walked past him and pushed the other man’s shoulder violently.
“I’m not going to fight you,” Jesse said.
“C’mon, ya nothin’ but yella.”
Jesse shook his head and started to walk away, but Luther was riled up and punched the other man in the back, which caused Jesse to fall the ground since he wasn’t ready for it. “Get up and fight me!” Luther yelled.
“I won’t fight you Luther,” Jesse said as he got to his feet. Jesse turned around, just as Luther punched him again, this time across the jaw.
What Luther didn’t know was that his yells drew the attention of several people, including Jeff and Jared who came to investigate just as he punched Jesse in the face again.
“Luther!” Jeff shouted.
Luther looked over at his bosses standing at the front of the livery. “Boss… I can explain!”
“You just can’t help yourself, can you!?”
Jared walked over to where Jesse was standing and helped the other man out of the livery so Jeff could talk to Luther.
Jeff didn’t accept any excuses, and, despite Luther’s spluttering, Jeff told Luther he had until morning to get out, and that he should never think of coming back.
After Morgan told him to ride away, Luther rode east, hoping to find somewhere else to work.
It was a few weeks later, when Luther walked into a town in eastern Texas and saw something that might help him get some payback. In store windows there were the usual ‘Wanted’ posters for outlaws but sometimes there were other posters that showed faces of people who were missing. It was one of these that caught his attention. The face in the poster looked a lot like Jesse but quite a few years younger. Though the name was different, he was pretty sure this ‘Jensen Ackles’ and Jesse were one and the same. Luther went to the post office and used some of his last pay to send a telegram to Mr. Alan Ackles, letting him know that a man matching the description on the poster was living at Morgan Ranch just out of Plateau, Texas. He made sure to include his own details so the reward could be sent to him. The next day a telegram was waiting. Mr. Ackles thanked him and promised the reward would be sent if it was indeed his son. Little did Luther realize that his reward would never come.
Jared had gone into town for the mail and to pick up some items from the general store for Anita. He was packing the items into a saddlebag when he overheard an older, very well-dressed gentleman asking the storekeeper for directions to Morgan Ranch.
“I know the way, can I help you?” he said.
“I was told that my son who has been missing for the past ten years is working at that ranch,” the gentleman said, with a slight Louisianan drawl.
Hearing this, Jared was a bit worried. This had to be who Jensen had spent the past decade running from. “What is your son’s name, Sir, maybe I know him.”
“Jensen Ackles, but who knows what name he’s being living under.”
Jared didn’t let his shock show but his heart started racing. “Haven’t heard of him.”
“The man who contacted me was pretty sure he was there.”
“Do you know who that was? Some of the men in this area would swear they saw the President after a few drinks.”
“Luther Brown.”
Jared knew that Luther had done this to get back at them for firing him. “That man was nothing but a drunkard and liar, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t recognize his own mother.”
“I’d still like to see for myself.”
“Okay, I’ll take you out there, but don’t get your hopes up.”
Jared walked out of the store with Jensen’s father behind him. Jared got onto his horse and waited as the man got onto a horse tied up outside the store. He had no real way of letting Jensen knew about what was coming, but Jared hoped that he was still out somewhere on the ranch, and not around the homestead. Jared led the way out of town. Thankfully Alan was happy to just ride along in a walk. The ride was silent and, as they rode past the start of the Morgan ranch land, his heart started beating faster.
“It’s only half a mile or so to the homestead. I’ll introduce you to Jeff Morgan,” Jared said as they got closer, and he wondered what he would say to Jeff. Once they arrived, Jared dismounted and tied his horse to the rail of the porch. “I’ll just go get the boss.”
Jared walked into the house, and found his uncle in the study. “Jeff, there’s a man outside looking for his son. Apparently Luther contacted him saying that he was working here. He’s looking for Jesse.” He took a breath. “Please just tell him there’s no one here matching that description.”
Jeff looked at Jared. “You really care about him, don’t you?”
“I do,” Jared admitted. “He kind of told me he’s been running for years and I think it’s because of his father.”
Jeff could see the worry on his nephew’s face and smiled slightly. “Tell him to come in. While I’m talking to him, ride out and find Jesse. Take him as far away as you can.”
Jared smiled and hugged Jeff. “Thank you.”
No sooner had he finished hugging his uncle than he heard raised voices outside. One of the voices was Jensen. He ran out of the house to find Jensen in an argument with his father.
“I don’t care Jensen! You are coming home with me and that’s final!”
“I am not going anywhere, Father. I’m thirty two and you can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
“You are still my son, and you will obey my orders.”
“No, I will not. You just want me to go back because you miss having your own personal servant,” Jensen said with venom in his voice.
“You were never a servant.”
“You treated me like one, made me do all the jobs that you wouldn’t pay your workers to do. I left Louisiana to get away from you, to live my life how I -“
Alan Ackles laughed. “Cowpunching is not a life, Jensen!”
“I belong here Father, with people who care about me and love me for who I am, not because I am the son of a sugar baron,” Jensen spat back.
The argument had drawn a crowd. The rest of the cowpunchers and Anita were watching from a distance.
“Ha! They don’t care about you Jensen; you’re just another cowboy to them and easily replaced.”
“No, he’s not,” Jeff interrupted. “Your son has proved himself to be one of the best cowboys I’ve ever had here and he is part of my family.” Jeff was standing with his rifle by his side. “He is not going anywhere unless he wishes to.”
Alan Ackles looked over at Jeff. “He is not your son and you cannot tell me what to do.”
“No, but you are on my land, and I am giving you five minutes to get off my ranch or I will shoot you.” Jeff warned.
“You cannot talk to me like that,” Alan yelled, walking over to Jeff.
“I don’t care if you’re the King of England; you have worn out your welcome so get off my land and never come back. Jensen is staying here.”
He snorted. “I will be back. You haven’t seen the last of me!”
Jeff aimed his rifle and fired a shot just in front of Alan’s feet. “I won’t miss next time.”
Alan Ackles mounted his horse, glared at Jensen and Jeff, and turned his horse to cantering away from the homestead.
Once he was out of sight, Jensen collapsed and started sobbing. Jared walked over and bent down beside him. “Come on,” he whispered, helping the other man to his feet and, with an arm around him, started walked Jensen towards the homestead, prepared for when Jensen’s legs gave out.
Once the two men disappeared into the house, Jeff looked at the cowboys who had gathered to watch the altercation. “Get back to work.”
Everyone muttered and went back to what they were doing while Jeff clicked the safety back on his rifle and went into the house, giving Jared and Jensen some space. Although Jensen had lied to everyone for the last nine months, Jeff could understand the reason behind it, having met his father. It was no wonder he had lived for so long under a different name and had not let anyone know of his past. Jeff meant what he had said: Jensen was part of the family, and he could stay on the ranch for as long as he wanted. Knowing how close Jensen and Jared had become, Jeff had a feeling that Jensen wouldn’t be going anywhere.
Jared sat Jensen down on the bed and continued to hold him, feeling the other man tremble in his arms.
“He’ll come back,” Jensen whispered. “He never takes no for an answer.”
“If he comes back, we’ll be ready for him. I’m not letting anyone take you away from me,” Jared said softly. He had never said it, but he was in love with Jensen, and he couldn’t imagine life without him.
The two men sat in silence, until Jensen finally stopped trembling and relaxed a bit in Jared’s arms. Despite what Jeff had said, he was still worried that his father would find some way to get him and drag him back to the plantation. “I won’t go back,” Jensen said softly, still holding onto Jared. “I will never go back.”
“You don’t have to Jensen, even if we have to get away from here for a while. I’m sure that Jeff will give us some time off. We’ve earned it,” Jared replied, knowing how scared and nervous Jensen was about his father’s appearance at the ranch.
When he returned to Louisiana, Alan got legal advice about forcing his son to return home. Because Jensen was an adult, there was nothing that could be done and, if he tried, he could be charged with kidnapping. Because Alan did not get his son back he refused to send Luther the promised reward money, not that he was going to give any of his hard earned money to some cowpuncher.
In her letters, Jensen’s mother said she was proud he had stood up to his father and as long as he was happy where he was that’s all that mattered to her, she wished him the best of luck.
Most of the cowpunchers had no problems when Jensen was promoted to Jared’s right-hand man on the ranch, although there were a few grumbles from a few. They had seen the type of gentleman that Jesse’s father was, and, although he didn’t show it, they could see that Jesse was well-educated and knowledgeable not only about ranching. Many had already learned a thing or two from him. The cowpunchers also knew not to bring up that day; they had seen how Jesse had broken down, and some of them had things in the past that they kept to themselves. They never made fun of someone else’s past.
The evening after Jeff had threatened Alan Ackles, Jensen sat down with Jeff, Jared and Anita and told them what he had never told anyone.
For as long as he could remember Jensen’s father insisted on only the best, as any rich father would want for their only son. When he was old enough, he was sent to boarding school where he stayed for years, receiving the best education (or so his father said) and only coming home to the plantation on allocated breaks. After graduating, his father had promised him not only the run of the plantation, but that everything would be his when it came time for his father to retire. Around this time he and his father’s relationship began to break down. While Jensen wanted to put what he had learnt into effect, to diversify and start growing something else other than sugar, he soon discovered that the only way he was allowed to run the plantation was his father’s way. He stayed, mainly for his mother’s sake as at that time she was not well.
Jensen had been nineteen when one night after getting hit by his drunken father he packed what he could, took one of his horses and started riding west. He only said good bye to his aunt and left a note for his mother, knowing it would be safe there. Living as Jesse Asher, he went from ranch to ranch, working and moving on when he was no longer required but always moving west.
Jeff’s quiet chuckles into the awkward silence that followed Jensen’s story made everyone look up. “You’ve got the education that most of us here could only dream of and you’re working as a cowboy?” he said.
Jensen shrugged. “I know history, mathematics and commerce and a lot of useless knowledge, but honestly, Jeff, the past ten years working from ranch to ranch has taught me more than those teachers.”
Jeff still smiled as he stood up and patted Jensen firmly on the back. “I’m still getting you to look at my books this winter.” He winked, went to the cabinet, and brought out four glasses and a bottle of whisky. “I think after a day like today we all need a drink!”
One morning towards the end of November, Jared rode from the ranch with Jensen. Once away from the ranch they headed slowly northwest, towards the southern end of the Guadalupe Mountains. Jensen had no clue as to where they were going, but he trusted Jared, who knew almost every part of this area. Much of this area looked the same and that was one of dangers and you could be walking around in circles and not realize it.
“You’re not going to give me a clue?” Jensen asked when they stopped to refill their water skins from a small stream, about two hours into the ride.
“No. You can keep asking, but you’re not to get any hints,” Jared replied. He knew from experience that this was going to be a long ride even though they were occasionally trotting and cantering. The area was half a day away from the ranch when the horse was walking but, as he had found out a year ago, it was just over three hours away when cantering most of the time. Not wanting to tire the horses, they decided to go a bit slower than a canter; it would hopefully only take four, maybe five hours.
Jensen huffed and went quiet again. He hadn’t seen this area and spent a lot of his time looking around, to memorize the route. He was still trying to learn as much as he could about the area and, of course, how to get back to the ranch so he didn’t get lost again.
“Where are we?” Jensen asked, after they stopped in a small clearing, resting from a long time of riding through the forest.
“A year ago, I came up here to round up cattle that had escaped through gaps in the fences. It was near dawn when I stumbled over something about fifteen yards that way,” Jared said, pointing into the trees. “What I didn’t know was that what I found there would change my life so much.”
Jensen looked around and realized what Jared was actually saying; this was the area where he had been found, nearly dead. Was that really a year ago?
“I knew you probably wouldn’t recognize it but I wanted to show you.”
“A lot has changed in the last twelve months, hasn’t it?”
Jared smiled and walked over to Jensen, putting his arms around the other man. “It has and I wouldn’t want to change a single thing.”
Jensen leaned back against Jared’s chest. “I can never thank you enough for saving me.”
Jared took a deep breath and closed his eyes, relaxing and listening to the sound of the birds around them. He was in love with Jensen and the other man knew it. “Will you move into the cabin with me?” The question caused Jensen to turn around in surprise. “I’ve told Jeff that I wish to move into one of my cabins, and I’d like you to come and live with me.”
“I - I I’d love to.” Jensen replied.
That Christmas, while most of the cowpunchers were off visiting family, Jared and Jensen moved to the small cabin they had fixed up. They stocked a section of the barn with hay and oats for the horses and kept supplies inside just in case a storm blew over and covered the place in snow or knocked trees down.
Jeff was proud of them, and even had Jensen check over his books to make sure that they were getting the best deal. Jensen didn’t mind at all and enjoyed spending some of his time inside instead of out on the land, especially during the middle of winter. Here at Morgan Ranch, he had found home.