Where Hearts Run Wild Read online

  “Yeah, I know,” Bobby said quietly. “Ever since Dirty Harry cleaned up the streets.”

  “Did you say, Dirty Harry?” said Nina “The movie cop?”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re old enough to know him,” Bobby said innocently enough, not knowing one should never challenge a woman’s age.

  “Let’s not get started on the wrong foot,” said Nina.

  Bobby was not sure what Nina meant, but he knew by the tone of her voice he had crossed a line, and he better jump back to his side of the fence and fly low.

  Nina opened Bobby’s file and studied it for a few seconds. Then she looked up at Bobby. “I see that you read books when you attended school?”

  “I read some,” he said in a low voice.

  “That’s good,” Nina said. “We have a library here.”

  Bobby nodded, only half interested.

  “You’re assigned a room—your own room. Nothing fancy. But it’s clean and near the corral,” said Nina. “We call it a bunkhouse.”

  “Do I get a TV?” Bobby said with a tad of hope.

  “No,” said Nina. “Only in the rec room, and only certain times—and certain shows. And, sorry, no maid service. You clean and take care of your own room and your clothes. We inspect it regularly.”

  “That’s not a big deal,” said Bobby. “I been doin’ that ever since I can remember.”

  Nina gave Bobby a look that told him she had a caring side and she understood his unfortunate situation. Bobby shifted his gaze away from Nina’s and to the floor. For some odd reason that he could not understand, something deep inside him told him that treating this woman with a smart mouth and a bad attitude was not the right thing to do. It made him feel like a jerk. For Nina was somehow above any woman he had ever met. Maybe, he thought, she was somehow what he always believed his mother should have been like. In control, yet a nice person you respect even if you do not act respectfully.

  “I know, Bobby,” said Nina, “I’ve read your file. Maybe the wild horse program can change some things in your life.”

  Bobby thought about this. He glanced up at Nina. “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, but try to keep an open mind—just in case. I’ll be checking your progress. I get reports from your supervisors, Sam Wyler, and Armos Williams. The three of us decide whether or not you remain in the program. There is counseling available to you, and it’s voluntary. Any questions?”

  Bobby glanced about the room, then forced a smile as if to say, “No sweat.”

  “I understand,” said Bobby.

  Nina stood as she closed Bobby’s file. Bobby also stood, glad the meeting was over.

  “Bobby, I’m sorry about your mother. And I know it must be tough being on your own and without family. Your mother had addictions to the point where her passing probably brought her peace. But I’m sure she loved you even though she fell victim to her circumstances. And if she were here, I think she would want you to make the best of things.”

  Bobby stared at Nina, totally disarmed! She knew about his mom? She took the time to know! Why, he could not understand, but Bobby knew it was a good thing. The memories of his mother brought both anger and fear to his young mind. Anger over how he was raised, yet fearful of the world without her.

  But Nina appeared to be genuinely interested in Bobby. She seemed to care for him. And that was a warm feeling, something he had not felt for a long while. Bobby kept his emotions in check and did not reveal he was moved by Nina’s kind words and good thoughts.

  * * * *

  Bobby’s bunkhouse room was twelve by twelve feet, containing a single bed covered by a sheet and wool blanket. A blanket with red, green, and brown stripes. The sort of blanket one might expect to see on a horse’s back under its saddle. There was a sink on a cabinet with a small mirror mounted on the wall above it. And a shower stall next to the sink covered by a blue plastic shower curtain. There were two small, framed paintings on two of the walls. The pictures were of horses—wild horses of black, brown, and caramel in color. The animals ran freely across an open, sun-bathed prairie. The bunkhouse had one window, and the window was open with a view of the plains and mountains in the background.

  The door opened, revealing Bobby as he entered the room one small step at a time. He held his backpack in his hand which contained all his worldly possessions. Bobby looked about the room as he placed his backpack on the bed. He let out a ragged breath thinking how this was going to be his home for the next twelve months. Twelve months? Had he subconsciously decided he would “play by the rules” in order not to get sent to the “gray bar hotel?” No, this could not be. He was Bobby Shortino. The Bobby Shortino that knew his way in and out of every scrape.

  Bobby walked to the open window and looked out over the seemingly endless landscape. He could not help but wonder how anyone would trust him with such an easy access to an escape route? And this only compounded his confusion over his situation. Either the people who ran the ranch were totally clueless, or totally smarter than he was and knew things he had never pondered.

  Abruptly, and without an invitation, J. R. Lysaker entered the room flashing a brazen smile. Bobby turned quickly with a start upon seeing J. R. The two exchanged a look of recognition.

  “Hey, man,” said J. R. “If it isn’t Bobby boy Shortino! Denver’s very own independent dealer.”

  Seeing J. R. shocked Bobby to the point of being speechless. He covered as fast as he could however, giving J. R. a cold stare.

  “What’s a matter, Shorty?” said J. R. “You surprised to see me, or are afraid to see me?”

  “You don’t give me the chills, J. R., and I don’t push junk anymore!”

  With that, Bobby moved towards J. R. and attempted to shove him out of the bunkhouse and out the door. But J. R. did not push easy as he outsized Bobby and was a little stronger. The two struggled a moment.

  “Not so fast, punk,” said J. R. “We gotta talk!”

  “Got nothin’ to talk about, J. R. Now get out of my room!”

  “This room is mine!” said J. R. “Just like all the rest of ’em! And while you’re here you take orders from me, got it!”

  “Get out of my face, now!” Bobby said with the toughest voice he could muster.

  Bobby gave J. R. a push against a wall near the door. J. R. gnarled with anger as he grabbed Bobby and threw him to the floor. Bobby quickly got to his feet, made a fist, and took a swing at J. R. He ducked, taking Bobby by the collar of his shirt and pinned him against a wall.

  “Now one more chance,” said J. R. “And you listen good! I own you while you’re here! You do what I say, or everybody’s gonna know how you turned on the rest of us and went into business for yourself! Go on, take the money and run. Ain’t that how you did it? Problem is, it wasn’t your money to take!”

  J. R. gave Bobby another slam against the wall.

  “Nobody’s gonna like you too much if they were to find out!” said J. R. “I did you a favor back then by not sayin’ anything. I guess I got a little soft in the head and felt sorry for you because of your mother. But no more pity party for you!”

  J. R. released a shaken Bobby.

  “What goes around, comes around,” said J. R. “And I’ve just come around! Later, dude!”

  J. R. turned and walked out of the room, leaving Bobby with anger in his heart and worry on his mind. He walked to the door and closed it, attempting to catch his breath and gather his senses. J. R. Lysaker—that’s all he needed. A ghost from the past who was a hated enemy no less. How would he ever make it in the Breakem camp for a whole year with a monster like J. R. in his face every day?

  A year!

  It sounded impossible.

  Bobby anguished over the thought. But he may have to go the whole nine yards at Breakem. An escape could lead to more serious consequences; the gray bar hotel!

  And that would be a stay in prison for longer than a year—a prison with locked doors and windows. Either
way, J. R. was going to try to turn every day upside down, no matter how long he was here.

  * * * *

  Moonlight crossed Bobby’s face as it flooded into his room. He lay on the bed with his eyes wide open as he looked up at the ceiling, still upset over his confrontation with J. R. All was quiet, save an occasional and distant howl of a coyote that would ring out, echoing over the plains and hillsides, breaking the dead of night silence.

  Bobby rolled to one side and clutched his pillow tightly. Bobby ignored the crying coyote, although it did serve to fuel his fears and add another layer of anxiety to his already murky predicament. Then, finally, Bobby’s little wall of self-defense came tumbling down as his eyes began to fill with tears. The young man, a child really, came out of hiding as he faced the fact that he was lost in a jungle and there was no one to reach out and take him by the hand and bring him to a safer place—a safer time.

  Suddenly, the low and gruff snort of a horse was heard from outside Bobby’s window. Startled at first, Bobby did not move. The neigh was heard again, this time a little more persistent. Bobby sat up slowly in his bed, then swung his feet to the floor and stood. He walked to the window and peered out into the moonlit night.

  There, a short distance away and just outside the corral stood Rebel, looking directly at Bobby, who froze at the sight of the stallion. Rebel’s magnificent stature was silhouetted against the moonlight, and it gave the animal an almost surrealistic appearance. A statue, a large and somewhat fearsome statue that one might see in a scary movie on Halloween night. A figure someone might place outside a window to scare the living daylights out of you.

  Bobby’s gaze was glued on Rebel. He was awestruck!

  Rebel’s large, dark eyes sparkled, reflecting the moonlight as he continued to look at Bobby, motionless with only an occasional whip of his long tail. A breeze came up, and it tossed Rebel’s mane about. He whinnied softly as if to say, “Hello, and welcome, Bobby Shortino.”

  Bobby continued to study the horse with his curiosity now running wild. “Rebel, is that you? Really you?” Bobby said with a voice that trembled slightly.

  Rebel replied with a soft snort as if to answer Bobby.

  Of course, Bobby thought, this was impossible. Although, horses are keen and receptive when relating to humans. But Rebel had never met Bobby face to face. And when they did meet back at the roadside café, they were a great distance apart. So why did Rebel come to Bobby’s bunkhouse? Why would a wild horse single him out and come to pay a risky visit? Bobby remembered Armos telling him Rebel was smart. So smart it was almost spooky to be in his presence. But wow, what a friend to have. A horse smart, strong, and brave enough to come to the ranch, knowing everyone would like to capture him and keep him locked up forever. Could it be that Rebel somehow knew who Bobby was? Bobby’s past? In a funny sort of way, Bobby mused, he and Rebel were somewhat alike. True or not, the idea was comforting to Bobby. And perhaps he was not as alone as he had thought.

  Deciding he had accomplished what he had come for and a horse who was smart enough to never play his cards too long, Rebel reared and gave a whinny that echoed through the night. He turned and galloped off into the moonlight covered landscape of the plains and disappeared.

  Bobby’s tears had dried, and a faint smile took his expression as he looked after the departed Rebel. There was something bigger than life about the horse. Something that kindled great interest for Bobby. The mystery the animal displayed was intriguing to him. Rebel was something positive to think about instead of himself and the problems he faced. Maybe the horse could become a friend? Someone he could relate to and care about. Bobby looked up at the moon, and his smile became a little broader. He never dreamed that anything like this could take place. How a simple visit from a wild horse could bring a feeling of warmth—even if only temporary—to his heart. But would Rebel return again? Or was this his one and only encounter with the horse? Bobby wondered as he could only hope he would see Rebel again. And that in itself gave Bobby comfort and something to look forward to. A small glint of light in his darker world.

  Chapter 7

  The horse’s head bobbed nervously, and its large brown eyes looked about, flaring slightly in a tense manner. But the rope around its golden-brown neck kept the animal in check, and it could only twitch as it instinctively knew the rope was a noose that connected him to man. In this case, it was Bobby who had a firm grip on the rope that connected to the bristled noose. Bobby only stood shoulder high to the horse, and he wondered why the mare did not rear to its hind legs, take off in a heated run and jump the corral fence to freedom. Was it maybe that secretly the horse wanted to be tamed? Bobby thought. Maybe the animal was tired of being wild, having to hunt for every blade of grass it ate and drop of water it drank. Tired of being hunted by man and deep down inside it wanted to be loved and taken care of?

  Secretly, Bobby could relate to that. He remembered watching a television show about horses when he was younger, never thinking in his wildest dreams he would come this close to one. And he thought there must be something definite and secure about the rope around the horse’s neck and the relationship between man and horse that, according to the show he watched, went back through the centuries.

  Though the air was thick with tension, the warm morning sun somehow bathed and soothed the corral arena. Of course, no one paid any attention to the weather as a training session was about to take place. There were five restless horses spread out in various sections of the corral.

  Each had been ridden a time or two by Sam and his cowboy assistants, and each one was saddled. There were two youth inmates standing next to each of the five horses. Half of the ten young men held bridles in their hands while the other five held a rope that looped around the necks of the horses.

  Not much wisecracking took place between the youths as they were about to face a real challenge—a genuine test of macho. One that just might prove to be more than they could handle. Although they would never let on, the young men secretly knew this and were apprehensive about it.

  To Bobby’s chagrin, he had been teamed up with J. R. Neither Sam, Nina, nor Armos knew of their relationship, so there was little Bobby could do about it. But he swore to himself he would not allow J. R. to shake him up in any way.

  J. R. held a bridle in his hands. Different than the other boys, he was his normal cocky self with an expression that reflected the same. And since he considered himself to be the king of the campus, he was exempt from the no wisecracking club.

  “Ready for a roller coaster ride, Shorty?”

  “Piece a cake.” Bobby made a quick comeback, pretending to ignore J. R.

  J. R. snickered. “You are so fake! I’ll bet they can hear your teeth chatter across the corral.”

  “Why don’t you stuff it, J. R.!” Bobby snapped back.

  “Hey, lighten up. You’re still one of us. And like I said, you’re gonna work for me. No games this time.”

  “I’m not doin’ nothin’ for you!” Bobby lashed out. “Now crawl off me and bug somebody else!” Bobby hit a nerve, and J. R. lurched forward as if to attack.

  “Watch your moves, punk!” said J. R. “I told you what would happen if—” J. R. noticed Sam walking out into the middle of the corral.

  “We’ll talk later!” J. R. said in a vicious tone of voice—a tone that worried Bobby.

  “Listen up, guys,” said Sam, “for the benefit of you newcomers, and as a reminder for everyone else, I’ll go over things again. You’re gonna try to ride the mares and stallions without breaking your neck.”

  Some of the boys exchanged a nervous glance hearing Sam’s warning.

  Armos led a tame horse out into the corral and to Sam’s side.

  “Remember, these horses have been around people for a time,” said Sam, “but they are pretty independent. Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re tougher than they are—’cause you’re not.”

  The boys looked at one another with mixed em
otions. And as they eyed the towering and muscular horses, they were convinced Sam was right.

  “The horse I’m with is broken,” said Sam. “She’s a sweetheart, and I’m going to use her to show you how things are done. First off, we’re going to put bridles on the horses. They’re not going to like it much. In fact, they downright hate it. Fortunately for you, these horses have had a trial run. Rider, and you that hold bridles, I want you to approach the horse and pet its neck gently—easy. Let them know you are not the enemy.”

  The youths followed Sam’s instructions. The horse’s nostrils flared a little with suspicion and a touch of fear. Some reared slightly, others backed away timidly, undecidedly. J. R. reluctantly went along with the exercise.

  “Okay,” Sam said with praise in his voice, “just keep doing what I tell ya and don’t say too much. Don’t make any threatening moves or sounds.”

  The boys continued to stroke the horses in an apprehensive manner. And perhaps the horses knew they were being patronized. One never knows about a wild horse; one can only guess.

  “Now, I want the bridle holder to approach your horse and ever so slowly show the horse the bridle,” Sam instructed. “Don’t attempt to pull it over its head just yet. Let ’em see it first. They’ve got to know it’s not alive, not something like a snake.”

  Bobby awkwardly, but gently pet the horse’s neck and mane. J. R. held the bridle up for the horse to see.

  However, he did not hold it high enough to catch the animal’s line of vision.

  “Hold it up higher so he can see it!” said Bobby.

  “Shut up, new boy,” snapped J. R. “I know what I’m doin’!”