Finding Tyler

“Tyler is missing again?” I snarled. Jinx, my buckskin Quarter Horse, pricked his ears at my tone and I took a deep breath to calm my anger. “What happened this time?” I asked Jess.

My younger sister had been waiting in the barn for me to return from checking cows on the north pasture. I was drenching wet from the thunderstorm and the news about Tyler did little to improve my spirits.

“We don’t know for sure, David. He was here at lunch and then I couldn’t find him about an hour later. When I went to look for him, Sadie was gone too,” Jess explained, nervously twisting a piece of straw.

Wonderful. Our ten-year-old cousin Tyler, seven years my junior, had been sent out to our ranch for “summer vacation.” My personal opinion was that his parents were fed up with him. I would have been too. After all the havoc he had caused at our ranch in the past month, I didn’t know how I could endure his antics for the rest of the summer. Now he had disappeared yet again, and with the only other horse on the home place.

“Here we go again,” I muttered. I swung onto Jinx’s back and adjusted the reins. Regardless of Tyler’s behavior, I knew I had to find him before night fall and the bitter mountain air closed in on the valley.

“I’ll be praying,” Jess promised. She didn’t meet my gaze, but worry shimmered in her eyes. Jess had always been more patient and loving toward Tyler than I could be; I merely attempted to tolerate him.

“We’ll be back soon,” I assured her. She offered a weak smile as I rode back out into the ranch yard.

I could tell Jinx wasn’t too impressed with the idea of rejoining the downpour. His ears were flat and I felt his back humped beneath my Western saddle. “Look, buddy, this wasn’t my idea of how to spend the evening either. But the faster you help me find your friend Sadie, the sooner we’ll be back home,” I coaxed. Jinx stamped a hind hoof. Obviously, he was in no mood to be pleasant.

I pulled my hat down against the driving rain. It would be no use trying to track Sadie in this weather. So where would Tyler have taken her? On second thought, Tyler didn’t know very well how to manage a horse so he probably would have been more apt to let Sadie do the leading. Which meant, of course, the lower meadows behind the ridge, Sadie’s favorite place on earth. I touched Jinx with my heels and he broke into a reluctant trot.

We reached the meadows with little difficulty. Jinx knew the path as well as I did and the worst part was Deer Creek, which had swollen to twice its size but wasn’t much of a challenge for my heavy-boned ranch horse. We plunged through the creek and loped into the meadow. With dusk having fallen, I could only see by flashes of lightning or bits of moonlight that managed to penetrate the thick cloud cover.

“Tyler!” I shouted. “Sadie!” Jinx suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, nearly throwing me over his shoulder. He lifted his head to the wind and snorted in the air before releasing a welcoming whinny that shook his entire body. Another whinny replied in the distance and Jinx jumped toward the sound. As we sped across the meadow, I saw Sadie’s palomino color dimly advancing like a ghost. When we met, Jinx and Sadie rubbed muzzles while I cast an appraising glance over Tyler, who was shivering on Sadie’s bare back and clutching her mane.

“You okay?” I asked. I did my best to be sincere and hide the annoyance I felt. Tyler nodded. He was shaking from limb to limb and his eyes held the terrified look that a rabbit wore when caught in the talons of a hawk. I couldn’t help but pity the sopping wet city kid. “Come on,” I said, “let’s go home.”

Jinx and I trotted back across the meadow with Sadie following closely. The storm was abating, but the creek, rushing madly down its bed, loomed before us. Jinx forged across it, but when we reached the other side, Sadie was still dancing on the opposite edge of the creek, terrified of the swirling waters.

“The water’s too fast!” Tyler wailed. “She won’t go in.”

“Give her a kick,” I shouted over the noise of the creek. “She needs to be encouraged.”

“I can’t! We won’t make it!” Tyler screamed.

“Yes, you will,” I shouted. “Come on, Tyler, you can do it.”

“No, I can’t!”

Jinx struck the ground with a hoof and jangled the bit. Frustrated, I slammed my heels into his side and sent him back across the creek to Tyler and Sadie.

“Look, Tyler…” I began, every trembling muscle in my soaked body ready to give him the tongue lashing he deserved. But I stopped, the words tainting my mouth. Tyler’s shoulders heaved with every gasping, sobbing breath.

He was crying.

I was dumbfounded. Tyler – the secure, egotistical braggart – was weeping.
I was seeing a Tyler that I had never known existed.

I swallowed hard. Suddenly I didn’t feel like unleashing my wrath on him. Actually, I couldn’t even say that I felt angry anymore. I was sympathetic. And ashamed of my own behavior.

“Tyler,” I crooned, using the same voice I used when gentling a young colt, “slip on behind my saddle. Jinx will take us both across and Sadie will follow.” Tyler raised his head and sniffed with tear-filled eyes. I sidled Jinx closer to Sadie. Tyler managed to wiggle on behind me. His arms gripped around my waist as he snuggled against me.

“Okay?” I asked. I heard a muffled “yes” in reply. “Hang on,” I instructed. Jinx splashed through Deer Creek and eagerly pranced toward home. Sadie whinnied frantically before bounding through the creek and galloping after us.

The barn was a welcome relief from the damp night. I dismounted and helped Tyler, stiff and cold, to the ground. You get inside and warmed up,” I urged. “I’ll be inside after I take care of the horses.”

Tyler looked up at me, his eyes tired and bloodshot, his blond hair matted into clumps and corkscrews. He threw his arms around me to hug me. Surprised, I almost pulled away, but then relaxed and massaged his back.

Tyler sniffed. “I love you, David,” he whispered.

I tensed at the un-masculine emotions Tyler’s voice evinced in me. But I swallowed my pride and answered through a tight throat, “I love you, too, Tyler.”

I truly meant it.