Roland cast his gaze over what seemed like an endless and indistinguishable prairie.  

There were features in the landscape.  Gentle rises and slopes.  There was grass everywhere, or almost so.

For a man who had a mind for machines, it was hard to understand that one grass was very different from another.  That a weed could make the difference between healthy and unhealthy cattle.  That a rise or a slope in the landscape could make any real difference.  

Perhaps he needed to think of the natural world like a machine.  Where every component fed into every other to make the working whole.  No cog was unimportant.  No lack of lubrication was trivial.  Every failure to polish a surface had some mechanical cost.  He might not be able to understand the factors or how they equated, but they paralleled his work nonetheless.  

"Well," Roland said as they were back underway, once again crossing the miles of landscape, "there may be more to the profession of cattle-raising than I gave credit for.  It seems every profession, no matter how simple it seems, actually has a sweeping scope of details that one educated in its practice is solely aware of.  I didn't imagine raising cattle to be much more than putting them in a field and waiting for them to get big enough for sale.  That'll teach me to consider anything trivial in this life."

The dipping sun cast a beautiful hue of orange over the landscape.  Roland turned to see the same light upon Addy's crimson locks.  Her hair almost glowed like the burning coals of a furnace.

"The sun makes love to you as it sets," he remarked, "and it kisses you again in the morning.  It's almost enough to make a man jealous."

He turned his gaze back to the fields, lest he breach decorum further with his long looks.

Bongo

Roland's observations on how you never really knew the ins and outs or complexities of someone else's job, and how even the most simple things could be more involved than you thought, were pretty astute, and gave Addy pause to thought, and she was just about to say as much when he started to wax poetic about the sun and...

Well, it caused a hot flush to come to her cheeks, and left her not only wordless, but her heart was all a-flutter at the flowery language, and it made a small part of her wish that she could allow herself to give over the part of her that was wary of men, that didn't want to be seen as a woman, that didn't feel it was safe to let her soul trust...

Of course, there was the part of her that was sure the flattery was just that, words to reach an end, an end she might lust after, but not the end she wanted.

Shaking her head in frustration, she dug her heels into Arabesque's sides, galloping for a short way, then settling into a trot that would make further conversation difficult, and get them to their destination more quickly...

Roland sighed softly to himself as Addy pulled ahead, increasing her speed to put some distance between them.

He'd said too much and spoken too freely, placing a burden upon their friendship.  He was old enough to know that un-answered ardor could put so much weight on a friendly relationship as to break it, and he did not want to see that happen to theirs.  He made a mental vow not to burden her further with his romantic interests.  He'd rather have a good friend than an ex-friend, after all.

But... she did look majestic as she rode on ahead, and the sun did play delightfully upon her hair.  

It seemed an inevitability that he'd eventually break his vow and ruin everything.

But not today.   

He could be good for a day.

Shakespeare could write a tragedy about tomorrow.

Bongo

Finally gathering herself, Addy slowed Arabesque to a walk, so that she was alongside Ember and Roland.  Here, the road rose for a short way, then started to drop down again, and she knew that at the top of this last rise they would be able to see the house, barns and corrals, and beyond that, Lost Lake, that wasn't so lost anymore.  It was a magnificent sight, and the angled light and deep shadows would make it even moreso.

"There it is."  She pulled Arabesque to a stop, looking down at the scene less than a mile off now.  "Don't know as I'd mind havin' me a place like that one'a these days," she mused dreamily, but then she shrugged.  "Not good fer businesses like ours, though, ta be so far from town, an' I've no love ta be a cattle rancher.  Them critters are good eatin', but dumb as a sack'a nanny-goat tails flappin' in th' wind!"

She laughed, glancing at Roland, then back at the house.  "Wouldn't mind, though, comin' home ta a place like this, all pretty an' peaceful..."  Maybe someday, but as long as she had to work and Weedy had to go to school...

"Let's get on down there, see how th' big ranchers live!"  She'd made deliveries here, but had never actually been in the house.

Roland's eyes widened as he took in the view.   The dying sun painted the ranch grounds almost as proudly as it had brushed Addy's hair with its fingers of light.  It was quite a thing to behold.

"You could raise horses," Roland opined when she mentioned her dream of having something similar for herself, one day.  "Horses, or mules, or such.  You have a talent for animals.  And a love for them.  And horses can be bright sparks.  Brighter than cows.  Even smell better, in my humble opinion."  He smirked.  "I think that sort of life could suit you."

He spurred his horse to renewed vigor as they descended the slope towards the ranch.

"Hopefully the big ranchers have a big dinner," Roland laughed as they closed the final distance, "As I've worked up quite the big appetite on the ride over!"

Bongo

@[Lost Lake Folks]

"Pleanty'a places raisin' horses out here," Addy observed, "especially with Mrs. Pike bringin' in them Morgans, but mules..."  He did have a good point, and no one was raising mules in the area that she knew of.  While different than horses for riding, mules were good working animals, and in an area like this, that had so much mining and logging, there just might be a market for them.

"I'll surely hafta look into that, ask around." There was a lot to consider, but she hadn't ever considered considering it before, so that was something!  "Never thought on anything much past drivin' freight an' stage," she admitted, "been at that since th' war, but fer now I do gotta stay close by town, since there's Weedy to consider!"

A powerful lot of considering!

"Reckon yer right on th' supper here, Lost Lake has quality beef, fresh right here on th' ranch."  She gave Roland a sly look.  "Why do ya think I rode out all this way?  Surely not fer th' company?"  Ever so quickly, she struck her tongue out at him, then turned her attention back to the road.

Shade had to admit that settling back into his old room felt good. Getting a hot bath and putting on clean clothes felt even better. For the first time in a long time he remembered to mentally thank the departed spirit of Chance, his late brother, for modernizing the huge old lodge. Shade knew the boiler system that heated the water and its associated plumbing was finicky, but it beat the alternatives all to hell.

He had returned to main great room only to be greeted enthusiastically by his niece and nephew. The fraternal twins, Cody and Nettie, only six years old, were also his wards. Shade and Quentin Cantrell shared custody of the children. Chance had married Quentin’s younger sister, Regina, and their will had designated the two men, the children’s uncles, as their guardians. Not long after a rough and tumble reunion with the two little ones, there was a more sedate greeting from Harriet Mercer, long-time family friend and now their legal eagle.

"Shade," Harriet said in her pleasant, well-modulated voice, "it is good to have you home." She held out both hands which he took and leaned in to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"It’s good to be home, Harry," Shade responded, using the hated nickname in a teasing tone of voice.

Mary came in long enough to tell them that Warbow had chosen to take his meal in the kitchen and retire early for the evening. She disappeared back into her undisputed domain. Shade set the kids to watching for their guests to arrive while he and Harriet caught up on events as they waited for Quentin to join them.

Longshot for Quentin to join us.

Quentin came out of his room, dressed in a fresh red shirt. It was a personal favorite of his when talk or actions might be in a more combative vein. He walked through the house to the stairs and descended down to the ground floor. He walked over into the great room and nodded to Shade and Harriet as they were catching up. He headed over to the humidor sitting on a table in the corner. Quentin took out one of his favored thin cigars and used the clippers to snip off the end. He then turned around and saw Harriet's look.

"Calm yourself, Harriet...I'm not lighting it..." Quentin moistened the end of the cigarillo and then stuck it between his lips as he moved over and sat down in his favorite chair, merely chewing on the object. "So what has the conversation been about while I was upstairs?"

Harriet feigned exasperation, "I *am* calm," she replied, "just warning you that those things are absolutely not good around the children!"

Shade chuckled, he was accustomed to Quentin's and Harriet's little spats, "You know, you two bicker like an old married couple." He looked over at Quentin, "Harriet and I were just catching up on the local news." He cut his eyes toward the twins. They were playing some obscure twin game nearby, but he knew children often heard more than one thought they did.

Quentin followed Shade's gaze to the twins and gave a nod. "Do you think we should send them off to bed? It's still a bit early even for children their age."

"No, they'll take dinner with Mary and Sage in the kitchen as usual," Shade said quietly. "They need to see that they don't need to fear everyone."

Roland let out one of his trademark 'Har!' laughs as Addy jokingly rebuffed his company in favor of a good meal.

He was pretty sure it was jokingly... though if the steaks were good enough, he might just come in second place even to himself!

The final stretch to the ranch closed ahead of them.  He could see why the place was called "Lost Lake' at last, as it sat within a depression of the landscape.  If one were to ride two or three miles in any direction, the whole ranch and its affiliated Lake would suddenly seem to disappear, concealed by rises on all sides.  Doubtless, its place in the midst of so much higher territory was part of what inspired water to pool in the eponymous 'Lost Lake.'

Roland could well imagine some prior explorer coming across the lake and then riding away, only to find himself doubting its location as he looked back and failed to find it.

But then, you could never be sure how a place got its name.

Sometimes the truth was stranger than whatever reasonable fiction you came up with in your mind.

"And there I see the cows," Roland declared, dipping the rim of his hat to salute them as the pair passed by the grazing animals, "my respects for your sacrifice."