San Joaquin Valley, California
Murdoch’s Number One Rule for Kinsey specified my cousin was not to venture beyond the immediate boundaries of the ranch without informing someone of her destination. I felt her Number One Rule should address her “statements of convenience”. Murdoch pointed out that it was more important to keep track of her while she was out riding. I countered with if caught being untruthful, Kinsey would have no desire to sit in a saddle.
At first, Kinsey followed Rule Number One to the letter. She faithfully sought out Johnny, Murdoch or myself to give us a detailed description of where she would be riding. She even drew me a map on one occasion. However, after a few weeks it became apparent that Jelly and Teresa were now informed of Kinsey’s whereabouts with less details. When confronted her excuse would always be Murdoch was busy, Johnny was in town or I couldn’t be found. Lately, Maria has been blessed with the knowledge of “Where’s Kinsey?”
“Maria, have you seen Kinsey?”
Scott had noticed earlier the kitchen garden still needed tended to, one of his cousin’s weekly chores and now her chestnut mare was not in the stable or pasture.
“La señorita Kinsey cabalgó hacia el gran roble.”
“She rode to the big oak tree. Well, doesn’t that narrow it down.”
Scott’s mood was darkening by the time he had traveled to the fifth big oak tree he could think of and still no Kinsey. He knew of one other possibility but this location was slightly beyond her designated boundaries.
“So help me, if that’s where she is…” Coming up over the rise Scott spotted the missing cousin sitting under a large tree. As he rode closer it appeared Kinsey was gathering papers but by the time he arrived the evidence had disappeared.
“I told Maria where I was going.”
Scott sat back in his saddle looking down at his adversary. He felt it was always best to have the higher ground during a skirmish.
“I know. I spoke with Maria.”
“You did?”
“Large oak trees are rather plentiful around here.”
“They are?”
“This particular oak is beyond where you should be.”
“It is?”
“You’re in some hot water with me right now. And Kinsey, if you answer me with ‘I am?’ your riding privileges will be a distant memory.”
“Scott, did it ever occur to you that I might like some quiet time all to myself so I can be thoughtful and reflective?”
“It has.”
“Well, your protective hovering makes it rather difficult.”
“When I am confident that you can make mature, common sense decisions then I will stop my protective hovering. You should be a young ninety-five by then.”
“Scott!”
“I miscalculated. One hundred and two.”
Scott dismounted and hunched down in front of Kinsey so they could be eye to eye.
“Now listen, you little rule-breaking fugitive…what are you doing out here?”
“I stated what I was doing out here you over-zealous protector of the universe.”
“You know what I think?” Scott started ticking off the list with his fingers. “One, you know this location is beyond your boundaries. Two, you believe I would never consider the fact you don’t do as you’re told. Three, you’re convinced no one is going to look for you here. Four, you now have an afternoon of freedom to do what you want. How convenient.” Scott held out his hand. “What are you hiding behind you?”
“You are prying into my personal life.”
“Unless that’s a diary describing your kissing lessons with the rugby-playing card shark of Melbourne, asking to see what you’re doing out here is not prying into your personal life.” Scott continued to hold out his hand. “One.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Two.”
“Stop it.”
“Three. Did I mention I’m only counting to five this time?”
“This is so unfair.”
“It only seems that way because you’re not in charge. Four.”
Before Scott could say the word “five” a small leather portfolio was placed in his hand.
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