Chapter 1
Henri was tired. The sun was beating down on him with not a cloud in sight and it was not the first time that he had wondered what he was doing out there in the Venezuelan countryside. While it may look idyllic, life there was tough.
He had come down to South America to get away from the pressures of the family ranch and business. Being a Callahan in Texas was a responsibility and there he was just another gringo or gaucho. Either one was fine with him, but the sun seemed far more punishing there. It was greener, but there were still large expanses with no trees and he always seemed to be in the middle of one.
The horse that he rode on, he was still getting used to him after several months and he figured it had something to do with his size. He was almost a foot taller than everyone that he had met there so far and must have weighed more as well. The horses were shorter than the ones he was used to in America, but they were sturdy enough to carry him around.
“Carlos, how much longer are we going to be here?”
The man watched the group of cows and looked back to see the few that were falling behind. They only got to move as fast as the cows moved and that seemed to be a problem. It was like a football game that his brother Scott used to watch all the time. Five minutes in a game was an hour and a mile with the cows was about the same. Trying to hurry them along, he moved his way in behind them and started to whoop and holler until they picked up their speed.
Carlos just looked at him and shook his head. “You have no patience.”
Henri ignored him. Carlos was used to the climate and his skin was made for it. Henri on the other hand had always been on the pale side and his first week there, he had been as red as a lobster. His skin would burn, peel and then he would still be just as white. This process finally gave him a little color, but his body was not used to the heat. He was melting and all he wanted to do was get back to the small ranch and get something to drink.
“You have too much patience. Get these beasts moving and we can get some tea.”
Carlos nodded, but he moved no faster and quickly Henri left him behind. The man was as slow as a sloth and Henri had long since run out of patience in the hot sun. By the time he got back to the small ranch where he was staying, the small man was out of sight when he looked back. True to his word, after he got the horse free to roam, he bee-lined it for the kitchen and made some tea. He was sitting down on the porch when Carlos finally came back, shaking his head at his journal.
“Always writing. What is there to write today?”
“That my teacher is as slow as Christmas.”
Carlos didn’t get a lot of his saying from America, but he would nod his head like he had. “You write and I am going to the village for a drink.”
He nodded and put his head back down to put in his entry. Henri was religious with it. He didn’t want to forget something later, a technique he’d learn or an adaption made to a machine. The culture of the people fascinated him, but the place itself is not what had brought him there. Henri was a traveler and Venezuela had always been on his list. When he heard about a program to help and learn, Henri saw it as a way to get out of Texas and back out to places a little more free with less people.
Growing up on a ranch had been perfect for the solitary man, but as he got older things changed. Not only did the town around him get bigger, but it seemed like there was just more and more people as the city started to overflow and make way for suburbs. Henri wanted out and if he hadn’t found the program to stay there and work with Carlos and his brother, Henri would just be off somewhere else in his wanderlust. One day he would find where he was supposed to be.
“Why don’t you come with me? It’s not good to be out here by yourself all of the time.”
Henri was going to say no, but then he thought against it. People like Carlos wouldn’t understand the need to be away from people. As far out as the farm was, it was a treat to see people more than once a week. Henri agreed and whistled to the horse to come to him. Finishing off his tea, he set the glass down on the porch and followed Carlos the several miles to the small village nearby.
The drinks were some sort of liquor, and like the food, Henri had learned not to ask about the ingredients. It was something that he didn’t want to know. The bar was a small square place with chairs and tables set up out front. There was music playing and Henri’s eyes were much like his companion, on the dancing women.
It reminded Henri how long it had been for him and though he was not ready to lose his mind, he was getting there. The women there were so different though and he was afraid of making a misstep. There was one thing that he missed about America and that was the women. They were less complicated or just his knowledge of how things were supposed to work, made it a lot easier to court someone in Texas.
“Did you get the letter that was there for you on the table?”
Henri shook his head, not looking away from the hips moving back and forth a few yards in front of him. The drink was strong and running through his veins. It was impossible for him to stop looking and Henri realized that he very well may be going mad. “No, what?”
Carlos just shook his head. “You have been alone on the farm too much.”
Henri nodded that he had been out there too long and turned his attention back to the dark-skinned man next to him. “What letter?”
“It came in yesterday and I thought you would see it. It was a woman’s name, Gemma on the return side. Made me think of it when I saw those girls dancing.”
“That was the last thing I would be thinking about is a letter.”
Carlos grinned. “It was not all I was thinking about.”
It would appear that both men were finding the farming life hard in the isolation. Carlos was more used to the long stretches that would happen because of the lifestyle, but Henri was not coping as well. He also started to wonder what Gemma wanted. Their mother had been ill only months before and he hoped that it wasn’t any more bad news. His sister didn’t usually go so long without contacting him and never in letter form. It had him wondering what was going on and what the letter would say. Henri was torn between wanting to find out and the lovely ladies in front of him. After a couple more drinks, the women won and he stayed until late in the night, though he was no closer to taking one back with him.
***
Henri didn’t remember about the letter on the table until the next morning when he was drinking coffee. Opening it, he was more than a little surprised to see that it was an invitation to her wedding. Henri hadn’t even known that she was with someone. It seemed like all of his siblings were getting married. There was also a small note in with the invitation for the wedding that was only a week away.
“You better come to see me brother.”
Smiling at her handwriting, he could hear her say it in his ear. It made sense as to why it was a letter, but he wasn’t sure if he would go or not. The idea of not going reminded him on how forceful Gemma could be and when he thought about it, Henri knew that it was time to go home to Texas for a while. When Carlos got up a bit later, he told him about his plans.
“Good. Maybe you will come back in a better mood. I will miss you around here. Ralph is not much to talk to.”
Henri was going to miss the small farm set off in such a barren landscape. He was going to miss his early mornings on the porch with a cup of coffee while the sun came up. There were several things that he would miss, but Henri reminded himself that he would be back soon. It didn’t feel that way though. It felt like he was never going to come back and it was like a goodbye in a way.
It would take all day to get to the airport and Henri only did a few things at the ranch before he waved to Carlos and made his way back home. Only temporary, he reminded himself.