by J K Ellem
Almost as good as him.
19
It was a straight drop. No trees, no bushes, no ledges to break someone’s fall. Nothing. Just a vertical plummet onto the jagged rocks that covered the bottom of the ravine two hundred feet below.
Shaw squatted for a moment longer examining the crumbling edge. A few loose stones and soil broke off and fell, and he prodded the edge with a stick. One wrong foot and he would end up down there like Daisy’s father. The path around the side of the ravine was only a few feet wide, barely enough for the two of them and certainly not wide enough for a horse. Yet Daisy had said Stan McAlister was thrown from his horse, or at least that’s what the investigation concluded.
He stood up. Daisy was standing back from the edge, behind Shaw, almost pressed up against the rock face. She didn’t want to see the bottom of the ravine.
Bad memories.
The last time she was in this exact spot she had looked down and seen her father’s body, broken, twisted and bloody at the bottom, flesh and bone smashed against hard rock.
She didn’t want to relive it again.
The track was too narrow here, too dangerous on horseback, so they left the horses tethered to a cottonwood just before the path branched away from the main trail and started to elevate and curve around the outer edge of the cliff side. Shaw imagined the path was once wider, but in time, wind and rain had worn it away.
On the opposite side it was just a sheer cliff face of jagged shale just like the side they were standing on, but without any path or obvious way to traverse across the mountainside.
“Is this the spot?” Shaw asked.
Daisy just nodded, her face pale, her eyes filled with sadness. It hadn’t changed much in the years. It was a lonely spot, and being here now brought back all the raw emotions she had felt on that day. She remembered stumbling back to her horse, just fragments of memory as she rode back to the ranch to tell her mother to call the police, but that was all. She couldn’t remember much else. Shock had numbed her memory of the day.
The police came from Hays. It had taken them a long time to get here. The place was isolated, remote, off the track. Then a police search and rescue team came up and recovered the body, winching it up on a hard stretcher and carrying it down the ridge to a waiting ambulance.
Shaw looked around. It was a desolate place, away from the main ridge, almost hidden. “Where does the path lead?” he asked.
Daisy didn’t move. “I don’t know,” she replied, “It’s not on any map, this trail.” To get here they had to cross a shared boundary between the two properties. “It’s still McAlister land, but I’ve only been up here twice.”
Shaw nodded. There was nothing here, no animals, no clues, nothing.
It was eerily quiet too and colder, like the ravine walls had absorbed all the sun’s heat, but refused to give anything back.
“I don’t know what my father was doing up here. I don’t know why he spent so much time up here.”
Shaw looked at the path. It curved around the side and out of sight. There was something beyond there. Something that had held Stan McAlister’s interest.
Maybe the answer was where the path led. Maybe there was nothing on the other side, just more shale and rock. Maybe Daisy’s father just came here for the solitude to get away from the ranch and his troubles. But he could have picked a more scenic spot, something with a view. This place was dead. It reminded Shaw of an old abandoned quarry.
But one thing was for certain.
He didn’t fall off his horse to his death in the ravine below.
He was on foot and either he slipped and fell as he was making his way along the path, or something much worse.
20
It was mid-afternoon by the time they had rode back down the ridge and had made it to the foothills again. Shaw was more confident on his horse and he rode alongside Daisy. With each footfall away from the ravine her mood brightened. At first when they set off on the return journey she was withdrawn, silent, just focusing on steering Jazz through the rocky terrain, and guiding Shaw and his horse.
Instead of forcing the conversation Shaw thought it was best to leave her to her own thoughts. The only thing she had said when they had saddled up was I don’t want to ever come back here again.
But now her mood brightened the closer they got back to the ranch. She wanted to see Callie tonight, call her up and get her over for dinner, like how it used to be, spend more time with her friends. She had neglected them over the years, had been preoccupied with the ranch, but that would change. She would get the help she needed to run the place. Somehow she would find the money, perhaps sell some more cattle, then restock when things were better.
Ahead Shaw could see the gate of another shared tract of land. Daisy dismounted and slid the chain over the post and swung open the gate. Shaw nudged his horse forward and Daisy walked Jazz through then closed the gate.
They had only gone a few hundred yards when Shaw heard the sound, the high-pitched revving of engines.
To the left, cutting a fast line towards them came two Polaris ATVs. They were the racing turbo-charged variants. Side-by-side, two occupants in each caged cockpit, driving hard, their engines in high gear, punching out one hundred and sixty eight horsepower as they flew across the ground, the big tires tearing up dirt in their wake, suspension struts bouncing up and down as they raced towards Shaw and Daisy.
Daisy pulled up Jazz, slid her Winchester out and held it across her saddle. Shaw pulled up beside her and watched as the ATVs hammered towards them.
The lead vehicle cut a sharp turn in front of them, and skidded to a violent halt in a hail of stones and dirt, blocking their path. The other ATV pulled up alongside the first.
Jazz and Shaw’s horse were well trained, they didn’t spook at the noise or the sudden movement of the two machines.
Four men climbed out, two from each vehicle.
One was Billy Morgan, but Shaw didn’t recognize the other three men, and they didn’t look like ranch hands or grunt-employees. They were dressed in black drill pants and polo shirts, with baseball caps pulled tight and purposeful over their heads and military boots. They all looked lean, fit and hardened.
All three men carried compact assault rifles slung across their chests, holographic optics, handguns on their hips as a secondary weapon. None of them had touched their rifles, they just let them dangle in front of them, supremely confident.
Daisy held her reins in one hand and her Winchester in the other, not pointed at anyone. “I’ll handle this,” she said.
It was a strange sight, Shaw thought. Old-school versus modern. Horse and Winchester lever-action with iron-sights up against modern ATVs and hi-tech assault rifles with holographic sights. Skill and experience versus laziness and technology.
Billy Morgan walked over in a slow relaxed manner like he was walking into church on Sunday. The three other men held back, but slowly fanned out. One in particular took a keen interest in Shaw, even though it was Daisy who was cradling the rifle.
The man had already assessed Shaw as the real threat, not the girl with the gun.
This man seemed in-charge of the other two, he had an air of authority, older, grey hair under his cap, and a poise that spoke of a quiet confidence that came from a wealth of disciplined hard-earned experience.
“This is a shared boundary, Billy. We are permitted through here. You know that.”
Billy Morgan smiled, but he was looking at Shaw as well.
“This ain’t Morgan land,” Daisy said, adjusting her hips, Jazz moved slightly under her, the horse's ears were laid back and she snorted at the man standing in her way. Even the horse didn’t like Billy Morgan.
Billy hooked his thumbs through his belt, cocky and sure. “Not for much longer.”
Daisy tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Billy shrugged. “Put an application into the Hays City Commission asking them to grant exclusive rights of this tract of land to us, not you. Our ra
nch is bigger, more important, of more commercial significance than yours. I’m sure they’ll come around and to my way of thinking.”
“You mean, after you have paid them off first,” Daisy spat.
“Now, now Daisy don’t get all conspiracy theory and political on me. I put in a proper planning application like anyone can, and it’ll run its due process. I’m just a tax-paying citizen like everyone else here, entitled to a fair chance.”
“You Morgans are anything but fair. You’ve bribed, cheated and bought your way to where you are today.” Daisy said. She could feel her anger rise and the heat prickle her neck. The trip to the ravine had given her a bitter edge. She felt like she had been cornered again, but she wasn’t going to just lie down and play dead. Jazz snorted again and stomped her front leg.
“Nice horse,” Billy said, still keeping his distance.
“Why don’t you come closer so she can kick you in the ass?” Daisy replied.
Shaw rolled his eyes. He wanted Daisy to diffuse the situation, not escalate it, but it was important he didn’t get involved unless he had to. This was her land, her family heritage. She needed to establish she was in charge, not him. That would be important to her. Also he didn’t want to draw the attention of the three goons Billy had brought with him. He preferred to stay in the background, act like the subservient employee.
Shaw tried to look nowhere in particular, but he had all three men in black in front of him clocked: ex-military, all tanned and fit, probably saw recent time in Iraq or Afghanistan. Now retired from the service, but making a bucketload more money as private security contractors for the rich and influential like the Morgan family.
“What’s with the goons, Billy? You scared of me? One little old girl against three armed men?”
Shaw shrank a bit further in the saddle, slumped his shoulders, trying to look timid. If he dismounted it could be seen as an act of aggression, and the three goons would no doubt bring their weapons up. Then it could all go to hell fast.
“You pulled a gun on me, Daisy. Last night, if you remember.” Billy glared at her. Gone was all the cockiness and showboating, his eyes glazed over with pure menace.
“That was self-defense. I used reasonable force in the face of great bodily harm.”
Shaw looked at Daisy and felt somewhat surprised at her comment. She knew her rights in Kansas almost to the letter.
She continued, “We weren’t doing anything illegal, like we’re not right now. You and your brothers and that thing you brought with you last night were going to attack myself and my employee, Mr. Shaw here.”
“You pulled a damn gun on me!” Billy Morgan yelled, stepping towards Daisy.
Then three things happened simultaneously.
Shaw slid off his horse.
The three goons brought their weapons up.
And Daisy McAlister brought her Winchester up and overlaid the front sight on Billy Morgan’s forehead, her finger on the trigger.
“Just like now, Billy,” she replied, hunched behind the rifle, staring down the barrel. “Reasonable force. I’m standing my ground. Four of you against two of us, and one of us isn’t even armed, Billy. Looks bad for you.”
No one moved. One red dot on Daisy, one on Shaw, one on the horse.
“But you’ll be dead,” Billy replied, his face turning red with rage. He didn’t like having a gun pointed at him—now twice in less than twenty-four hours by the same bitch. He was the one who threatened people. No one threatened him.
“Yeh, but you’ll be dead first. Take your head clean off at this range.”
It went quiet. No one said a word for what seemed like a few minutes.
Shaw didn’t move, couldn’t, he had no weapon and they were outnumbered.
Again.
The girl's definitely got balls, he thought. Wouldn’t back down from anything when it involved the family name.
Billy Morgan seemed to be contemplating. Then he slowly nodded, turned to the three men in black and told them to lower their guns. He turned back to Daisy and smiled, but behind the smile his brain melted white hot with rage, but he contained it. Barely.
“This isn’t going to end well, this feuding between us. Between our families. It can be resolved another way.”
Daisy lowered her rifle. “I ain’t selling the ranch.” Her reply was definite.
Billy looked at Shaw, his eyes appraising him, wondering what the man was doing here. “Mr. Shaw?” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Mr. Shaw doesn’t seem to say or do much, just take orders from a woman.” Billy sneered. The three men in black sniggered to themselves.
Shaw just shrugged. “She’s the boss. I just do what she says.”
“Are you going to move or not?” Daisy said impatiently. She wanted to get back to the ranch and the cattle.
Billy pointed his finger at Daisy. “You’d better watch yourself, Daisy.” Then he pointed it at Shaw. “You too. I ain’t done with you either. You’ll see.” Then he turned and stomped back to his ATV, signaling to his men to follow. Two of the security men turned and slid back in to their ATVs, but one didn’t move at all, his eyes locked on Shaw, the same guy who had taken an interest in him before.
He nodded at Shaw, “You’re no ranch hand, son. There’s something about you. Something I don’t like. I’m going to keep a special eye out for you, if you come my way.” With that the man turned, walked back to his ATV.
The ATVs growled to life, spun in opposite circles of dust and dirt, and sped off back up the hill.
Shaw watched them until they dropped over the lip of the hill and disappeared.
21
The sun was starting to dip below the trees by the time they had finished the work for the day.
After returning to the ranch Daisy tended to the horses, then stabled them. Then she jumped on the ATV and dropped feed bales to the various paddocks. She was upbeat after the encounter with Billy Morgan and his men. She drew strength from the courage she had shown, and she knew somewhere above in the late afternoon sky her father was looking down at her smiling, proud of his daughter. Don’t give an inch to those Morgan bastards! she could almost hear him say. She drew strength from his words as she always had, but words didn’t pay the bills.
The day started with sadness for her, but had ended with a kindled courage and determination that no one was going to bully her or her ranch. Having Ben around was a good thing, it had bolstered her resolve.
She swung past the barn just in time to see him emerge wiping his hands on a dirty rag. He had spent what remaining light there was fixing the locks on all the sheds and external doors around the homestead. He’d found a box of parts in the barn.
“You nearly done?” Daisy said as she straddled the ATV, the engine idling.
Shaw nodded. “Just for the day. I don’t think I’ll ever be done even if I spend an entire year here.”
Daisy smiled. She wished he would stay for a year. It was only a few days, but she was already getting used to having him around. There was something about him that Daisy just found damn attractive. She hated guys who were arrogant and full of themselves. But Shaw had an understated confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but outwardly he rarely showed it. But it was there, like he didn’t want to show too much of himself. She owed a lot to him. Just being here for a few short days had meant a lot, just his company and the reassurance of him being around. She was going to miss him when he was gone, and she felt a sudden sadness in the pit of her stomach.
Then there was the other thing, the other night in the bunkhouse. She had never felt so alive as a woman in all her life.
She looked up at him and he just stood there, his dark brown eyes looking at her. He had given her a lot of confidence in the last few days and she wanted more.
“I’ve texted Callie, she’ll be over by seven. She just finished work and wants to get freshened up before coming over. She’ll bring the pizza and I’ll provide the beer, if that’s okay with you?”
“F
ine by me.” Shaw replied. He didn’t own a cell phone anymore, had got rid of it before he started his road trip. Didn’t see much use for one anymore. He had no one to call and he didn’t want anyone to know where he was. He was “off the grid” and he intended to stay like that for a very long time.
“She wanted to know if you were still here. I said yes. So she definitely wanted to come by.”
Shaw raised a questioning eyebrow.
“I better set her straight when she comes,” Daisy said with a mischievous little grin. Then she dropped her eyes to the front of his dusty jeans, cursing herself for the momentary lapse. There was an outline behind the denim of his jeans, near the crotch and she felt her throat contract.
“Set her straight about what?” Shaw asked, already knowing.
Daisy looked up, her cheeks flushed. “Did you mean what you said today?” she asked, ignoring his question. “About me being your boss? About doing what I say?”
Shaw nodded, “I work for you. That makes you my boss, I guess.”
Daisy paused for a moment, looking at Shaw from top to bottom then back again. They had about an hour before Callie would arrive. “Good, now that we’ve got that settled I want you to strip out of those filthy clothes and wait in the shower for me.”
Daisy revved the engine and skidded off in a cloud of dust, leaving Shaw looking on, a faint smile across his lips.
* * *
Steam enveloped them, strands of white condensation that moved, formed then broke apart again.
Daisy stood behind Shaw, a stream of scorching water falling like a monsoon on both of their bodies as she soaped and lathered him. She was fascinated by it. It felt like a thick rod in her soapy hand as she reached around him to stroke it back and forth, a colorful emulsion of froth and suds coating it as she rubbed harder.
“It’s not a toy,” Shaw said, as he gave a slight wince. Daisy tended to be slightly aggressive with it. “Be gentle,” he said over his shoulder.
