Ranch Rivalry

by Gray Gardner

  Case’s black digital watch beeped. She looked down and noticed that it was already six. By eight it would be dark, and she wasn’t sure she’d be back home by then. Luckily, again, she could make her way blindfolded, but she still worried about things like snakes and stray bullets from an angry Blackhill. She finally hit a familiar fence and turned north in an opening, feeling a cool evening breeze swoosh through the lane as she walked on the light colored dirt and grass.

  A twig snapped.

  She paused and lifted her head, frowning as she stood very still. Her property couldn’t have been more than a hundred yards ahead. Wait… was that right? She couldn’t be entirely certain of her location. Another twig snapped. She was in a clearing in the lane between the trees and the fence. No twigs.

  Leaves rustled.

  She frantically looked right and left. Oh no. If a Blackhill spotted her on his land, he’d shoot her for sure. She wasn’t ready to die. She had important things to do in her life! Fight or flight… or hide? Hand to hand combat seemed futile since Blackhills were notoriously tall and she was as vertically challenged as they come. Flight was out because, although she was fast, she could not outrun a speeding bullet. The live oak trees around her had trunks like the legs of a giraffe. No low brush. There was absolutely no possible way she could effectively hide.

  Why didn’t she just stick to the public county road?

  After more sounds came from the distance she decided to just give it a whirl and dove behind the straightest tree trunk she could find, slapping her hands at her sides, and sucking in as she stood sideways. Be the tree. You are the tree.

  “Who’s there?” a deep voice demanded to know in a loud, annoyed tone.

  She held her breath. I’m just a tree.

  “I can see your pony tail and white tennis shoes,” the voice announced, leaning more towards annoyed and less towards anger. She’d take irritated over fury any day… especially with her historically adversarial neighbors.

  “I don’t like waiting.”

  Damn it. There was no avoiding it any longer. She took the tree trunk in her hands and slowly poked her head around, her lungs deflating and threatening to never refill again. She forced a short breath and slowly took in the person who’d caught her. A large, shiny black horse stood in the lane, stomping its front hoof every now and then, and causing the packed yellow dirt to fly up in little dust clouds.

  Its rider sat perfectly still with perfect posture. His well-worn brown boots, crisp dark Levis patched with dust, starched tan shirt, and a matching tan straw hat, curled at the edges from years of wear and tear, made him an impressive vision. Pulled low over his eyes, the shadow from the Stetson only allowed her to see the faint hint of whiskers and a strong jaw line. In his left hand, he held the reins very firmly. In his right hand, he held a long rifle quite ominously.

  “Get out here,” he commanded harshly.

  Maybe if she stood still he would go away. She could pretend that English was her second language… or that she was deaf. She couldn’t just give herself up and walk out into the open on Blackhill property. She’d heard they killed trespassers all the time and buried them under the barn. Adam Thorne had said so and he’d been on the property before on his paper route.

  “Come on out, you’re caught.” She heard him sigh heavily and load a round into the rifle’s chamber. The metal click churned her insides.

  Swallowing so hard she was certain she’d bruised her esophagus, she stepped around the tree and paused next to it, head down. She slowly eyed three possible escape routes through the woods if he decided to actually aim his weapon in her general direction.

  “Look at me. What’s your name?”

  She scratched her head where loose wisps fluttered around her face. Oh God. If she looked at him, he’d know exactly who she was. McCanns had light brown hair and bright green eyes lined with long, dark lashes, a widely known family trait. It actually looked fairly average on her, but had given her brothers quite an advantage in the dating department. They’d made a name for themselves with the unique look, but that unique look would unfortunately totally give her away to a Blackhill.

  “I told you to look at me and tell me your name. This is private property. You have five seconds to comply.”

  Good God, would he really shoot her? There was no one around to witness… anything. She was at his mercy and she hated feeling that way. The clicking of his rifle echoed in her head. Digging her hands into the worn pockets of her brother’s old jeans, she kicked around at the dead leaves and finally turned her eyes up to meet his. They both furrowed their brows at the instant recognition of one another.

  “You’re the McCann girl,” he loudly stated, sounding surprised and tipping his hat up to get a better look.

  “You’re Halston Blackhill,” she choked, saying something for the first time and wishing that her voice hadn’t cracked. She’d been certain it was just a chance run-in with one of the distant Blackhill cousins who worked the land.

  But it was Halston Blackhill. He’d been somewhere between Jackson’s grade and Townes’ grade, and his story had been quite opposite. As an only child, when his parents had died in the plane crash, he had to return home right at the beginning of his junior year at Harvard. He never got to graduate, had to leave behind his dreams of becoming a doctor, and was forced to care for all 35,000 acres of Blackhill land, as well as his ailing grandparents in a nursing home.

  And he was bitter. No one in town liked Halston Blackhill. They cowered in fear if he ever ran into the grocery store or barbershop. Tizzy hid and cried in the vault every time he made a transaction at the bank. No one knew exactly how many people he’d killed on his land, but the rumor was that it was in the double digits.

  His perpetual bad mood seemed to hover around him like a black aura. Case swallowed again.

  “What are you, spying on us?” he suddenly asked, swinging his leg over the horse and jumping to the ground, marching forward and reaching her in five steps.

  She stood frozen with fear. He was at least two heads taller than her, looked more than angry, and he had a gun. Oh God, she wanted to be buried in 60 years in her family’s plot, not that night under his tractor in the barn.

  “Say something, damn it!” he ordered, taking another step. The anger had reached his eyes. Steam might have been shooting out of his ears. It was hard to be certain since every organ in her body numbed with trepidation at his overpowering presence.

  “W-what?” she choked, flinching and closing her eyes for a second, trying to regain her senses.

  “You’re suddenly interested in our Wagyu beef now, is that it?” he asked, shoving his rifle stock against her and pushing her back into a tree, pinning her as he held both ends of the gun. His shirt was tight around his broad shoulders. If she remembered correctly, he was kind of a soft kid who didn’t play any sports. When did the muscles come into play?

  She grunted as she grabbed the rifle and fruitlessly pushed back as the long barrel pinned her against the rough bark of the tree. After assessing his physique, his strength did not surprise her. At least the dangerous end of the gun wasn’t pressing against her.

  Time to answer him. “No, I just…”

  “Restaurants will pay double for this beef at the stockyards and we’re the first to breed them in Texas. So, what, you think the McCanns can get in on the action? You think you have the know-how and the resources to not only find this particular breed of cow in Japan, but ship them over and keep them healthy, too? Huh? Is a McCann suddenly speechless? Forgive my astonishment but listen to this. You’re living in a fantasy, Kiddo.”

  Of all the arrogant…

  “Okay!” she rumbled through clenched teeth, ducking down and letting the rifle push against the tree trunk as she shuffled aside and glared up at him. She rubbed her hand across her collar. “First of all, Halston, my name is Case, and I am not a kid.”

  At first, he gave a surprised look at her agility, and then leaned back as she suddenly got an
attitude. He towered over her as he threw the rifle over his shoulder and let it rest there as he waited for the rest, intrigued. People rarely spoke to him, let alone argued with him.

  “Second, you are so arrogant to think that I want or need to spy on you! I don’t give a crap about your Japanese beef or whatever! And if you knew me at all, you’d know that I don’t give a crap about anything down here! I’m here to check on my brother, and then I’m back to my science internship, okay?”

  He squinted in the sinking sun and considered what she’d just said. All he’d ever done was fight McCanns about property lines and right of ways and easements. He was prepared to go all the way to fight them on his new venture. It was costing him too much to not fight. He knew the McCanns, though. They were likable and used to getting their way. Was she lying? How could she not care about any of it with a family like that?

  He cleared his throat as she stared up at him with outraged fists on her hips.

  “So then what the hell are you doing in the middle of my property?” he asked, turning and shoving the gun back into his saddle straps. He glanced at her over his shoulder as he waited for an answer. She visibly shrank inside herself as she rubbed her hands and looked at the ground.

  “My car broke down so I thought I’d… take a shortcut.” It sounded bad as she heard it come out of her mouth.

  “Through Blackhill land?” he smirked, an incredulous look on his face.

  Yes, it was dumb, but he didn’t have to ridicule her. Not him. She defensively pulled her shoulders back and chin up.

  “It’s over six miles to the gate from back there!” she protested, pointing her thumb over her shoulder.

  Now the arrogant shoe was on the other foot. It didn’t matter if she was just a kid, she needed to hear what he had to say.

  “Do you have any idea what your family has done to mine? Do you even know why we hate each other? Are you aware of why I am seething with anger just looking at you standing on my property right now?”

  Case licked her lips as she looked up at his dark gray eyes, glaring down at her. The Blackhills hated everyone but they especially had a deep-rooted rivalry that was extremely unfriendly with the McCanns. She had no clue as to why. The only thing she’d ever heard during her childhood included phrases like, “We don’t talk to Blackhills,” or “That Blackhill boy will be there,” or a variation of a scathing remark towards their neighbor.

  Furious couldn’t even begin to describe the look on his face. And so, cue the sarcasm, a mechanism she’d successfully used to defuse situations at school. “Did my dad try and steal your foreign cow idea?” she asked, a subtle hint of mockery in her voice as she kept the look on her face very even. She raised a defiant eyebrow at him as she put her hands on her hips.

  “It goes back a little further than that,” he murmured, shaking his head. Why was she trying to be cute? If she’d been anything other than a little girl, he’d have shot the ground at her feet and chased her screaming off the property. If she’d been one of her brothers, he’d have pistol-whipped her by now. Neither were viable options, of course, judging from her innocence. He’d have to find another way to edify this audacious little girl.

  Good God, she just wanted to get out of there without any buckshot in her and get home so that she could yell at Jackson. She’d had three days and a long plane ride to make up scenarios in her head about what he was doing, where he was doing it, and what she was going to say to him. This Blackhill situation was all so… distracting. He was intimidating, sure, but there was something else about him.

  Finally, sighing heavily, she held her arms out and slapped her hands at her sides.

  “Fine, then. It goes back further than I can understand. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’ll get going,” she sneered, gesturing around his horse.

  “You think I’m just gonna let you walk away?” he asked, holding up his hands. Not with their past. He may have had encounters with her brothers in town over the years but he’d never interfaced with her. She was tremendously overconfident to actually believe that he’d just let her walk away. He knew she had to be up to something no good. Her last name was McCann.

  “So, okay, my family did something to yours a million years ago. So, what do you want, reparations?” she asked, this time hurling all of the sarcasm her 5’2” frame could send in a single sentence. If he was going to bring up the past, then she’d certainly fight back.

  He stared down at her for a second, then finally widened his eyes and nodded.

  “Actually, yeah,” he agreed, reaching out for her. He consented to her own suggestion with something in mind that would really scare her. He’d been in plenty of violent fights with her brothers resulting in busted lips and black eyes, but he couldn’t very well hit a girl. Could he?

  She backed away very quickly, tripping over her feet and suddenly finding herself pushing off the dried, yellow patches of grass, ready to run down the road. Why was he suddenly grabbing for her? Was he going to make her eat the barrel of his rifle? Then she saw it. The water tank, sitting there at the fence, glistening in the sunset. Uh-oh.

  Would he try to drown her, like his grandfather had done to Henry Hanover so many years before? She turned and gave him a panicked look. It was a ridiculous thing to assume… wasn’t it?

  “Consider this your upper school lesson in property lines and management,” he grunted, grabbing a handful of her shirt and pulling her the twenty or so feet to the tank. She’d been gaping up at him with scared green eyes. Certainly, this would teach her.

  “Wait, wait, wait!” she hollered, pulling back with everything she had. She couldn’t believe this was about to happen to her.

  A week ago, she’d been sitting very undemonstratively in her upper school assembly hall, ready to present her senior paper about the benefits of federal funding for cross-pollenating common crops. The next day she’d walked across the traditional Franklin Gardens in her cap and gown to receive her diploma.

  Now she was going to be drowned by the psycho, next door neighbor in the middle of nowhere.

  She didn’t care about his ranch, or his Japanese cows, or even her own ranch and cattle. She twisted around and wrapped her hands around the arm that was holding the back of her shirt, looking desperately up at him. “Please…”

  “Like I said,” he replied, reaching the circular water tank and sitting on the fat concrete ledge that stood up a couple of feet. He grabbed a handful of the front of her shirt and pulled down so that her face was inches from the algae topped water. “This is a lesson in Blackhill-McCann property supervision.”

  The breath left her lungs as her body slammed into his legs. She was about to start pleading for her life when she realized he wasn’t pushing down on her head. Her face remained dry, inches above the dark water and green algae. His hand was pushing down in the middle of her back. He wasn’t trying to drown her.

  So was what he really doing? Trying to scare her into compliance? He was so strong and obviously unbalanced so she really couldn’t figure out what he hoped to accomplish by forcing her face to hover above an old tank for watering cattle. Was this the lesson?

  The reality turned out to be much worse than her imagination.

  She turned her head over her shoulder to inform him that he’d thoroughly scared her and the lesson had been learned when she saw his hand raised above his head.

  “Oh shit! No, wait, I can explain!” she quickly yelled, far more apt to defend herself than she’d been only minutes before. She pushed her hands awkwardly against his strong leg but he held her down almost effortlessly with one imposing hand. Okay, no escape. She didn’t want to beg really, so a good explanation was in order. The next few words she spat out very quickly. “I can’t reach Jackson, and my car broke down, and my other brothers have lives of their own, so the responsibility kind of falls on me…”

  She’d found herself in a situation like this only once before in her lifetime. Joel and Townes had caught her chasing a lame fawn onto the Blackhil
l property when she was about 14 and had physically expressed how scared they’d been that a Blackhill might have shot her by dragging her back to the house and paddling her with an old ping-pong paddle. She’d never forgotten how scared they’d looked, or how scared she’d been of the both of them at that moment. She’d also steered clear of Blackhill land until that very day. Actually, she’d forgotten all about that until the sudden influx of memories came to the forefront of her mind as she kicked her feet and tried to find something to push off of.

  Now, in this moment, Halston Blackhill had her terrified. Was he kidding? He wouldn’t dare. She knew all about him though they’d never even really met. She’d seen him once at the post office and a couple of times driving through town, people leaning in and whispering as he passed. Everyone around those parts knew her brothers and loved them, though no one really knew her that well. She’d been gone at school for years, and preferred the anonymity. No, she was a total stranger to him and he’d never go through with it. He was just trying to scare her.

  He smacked his hand against the back of her jeans. Hard. She winced, closed her eyes, and kicked her legs, but she really had nowhere to go under his firm grip. She grabbed handfuls of his jeans and tried not to give away how much it hurt as he kept going. She finally had nothing left to do but open her mouth and vocalize a defeated whimper.

  “P-please.”

  Surprisingly, he stopped.

  “Okay,” he groaned, standing up as he held the back of her shirt. She wobbled around a little as she brushed her hair out of her face, ponytail askew, totally shocked.

  “Time to take you home. I’m sure your big brothers will be happy to hear that I found you stalking around my property. Won’t they.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she stared up at him, still holding the back of her shirt and pulling her along as he walked. How could he have possibly have known about the fawn or what her brothers had done? And, more importantly, had this really just happened to her? Her white shirt bunched up under her arms as he pulled her along to his horse. Her body moved because he forced her to walk, but she couldn’t say a thing. She was just… stunned.