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Stream Ran Dry

Page 3

by Jeanne Harrell


  “I guess I could agree with that,” said Tim sheepishly. “I’m a city boy through and through.”

  “…And that’s fine with us,” replied Rob.

  “…Although,” Rebecca admired the view around her, “I was raised in a small rural area similar to this and I find it all…” She stopped to look directly into Mary and Rob’s open faces. “… wonderful…”

  Mary blinked and Rob coughed. That wasn’t a normal response from a city slicker. Mary scratched her forehead.

  “And thank you for allowing us to spend the night here. I just don’t think I’d like to attempt the return trip at night. I probably couldn’t find my way back.”

  “Yes,” agreed Tim. “That was extremely nice of you. The paper will pay if it’s any inconvenience to you.”

  They were already shaking their heads. “No… No… We wouldn’t hear of being paid. We’re just happy to be able to host this little gathering this evening.”

  “Yes,” said Rebecca looking out the front window. “Will the other ranchers be arriving pretty soon?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Rob. “We’re going to feed everyone and then have your interview out on the back porch where it’ll be cool and comfortable.”

  Rebecca didn’t doubt that. The whole ranch was cool and comfortable, and someplace she’d like to stay longer. Baby steps…

  After a little more socializing, Rob took Tim out to show him the horses, while Rebecca went into the kitchen with Mary to help with the evening meal.

  “I hope you haven’t fixed anything too difficult for us, Mary. It’s so nice of you to feed us as well.”

  Mary patted her hand. “Now there. Don’t you worry about anything. We’ve got it already grilled and there’s lots of side dishes to share. It’s just country cooking, but we like it.”

  Rebecca smiled – She was doing that a lot in this home. She was more comfortable than she ever thought she’d be and practically melted around Mary Carson, who was very much like her mother. Same light gray hair with steel blue eyes that looked right through her. She could almost guess that Mary knew her life story by osmosis. Relaxed, Rebecca bustled around the kitchen spooning potato salad into a huge bowl and slicing watermelon. She was taking dishes out to the large dining room table when Clint and Wyatt arrived.

  The men walked in the front door with no warning and startled Rebecca. She blinked quickly as they strode briskly into the kitchen, both of them staring at her. She felt pretty foolish holding onto a plate of watermelon slices, like it was a lifeline. Her relaxed feeling fled and she stood there trying to gather her thoughts, getting more nervous.

  “Mary!” yelled the first cowboy with a mustache and a quick smile. He seemed all right, but her movements became jittery when the second cowboy walked in behind him.

  Tall and handsome with curious eyes that followed her as he walked… He looked like some kind of rodeo star from a magazine cover she’d seen once. Heart-shaped, clean-shaven face, tanned from working outdoors, rugged jeans, worn boots and a light blue shirt that set off those cool, blue eyes. He didn’t smile or call out for Mary – All he did was look at her, like she’d never been looked at before. Whew… The plate was getting heavy.

  “Let me take that for you,” he drawled, obviously reading her mind. Deep voice that reached down into the fathoms of her soul… Wow…

  In two strides, he was close up now, standing stock-still and clutching the plate of watermelon slices. Rebecca hadn’t let go of it either, so they both had their hands on the plate. His eyes blinked a few times and he continued to stare…

  Long, brown hair slightly curled with soft bangs framing her beautiful face. Pretty eyes the color of chocolate stared back at him. Her city clothes of dark slacks and lacy blouse did nothing to hide her shapely figure. She was lovely – Clint had told him she was, but seeing her in front of him nearly took his breath away. Wyatt finally swallowed and spoke.

  “I’ve got it. You can let go.”

  “Okay…”

  In the kitchen, Clint and Mary had seen it all with slow smiles advancing across their faces. As soon as Wyatt could break off his stare at Rebecca, he walked into the kitchen with the watermelon. Mary almost laughed at him.

  “Give it back to Rebecca… She was putting it on the table for me.” She grinned at him as Wyatt’s chagrin became obvious.

  He took the plate back to Rebecca and gave it to her. Taking off his hat, he said, “Rebecca, is it?”

  “Yes.” She took the plate and set it down on the table. Then she reached over a hand. “Rebecca Sawyer and you are?” Soft voice that reached out to gently stroke his face.

  He extended a hand as well. “Wyatt Washburn.” Their handshake was solid, unwavering.

  “You and your friend must be the other ranchers we’re expecting for the interview.”

  He cleared his throat. “That would be me and Clint Foster.”

  Clint walked up behind Wyatt, took off his hat and extended his hand. “Ma’am. Nice to meet you. Thanks for coming all the way out here.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Mr. Foster.”

  “Clint, please.”

  And there were no more glimpses from Wyatt and Rebecca. She stole a glance at him just as he stole a glance at her. They both freaked out… She swirled on her Superwoman cape to back him off, just as he threw up a defense barrier. Clint and Mary watched flabbergasted as Rebecca and Wyatt physically backed away from one another and retreated to the outer edges of the room.

  Tim and Rob walked in the house with Tim enthusing about the horses he just saw.

  “Rebecca, you should see the beautiful horses out back. Rob’s been training some wild mustangs…”

  “Okay, how about we go see them now...” She started walking out the door when Rob touched her arm.

  “Darlin’, I think we’re about to eat dinner. Maybe later?”

  It was obvious to all that she was trying to escape the present company. Wyatt was staring at the floor now. After proper introductions all around, Mary showed everyone where to sit at their large dining room table.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Wyatt hung back, as Mary seated everyone, hoping to sit as far away from Rebecca as he possibly could. His strategy didn’t work – Mary put him right across the table from her. He was sure he wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.

  With her confident smile and head high, he decided to suck it up… If she could take it, he could take it. Yeah… She just surprised him and who can’t take a surprise or two? Wyatt would just get through dinner – somehow – and do the interview – somehow – and get home as fast as his truck could get him there… to safety… Wyatt felt instinctively that he was in some kind of danger with Rebecca Sawyer. His flight mechanism was working overtime…

  Meanwhile, as the plates of food were being passed around, Rebecca’s mind clouded. She thought maybe he kinda liked her when they first met and now he was acting like a horse’s ass. She was sure they used that expression out here too… Rebecca had a funny feeling that Wyatt wanted to escape this evening as much as she did, which helped her to relax a little. She’d interviewed far more unpleasant people than Wyatt Washburn. And with that thought and the Superwoman cape, Rebecca went into professional mode. She sat up straight and exuded confidence.

  She tuned back in when Tim was explaining the interview process.

  “…So we created a series of questions for you just to gauge your thoughts and feelings about the situation over in Allenville.”

  “…A series?” asked Clint as he helped himself to a piece of smoked brisket.

  “Well, maybe not a series,” Tim replied, “as much as a few questions that are linked to one anther.”

  “What do you plan to do with this information?” asked Mary. She passed the green beans to Wyatt.

  Rebecca fielded that one. “Our editor wants to run an Op-Ed piece in the Sunday opinion page. Some title like ‘Another Man’s Views’ or something like that. She smiled at Mary and accepted the mashed potatoes passe
d to her by Rob.

  “Maybe we don’t want our opinions in the newspaper,” Wyatt spoke up.

  “…Then why did you agree to the interview?” she asked him.

  “Circumstances and blackmail, ma’am…” He looked sternly at Clint who shrugged.

  “You don’t have to be interviewed if you don’t want to be,” Rebecca replied curtly. “No one is twisting your arm. You’re free to leave…” And the sooner the better...

  Somehow that pissed him off. Some little filly from the city telling him to get lost, so he dug in his heels… Wyatt narrowed his eyes at her. “I think I’ll stay, if you don’t mind, ma’am.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “…Whatever you want.” And paid him no more attention. She brightly kept up her share of the conversation with Clint, Rob, Mary and Tim, but practically scowled any time she glanced at him.

  Wyatt could be pretty mulish too and had decided she wouldn’t get the best of him. He chatted more with the group as he cheerfully ate the delicious dinner. Anytime he glanced her way, his behavior registered disinterest.

  Mary was trying not to laugh at them both. She and Rob had been good friends with Wyatt and Missy for years. They were there for him when Missy got sick and they were there for him when she died. Now Mary looked around, smelled the good food in front of her and marveled that the world moved in mysterious ways.

  All she knew was that their good friend, Wyatt, after all he’d been through the last few years, was obviously taken with a beautiful city slicker from Vegas. Who could have guessed that one? She was hoping he wouldn’t mess it up too badly because Mary could tell that Rebecca liked him too. Her bright polish was covering up how she really felt… This might be a whole lot of fun, she thought.

  After dinner, Rebecca helped Mary to bring the dishes into the kitchen, but then Mary shooed her out.

  “Go on out to the porch, dear, and get set up for your interview.”

  “Are you sure, Mary? I can help you and then we can get started.”

  “…No…no…Go on. These dishes won’t take much work and it’s getting close to twilight. You’ll lose the light then.”

  “…Good point,” she nodded. “We need the light to gauge their facial expressions and reactions.”

  “I thought so. We’ll have coffee later.”

  So Rob got everyone seated out on the back porch in comfortable chairs. Tim set up a tape recorder and fussed with his papers. Rebecca took out a notebook from a bag she’d brought, opened it and calmly waited for Tim to finish his preparations. They’d discussed in the car on the way how they wanted to do the interview, and what questions they wanted to ask.

  “Do any of you mind being tape recorded?” asked Tim looking from man to man.

  All three men shook their heads. Wyatt glanced at Rebecca and saw only a cool, professional exterior. Just for a second, he wistfully missed the spontaneous looks she gave him when they first met. Those looks were soft and sweet – a layer that she apparently buried when she was working. But he had caught a glimpse and wished he could see those looks again… And then Rebecca began the interview.

  “Let’s begin with Mr. Carson… Rob, what exactly do you think is going on down in Allenville?”

  “A rancher there, Gareth Howard, hasn’t been paying the grazing fees on land that he rents from the BLM to graze his herd of cattle.”

  “And why hasn’t he been paying?”

  “He’s decided that the grazing land is owned by the state of Nevada and not the federal government.”

  “What do you think about that?”

  “I think he’s interpreting the state constitution a little differently.”

  “Mr. Foster, could you explain a bit more?”

  “Sure. Back when Lincoln granted statehood to Nevada, he did it with the understanding that Nevada would give up ownership rights to the federal land – Which is what happened. The federal government owns about 87% of land in Nevada which has been managed by the Bureau of Land Management ever since then.”

  “So what is Mr. Howard’s problem?” she asked Clint.

  “I can take that one,” broke in Wyatt. Rebecca nodded at him.

  “Basically, he’s upset that he lost some grazing land because that area was sanctuary of the desert tortoise. It was put on the Endangered Species List, so it’s a protected species on the range. He might have lost that grazing land, but he never took his cows off it. So the BLM is now charging him for back grazing fees.”

  “Why didn’t the BLM take care of this problem twenty years ago, when it first happened?”

  “That’s a very good question. I don’t think we know that answer.”

  “So,” she continued with Wyatt, “what would you do in this situation?”

  “Well, before violence breaks out, I’d do some kind of summit between ranchers, environmental people and experts in range management. There’s more at stake here than just the tortoise… We also have wild mustangs, sage grouse and other plants and wildlife to consider.”

  “…A summit?” she asked. The inflection in her voice was one of disbelief...

  “…Why the hell not?” Wyatt’s eyes blazed.

  “Okay now,” broke in Rob. “Let’s not get too excited here.”

  “And what about the police who have showed up to deal with all the groups that are present?”

  “What about them?”

  “Should they leave and let these people do what they want?”

  Wyatt and Rebecca had scooted their chairs closer to one another with each question. She was close enough to spit in his eye. Clint thought the whole atmosphere was charged with something other than an interview about the Allenville situation.

  “Okay, now,” began Clint. “Let’s just everyone take a breath here.”

  “Yes,” agreed Tim glancing at Rebecca’s flushed face. He too wondered what was going on since she was always such a cool customer in all the interviews he’d seen her do. This guy Washburn had gotten under her skin for some reason.

  “Mr. Carson, if I may. How do local people feel about some of these militant groups who have camped out in support of Mr. Howard?”

  “We’re all getting very concerned that some kind of violence could break out. Many of these people are not from around here and are from prominent hate groups around the country. It’s getting to be a local concern…”

  Wyatt and Rebecca continued to glare at one another, until he’d obviously had enough. He suddenly got up from his chair.

  “That’s all I have to say. Nice to meet you, Tim, ma’am…” Wyatt walked into the kitchen thanking Mary for dinner, picked up his hat and continued to walk right out of the house.

  Rebecca’s jaw dropped at his abrupt departure and couldn’t believe his rudeness. She was glad he was gone and then in the next second, wished he hadn’t left. For the first time in a long time, Rebecca felt like she’d botched the interview.

  Clint rose from his seat as well.

  “Sorry, Rebecca… Tim, but that’s my ride. I’ve got to go too. It was nice to meet you both. I look forward to reading your article on Sunday.” And he left with Wyatt.

  Rebecca and Tim were left sitting with Rob whose eyebrows were just beginning to drop down from his hairline. It had been an interesting evening, that’s for sure. Rob glanced up at Mary smiling at him from the doorway and confusion registered on his face.

  “I guess that’s it, Rebecca. Sorry the interview didn’t end on a happier note.” Rob looked from Rebecca to Tim for confirmation.

  “Right you are, Rob, but thank you for your contribution,” smiled Tim. “I’m sure we’ll have something here that we can use. Right, Rebecca?”

  She dumbly nodded and left the porch to splash some water on her face in the bathroom. When she came out, Rob had showed Tim where he was sleeping in the bunkhouse for the night. Mary was waiting for her with two poured cups of coffee. She handed one to Rebecca and tilted her head toward the back porch.

  “Come on, dear. Let’s have a nightcap
together.” They were seated outside when Rob stuck his head out.

  “’Night, Rebecca. Mary will show you the guest room when you’re ready. I’m turning in and so has Tim.”

  “Thanks, Rob and goodnight…”

  Rebecca took a sip of the delicious cowboy coffee, strong stuff… and glanced over at Mary who was watching her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Where are you from, Rebecca? I bet there’s an interesting story here.”

  She shook her head. “…Of no interest, I assure you.”

  “All of us have interesting stories. I’ll tell you a little about Wyatt, if you’ll tell me a bit about yourself. What makes you tick, dear?”

  And just like that, Rebecca was back in her mother’s kitchen talking out a problem and eating freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. She could even smell the baking cookie dough.

  “Well, I’m not sure I want to hear about Mr. Washburn…”

  “…But…”

  She shrugged. “I grew up on a small ranch by Portola, California. It looked so much like this area, except for a few more trees maybe.” She took a sip of her coffee and Mary nodded for her to continue.

  “Why do you want to hear this, Mary?”

  “…Because I think you want to talk, dear. Don’t you?”

  Rebecca looked into Mary’s sincere face and her eyes filled with tears.

  “My parents were wonderful. It was just the three of us… I had a lovely childhood and probably would have stayed in that area, but…”

  A tear rolled down her cheek. Then another…”They were…both… killed in a car crash three years ago. Drunk driver got them head-on.” Mary reached out to grasp her hand while Rebecca looked blankly at her cup. “I relive that day over and over when a highway patrol officer came to tell me they had been killed.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “After I buried them, I buried my feelings as well. There was a small life insurance policy that they’d left me. I took it, moved to Las Vegas and went to work for the newspaper. I’ve worked very hard to become an investigative reporter.”

 

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