Marrying the Rancher

by Roz Denny Fox

  “Lord willing,” he said around a hefty expelled breath.

  With the fire road muddier than expected, Wyatt had to slow down. They bounced over deep ruts.

  Manny awaited them on horseback at the end of the road.

  “Scotty, I want you and Mr. Bones to stay in the pickup while we move Stormtrooper.”

  “Aww, why can’t I help?”

  “It’s really important that you keep Mr. Bones from barking and scaring the bull,” Wyatt told the boy.

  “Okay.”

  Tandy climbed out. “Manny, did you open the gate?”

  “Not yet. Didn’t want the heifers running out. I’ll do it now.” He rode off.

  Wyatt joined Tandy at the back of the trailer.

  “You always seem to say the right thing to Scotty. He was building up to pitch a fit over my telling him to stay in the cab.”

  “I don’t mean to step on your toes. He’s eager to help so I suggested a job.”

  “I admire your quick thinking,” she said as she unlocked the trailer.

  Talk stopped when Manny returned on foot. “I tied my horse to a tree. Let’s get this bad boy on his way. He’s a beauty,” the old cowboy said, stepping aside as Wyatt backed the big animal down the ramp. “See his nostrils flare? He smells the heifers, some of whom are in heat. Driving him into the pen’s gonna be a snap.”

  And he was right. The three formed their triangle, but the bull beelined through the open gate. Manny started to swing it shut.

  Wyatt stayed him. “Wait a sec. I want to see where you say the fence was down. Tandy, close the gate behind me. I’ll climb over when I come back. I’m interested to see why there are no tracks.”

  “Can Scotty go, too?” Tandy posed the question to Wyatt.

  “Sure. You keep the dog leashed. This won’t take long. I know everyone’s hungry.”

  Tandy motioned to her son, who eagerly joined them. She took Mr. Bones’s leash.

  Scotty happily smiled at his mom and casually slipped his hand in Wyatt’s. The pair followed Manny over a footbridge and he pointed out the two sections.

  Wyatt bent to inspect them. “If you hadn’t told me these were down yesterday, I’d have missed seeing these wood chips around the post bases. Someone recently worked on this fence.”

  “I counted at least eighty head of Hicks’s cows along the stream on Tandy’s lease. Do you see hoofprints anywhere along the muddy bank?”

  “I don’t,” Scotty said.

  The boy scrambled alongside Wyatt as he walked a short distance then returned to say, “I believe someone dragged burlap over the ground before it rained.” Going to the fence, Wyatt vaulted across. “Come see this.” He hoisted Scotty over and let Manny traverse on his own.

  “What are we looking at?” the old man asked, puffing as he glanced around.

  Taking out his cell phone, Wyatt shot photos of the ground. “No tracks on Tandy’s lease, but plenty here. All run the width of the double fence section.” He straightened. “Look closely. All tracks lead away from the stream, uphill to Hicks’s ranch. And here, three sets of boots. So three people were involved. Question is, why?”

  Manny shook his head.

  Scotty said, “Gosh, Wyatt, now I see, too. Was one the bad man?”

  “I don’t know.” They walked back and he boosted Scotty back over the fence, then he assisted Manny before climbing back himself. They recrossed the footbridge. “Tandy said maybe Preston is trying to mess with your minds. Tomorrow I’ve got to trail my wolves. It’ll be up to you three to watch for anything else out of the ordinary.”

  Hearing Wyatt’s last edict, Tandy hugged him and Manny. “I’m lucky you two have my back. The most I can offer by way of thanks is lunch.” To her surprise, Manny also accepted.

  Chapter Seven

  Wyatt loaded his backpack with equipment and left the next morning moments before light illuminated the peaks. He drove to a spot where the road ended at a campground. In full but cloudy daylight, he set out on foot to find his wolf pack.

  His mind was only partly on his mission because his thoughts kept drifting to yesterday at Tandy’s. A simple meal of soup and sandwiches shouldn’t have felt special, but it had. Perhaps it was the family atmosphere. They’d all talked and joked while eating. Scotty filled Manny in on the trip.

  After supper Wyatt had helped Tandy clear the table and load the dishwasher while Manny, like a grandfather, retired to the living room and taught Scotty to play checkers. Looking back, it was as if Tandy and he could’ve been married. In fact, he’d stolen a kiss and she hadn’t pushed him away.

  His own family had been so fractured. His grandmother had provided a roof over his head and food in his belly, but she’d never welcomed his friends. So it’d be a stretch to call her old house home. He wanted more when he settled down.

  As he wove through underbrush looking for wolf tracks, it struck him that he’d always wanted more.

  What if that more was Tandy and Scotty and he left it all behind for his job? If he tossed in Manny as a grandpa, the scale tilted ever more one-sided.

  On the other side of the scale were wolf projects in numerous states. The fact Scotty begged to go with him in search of the pack seemed to him what most boys would do. It’s what he did as a boy. But he could tell Scotty’s insistence frightened Tandy. Maybe he needed to taper off their tracking practices.

  He ran across the first wolf signs and stuffed all prior thoughts into a corner. The pack had moved lower than was safe for them or for ranchers’ cattle. Quite likely the late snowfall, especially with thunder and lightning, had driven one or both families down the mountain in search of food and shelter.

  He came to a clearing where wolves had fed on an elderly elk. Softening his steps, he readied his dart gun seconds before his homing device went crazy. Noting tracks curving around a boulder, he followed them and sighted a collared male, a female and three pups. He tranquilized the adults, but took care to remain vigilant for the second pair. He thought four adults had fed at the downed elk.

  The pups were too cute. All appeared healthy. He took photos, replaced radio telemetry collars on the adults and installed them on the youngsters after vaccinations. Retreating deeper into the woods, he climbed a tree to wait. From this perch he could be sure the tranquilized animals woke up.

  All at once his phone rang. The tune blared loudly in the silent forest and scared a couple of woodpeckers from an adjacent tree. It wasn’t easy finding the phone in his pack while perched in a tree fork.

  Seeing Tandy’s number in the readout, his stomach balled. He imagined she’d only disturb him at his work if something bad had happened. “Tandy, what’s wrong?” he demanded, trying to watch the wolves while curbing his panic.

  “Where are you?” She was plainly trying to whisper.

  “A mile and a half off the hiking trail above Eagle Creek. Why?”

  “Preston Hicks and two men are at my lease looking for you. They claim a wolf killed one of Rollie Jefferies’s heifers this morning. Scotty’s beside himself over them ranting that you have to leave and they’re going to rid the area of the wolves.”

  “Where is the Jefferies ranch?” Wyatt’s stomach bottomed out, not in fear for himself, but his second wolf family.

  “A good twenty miles south of Spiritridge.” She gave him directions.

  “Okay. I’ll go see what’s up. Tell Scotty the wolves in my program are protected by law.” He didn’t add, unless the wolf was caught eating a domestic animal. He knew the threat of fines or even jail time wasn’t guaranteed to save wolves from irate ranchers, but it should calm Scotty. “Can you ask those guys to contact Jefferies? I don’t want him disturbing the cow or anything around it until I examine the site. If he’s right, I have a form he needs to fill out for a government subsidy.”

>   “How long will you be? I’ll meet you there.”

  “No, Tandy. We don’t want Scotty viewing a mangled heifer. And you should act like I’m only your renter.”

  “But...you’re more, Wyatt. Really, I thought you knew.”

  “Ah... I’m glad. But I’ve seen ranchers with bloodlust against our wildlife programs before. I want you to stay safe.”

  “I’m not a helpless female in need of protection. I earned a sharpshooter badge every year I was in the army, so they don’t scare me.”

  “Except Hicks isn’t rational. Don’t tell them, but I’m waiting for adult wolves to wake up. I had to tranquilize them to vaccinate some pups. I can probably get to the Jefferies ranch by noon.”

  “Okay, but will you be in danger? Should I notify Sheriff Anderson?”

  “Don’t worry. They talk big, but they all know I represent a government agency with power to jail them. I’ll call you when I arrive and when I leave the Jefferies ranch, okay?”

  “That will have to do, but it doesn’t mean I won’t worry.”

  “I like that,” he said, lowering his voice and hopefully injecting deep appreciation in his response. “It’s been a long time since anyone worried about me.”

  “Bye for now, and please take care.”

  “I will.” Wyatt slid his phone back into the pack, happy to see his two wolves were up and walking. Quick to shake off the effects, it was obvious they picked up his human scent. Herding the pups, they raced away.

  He watched them flee to higher ground before he climbed from the tree and hiked to where he’d parked. With Tandy’s directions he was sure he could drive straight to the Jefferies ranch. Experiencing a renewed warmth, he smiled to himself, backed around and bounced onto the main highway.

  Wyatt expected to be met by a committee of disgruntled men from the Cattle and Sheep Ranchers Association. But Rollie paced alone in front of his home.

  Before exiting his pickup, Wyatt phoned Tandy to say he’d arrived. Then he grabbed a clipboard, his camera and prepared to speak to an unhappy rancher.

  “Ms. Graham told Pres you wanted to see the wolf kill. I don’t know why. It’s plain to me it wasn’t a mountain lion. They break a heifer’s neck. This poor cow had her throat ripped out. I want to cut it up and save the meat. Good you came when you did or I’d have had it butchered.”

  “I brought a form for restitution. It requires attached photos, which is why I’m here.”

  “Then follow me.”

  They crossed rolling knolls of grass all awash in grazing cattle. No sign of snow this far down the mountain. “Nice ranch,” Wyatt commented.

  “I think so. I need every cow and calf to live so I can pay my property taxes,” Jefferies said, his tone surly.

  “I understand. The government pays twice market value.”

  “So I heard.” The man Wyatt followed stopped by a dead, partially butchered heifer. Wyatt took note of the hindquarters in a farm wagon. The carcass lay between a small stream and a line of cottonwoods. Wyatt uncapped his camera and began shooting. He took close-ups of tracks pressed into damp earth. There were some not occluded by Rollie’s boots.

  “Terrible carnage,” the owner said.

  “Did you show up and scare off the intruder?”

  “Nope. I came out at six a.m. and spotted a downed cow, so I rode over.”

  “This kill happened earlier. Blood’s coagulated. It’s odd the wolf or wolves didn’t feed.”

  Rollie shrugged. “I wouldn’t know anything about that. Let me fill out the form to be paid for my loss.”

  Wyatt handed him the clipboard, but he remained bothered by paw prints half the size of his fist. Squatting by a set of clear tracks, he casually asked, “Have you seen or heard of any hybrid wolf dogs in the county?”

  The man stopped writing. “Are you trying to screw me out of payment or is this about getting your killer wolves off the hook?”

  Rising, Wyatt shook his head. “I just turn in the report. Someone in the department decides on payment.”

  The rancher glared but completed the form without another word. He shoved the board back at Wyatt.

  “I’ll go send this to my office.” Wyatt tipped his hat and started back the way they’d come all the while judging how far this was from his two wolf packs.

  Jefferies caught up. “The association board met last night. We voted to ban Ms. Graham from market. No feedlot will accommodate her as long as she rents to you.”

  Wyatt tried not to break stride when his spine stiffened. He’d like to punch the jerk, but that wouldn’t help Tandy’s cause. “I rented from her dad. No one stopped Manny Vasquez and me from selling his cattle at market.”

  “The sergeant’s different. Preston would’ve paid top dollar to buy Curt’s ranch. She didn’t have the sense to take the deal. Plus, she was warned to not rent to you but ignored us. That makes her enemy number two. You being number one.”

  “She’s no longer a sergeant. She’s a fellow rancher. I should think you’d all respect her service to the country.”

  Jefferies lip curled and he veered off, leaving Wyatt alone to fume.

  Driving back to Spiritridge, he knew in his bones Jefferies’s heifer hadn’t been killed by a wolf. One pair may not have been at Eagle Crest today, but there were no pup tracks around that heifer. Only hungry wolves killed. There was no sign of feeding.

  * * *

  TANDY RAN OUT of the house to meet Wyatt moments after he pulled in. “I’ve been worried sick,” she called, rushing up as he climbed from the cab. “You phoned to say you were at Rollie’s, but you promised to call when you left, too.”

  “Sorry, I forgot.” Lacing a hand around her neck, he drew her in for a kiss. Loosening his hold, he nibbled his way to her ear, nipped it lightly then returned to her mouth to kiss her again.

  She blinked when he finally released her. “Wow! What was that for?”

  “Part apology for not calling. I told you I’m not used to anyone caring about my whereabouts. To be honest, I suppose it’s a bit of frustration, too, for a situation beyond my control.”

  “So I take it one of your wolves killed a cow.”

  “Rollie thinks so. My packs are miles from his ranch. His heifer had the earmarks of a wolf kill. But tracks around the animal are larger than any of mine. We weigh, measure and document size before release. I think there are hybrids in the area. Could be part wolf and German shepherd or husky. Manny said he hasn’t seen any ranch dogs matching that description. Have you?”

  She shook her head. “Most ranchers own herd dogs. I’m probably the only one with a pet. Oh, here comes Scotty. I’d rather not discuss this in front of him.”

  “I agree. I need to go send in Rollie’s claim and my photos.”

  Scotty flung himself at Wyatt. “I thought those mean men did something awful to you.”

  “As you see, I’m fine. I only met with the ranch owner. No one else came around.” He set the boy down. “I told your mom I have work to do at the cabin.”

  “But Mama baked chicken and ’vited Manny to supper. You’ll come, too, won’t you? Yesterday was the funnest ever.” The boy clung to his arm.

  Wyatt was pretty sure he should refuse based on Rollie’s send-off message and that kiss he probably had no business delivering. He could’ve bitten his tongue when he agreed to join them.

  “I had no idea when you’d get home. The chicken will be done at six. Will that give you enough time?” Tandy asked.

  “If I get at it. I have photos to take off my camera. And a report to write on the pups I vaccinated today.” With that, he went off to his casita to get to work.

  * * *

  WORK TOOK WYATT right up to supper time. He’d used a few minutes to make extra copies of photos of the wolf pups. Those were fine to giv
e Scotty. He ran off a set of the tracks circling the heifer to show Manny. Given how long the old man had been working cattle, maybe he’d seen tracks with the sharp toenail imprint of a wolf. A non-tracker might not think them significant.

  On entering Tandy’s house, Wyatt again experienced a sense of coming home. His casita was a place to bunk, as was the cabin at Loki’s. Here, a crackling fire, comfy furniture, a chattering boy and his yappy dog, combined with Tandy’s radiant smile, served as a balm to his lonely heart. An extra heavy one tonight, because it was wrong for him to stay knowing he was why other ranchers had walled her off. She deserved to be accepted as part of the greater ranching community, and her chances of that were better if he didn’t stick around. Rollie had made that clear.

  Manny came in right behind him, saying, “Tandy, you’re spoiling me. Until your dad got sick I never took meals in the main house. Wasn’t seemly. Now the smell of your fine cooking reaches across the yard and calls to me.”

  “What does Mama’s cooking say?” Scotty asked, making everyone laugh.

  Wyatt set a hand on the lively boy’s head. “I bet it says eating family style is way better than sitting alone in front of a TV with something zapped in the microwave.”

  “And we like company, don’t we, Scotty?” Tandy gazed indulgently at her son.

  “I wish Wyatt was my daddy and Manny my grandpa like Mark has.”

  His bold statement caused his mother to blush and had the two men scrabbling for some type of response.

  Manny saved them both by hooking a hand over the boy’s shoulder as he said earnestly, “Your grandfather was one of the finest men I ever met. A fellow like him is darned near impossible to replace. I’ll do my best to honor him by being a family friend.”

  Scotty looped both arms around the old cowboy, but his gaze cut to Wyatt, more or less waiting for his reply. He was saved from doing so by the sound of the oven buzzer and Tandy announcing, “Supper’s done. Take your seats. There’s coffee ready. Let me set out the food then I’ll pour your milk, Scotty.”

  Placing sizzling chicken, baked potatoes and cooked carrots in the center of the kitchen table, she said, “Tomorrow night I plan to make chicken chimichangas. I found my mom’s recipe. I recall Wyatt mentioning at his friends’ home that he liked Abby’s chimis. Manny, did you ever eat the ones Mom fixed?”