The final call was the one that blasted all notions of sleep from her. It was from Jill, and it was short, sweet and concerned.
“Just heard the news. Someone poisoned one of the wolves They called Doc up there to tend to her. I’ll let you know when I hear something else.”
Shadoe played the message again. No matter how much she hated the idea of the wolves, she didn’t hold with poisoning them. It was worse than cowardly. It was despicable, the act of a person who was totally unscrupulous.
Although her body ached from weariness, Shadoe found that not even a hot bath could relax her. The poisoning of the wolf would lead to repercussions among the ranchers. They would all be prime suspects.
She checked the time of the message and discovered that Jill had telephoned earlier that morning. Surely by now there was additional news about the wolf. And it was only seven o’clock. Plenty early for a meeting of the area ranchers. Maybe it was time they organized-to protect themselves against the accusations that would soon be raining down on their heads.
It took fifteen minutes to arrange for an impromptu meeting at the Double S. Jill and Hoss Kemper, one of the longest residents of the valley, had agreed to come, along with Sheriff Billy, Doc and a half dozen others. Shadoe wanted the sheriff present so there could be no possibility that they could be accused of hatching another plot to injure the wolves. If there was going to be a range war between the ranchers and the wolves, it was going to be fought in Washington D.C., where the laws were made. The wolves were as much innocent victims of the government as the ranchers were.
With that point firmly in mind, and her brain whirling with ways to get that across to Hank Emrich and his gang of agents, she set about making coffee and putting out the glasses, ice and mixers for those who wanted something with more jolt than caffeine.
JOGN LOADED THElast glass in the dishwasher and leaned back against the counter, watching Shadoe as she wiped up the final crumbs of the meeting. “Are you still mad at me for buying Copperwood and not telling you? I wanted it to be a surprise.”
When John had appeared at the ranchers’ meeting, Shadoe had been surprised. When she’d found out he’d bought Copperwood, she’d been shocked. And angered. When Hank heard about the sale, he’d think she’d known it all along. Not that it mattered what he thought. She just didn’t like the idea of hurting him, and she knew the sale of the ranch to John would.
“You put me in an awkward position, John,” she said softly. “That was Hank’s family’s place.”
“I didn’t know him from Adam’s house cat,” John said. “You forget, I’m not from Lakota County. I don’t know the history of all these people like you do.”
“I know.” That was true. John didn’t have a malicious bone in his body. It had just been bad timing. Like everything else associated with Hank and her.
“About this little trip up the mountain, you think it’ll really do any good for you to go up there and talk to those guys? They want to believe we’d poison a wolf.” John had turned back to the subject of the meeting.
“I want to say we didn’t poison her. At least she’s still fighting for her life. And the life of her pups.” Shadoe had been upset by Doc’s report on the wolf’s condition, but his hopes for her recovery were stronger than they’d been twelve hours earlier. She sank down on a stool by the counter, looking over at the lean cowboy who was so much at home in her kitchen.
John hung the dish towel so it would dry. “You want me to go with Billy?”
Shadoe shook her head. She hadn’t wanted to be the one elected to pay a visit back to the wolf site. Having been run off once was plenty for her, but she and the sheriff had been chosen to make an “official” visit. They might eject Shadoe, but they couldn’t run off the sheriff of Lakota County. Or at least not as easily.
“I’ll go with Billy. I want those agent people to clearly understand that none of us, no matter how opposed we are, would feed an animal arsenic.”
John’s face darkened. “The very idea.” His lips thinned. “I wouldn’t put it past them to do something like this, then save the wolf in the nick of time, just to make us look bad. Next thing you know they’ll be calling a press conference to tell the country about the evil Montana ranchers.”
Shadoe didn’t comment. Hank wasn’t the kind of man who would hurt a defenseless animal, not for any reason. But politics made strange bedfellows, and Hank wasn’t the only agent on Stag’s Horn with access to the wolves. One thing she’d come away with after the two-hour meeting in her home-the knowledge that the wolves were a political hand grenade. An explosion could damage a lot of people, not just the ranchers.
She was startled by the feel of John’s hand on her shoulder.
“Easy there, Shadoe.” He grinned down at her. “I just wanted to say how good it is to see you. Watching you ride yesterday.” His grin widened. “Well, it brought back a lot of old times. Remember when we used to—”
“I remember, John.” She stepped out from under his hand, then softened the rejection by giving him a smile. “Those were good times. Some of the best of my life.”
“Mine, too.” His grin turned rueful. “Seems like the longer I live the better the past looks.”
She laughed at that. “Sort of like the grass being greener?” She brushed a strand of silken hair from her face. “I know what you mean.”
“You do?”
“I do, but that doesn’t mean I intend to go backward. We made our choices, and when we did, it pointed out exactly how different we are.”
“I’ve changed, Shadoe. I’m ready to.” He hesitated, clearly rattled by what he was going to say. “I’m ready to put the rodeo circuit behind me. I bought that ranch to prove to you that I mean business about this. Hell, I came damn close to breaking my neck, and I don’t have that endless faith any more that all my bones are going to mend back properly.”
Shadoe couldn’t help the soft chuckle. “It’s hard to believe, John, but that sounds like a little bit of wisdom coming from those cowboy lips.”
“Lips that would like to taste yours.”
Shadoe pushed the stool up under the counter, using the motion as an excuse to put even more distance between them “I’ve changed too, John. I’m not the twenty-six-yearold girl who spent a wild and reckless summer with you.”
“Maybe we’ve changed together?”
“Maybe.” She found she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Maybe not.”
“Would you at least give me a chance? I’ve spent the last few years thinking I may have thrown away the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“I doubt that.” Now it was her turn to be rueful. “There are some who’d say you escaped a terrible fate.”
“Just a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”
She finally met his gaze. Her dark eyes were filled with the shadows of the past. “I can’t make any promises. You know I think the world of you, but I can’t promise you anything.”
“But you won’t run me off with that shotgun of yours?”
She smiled. “No, I enjoy your company, just as long as you don’t push it. I’m not the kind who likes to feel cornered.”
“That I remember.” He picked up his hat. “I’ll take that warning to heart and skedaddle out of here. I’m already developing my strategy. I’m going to make you beg for me.” He grinned again, dispelling his arrogant words. “You’ll see. Old John Carpenter is going to become an itch you’ve just got to scratch.”
Shadoe tossed the wet dishcloth at his head, knocking his hat to the floor. “I can see how much you’ve changed. You’re still the same old arrogant fool.”
“That’s me, baby.” He picked up his hat and set it at a jaunty angle. “I shall return.”
Shadoe was still smiling as she locked the door behind him. John Carpenter was a man with a lot of grace and charm, and it was flattering that he wanted to spend time with her. But. She slid the dead bolt home. But what?
That was one thought she could finish after a g
ood night’s sleep. She had to be up bright and early to ride with Billy up to the wolf site. And she wanted to be rested and on her toes for the confrontation with Hank Emrich.
SHADOE FELT THE GRIP of Billy Casper’s gnarled hand on her shoulder as she started up the mountain trail, her tanned face infused with the red of explosive anger.
“Check back, Shadoe,” Billy said calmly.
“Check back my ass.” She tried to jerk away from him, but Billy was a tough guy for all of his sixty years. His fingers dug into her shoulders and held her in one place.
“Don’t go off half-cocked.”
“Look!” She pointed at the camera crews that were busy hauling lights, wires and cameras up the steep trail. “Those bastards have called a press conference, and you can bet who’s going to turn out to be the villain.”
“Going up there and starting a fight won’t help matters any.”
“I’m not going to start a fight.” Shadoe tried to wiggle free, but he held her.
“Don’t forget I’ve known you since you were born, and I knew your dad. Fact is, I never saw such a split in a family. You and Jimmy, both so dark and explosive, and then your ma and little Joey, as blond and sunny as a June day.”
The memories struck Shadoe like a wall, stopping her tug against Billy’s hand. She gave him a sidelong glance, taking in the waxed moustache that matched his solid silver hair. He was an old-time sheriff, a real lawman, not one of those pseudo federal agents. Billy knew his territory, and he knew his people, and he cared about them-enough to go on a wild-goose chase up a mountain with her. She owed it to him not to make a jackass out of herself.
“Have you got a grip on yourself?” He gave her a knowing look.
“Yeah, thanks,” she added grudgingly.
“Your dad always thanked me when I stopped him from charging off like a maddened buffalo. Wish I’d a been there to stop him the day he went after that wolf.”
“I wish you had, too, Billy.” That took the final steam out of her boiler and she walked along beside him as they made their way up to the point where the cameramen had congregated.
Shadoe saw Hank immediately. It was almost as if she sensed him, realizing by instinct where he stood at the edge of the crowd of reporters and federal bureaucrats that had turned out for the circus of a press conference. To her complete amazement, she saw that huge pots of daisies and some other pink flower that wasn’t even native to the area had been brought up the mountain. For the cameras, no doubt. Hank stood with feet planted apart, his arms crossed over his chest. She mentally dubbed him The Guardian. He acted as if he were guarding the entry to the pearly gates. And judging by his scowl, no one was going to get admitted on this particular day.
Her attention was drawn to a sleekly dressed man in an immaculate gray suit that contrasted nicely with a head of salt-and-pepper hair that looked like a wave cresting. He was stepping up to the microphones.
Shadoe hadn’t come prepared to listen to a speech, but she did with mounting anger. Even Billy, usually as laconic as the day was long, was tensing up as the man who identified himself as Harry Code spoke of the poisoning of the wolf and how an innocent animal had become the victim of some “misguided rancher.”
It was use of the word rancher that Shadoe couldn’t tolerate. Before Billy could nab her, she pushed her way to the front of the crowd.
“I’m one of those misguided ranchers, and I demand to know what evidence you have to say such a thing.”
The television cameras swung to her, an eager ripple running through the crowd of reporters. They’d come up to get some footage of the wolves and the obligatory press conference. Now they had something really interesting to shoot.
“Who is this woman?” Harry Code snapped, looking toward Cal with displeasure. He glared down at Shadoe. “Who authorized you to be up here?”
“This is Montana, Mr. Code. I authorized myself. As far as I know, this is still federal property here. I have as much right to be here as you do. Probably more.” Shadoe hadn’t been so angry in years. In fact, she’d thought herself beyond such disastrous surges of emotion.
“Hank, get this woman out of here.” Harry Code was truly irked that his moment in front of the cameras had been upstaged by the angry woman with the flashing eyes. She looked decidedly dangerous.
“I want to know what evidence you have that a rancher tried to injure that wolf. You’ve made an accusation. I want the evidence. In front of these cameras. Now!” The final word cracked out like a whip.
Hank remained on the edge of the crowd, making no effort to jump to his boss’s defense. He’d warned Harry Code about accusing the ranchers or anyone else when they had no evidence. But Code, always one for the dramatic gesture whenever a television camera was trained his way, had stepped in it. And Shadoe had caught him at it. Good for her.
Besides, she was something to watch with her eyes flashing and her cheeks whipped pink with anger. Those firm breasts, which he remembered in full detail, were heaving up and down with her strong emotion.
“Emrich!” Code yelled at him. “Remove this woman.”
Hank took his time walking over to the platform that Harry had ordered erected just for the press conference. Hank saw the cameras swivel and found himself an unwitting third party to the little drama that was playing out.
“The press conference is open to the public. That’s what you said.” Hank’s tone bordered on insolent, but he couldn’t help it. He felt her surprised gaze swing to him, but he ignored her.
“Remove her now.”
“And open the agency up to a lawsuit?” Hank forced his voice to sound puzzled, apprehensive. “If that’s what you want, Harry.” He reached for Shadoe, but slowly, and with the faintest grin.
“I haven’t broken any laws. And I want to know what evidence you have to say that a rancher hurt that wolf.” Shadoe sidestepped his unambitious grasp and turned to the television cameras. What was good for the goose was good for the gander. “He has no evidence. If he did, he’d spit it out,” she said. “Ask him. I’m done here.”
Pushing through the crowd, she made her way back to a smiling Billy Casper.
“Emrich.” Code’s tone held disaster.
“I’ll make sure she leaves the premises.” Hank walked away leaving the cameras no option but to return to Harry Code, who looked decidedly as if he wished he’d never hatched the press conference idea.
“What is the evidence, Mr. Code?” one reporter asked. “Is an arrest imminent?”
“Very possibly.” Code’s eyes were narrowed with fury. “I’ll keep you all informed. At this time I can’t reveal any more information. Now Cal Oberton, one of our top agents, will escort you up to get some footage of the wolves before they’re released.”
Chapter Six
Jill dropped Shadoe in the driveway of the barn and pulled out for home, eager to tend to her cattle before the last hours of daylight faded. Shadoe called to the yellow tabby sunning himself in the branches of a silver birch tree just budding into bright green leaf. “Come on, Totem. Give the birds a rest and help me at the barn.” The cat leaped to the ground and ran to her, crying. As she turned toward the open barn door, she talked to the cat, telling him her adventures for the day.
Jimmy Deerman had made his young daughter believe that animals had the capacity to understand humans. It was something Shadoe wasn’t certain she believed now-although sometimes she felt that her ability to communicate with Scrapiron or Luster or even Totem was eerily acute. Her father had also taught her that man and wild animal could coexist, if they both respected each other. That had been totally untrue.
But Jimmy had gotten her into the habit of talking to the animals, explaining events to them. Now she didn’t stop to think whether they really understood; the talk was habit. She found that it soothed her, and maybe that was the point after all. She could be completely honest with Totem about the chaos of emotions Hank Emrich generated. How was it possible that twenty years after she had put him beh
ind her, he was now an obstacle in her path? It wasn’t that she still felt real emotion for him, it was simply that he had gotten out of the place in her path where he should have been and climbed ahead of her into the future. He was out of order, and his big, muscular body was blocking her way. That was what was bothering her. That was all it could be.
Totem watched her with complete interest as she tidied her tack and talked. Though her house was mostly organized, she kept the barn meticulously clean, especially the tack room where she kept tools and medication. In an emergency, she didn’t have time to hunt for wire cutters or bandages. Running the ranch alone, she didn’t have precious minutes to waste. She had to be able to put her hands on things instantly. She checked the medicine cabinet to make sure she’d put up the emergency supplies she always took with her when she went on the road with a horse. The vials of medicine, syringes, wound salves and powders, bandages and tape were in perfect order.
The horses had been turned out, except for Scrapiron who had a paddock adjoining his stall. As she picked up the broom and began to sweep, she could hear the stallion coming in and out of the stall, waiting on her to bring his dinner. It was almost time to feed.
Shadoe shook her head and looked at the cat. “So why do I let Hank bother me? He’s doing his job. I’m trying to run my ranch. None of the other agents get under my skin like he does. Not even that pretentious boss of his.”
Meow. Totem’s tone was wise.
“Oh, so you think I’m making a mountain out of a molehill?”
Meow! Totem flicked his yellow tail and yawned.
“I think you’re right. It’s me, not Hank.” She put the broom back and reached down to stroke the cat. “Thanks for the advice. Now let’s feed up and go see about our own dinner.” As she started to stand, her eye caught the edge of material hanging from her tack truck. She’d been in a hurry when she unloaded from the competition in Billings, but she didn’t think she’d been in that big a rush. Opening the truck she saw her transport wraps had been hastily stowed. The end of one hung out, just enough to show when the trunk was shut. She picked it up, rewrapped it, and put it back, closing the lid.
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