Montana Unbranded

by Nadia Nichols

  She claimed the driver’s seat as Joe took the passenger one and headed out the short drive to the main road, turning back toward Katy Junction. Miles passed. The silence grew as big as the mountains in the distance and as cold as the snows that still crowned their summits. Dani’s hands were wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly that her fingers were beginning to cramp up.

  Suddenly Joe broke the icy silence. “I met my ex-wife, Alison Aniston, when I pulled her over for running a red light and arrested her for drug possession. But as I’m booking her at the station house she starts telling me about all the rough knocks she’s had in life and how a drug conviction would ruin her modeling career. So I book her for running a red light, conveniently forgetting about the bag of heroin I found on her. Then she asks me what time I get off my shift so she can buy me a drink. Our relationship was toxic from the start. She was working for one of the biggest and best modeling agencies in the city. Her photo was in all the magazines. She had me so turned around I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have a woman like her in my life. She asked me to marry her after we’d been seeing each other only a few weeks. I bought her the biggest diamond I could afford, which on a cop’s pay wasn’t very impressive.

  “The wedding happened two weeks after she proposed. I thought it was incredible she could pull that kind of wedding together practically overnight. I found out later that it had actually taken her twelve months to plan—apparently she’d made all the arrangements and done all the planning only to break up with her fiancé one month before she met me. Seems I came along just in the nick of time. I found all this out on our honeymoon, of course. She told me that running that red light was the best thing that could ever have happened to her because she’d landed herself a dumb cop who’d played right into her hand. Then the icing on the wedding cake? She told me she was two months pregnant. And that was the beginning of my five-year nightmare.”

  Dani struggled to process what Joe was telling her. “You’re Catholic—wouldn’t that confession from her grant you the right to an annulment?”

  “I loved her. I thought once she got to know me better, she’d feel the same way. So I stuck with her, proving her theory that I was a dumb cop.”

  “The child she was pregnant with...was that Fergie? Molly never told me you weren’t his real father.”

  “I never told anyone until now, and I’m listed as the father on the birth certificate. It was the right thing to do,” Joe said. “I’m his real father, as far as I’m concerned. James Frederick Ferguson is my son. He’s a good kid, a great kid, almost six years old now. Alison just enrolled him in a private boarding school so he wouldn’t be underfoot and cramping her style. I stuck it out for five years just to stay in Ferg’s life. The only good thing about our marriage was that kid. I love him and miss him like crazy. We share joint custody, but I don’t think I’d stand a chance of getting Ferg away from her. I’m telling you this so you’ll understand that when I say I’m a little gun-shy when it comes to romantic involvement, there’s a reason.”

  “I’m sorry,” Dani said. She took her hands off the wheel one at a time and flexed her fingers to relieve the cramping. “Your story makes my relationship with Jack sound like a fairy tale. All he did was fall in love with one of his young, sexy flight attendants. No kids and no messy marriage.”

  “I just wanted you to understand where I’m coming from.”

  “Thanks for telling me.” Dani shot him a sidelong glance. “I’m sorry all that awful stuff happened to you, but I still believe two people can be happy together and share a good life.”

  “Did you have any clue Jack was going to leave you?”

  Dani sighed. “Hindsight being perfect, I should have wondered about his recurring changes in scheduling, his increasingly shorter visits and the decrease in phone calls and text messages that had once been so frequent. I guess I was just so busy at work and assumed he was, too. His announcement that he was leaving me came out of the blue, but I should have expected it.”

  “So, having been through that, how can you ever trust anyone again?”

  As Dani concentrated on the dirt road in front of her, she recalled how stunned she’d been when Jack had walked out on her. How, for days, she lived in a world filled with self-doubt and the feeling that she was a failure because she hadn’t seen it coming, hadn’t prevented it from happening. “I want someone to share my life with,” she said. “I want my life to be about more than just me, so I’m willing to take a chance on loving again, and maybe being hurt again. I have to believe there’s someone out there for me, someone to grow old with. I don’t want to go through life alone.”

  Joe was quiet for so long that she wondered what he might say when he finally spoke again. Would he admit that the past few days spent in her company had made him feel like maybe, in spite of everything, he could take a chance on love again, too? She wondered if he enjoyed being with her, if he wondered what sharing that first kiss might be like? Back at the bar, had the sexual tension sizzling between them been just a figment of her feverish imagination?

  Finally she prodded him with, “You’re being awfully quiet.”

  He gazed out the windshield. “I was thinking about Luther Makes Elk and Johnny Old Coyote, two old friends sitting side by side on that bench all day long, sharing a pipe, and how ancient their faces were and how looking at them was like looking back through time. And I was thinking about what Luther Makes Elk said to me, about my blood not being strong and my strength being needed.” He looked at her, his expression pensive. “What’s a sweat lodge?”

  Dani shot him an incredulous stare and shook her head with frustration. “For the life of me, I don’t know how anyone as nice as Molly could have a brother who is such an insensitive jerk.”

  * * *

  IT WAS CLOSE to suppertime when they reached the Bow and Arrow. Dani had gone all silent on him again, even though he’d tried his best to be open and honest with her when she’d brought up the subject of marriage. For all his efforts, all she’d done was call him an insensitive jerk. He wasn’t sure what to say that would make things right, so he just kept his mouth shut. She was definitely a romantic and expected a whole lot more out of a relationship than he could ever give, so it was best to leave the subject alone. Besides, he’d be heading back east tomorrow. The most that could ever come out of any relationship they shared was a one-night stand. Dani was a class act and deserved a whole lot more than that from a guy.

  She parked the Subaru next to a battered old pickup below the main house, unfastened her seat belt and gave Joe a dangerously neutral stare. “I’m going to let my dogs out, take them for a short walk, feed them and then check on the filly. I guess I’ll see you around. It’s a big ranch but we all share the same supper table. And by the way? I promised Molly I’d make sure you stayed put here tonight. It’s all been prearranged, and I’m staying, too, just to make sure you don’t run off. You can consider this a house arrest. She put an overnight bag together for you. It’s in the back, with the dogs.”

  She got out and popped open the back hatch and let the dogs out. Joe watched her walk off toward the barn, hands shoved in her jacket pockets and the two golden retrievers gamboling in big happy circles around her. He sat listening to the tick of the hot engine and the sound of the wind pushing against the car.

  He was content to sit and watch and listen. He could hear voices from down near the barns, the bark of an excited dog, a horse whinnying, a boy laughing. Domestic sounds came from the kitchen—the rattle of cutlery, the clank of a pot being set on the stove, the squeak and thump of an oven door being opened and closed. He wondered what it would have been like, to have grown up in a place like this. He heard the hinges on the screen door and glanced up to see Pony come onto the porch. She spotted him sitting in the car and came down the steps and up to his open window.

  “Should I have the
boys tie you up, or are you going to stay put this time?” she said with a smile that took the sting out of her words.

  “We’re staying put,” Joe said. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

  “We are glad to have you. The boys are looking forward to your talk. Molly said you could tell them about the time you spent in the military, and how you got into law enforcement.”

  “I can talk to them about searching for wild horses by helicopter, too,” Joe said. “We found the four mares. Dani can show you on a map where they are.”

  “Safe?”

  “Yep. Made it all the way over the pass through some really deep snow.”

  Pony nodded. “They are tough, those mustangs. Jessie Weaver will be glad to hear that they’re all right. The filly is doing well and is strong enough to stand and walk on her own. Roon has been with Jessie down in the barn, and they have had success getting her to nurse from the mare. They had to restrain the mare the first few times. It was difficult because the mare came from the BLM holding corrals and had not been handled much, but today’s been a good day.”

  “That’s good news. Dani’s been worried about that little orphan all day long.”

  “It does not take much for an animal to get under your skin, if you have a soft heart,” Pony said. “Dani loves horses. Not many could have gotten that newborn foal down the mountain. That was a brave thing she did. Has she gone down to the barn?”

  “She took her dogs for a walk in that direction.” Joe glanced down toward the corrals, then back at Pony. “We stopped to see Luther Makes Elk on the way here. Dani said he’s officiating at Molly’s wedding and I should meet him.”

  “Luther Makes Elk married Caleb and me,” Pony said. “He is a Crow holy man and Steven’s adopted grandfather. It was a great honor to have him at our wedding. Did he speak to you?”

  “Not much. Just said my blood wasn’t strong and I needed a sweat lodge.”

  Pony nodded thoughtfully. “A sweat lodge is a special ceremony among my people. We have a sweat lodge here, up near Piney Creek. I will speak to the boys. They will prepare it for you.”

  “No need. I just thought it was a strange thing for him to say since we just met.”

  “If Luther Makes Elk says your blood is not strong and you need a sweat lodge, then you must have one,” Pony said. “It would be foolish of you not to. My brother, Steven, would not be alive today if it were not for Luther Makes Elk. He has strong powers, and you must heed them.”

  * * *

  DANI WAS AMAZED at the way the little foal had rallied in one day’s time. She was standing on her own and nursing from a roan mare who’d lost her own foal two days prior. Roon held the mare by a halter rope on the other side of the stall partition, but it was only a precaution. The mare had clearly accepted the foal. Her initial hostility had been replaced by a rapidly strengthening maternal bond. Jessie Weaver leaned over the partition, watching the foal nurse with an expression Dani could only describe as pure contentment. She caught Dani watching her and smiled.

  “I love this part of my job,” Jessie said. “Just this morning I had to tranquilize this mare. She was so ornery with the filly, tried to kick and bite her and wanted nothing to do with her. But now look at them. If we took that foal away, she’d tear the barn apart trying to get to her. We’ve turned the corner, Dani. This little filly is going to make it, thanks to you.”

  “Thanks to you and Roon,” Dani corrected. “All I did was find her. It was a group effort that saved her.”

  “Did you find Custer’s mares?”

  “We spotted all four over on the other side of South Pass. They seemed fine. It was rough weather for flying. I got a little airsick.”

  Jessie smiled. “Nothing stops Nash from flying. He’d fly in a hurricane. He’s a rogue and a rascal, but he’s the best pilot around. He can spot a flea on a dog’s back at one thousand feet. He always comes through in a pinch for us.”

  “I sent a bunch of digital photos to the wild horse rescue sites last night,” Dani told her. “One of the groups was setting up a GoFundMe page to raise reward monies for finding the shooter, but what we really need is a workable solution for these horses, so they can stay on the range, so the bands don’t get broken up.” Dani watched the filly nursing and was filled with despair. “I wish I didn’t care so much,” she said softly, her eyes stinging. “I don’t know how to help them.”

  Jessie had lived in this land her entire life, but she had no easy answers, either. They looked at each other, then looked away. There were no words, just the hurt of it, the wrong of it—Custer lying dead up in the Arrow Roots, half of his mares shot dead, the other half struggling to survive without him. There were the cattlemen who wanted the grass and water for their beef cows so they could make a decent living. There were the hunters who wanted the grass and water for the game animals they liked to shoot. There were the wildlife biologists trying to find that elusive and imaginary sweet spot where everything could coexist and thrive in a world driven by the all-powerful bottom line.

  But all Dani could think about were the horses lying dead on that high alpine meadow in the Arrow Roots. And Joe Ferguson, whose own life was in danger. Oh, yes, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, either, even if he was an insensitive jerk. “I wish I didn’t care so much,” she repeated so softly that nobody else heard.

  * * *

  RAMALDA WAS OLD enough now that she sometimes had trouble remembering where she put her grocery list or what she’d made for supper two nights ago, but she remembered her early days at the Bow and Arrow before it was the Bow and Arrow. She remembered when it was called the Weaver ranch, and her husband, Drew, rode for John Weaver, and Charlie and Badger had made up the rest of the full-time crew. She remembered those days very clearly, so when Charlie and Badger showed up at suppertime most every night, it was like those old times wrapped themselves around her. Memories of being young and strong and how they’d laugh together and how good the land was to them in those days. When Charlie and Badger walked through the door in the evening, she’d forget how many years had passed, and how those years had slowly robbed her of everything. She’d feel that glad kick inside of herself that she used to feel every time Drew walked in with the two of them. Seeing Badger and Charlie made her feel as if they were all young again, and life was still full of promise.

  But today when they walked in, they looked old and twisted and arthritic—did she look the same to them? “Wash up. Lávate las manos!” she commanded with a scowl. “You have been with goats and you stink.”

  “Goats don’t stink,” Charlie said, shuffling obediently to the sink and reaching for a bar of soap. “Girl goats don’t, anyway.”

  “And that’s all we got is girls,” Badger added, shouldering up beside his friend and lathering his hands. “A whole bunch of milk goats that don’t give milk. That Jimmy bought himself a pig in a poke this time.”

  “What do two old cowboys know about goats?” Ramalda scoffed, laying a hand towel on the sideboard before taking a roasting pan full of chicken out of the oven.

  “I may not know much about goats, but I know a pig in a poke when I see one,” Badger said, wiping his hands on the towel. “They should take those goats back to auction and pawn them off on some other fool.”

  Pony came into the kitchen in time to hear this declaration. “The goats are fine—there’s nothing wrong with them. They just need to be milked properly. Jimmy needs a lesson from someone who knows how to milk cows, not from two old cowboys.”

  Badger squared off to Pony, smoothed his wiry gray mustache and puffed out his chest. “I’ll have you know I’ve milked a cow or two in my day. Wild ones, too. Why, when Jessie Weaver was just knee-high to a grasshopper me’n Charlie had to get milk for her when her mother got sick. You remember, Charlie? We had to find one of them longhorn critters that had a calf and rope it and hog-tie it, t
hen milk it while it was all trussed up, lying on the ground.”

  “And I got kicked pretty bad,” Charlie said. “Limped the better part of a year after.”

  “We got the milk, though, and John Weaver was mighty glad to get it,” Badger reminisced. “I’m not stretching the blanket to say that that milk probably saved Jessie Weaver’s life.”

  Jessie herself entered the kitchen in time to hear the last exchange, with Dani right behind her. “I’ve heard that story more times than I can count,” Jessie said. “I guess I owe my life to a wild longhorn cow and two old cowboys.”

  “It was I who fed you that milk,” Ramalda said, hurt to have been excluded.

  Jessie gave Ramalda a hug and kissed her cheek. “You’ve always been like a mother to me, Ramalda. I was a very lucky girl to have had you then and I’m just as lucky to have you now. We all are. Why’re we talking about milking wild cows?”

  “Somebody needs to teach Jimmy how to milk his goats,” Pony said. “I refuse to milk his goats for him. Because if I do it once, I will be stuck doing it every day, twice a day.”

  “I grew up on a dairy farm,” Dani said. “I’d be glad to show Jimmy how to milk his goats. Where is he?”

  “Behind the barn is a small shed,” Pony said. “The goats are there, and so are most of the boys. They like to tease him when he is trying to milk. If you go down there, could you please tell them supper will be on the table in half an hour and they must wash up first.”

  Ramalda sighed and shook her head after Dani had left the kitchen on her way to the barn. “Este es un rancho, no una granja lechera,” she said.

  “The times, they are a’changing, old gal,” Badger said, giving her a fond pat in passing. “You might find yourself making goat cheese when she comes back with all that milk.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DANI DESCENDED THE porch stairs and marched right past Joe, heading for the barn again with her dogs by her side. She hadn’t looked at him when she went into the house, either, and he was sitting right here on the porch bench. He pushed to his feet and started after her. She ignored him when he caught up.