Montana Unbranded

by Nadia Nichols

  “Mind if I tag along?” he said.

  “Suit yourself.” She kept walking. She had her hands shoved in her jacket pockets and her shoulders were rounded over as she walked.

  “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you by something I said or did.”

  “You didn’t offend me, Joe,” Dani said. “Whatever makes you happy, do it. That’s what most men usually do, isn’t it? You want to go back east tomorrow? Go. I don’t care what you do and it clearly wouldn’t matter if I did.” She came to an abrupt stop. “Strike that from the record,” she said when he swung to look at her. “I care very much if you hurt Molly. She’s my best friend, she’s pregnant and her wedding’s coming up, so if you can find it within yourself to think about what might be best for her, I’d be very grateful.”

  She resumed her determined walk toward the barn. Joe hesitated a moment before following her. He sensed he was treading in dangerous territory. So he silently followed her out behind the barn to a corral with pole-and-wire fencing that surrounded a weather-beaten shed with a rusted tin roof.

  “No, stupid!” he heard a boy’s voice say as they opened the corral gate and walked toward the shed. “That’s not how Badger showed us to do it.”

  “She keeps kicking the bucket over,” another voice said. “She won’t hold still!”

  “Anyways, Badger doesn’t know nothin’ about goats,” a third voice said.

  “Neither does Charlie,” a fourth voice added. “They think they know everything.”

  “Yeah, and I don’t believe that story about him and Badger milkin’ that wild longhorn cow,” a fifth voice pitched in.

  Joe was right behind Dani when she pushed open the shed door. All five boys looked up from the goat that was tethered to the wall. The rest of the milk goats milled restlessly in the enclosed space. Joe saw a tipped-over stainless-steel pail under the tethered goat and a bale of hay and a couple buckets of water against the other wall. Dani closed the door behind them and addressed the situation with brisk efficiency.

  “Hey, Jimmy. Pony said you might need help milking your herd before supper. I grew up on a dairy farm so I can give you a hand, if you like. Many hands make light work.”

  “Cows aren’t the same as goats,” Jimmy said, picking up the small pail and looking defensive. “They only have two tits, not four.”

  “That’s teats, Jimmy,” Dani corrected as the other boys snickered. “Goats have two teats, and it doesn’t matter how many teats an animal has, they all function in basically the same way. I’ve never milked a wild longhorn but I milked a wild mustang a few days back, and my technique worked on her, too.” The boys paid a little more attention after she said that, and Jimmy reluctantly handed her the pail.

  “When I bought them at the auction the owner said they were all trained,” he explained. “But they won’t hold still and they keep kicking the bucket over.”

  Dani took the pail from Jimmy and looked around the shed. “Do you have any sweet grain up in the barn?” When Jimmy nodded, she smiled. “Good. Go get a couple quarts in another pail. We’re also going to need a platform about knee-high for the goat to stand on while she’s being milked—that will make it easier to reach her udder. And you’ll need a stool or an overturned bucket to sit on while you milk. We can look up plans later for how to build a goat stand for milking—that’s an easy project you can do tomorrow. But right now we have to get all these goats milked before supper, so a bucket of sweet feed and a bench will have to work. Can you fetch those things?”

  The boys nodded and dashed out of the shed, leaving Dani and Joe alone with the goat herd. Joe thought these goats were mighty strange-looking animals but they seemed gentle enough, and Dani seemed comfortable around them, patting them and talking to them while he tried to think of something intelligent to say to her. He searched for the right words and was beginning to feel desperate when his cell phone rang. It was Molly.

  “Joseph? I’m just making sure you’re still at the Bow and Arrow,” she said.

  “We are. We’re about to milk a herd of goats. Dani’s right here, if you want to talk to her.”

  “Did you see Luther Makes Elk?”

  “We did.”

  “Did he say anything about my wedding?”

  “No. Was he supposed to?”

  Joe heard Molly heave a frustrated sigh. “I just wondered, that’s all. How’s Dani?” she said.

  “Dani’s fine. She’s in complete control of the current situation. I have a feeling these goats will all be milked in record-breaking time. Here, you can ask her yourself.” He handed the phone to Dani and it was his turn to hear a one-sided conversation.

  “Your brother’s fine,” Dani said in a carefully neutral voice. “We’re both fine, just tired. It’s been another long day...Yes, we found Custer’s four surviving mares. They’re okay and in a safe place for now. Everything’s good here. How are you feeling, still sick to your stomach?...Well, that’ll pass. You just have to suffer it out. I think Steven’s right, you should take a couple weeks off and work from home...I’m not sure what Joe’s plans are. I think he’s giving a talk to the kids after supper...Don’t worry, I won’t let him out of my sight.” Dani frowned with concentration as she listened to Molly’s long reply. “I’m sure everything’s going to be okay. Joe’s safe and sound, and he’s not going anywhere, so stop worrying. Take care of yourself.”

  Dani handed his phone back with a cool glance in his direction. “I didn’t tell her you were still planning to go back east. You can do that yourself, but you better let her know before she drives all the way out here. She told me she wants to visit tomorrow. She’s going stir-crazy.”

  Joe shoved the phone back into his pocket as the boys entered the shed, two of them carrying a mounting block, one carrying a pail of grain and an empty bucket and a fourth carrying a bale of hay.

  “That’s great, boys,” Dani said. “Put the mounting block right up against the wall, we’re going to make the goat stand on it. The bucket’s going to be a seat. Okay, that’s good. Now let’s get the first goat up there, and when she’s in place, one of you stand in front of her holding the grain so she can eat it while I show Jimmy how to milk. Ready?”

  The first goat was soon in position and enthusiastically munching on sweet feed. “See how she likes that grain?” Dani said. “You want them to associate the milking with pleasurable things.” She sat on the upended bucket and put the stainless-steel pail beneath the goat’s udder. “Now watch, Jimmy, it’s easy. Be gentle when you grip the teat, then squeeze your fingers firmly, starting from the top finger, right next to her udder and going to the bottom pinky finger. See how I’m doing this? You’re forcing the milk that’s in the teat out of the nipple, like so.” A stream of white frothy milk entered the pail, with the boys all watching intently. “You keep doing the same thing, over and over, until no more milk comes out of that teat, and then you milk the other teat. Sometimes it helps to bump her udder with your hand, just like a baby goat would. This bumping gets the milk to let down easier. Wow, this is a good doe—look at all that nice creamy milk!” Dani said. “What a good girl she is. You must praise her, speak softly to her, let her know what a special girl she is for giving you this milk. Be kind to your milk goats and treat them well and they’ll produce gallons of milk for you. Do you want to try?”

  Jimmy nodded. They switched positions and Dani helped him perfect his technique. An impressive amount of milk was produced by the first doe and was poured into a clean pail. The second goat was brought to the bench and given a treat of grain while Jimmy milked her. All the boys took turns milking the three goats who were producing. Dani praised their efforts, offered her tutoring and answered their questions. When the last goat had been milked there was almost two gallons of milk.

  “Who’s going to make the goat cheese?” Joe asked.

  The boys looked at each o
ther. Jimmy picked up the pail. “Ramalda,” he announced.

  * * *

  THE LONG TRESTLE table in the ranch house kitchen held twelve people when every chair was filled, and tonight three extra chairs had been added. It was a full house, and as the serving dishes were passed around, the room filled with the noisy chatter of five boisterous boys, two garrulous old cowboys, Pony and Caleb, Jessie and her husband, Guthrie, and Joe and Dani. Ramalda’s chair always remained empty because she refused to share the table at supper or any other meal. She was in complete charge of the kitchen and it was a full-time job to run the food to and the empty dishes from the table. When Pony tried to help her, Ramalda took it as a personal affront, so in the end Ramalda presided over the kitchen while the rest of them ate.

  Dani lit into her food. She was ravenous, completely recovered from her airsickness. As she ate, she tried to answer Jessie’s questions across the table about the helicopter flight and the whereabouts and condition of the four mares, while to her right Joe was listening to Badger talk about buffalo cows and how dangerous they could be during calving season. And to her left Pony was coaching the boys about proper table manners and suggesting that they go up to Piney Creek and start heating the stones for a sweat lodge directly after supper because tonight’s evening lecture by Joe Ferguson was going to be followed by the sweat lodge ceremony.

  With all the different conversations flying around the table it was somewhat astonishing that the food vanished as quickly as it did. Ramalda refilled empty serving dishes until the eating frenzy gradually abated. Dani could only wonder what the food bill was at the Bow and Arrow. These growing boys appeared to eat their weight in fried chicken, biscuits and mashed potatoes with gravy, and they were fed three square meals a day.

  Caleb had joined the conversation with Jessie, and Dani and was mentioning Sheriff Conroy and the fact that he wasn’t running for sheriff in the fall. “He says he’s been wanting to retire for a few years now. His son Kurt’s a deputy sheriff, and the rumor is he’s going to be running in his father’s place. Kurt’s married to Hershel Bonner’s daughter, Josie, and I heard you mention you wanted to talk to her again. You might want to talk to Kurt, too, while you’re at it.”

  Dani sighed. “Right now I’m more worried about what will happen to Custer’s surviving mares without a band stallion to protect them.”

  “But with the shooter still out there, those mares could still be in danger,” Joe said, startling Dani, who looked at him with eyebrows raised. “I think it would be a good idea to talk to both Josie and Kurt. Where do they live?”

  “They have a place south of Billings,” Caleb said. “I’ll look up the address and phone number for you. Another thing, Hershel Bonner’s on the cattlemen’s association board, so he’s caught between a rock and a hard place when it comes to the mustangs. It’s a tangled web, for sure. There’s a meeting coming up tomorrow night. I get the invites because I joined to keep abreast of what’s going on. You could attend the meeting yourself and ask some questions of the local cattlemen.”

  “That’s a good idea, too,” Joe said. “Where and when do they meet?”

  “I’ll get you that information, too,” Caleb said. “Matter of fact, I might go myself. I’d like to hear what they have to say about the shooting and let them know about the reward that’s been posted for any information leading to the conviction of the shooter. We run some fine Spanish mustangs on the Bow and Arrow and if they should stray off our lands or our BLM leases I want the locals to know they’d better not be used for target practice.”

  “How do they work, those grazing leases?” Dani asked, confounded as to why Joe had jumped into the conversation like he did. Had he changed his mind about heading back east? “Supposing I was thinking of buying a small ranch and I wanted to lease some BLM land to run wild mares on.”

  Caleb reached for another piece of fried chicken and nudged the platter toward her. “That’s a question Jessie’ll have to field. The rules and regulations of the permits and leases spin my head around. Jess?”

  Jessie pushed her plate away. “Basically, anyone can lease grazing rights on BLM lands if the allotments are available and if the lessee has a privately owned home or ranch or some type of livestock operation. The leases usually last for ten years and are renewable, as long as the terms of the lease are being met.

  “When Caleb bought this ranch from me, the BLM leases were transferred with it because he wanted to keep the grazing rights. If you’re seriously shopping for something that already has BLM leases, there’s a run-down place for sale about twenty miles from here, belonged to Shep Deakins. He ran beef critters on his land. When he died it took a lot of digging to find any family. He has a cousin in Illinois, but she doesn’t want the place. Anyhow, Shep had a bunch of BLM leases and they’re scheduled to expire at the end of the year. Nobody’s bought the property yet, so those leases might come up for bid.”

  “And if someone buys the property, the leases would be transferred?”

  “Yes, unless the new owner specifies that they aren’t interested in renewing them. Shep’s property isn’t in great shape, but he had three good leases with the BLM, all fenced and totaling about nine hundred acres. Caleb and I went over and looked at the place as a potential satellite property for the wild horses and buffalo we run here. In the end we figured it was too far away from the Bow and Arrow, but it has a lot of potential because the graze is good, the fences are in good repair and it has reliable water. With close to three hundred acres of privately owned land, including a barn and some corrals, and the three BLM leases, the right buyer could make a go of that property with a small ranching operation.” Jessie paused and gave Dani a long calculating stare. “Are you really thinking of buying a ranch just so Custer’s mares can be safe?”

  “I’m selling my house in Helena and shopping for a place with some land. Could you give me directions to Shep’s ranch?”

  “Sure.” Jessie grinned. “Sounds like you have a busy few days planned. I’ll show you on a map where it’s at. You can probably look it up on the Realtor’s website, too. It’s been on the market for about eight or nine months now. Shep died last fall, just before the first big snow.”

  “Shep was one of the last of the old rounders,” Badger volunteered, reaching for another biscuit. “Quite a character. You gonna take up mustang ranching and give up lawyering?”

  Dani shook her head. “Maybe I’m just dreaming, but my real estate agent thinks I’m about to get a good offer on my house.”

  “Don’t let so much reality into your life that there’s no place for dreams,” Badger said. “Shep’s place would make a mighty fine homestead. Needs a little elbow grease, that’s all.”

  Charlie let out a guffaw. “Needs a gallon of gasoline and a match. Shep never threw nothin’ away, including his trash.”

  “Charlie, you never miss a good chance to shut up,” Badger said. “Shep did all right out there. He lived good and he died good.”

  “If you can call dropping dead at the mailbox holding a fistful of unpaid bills good.”

  “Sure beats a nursing home,” Badger said around a mouthful of biscuit.

  “If you’re interested in that property, maybe the thing to do is attend the cattlemen’s meeting from a potential rancher’s perspective rather than someone from a radical mustang preservation group,” Joe contributed. “The people at that meeting wouldn’t know who you were. Well, Hershel Bonner would, but if we talked to him first he might keep quiet.”

  “Mustang groups aren’t made up of radicals,” Dani said testily. “We’re trying to protect a wild horse’s right to survive and remain wild.”

  “Joe has a point,” Caleb moderated. “Why don’t you two attend the meeting tomorrow, see if you can learn something. Be a couple of perspective ranchers thinking of buying Shep Deakins’s place. Ask about the leases, what happens if other animals
stray onto them—can you shoot them? Ask how you protect your grazing lands and water. See what they have to say. They might be more forthcoming if they think you’re just going to be running a bunch of cattle.”

  “I could do that, I guess,” Dani said. “Gives me another reason to look at Shep’s place, too. What about Custer’s mares? Should we leave them where they are? Will they come back into the high valley and be in danger again?”

  “By the end of the week the pass will probably be rideable,” Jessie said. “We could trailer some horses to the forest service camp and ride up there, check things out.”

  “I’d like to go along,” Dani said. “I don’t ride, but I could learn.”

  “We have a few gentle horses,” Jessie said. “I’m sure Badger could rustle one up for you.”

  “You bet I could,” Badger said. “Matter of fact, I’d like to go myself. Been a while since I’ve ridden through that high country.” He smoothed biscuit crumbs from his whiskers and gave Dani a nod. “Don’t worry about not knowing how to ride,” he told her. “The trail’s a real gully whumper, but you can just about always handle more than you think you can, and I’m sure you’ll do just fine. I’ll pick you out a nice steady horse.”

  Dani helped clear the table and then poured coffee and distributed slices of pie. She helped Ramalda at the sink while dessert was being eaten. “I had so much of your delicious chicken and mashed potatoes I’ll explode if I eat another bite. I might have a piece of your pie later, if that’s all right.”

  Mollified, Ramalda allowed her to help with the dishes. Dani avoided looking in Joe’s direction and concentrated on drying and stacking the plates while Pony gave the boys instructions to light the fire at the sweat lodge and start heating the rocks before Joe’s after-supper lecture began. Three of them jumped up from the table to do it. Jimmy had intentions of joining them, but as he made for the door Ramalda said in a brusque voice, “Jimmy.”