Molly was relieved to hear from Badger that they would stop here to give the horses a breather and have some refreshment. The trail thus far had been demandingly steep, and already her thigh muscles were cramping from the effort of staying in the saddle. She looked forward to taking a break and having a second cup of coffee. It was high time for a rest.
As Badger had predicted, Pony and Caleb were at the corrals, along with Jessie and Guthrie. They were sitting on some bales of hay, enjoying the sunrise and sharing a Thermos of coffee. They broke out another Thermos and treated the boys to hot chocolate while dispensing Ramalda’s strong cowboy brew to Badger and Molly, along with one of the most delicious doughnuts she’d ever eaten. She sat down next to Pony and took a big bite. Then another. Two more and the entire doughnut was gone. “Thank you! That was delicious.”
“That was Ramalda’s bear sign,” Badger said.
Pony handed her another. “Bear sign is cowboy slang for doughnuts.”
“Best bear sign I ever ate,” Molly admitted, biting into the second. She took another sip of coffee and massaged a sore muscle in the calf of her leg. “How much farther is it to where the buffalo are?”
“Oh, hell,” Badger snorted. “We ain’t even got started yet. The trail gets pretty steep from here on out, soon as we cross the meadow.”
“Steeper than what we’ve already climbed?” Molly asked with a lurch of anxiety, and the boys’ laughter was answer enough.
“So, you couldn’t talk Steven into coming,” Pony said.
Molly finished off the second doughnut and tried to calculate how far across the meadow was and how high that pass that they had to ride through could possibly be. “No,” she said. “And I’m beginning to understand why.”
TWO HOURS LATER she was well beyond wishing she’d stayed behind and snuggled on the couch with Steven or just plain died outright in his arms. She’d long since dropped Amos’s reins on his neck and was devoting all her energy to clinging with both hands to the saddle horn, murmuring repeated Hail Marys beneath her breath and promising God that if she ever survived this awful experience, she would never mention the words horse or buffalo again.
Ever.
Her death grip on the horn was so fierce that when Amos suddenly stopped and she lifted her head to look around, she couldn’t loosen her fingers. “It’s all right, Molly,” she heard Pony say through her fog of exhaustion. “We’re at the line camp on Piney Creek. The worst of the climb is over.”
Molly nodded that she understood as Badger helped her out of the saddle. Her legs could barely support her and he assisted her to a bench in front of what appeared to be a very old, weather-beaten log cabin that she hadn’t even noticed moments earlier.
“You ladies rest up,” he said gallantly. “The boys and I’ll hunt up the herd while you eat.” Molly was certain she was the only lady who needed to rest, but she wasn’t about to argue the point. She rubbed her hands against her thighs and looked around. In front of the cabin was what she assumed was Piney Creek, and beyond it a large, tree-dotted meadow rimmed with mountains that were flanked with the golden colors of fall. It was, she supposed, an idyllic western setting, but all she could think about was that horrifyingly steep trail they’d just ridden in on, nearly vertical in places, and how equally terrifying the ride back to the ranch was going to be.
She didn’t have the strength to make it back to the Bow and Arrow. No way. Her legs were like rubber, and her hands… She held them up to examine them. They looked normal, but… “Here,” Pony said at her elbow, startling her. “It’s a ham sandwich and a cold soda. The food will help. You should have eaten breakfast.”
“Next time I’ll know better,” Molly said with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
“It’s a tough haul if you aren’t used to riding,” Jessie spoke up from Molly’s other elbow as the two women shared the bench with her to eat their lunch. “Guthrie and I spent our honeymoon up here. It was just perfect except for a run-in with a grizzly two nights into the stay. It spooked the horses but Guthrie fired a round from his rifle and scared him off. There was no trouble.”
“A grizzly? You mean, a bear?” Molly said, sitting up a little straighter and glancing warily around.
“One of the biggest bears on the North American continent,” Jessie agreed. “Beautiful, too, but they can be dangerous.”
Molly felt comforted by the solid log wall she leaned against. Surely no bear would attack them here. She thought about taking a bite of her ham sandwich but didn’t have the strength to lift it to her mouth. “I don’t suppose this honeymoon retreat of yours has a hot tub?”
“No,” Jessie said with a sympathetic laugh. “Just a very cold creek, though there’s a place about a quarter mile downstream where a hot spring makes bathing quite comfortable.”
“That’s a quarter mile too far for me, I’m afraid,” Molly murmured. The sandwich was so heavy she had to rest it in her lap. Two thick slices of Ramalda’s most excellent homemade bread, two equally thick slices of ham bracketing a thick slice of cheese. She was hungry, starving, famished, but her arms, like the rest of her body, lacked all strength. She wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to stand up ever again. She was contemplating closing her eyes and passing out when she heard one of the boys shout.
“Buffalo! We found the buffalo!”
She heard the drum of hoofbeats and looked to her right. The boys were racing their horses toward the cabin, Roon in the lead. They crossed the creek in wild plumes of spray and drew rein practically right at their feet, the horses tossing their heads and snorting.
“Where?” Pony said calmly, never flinching.
“In the little valley just above this one. It looks like they’re heading over the next pass to Horseshoe Pond and the headwaters of the Silver.”
Jessie brightened. “Good news. That’s less than a mile from here. Let’s eat and ride.”
STEVEN SAT OUT in the sun like Molly suggested and even fell asleep like that after eating Ramalda’s bounteous lunch. A nap seemed natural, and his body soaked up the heat of the September sun like it was a kind of medicine. Maybe Molly was right. Maybe it would heal up the bruises and cuts on his face. He’d like that. The idea of attending another public meeting while resembling a slab of roadkill was unappealing, especially since he knew there’d be a lot of press there, eager for more bloody pictures, more front-line stories. And so he sat in the soothing warmth and drifted off to the lulling sounds of the Bow and Arrow, and when he woke it was late afternoon and the sun was westering and Molly wasn’t back yet.
He pushed out of his chair and stood and looked over at the place where the old Indian trace came down by the creek. The afternoon was warm and sleepy, redolent of ripe blackberries and freshly mown hay, buzzing with crickets and cicadas. It was beautiful and peaceful, but there was no Molly. They should have been back by now. They should have returned while Ramalda was dishing up the lamb stew and yeast rolls that were his lunch. The boys should have been filling his head with visions of wild stampedes and angry grizzlies. Pony should have been quietly amending their fabrications and helping Ramalda with the evening meal. Caleb should have been expounding on the importance of his keeping that old rifle of Luther’s clean and safe. Badger should have been leaning back on the wall bench, working on a fresh chaw of tobacco and ruminating on the days when he was young and the West was still wild.
But the place was as quiet as a tomb, and he cat-footed across the porch and sneaked a peek into the kitchen. Ramalda was slicing big ripe tomatoes into a huge pot on top of the cookstove. Steven watched for a moment, and then back-pedaled onto the porch again and stood looking at the place down by the creek where he knew they would emerge when they came. But where were they? They’d been gone since before sunup, and here it was, late afternoon. This was Molly’s first time on a horse, and though he’d tried to warn her, she was of the stubborn persuasion that she could handle anything the Bow and Arrow could hurl at her.
And maybe she
could. He wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. She was tough and fierce and determined, and could probably hold her own in the midst of a tornado, but dammit, he was worried about her. She’d suffered some rough knocks in the past few days, and…
And what was that? A flash of movement where before there’d been none. A bird flushing out of the brush. A horse down by the pole barn suddenly wheeling about, pricking its ears, and whinnying a plaintive welcome. And yes. Here they came, here at last, one by one, threading slowly through the brush along the creek where the trail merged with the beaten cow paths. The horses had their heads down, weary. The riders…hard to tell. Where was Molly? Steven started down the porch steps and heard movement behind him. Ramalda came out onto the porch, knife in hand, squinting her eyes at the same place he’d been studying for so long.
“Biene,” she said with a satisfied nod. “They come.”
Steven met them down by the corral. He didn’t want to appear as if he’d had anything but the laziest and best of times. He leaned against the open gate, waiting until they rode their horses into the corral, all of them, and then he closed the gate behind them and walked up to where Molly sat on the small brown gelding. He stopped by her knee, put his hand upon it and felt her muscles quiver. Her eyes locked with his and she leaned ever so slightly over her horse’s shoulder.
“Did you see the buffalo?” he said.
Her expression held an emotion he couldn’t quite grasp, but he thought that given enough time, and he craved time with Molly more than anything, he could come to know and love every mystery she embodied. “Yes,” she said.
And that was all.
AN HOUR LATER they had said their goodbyes and were leaving the Bow and Arrow. Steven had enjoyed the stay but was relieved to be leaving, if only because it meant being alone with Molly for the drive back to his place. She curled on the seat beneath a blanket he’d pulled out of the back in deference to the chilly evening. Every once in a while she would shift position slightly and the movement would bring a soft moan of agony. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it to work tomorrow,” she said. “You were so right, Steven. Riding up that mountain today was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done.”
“But you saw the buffalo.”
She sighed. “When they spotted us they moved away and broke into this strange kind of run. Pony said they didn’t like having the horses get too near them. She said if we were in a vehicle we could have gotten closer, but I thought we were plenty close. They were huge. And then we came back down the mountain.”
“You did well. That was a hard ride.”
“My first and last. And Steven, for future reference, I’ll be happy with just those two puppies and the cottage by the river. Forget the horses and the buffalo.” He glanced at her and she caught his eye. “What are you smiling about?”
“I was just wondering. If you weren’t an attorney, what would you be?”
“Definitely not a cowgirl,” she responded, flinching as she shifted position. “An architect, perhaps. That was my alternate major, and I actually took a bunch of electives in that field. I’d be designing interesting and unique buildings. On the other hand, maybe I’d be a race-car driver or an astronaut. Then again, I always thought it might be fun to marry a man who was so disgustingly rich that I didn’t have to do anything at all but lounge around in expensive clothing, contemplating the next charity fund-raiser or where might be a novel place to summer in Europe.”
“Somehow I can’t see you living that way.”
“Neither can I,” she murmured, cautiously propping herself up to look out the window. “So, being that I’m a working girl, Monday I’ll go back to work. That is, if I can walk, and if I still have a job.”
“If they were going to fire you, they would have done it on Friday after your statement to the press. But if you had lost your job, would it be the end of the world?”
Molly was silent for a long while, gazing out the side window. “Yes,” she said. “I think it would be devastating to my career to be fired from such a prestigious law firm.”
“Prestigious isn’t the word I’d use. You could always resign.”
She shook her head. “I made those damning public statements just to keep my job, which I wouldn’t have done if I were going to resign. Yes, they threw me to the wolves, but maybe I deserved it for being so ignorant about the road permitting process. I’ve learned my lesson. This will blow over, and in a week’s time nobody’ll even remember what all the fuss was about.”
“What about next time?”
“There won’t be any next time.” Molly stared back out the window, her chin lifting in that defiant way.
“You’re probably right,” Steven said, wishing he’d never started the conversation that had destroyed her peaceful mood. They drove in silence for a long while, long enough for him to think of a hundred things to say to make her ease back in her seat and relax again, but before he could voice a single one she turned abruptly to face him.
“Steven, if you’re so anti-Taintor, Skelton and Goldstein, why won’t you talk to me about the lawsuit you brought against the Soldier Mountain mine?”
“Because you still work for Taintor, Skelton and Goldstein, and discussing the Soldier Mountain lawsuit with you would be a definite conflict of interest.”
“Mr. Skelton told me that lawsuit nearly landed you in jail.”
Her unexpected statement caused Steven’s grip on the steering wheel to tighten, but he kept his eyes on the road and made no response.
“If I resigned, would you talk to me about it then?”
Steven groped for the right answer, but the right answer didn’t exist. There was just an ocean of murky gray waves that he couldn’t begin to navigate. Her question hung in the air and with each passing mile the silence grew more formidable until finally she curled up again, her back to him, shutting him out. “Well, it doesn’t matter, Young Bear. You can keep your all-important secrets forever, because I’m not resigning,” she said.
WITH EVERY MILE that brought her closer to her own world, Molly felt the peace she’d experienced at the Bow and Arrow draining out of her. It was late when they reached Steven’s place. He parked the Jeep beside Molly’s car and cut the ignition. The silence between them filled a universe. Molly could feel her heart beating a rapid, painful cadence in her breast. She drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“For a little while life was perfect, wasn’t it?” she said softly.
“Come inside,” Steven said. “I’ll make a pot of coffee.”
Molly shook her head. “I have to get going.” She willed herself to move, to get out of the Jeep and leave before she did something weak and silly like break down and cry. She was so tired and discouraged. She reached for the door handle, hoping her legs were up to the task of getting her as far as her car.
“Stay the night.”
Molly felt the tears stinging at the back of her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered around the lump in her throat.
“I’ll wake you early. You’ll be on the road by six and in your office by nine. I promise you will, and I’m a man of my word.”
Molly nodded in the darkness. “I know that,” she said. “But I need to be alone right now to think this through. I’m so confused about us. I don’t understand why you would take me to that mine, offer to take me to the reservation, and then slam the door in my face when I want to learn more.” She fumbled for the door handle again and this time she wrenched the door open and got out. Her legs screamed silent protest but they did her bidding. She had her car keys in her hand and was in the driver’s seat before Steven could reach her. She turned the key in the ignition as he approached.
“Molly, please don’t leave like this.”
“Like what, Steven?” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “Like a woman who’s been shut out completely by the man she’s hopelessly in love with because he so obviously doesn’t trust her?” She shifted into reverse. “How do you expe
ct me to feel?”
He braced his hands on her car door and leaned in her window. “I trust you, Molly, you know I do, but the Soldier Mountain lawsuit isn’t about trust. Look at me. You think I had a fun time with those truckers? That’s the level of blind rage we’re talking about here, and it can get much worse, believe me it can. I don’t want anything like that ever happening to you. Don’t you understand?”
Molly stared at him, shaken by his words. “Oh, Steven,” she said softly, broken by the passion she saw in him and the realization that he truly cared for her. “Don’t you understand that everything that happens to you, happens to me, too?” She shifted into first gear and pulled away before he could reply.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE NEXT MORNING Molly’s physical and emotional states were at such an all-time low that not even bright sunshine, multiple cups of strong coffee or the long hot soak in the tub could dispel the aches in her muscles or the black depression that shadowed her as she drove to the office. She half-expected to see someone else’s name on her reserved parking sign, and her climb up the granite steps was slow and painful. In her office, she was relieved that everything looked the same. Her pictures still hung on the walls, her books lined the shelves, and her desk was just as she had left it—yet everything felt strangely different. The place had changed somehow.
Or perhaps she was the one who had changed. Perhaps the time spent at the Bow and Arrow had altered her perceptions enough to throw her off-balance in a world she thought she knew and understood…and wanted to belong to. She sat down at her desk, placed her briefcase on the floor beside her, and drew a deep, steadying breath. It was exactly 9:00 a.m. If the firm was going to ask for her resignation, it would probably happen today, before the public meeting on Tuesday. That way, Taintor, Skelton and Goldstein could wash their hands of her and present a clean slate to the public on the New Millennium Mining proposal. Brad had assured her that this would never happen, but…
Montana Standoff Page 17
