by Nancy M Bell
“Huh? That’s interesting. I wonder if Joey’s heard any stories like that from his aunties and uncles.”
“How many relatives does he have?” Coll glanced down at her.
“Not too many actual family members, but all the elders and band members are his aunties and uncles.” Laurel laughed.
They ambled through the thick grass, winding through the trees looking for a likely spot to find artifacts. Laurel wasn’t really disappointed they hadn’t found anything so far. It was nice just to be alone with Coll in one of her favourite places.
“Hey! What’s that over there?” Coll released her hand and plunged off through the trees.
“I don’t see anything.” Laurel ran to catch up with him. She banged into his back when he stopped without warning. “Uofff! What is it? Is it Coal?” She ducked around him. “God damn it all to hell,” she swore.
“What is that thing?” Coll gestured toward a crude chute leading to a pen roughly made from sapling cottonwood and aspen.
“It’s a horse trap.” Laurel stalked over to the structure and yanked at the rails of the chute. “They haven’t even issued the permits yet. I bet I know who did this.” She kicked one of the posts.
“A horse trap? For the wild horses, you mean?” Coll joined her beside the pen. “Look there’s salt blocks in there.” He pointed to the middle of the enclosure.
“Of course, there is,” Laurel growled in disgust. “They’re using it to bait the horses, get them used to going in and out of the thing so they’ll be easier to herd in there when the time comes.”
“Is that legal?”
“Probably. The laws sure don’t protect the wildies. C’mon, help me.” Laurel yanked on the top rail of the pen. “Stupid thing won’t move.”
“Do we have anything in the saddle bags? We’re supposed to be checking your dad’s fences, not chasing wild horses.”
“You’re brilliant, Coll!” Laurel threw her arms around him and kissed him. “Let’s go bring the horses here. That pen is coming down.” Without waiting for him to respond, she raced back toward the grazing horses, slowing to a walk before she reached them. It was only the work of few minutes to bridle them and tighten the cinch. Swinging into the saddle she kept the mare’s reins in one hand and jogged back to meet Coll.
“Here.” She tossed him the reins when he came alongside her.
Coll caught them, swung up onto his horse, and followed her back to the pen. Laurel slid off Sam and ground tied him before yanking the fencing pliers, another hammer, and a short crowbar out of the saddlebags. She handed Coll the hammer before attacking the chute with the crowbar.
“Start on the pen,” she ordered Coll. She yanked the top rail off and tossed it into the underbrush. Swatting at flies attracted to the smell of sweat and disturbed earth, Laurel didn’t take a breather until the first side of the chute was demolished. She pulled the tail of her shirt out of her jeans and wiped the grime and sweat from her face. “You’re making good progress,” she remarked looking at what was left of the pen.
“Are you sure this is okay? I mean who ever built this thing is going to be pretty aggro when they discover what we’ve done,” Coll sounded worried. “Gramma will marmalize me if I get into trouble while I’m here. And I don’t even want to think about what your dad will do to us.”
“You think I care what Cory Cullen thinks about this?” Laurel stuffed her shirt back in her jeans and attacked the other side of the chute.
“We’re destroying your neighbor’s property? This can’t end well, you know that right?”
“Just keep ripping that thing down. We won’t leave any evidence that it was us who did this, okay?”
“They won’t suspect it was us?” Coll resumed breaking down the last side of the pen.
“Maybe, maybe not. If he can’t prove anything he can’t pin it on us. There!” She tossed the last pole into the brush. Stamping into the centre of the destroyed pen she hefted the big square salt block and tossed it into the bushes as well. Then she set about scuffing up the prints their boots left in the soft earth. Coll joined her, looking over his shoulder every other second.
“There!” Laurel dusted her hands on her jeans. “Thanks for helping.” She looped her arms around Coll and kissed him. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss until Laurel forgot everything except the touch of his lips and his body pressed against her. When he lifted his head, she strained upward to regain his lips.
“Laurel,” his voice was hoarse, “we have to stop.” He rested his forehead against hers.
“Why?” Her own voice sounded odd to her ears.
“Because…just because. This isn’t the time or the place, what if someone comes to check on the pen?”
“I guess you’re right.” Reluctantly, she let Coll release her. Then she spun back and pulled his head down to kiss him hard on the lips. “Later.” She grinned and went to get the horses.
They were mounted and rode out of the trees back toward the river crossing. Laurel loosened her reins to let Sam drink and Coll followed her example. Leaning forward with a forearm on the saddle horn he regarded Laurel from under the brim of his hat.
“You don’t think they’ll just go back and rebuild it?”
“Probably. And there’s probably more than one of those things out there.”
“So, what’s the point of what we did today?” He straightened up when Jewel finished drinking.
“The point is there’s one less out here right now. We’re gonna need help. Joey will be all for it, and…I don’t know about Carly. She hates the fact her dad and brother use the cull as a way to make money…but…”
“Why not just bring up the subject and see how she reacts. Without actually saying what you’re planning to do, I mean.” Coll led the way across the river and up the far bank.
“I suppose. I’m gonna call Joey when we get home.” Laurel gave Sam his head and let him plunge up the far bank. At the top, he stiffened and whinnied just as Coll’s mare did the same.
“Bloody hell!” Coll controlled the excited horse. “What’s wrong with her all of a sudden?”
“Look!” Laurel pointed across the coulee. A sturdy black horse stood on a rise a good half mile down the coulee. “It’s Coal! I knew he should be around here somewhere. Isn’t he magnificent?”
“That’s Coal? He’s not as big as I thought he’d be.” Coll squinted into the sun.
“He’s big enough if you get close to him,” Laurel said not taking her eyes off the horse.
Tossing his head and making his mane fly around him, the black horse trotted down the slope and proceeded to round up a small band of mares, his steps elevated, neck arched, and his tail flagged. The short broad haunches bunched and glistened in the sun while he set his mares in motion.
“He’s pretty impressive, isn’t he? How can anyone want to take him away from all this?” Laurel swung one arm wide, the other keeping a firm hold on the reins of her excited mount.
The last mare disappeared over the rise of ground. The stocky stud horse paused on the top as if daring them to follow him. His loud bugle of challenge carried across the coulee and set their horses dancing beneath them. Then he was gone with a last flick of his thick tail.
* * *
“Can I speak to Joey, please,” Laurel spoke low in case her parents were lurking nearby.
“I’m sorry, Laurel. Joey’s gone with his dad to the Sun Dance. You only just caught me. I’m on my way out the door myself. Today is the tree raising, Joey and Harry went down to the river yesterday to help build the arbour. We won’t be home until after the weekend. I’ll tell him you called. There’s no cell service at the site, so you’ll have to wait.”
“That’s okay, Mrs. Good Smoke. Please ask him to call me when he gets home.”
She hung up the phone and shrugged at Coll. “Joey’s gone to a Sun Dance and won’t be back until after the weekend.”
“What’s a Sun Dance?” Coll frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever hear
d of that.”
“It’s a First Nations ritual, kind of a combination celebration and cleansing. It’s a really spiritual thing, Sarie would be so interested. Joey let me come watch one time, but it’s not something a person can talk about unless they’ve been invited and seen what they do.”
“Okay, I guess.” Coll frowned at her and then smiled. “So, what do we do in the meantime?”
“We keep looking for pens and traps and do what we did today.”
“Laurel, Coll, there you are. You were gone a long time. Did you have to do any fence repairs? Those damn deer and prong horns rub those posts right out of the ground when the ticks and flies are bad.” Colt appeared in the bathroom door drying his hands on a towel.
Laurel glanced at Coll and willed him to keep his face straight. “Just a bit, Dad. The fences weren’t too bad, at least the ones we looked at.”
“Did you see any horses?” Colt eyed his daughter sternly. “You didn’t get close, did you?”
“We saw Coal and his band but only from across the river,” Laurel admitted.
“See that you steer clear of them. Cory says that stud has been really aggressive, claims he stole two of his young mares last week.”
Laurel shook her head. “I didn’t see any new mares in his band. I think Mr. Cullen just has a hate on for the wildies.”
“Be that as it may, Laurie. Keep clear of them.” Colt Rowan continued toward the stairs.
“Supper’s almost ready, Laurel! You two go and wash up,” Anna called from the kitchen. “You too, Colt.”
“I’ll be down in a minute, darlin’” Colt’s voice echoed down the stair well.
Chapter Six
“Joey, hey! How was your weekend?” Laurel picked up when her phone vibrated against her hip. The young horse she was putting miles on for her dad shifted under her and she soothed him with a hand on his neck.
“It was great. I love going with Grampa and Dad and keeping the old ways alive. Mom said you called. What’s up?”
“Are you alone? Can you talk?”
“Yeah, I’m out by the corrals. What is it?”
“Coll and I were out riding, checking fences, but we found a catch pen someone set up in the cottonwoods down in the coulee. You know, where Coal and his band hangs out all the time?”
“Damn! I thought they hadn’t issued any permits yet. Is the cull on for sure? What did you do?”
“Hang on a minute.” Laurel pulled the anxious gelding to a halt and slid out of the saddle. “There, that’s better. Sorry, I’m working that young Leo colt for Dad. He’s got the wind under his tail today.” She laughed. The horse relaxed and stood quietly at her side. “I don’t know about any permits, but there was sure as hell a catch pen with salt blocks in it.”
“Is that legal?”
“Don’t know. And even if it was, who’s going to enforce anything?”
“Is it still there? What do you want to do?”
Laurel glanced over her shoulder, just in case her dad was watching. “Coll and I took it down. But there’ll be more before they’re done, I bet. We need to keep checking.”
“We need to figure out a better solution, you know. At some point we’re gonna get caught,” Joey worried.
“I know. But we can’t just stand back and do nothing. Those horses haven’t done anything wrong and they’re not hurting anything. You got any ideas?”
“Not right now. I can ride out that way this afternoon, it borders our land. I’ll keep my eyes out for anything that looks suspicious,” Joey promised.
“I can’t help today, Dad has a couple of other young ones he wants me to work and he’s got Coll out driving the hay rake.” She giggled. “You should have seen his face when he climbed up into the cab. Stereo and air conditioning. Dad went with him for the first few rounds of the quarter and then left him to it.”
“Better him than me,” Joey said. “Radio or no, I get bored out of my mind going round and round. Nobody thinks my tractor’s sexy.” Laughing, Joey ended the call.
Laurel shoved her phone into her back pocket, gathered the reins and stepped back up onto the buckskin gelding. Nudging him with her calves she set him jogging around the perimeter of the big round pen.
Finished with his schooling for the day, Laurel dismounted and led the buckskin into the barn where she stripped the tack from him. A dark patch marked where the saddle had sat and there was a thin layer of white froth on his neck. Leading him into the wash stall she hosed him down and slicked the excess water away with a sweat scraper. Fishing a couple of pieces of krunch out of her pocket she fed him the treats while taking him back to the pen of youngsters. She gave him a last pat before slipping the halter off his head and releasing him.
A pretty bay filly with a white star obligingly stuck her head into the halter Laurel held out to her. The heat of the sun stuck Laurel’s shirt to her back. The slight breeze from the west did nothing to cool her off, it was like a hot wave rolling over the prairie. Only two more to go. She brought the filly into the welcome shade of the barn. In short order she had the horse tacked up and resumed her circling of the round pen, alternating between walk, jog and lope. She was sure to include periods of halt and standing quietly. Dad hated horses that fussed in the on-deck enclosure. He’d have Laurel’s hide if she ever let a horse get away with that kind of nonsense. She sighed. Sometimes it took more patience and time than she wished, Laurel gritted her teeth as she settled the filly again.
By the time both remaining horses were worked, Coll was rumbling back into the barnyard in the huge tractor, the hay rake rattling behind him. Parking the equipment where he’d found it earlier, Coll clambered down from the cab.
“Bloody hell!” He arched his back and stretched. “I’ve got cramps and aches where I didn’t know I had muscles.”
Laurel laughed at him and fell into step beside him as they headed toward the house. “Think how hard it was before when there weren’t any cabs or air conditioning. Or worse when they used horses.”
Coll glanced at the wide stretch of prairie and shook his head. “That would have taken forever.”
“For sure, but back in the day nobody worked that big an acreage. It just wasn’t possible. But, forget that. I talked to Joey today.”
“What did he say?” Coll took off his hat and slapped it on his thigh. His blond hair was plastered to his forehead and a big cowlick stuck straight up on the crown of his head.
“Hat head!” Laurel grinned and then sobered. “He didn’t know anything about the horse trap. He’s riding out that way today so he’s gonna watch for anything that looks out of place.”
“We still need a plan. Pulling pens apart is just a stop gap measure. Those horses need a permanent solution.” Coll scrubbed his head and tried to flatten the cowlick.
“What happens in Cornwall? You know all those ponies around the Hurlers on Bodmin Moor? Nobody bothers them. Or those New Forest Ponies? Aren’t they protected?” Laurel stopped on the wide porch steps.
“I think they are. Nobody seems to mind about them anyway. But it sure is different here.” Coll jammed his hat back on his head.
“We’ll have to think on it. Maybe Joey or his dad will have an idea.” Laurel moved toward the door.
“Laurel, Coll, dinner!” Anna Rowan stood in the doorway. “Oh, there you are. Hurry, get washed up now.”
“Coming, Mom,” Laurel said. “We’ll just be a minute.”
* * *
“I mentioned the horse trap to my dad,” Joey remarked.
Laurel and her two friends rode side by side across the short grass, heat waves shimmering over the prairie. The smell of curing hay mixed with the faint sent of crushed wild flowers under foot and dry dust blown by the hot wind.
“What did he say about it?” Laurel twisted in her saddle to see him better.
“He wasn’t too happy to hear about it. You know he loves those horses as much as we do.”
“Did he have any ideas?” Coll frowned into the distance.<
br />
“No. He wasn’t too happy about me getting involved with any tearing down of other people’s property.”
“But it’s illegal! Or it should be,” Laurel exclaimed. “He won’t say anything, will he? Dad would kill me if he knew I was involved with sabotaging Mr. Cullen’s trap.”
Joey shook his head. “Nope. He hates how those horses get treated. I think he might be willing to help us, if we need it.”
“Really? He’d really help us?” Laurel’s heart leapt in excitement. If Harry would help them, maybe there was something they could do about the situation. Harry Good Smoke was aware of the young people’s obsession with the wild horses and encouraged it. Maybe there was hope for Coal and his band after all.
“He said to wait and see how things shook out. Maybe the government will change their mind about the cull.” Joey shook his head and clucked to his stocky pinto gelding. “This one came from Coal’s band, you know. The mare got killed and Pa found this little guy by her body. Brought him home and we raised him. Pa let me help break him.”
“He was born wild? That’s brill!” Coll exclaimed turning to take a better look at the horse walking calmly by the side of his horse.
“A horse is a horse. Treat ’em right and gentle them without scarin’ the crap out of them and the wildies are the best horses you could ever have.” Joey ran a hand down the thick neck and tossed the long mane all to one side.
“That’s true, Joey. But I’d rather see them stay wild, the way they were born. Iinii is different, he was an orphan and he’d never have survived on his own,” Laurel said.
“That’s an odd name. What does it mean?” Coll reined his horse closer to Joey.
“Iinii is buffalo in my language,” Joey told him.
“Well, I never! That’s right brilliant,” Coll exclaimed. “What’s the word for horse?”
