“Yeah.”
“So listen, I’ll pick you up around five…unless, that is, she sends you packing early.” He laughed.
Danny had wondered about that.
The night before, Danny had worked up his nerve and called Meg. He’d told her about Spike taking Banjo, and how it went with Mr. Brodie. He was feeling so good, he asked if he could visit her. He’d been thinking of her constantly, of how she’d cared for Banjo, and how she wasn’t about to give him up until she knew he was in good hands. He liked her for that. A lot…even though she’d thought he was a skunk.
Meg Harris.
He smiled.
Tyrell drove up the drive. “Look.”
Meg was sitting on a bale of hay, reading something with a cat in her lap.
“She’s waiting for you. In case you’re not picking up on it, that’s a good sign.”
Danny dried his palms on his jeans as Tyrell pulled up. He tucked Ruby under one arm and got out, jamming her leash in his back pocket.
Meg set the cat down and jumped up. “A puppy!”
Danny handed her over. “Her name’s Ruby.”
He grabbed the two fishing rigs out of the truck. “Thanks, Tyrell. See you around five.”
Tyrell gave Danny and Meg a two-finger salute and drove off.
“She’s so cute!” Meg said. “Ruby. What a beautiful name. Where’d you get her?”
“You won’t believe this, but Mr. Brodie gave her to me.”
“You’re kidding.”
Danny reached over and scratched Ruby’s head. “He lost four sheep to wild dogs and coyotes last year, which is why he was so dead set on going after Banjo. He was just being a rancher. But he felt bad when Dad told him I’d shot my own dog, so he brought Ruby over. His border collie had a litter of ’em.”
“I guess you just never know about people, do you?” Meg said.
“Ain’t that the truth.” Danny thought of what he’d expected at Spike’s house. And he’d been wrong about Mr. Brodie, too, and even Dad.
He nodded to the card in her hand. “Mail?”
Meg looked at it, as if just remembering she had it. “Oh. Yeah. It’s from my friend Josie. She sent this from Seattle.”
Danny nodded. “Been to Seattle once. Big place. Huge.”
Meg laughed. “That’s just what she wrote on this card. Funny.”
They fell silent. Looked at Ruby.
“I miss Banjo,” Danny said. “He was the best dog.”
“Jacob had a dog once, but he got kicked by one of the horses. It was awful. We never got another one.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah…So what do you want to do?”
“I brought some fly rods. Thought maybe we could find a stream and catch some trout. You like to fish?”
Meg wrinkled her nose.
“What?”
“I don’t like to kill things.”
“I use barbless hooks and throw them back.”
“Do you, now.”
He liked the way she was squinting at him, eyes lit up with some kind of mischief.
“Are you a hunter?”
That took Danny by surprise. “Well…sure. Everybody hunts. Around here.”
“I don’t believe people should kill animals. I think it’s wrong.”
“Okay.”
He could live with that.
“What does okay mean?” Meg asked.
“Well, I guess it means it’s fine with me that you don’t believe people should hunt.”
“Good.”
Meg started over to the arena. “Come.”
Danny took Ruby and leashed her. In the arena, the spunky horse watched them approach, head high, ears forward.
“What grade are you in?” Meg asked.
Man, she sure changes directions. “Uh, just finished seventh.”
“Hey, me too!”
“Cool.”
Meg climbed up on the first rung of the fence and hung her arms over the top. Danny hung his over, too, only he could do it from the ground. His arm brushed hers. They glanced at each other, and heat flushed over Danny’s face. But neither of them moved their arm away.
He turned back to the horse. “Mustang?”
“Good eye. I got him over in Prineville from a guy who couldn’t handle him. I call him Amigo…but he’s not all that friendly. I’ve been working with him, or trying to. He’s still got a lot of wild in him.”
“So he’s not saddle broke?”
“Look at him,” Meg said. “He’s watching us. No, he’s not ready for a saddle. I haven’t even put a halter on him. I’m still trying to earn his trust.”
Amigo took a few steps closer, following the fence to get a better look at Meg and Danny.
“Mind if I try?” he asked, tying Ruby’s leash to the fence.
“Try what?”
“Put a halter on him.”
Meg studied Amigo. “Let’s both do it. I’ll get a halter.”
“Get a saddle blanket, too.”
She smiled. He didn’t know how hard she’d worked just to get close to Amigo. He’d soon find out how wary this horse was. She shrugged. “What’s the harm?”
She headed to the barn.
When she came back with the halter and saddle blanket, Danny was out in the arena heading toward Amigo, slow and patient. Meg tossed the saddle blanket on the top rail of the fence.
She crossed her arms and watched.
Amigo eyed Danny, then huffed and burst away, running stiff-legged to the other side.
Meg grinned.
Danny started after him, but Meg called, “I got this.”
Danny nodded.
She headed out into the arena. When Amigo stopped to watch her, she angled away, turning her back on him. Amigo tossed his head, keeping his eyes on her.
Danny leaned against the fence.
Meg kept on walking away from Amigo.
After a moment, Amigo started to follow her, neck stretched, head low. When she stopped, Amigo stopped. When she went on, Amigo went on.
Danny smiled. Something special is going on between those two.
Meg picked up a handful of dirt, and let it run through her fingers.
Amigo crept closer, sniffing the air. Meg couldn’t help but think of the old saying about cats and their curiosity. She grinned. Come on, Amigo. Investigate.
Amigo stopped three feet behind her.
Over her shoulder, Meg said, “Don’t you worry about that guy over by the fence, Amigo. Just think about you and me. Let’s show him what we can do.”
Meg eased around to face him. She kept from looking into his eyes, which seemed to be important to him. She walked closer and very slowly reached out to lay her hand on his neck.
Amigo gave a slight flick of his head.
She waited a moment, then stroked and rubbed his cheek. “There we go, now, there we go.”
Danny nodded. Beautiful.
Meg reached back and pulled the halter from her back pocket. She held it out for Amigo to sniff. Then she rubbed it along his neck and shoulders, which he didn’t seem to mind. “Nothing here to worry about,” she whispered.
She stroked Amigo’s face and slipped the halter over his ears.
Amigo tossed his head, and she quickly pulled the halter off.
It was the closest she’d ever come.
Danny watched, spellbound. That wild horse could kick a nail into a two-by-four, and there he was accepting Meg’s hand.
Meg felt light-headed. Breathe. Breathe.
Danny headed over, a huge grin on his face. He stopped halfway and said, low, “He’s learning to trust you.”
“I know,” Meg said, barely loud enough to hear.
Danny’s skin tingled.
“That was amazing.”
She looked at him and almost went over to hug him but caught herself.
Danny looked away. “I’ll go get…you know…the blanket.”
“Yeah! The blanket.”
He started toward the fence.
“Amigo,” Meg whispered. “See that boy? His name is Danny, our new amigo. I think you’re going to like him as much as I do.”
66
THREE DAYS LATER
It was hot and dry, with no breeze to cool them off.
Danny and Tyrell were doing chores when Tyrell set the wheelbarrow down. He snapped his fingers and nodded toward the west pasture. Two sheep had gotten in. “Brodie boys can’t fix a fence for beans.”
He and Danny headed out and found another one.
“Wonder if there’s more over the ridge,” Danny said.
“Let’s herd these back and take a look.”
Danny whistled for Ruby, who stumbled out from the hay shed. When she saw the sheep, she perked up and ran toward them.
The sheep stirred and hurried back over the ridge.
“Go, Ruby!” Danny called.
Tyrell laughed.
At the top of the rise, Danny and Tyrell looked down at the fence that separated their place from Brodie’s. Three more sheep were on their side, grazing on the slope below.
“Ruby, stay!” Danny said.
She sat but kept an eye on the sheep.
Danny and Tyrell separated to funnel them down the rise. As they neared the Brodies’ fence, Tyrell stooped and picked something out of the grass.
“What is it?” Danny asked.
Tyrell held it up. Another beer bottle.
“What’s going on out here?”
Tyrell sniffed it. “Someone must have come in off the road and passed through.”
Danny looked toward the highway, then back over to miles of rolling rangeland to the north. “Passing through to where?”
“Beats me.” Tyrell stuck the bottle in his back pocket. “Dad should know people are coming through our pasture.”
Danny frowned. “That just doesn’t make sense. There’s nowhere to go.”
Tyrell shrugged.
They continued herding the sheep toward the fence.
“Looks like they broke out in the same spot as the last two times,” Tyrell said.
The wire had come loose and was bowed out where dogs or coyotes had dug under it. Danny put his hands on his hips. “Maybe it would be better if we just fixed it for them.”
“Let’s do it. That loose spot’s probably how Banjo and those dogs got in.”
“Nope,” Danny said.
Tyrell looked at him. “What does that mean?”
“Banjo didn’t chase Brodie’s sheep.”
“He must have been doing something over there.”
Danny jammed his hands in his pockets.
Tyrell turned to head back up the hill. “Get those sheep through the fence. I’ll grab some tools.”
It took some doing, but Danny got them all through. As he stood waiting for Tyrell, he noticed the remains of a small campfire near a rock outcropping on the Brodie side. He frowned. Even though it seemed to have been properly put out, making fires in this dry country was not a good idea.
Still…
A campfire? Here?
* * *
• • •
They were installing new clips on a green metal post when the Brodie boys came bouncing through the pasture in their ATV.
Billy jumped out and reached back for his rifle. “What are you doing? That’s our fence.”
Tyrell said, “Why, that’s a mighty neighborly greeting there, Billy boy.”
Ben squeezed out of the ATV. “Hey, Danny, Tyrell. What are you doing to our fence?”
“Far as I can tell, there’s a hole in it. Am I wrong about that, Danny?”
“Nope.”
“One more time,” Billy said. “What are you doing?”
Danny threw another shovel of dirt into the hole under the fence. Then another. Something was eating at him, an idea, a thought. He could feel heat rising in his neck.
Tyrell dropped a large rock on the dirt, blocking the hole. “Your sheep got through again. That makes three times in six months. Same hole. Probably the same sheep.” He looked across the fence at Billy. “Someone had to fix it right.”
Billy’s face reddened. “You saying we didn’t?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“That’s probably how your dog got in,” Ben said.
“You mean that one?” Danny nodded toward Ruby sitting up on the rise.
Tyrell laughed.
Billy held the rifle across his chest. “Pretty sneaky how you tricked our old man into letting your dog off like he did.”
Danny was getting it now. The campfire. The empty beer bottles.
He stabbed the shovel into the ground and glared across the fence. “My dog didn’t chase anything, did he, Billy? You made that up, didn’t you?”
“It’s true!” Billy said. “He attacked our sheep! He was with a pack of wild dogs.”
Danny glared at him. “You lied to your dad.”
Billy stepped closer to the fence. “Who lied to whose dad?”
Danny nearly exploded. But Billy was right.
Ben shouldered in next to his brother. “Your dog was…was attacking our sheep…right up there on that hill, and…and Billy winged him, right, Billy?”
Billy elbowed Ben: Shut up.
“Ow!”
Danny kept his eyes on Billy. “That’s the same story you told the first time. I missed it then, but Ben just now laid it out. You shot Banjo on the hillside, which is on our side of the fence. So how could he chase your sheep? He wasn’t even in your pasture.”
Billy’s mouth pinched tight. His face reddened.
Danny turned to Tyrell. “Show him what you found.”
Tyrell gave Danny a look, then he nodded. He took the bottle from his back pocket and held it up.
Billy’s jaw dropped, just slightly.
That was all Danny needed. He knew it! He had it right. He could feel blood pulsing in his temples. “You two snuck out here in the middle of the night. You made a campfire, right over there…and you sneaked out some of your dad’s beer. Then you thought it would be fun to toss the bottles over to our place. That’s it, isn’t it, Billy?”
Ben looked at Billy.
Billy’s eyes were glued to Danny’s. “That’s a crock.”
Danny wasn’t done. “You had your rifle. Maybe you brought it with you for cougars, or Big Foot, but you saw Banjo up there on the rise, just sitting there trying to see what was going on, and you thought it would be fun to take a shot at him. That’s what happened.”
Billy took a step back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ben looked away.
“Look at them squirm,” Tyrell said. “You’re calling this one right, Danny.”
Billy spat. “Come on, Ben. Let’s get out of here.”
They started toward the ATV.
“Hold on,” Tyrell said. “Come here a minute.”
They stopped and looked back.
“What for?” Billy said.
“I want to see that rifle.”
Billy snorted. “Ain’t going to happen.”
“No, really. There’s something wrong with it. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Billy looked at the rifle.
“Give it to me,” Tyrell said. “I’ll show you.”
Billy hesitated, then handed the rifle over the fence. “What’s wrong with it?”
Tyrell studied it, turning it in his hands. “Your dad’s rifle, right?”
“So?”
T
yrell handed it to Danny. “What do you think?”
“Hey,” Billy said. “Give that back.”
Danny inspected it and handed it back to Tyrell. “Someone could get hurt, all right.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Give me the rifle!”
Ben moved closer. “So what’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing,” Billy barked. “And now he’s going to give it back.”
Tyrell shook his head. “Can’t do that. A firearm in the hands of someone who doesn’t know how to use it is dangerous. Am I right, Danny?”
Danny kept his eyes on Billy. “Yep.”
The veins in Billy’s neck bulged. “Give that back! Right now, or I’m taking it.”
Danny picked up the shovel and rested it on his shoulders like a baseball bat. “You want it back, you can have it. But your dad has to come for it, not you, and when he does, I’m going to tell him how you lied about my dog, and how you would have let Banjo die to hide what you and Ben were doing out here. You shot him! Don’t you care?”
Ben looked at the ground.
“You’re going to pay for this,” Billy said.
“No. You are!”
“We’re done here,” Tyrell said. “Let’s go home.”
Danny nodded but didn’t move until the ATV fired up and the brothers took off.
Tyrell put his arm around Danny’s shoulder. “You should think about being a detective. That was incredible, the way you put all that together.”
“Those two were out here being stupid, and when they shot Banjo, they had to come up with a story or get in trouble for sneaking out.”
“And they were willing to let Banjo die rather than tell the truth.”
Danny looked up the rise at Ruby. “Banjo suffered…for nothing. Nothing!”
They headed back up the hill.
“So,” Tyrell said as they neared the barn. “What are we going to tell Mr. Brodie when he comes for his rifle? You know he will.”
Danny thought a moment. “Well, we’ll give it to him…along with that beer bottle and the other one. Let him put two and two together.”
Tyrell broke into a wide grin. “You are smarter than you look.”
“Didn’t take a genius.”
They headed toward the house, a cow bellowing in the distance.
Banjo Page 13
