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Past the boundary of the Rocking R, Kurt noticed a surveying crew at work. Curious, he wondered what Ezra Stone, his closest neighbor and owner of Double S Ranch, was up to.
“Can I go back home now, Dad? I told Joey I’d ride over to his place today. He’s got a new Nintendo game.”
“Sure, son. Just be sure you’re back for supper.”
“’Kay.” Reining his horse around, Toby touched his heels to the gelding and took off at a gallop.
Kurt could only hope the horse had enough sense not to step in a prairie dog hole and break his leg.
Deciding to check on the surveying project before he went back to the barn, he trotted over to the fence. A pickup owned by T&K Engineering of Billings, MT, was parked nearby.
“Morning,” he called to the closest man, who was wearing an orange safety vest and a Seahawks ball cap.
“Morning.” A young guy, he tipped the bill of his cap. His sideburns reached all the way to his jawline.
“What’s the survey for?”
“Don’t know. We’re just mapping the elevations and putting corner stakes in.”
Kurt lifted his Stetson then resettled it on his head. “Ezra didn’t tell you what he’s planning to do?”
“Nobody named Ezra hired us.” He checked his clipboard. “Looks like an outfit called Western Region Cattle Feeding hired us. They’re headquartered in, uh, Cheyenne.”
Dread landed in his chest with the weight of a boulder. Adrenaline surged, readying him for a fight. He tightened his hands on the reins, which made his horse back up a few steps.
He knew that outfit. There’d been talk of them on the ranchers association website and articles in the Billings newspaper. They ran concentrated animal feed lots and had a reputation of not caring what sort of environmental damage they did as long as they showed a profit.
“Are they going to put in a feed lot here?”
The surveyor lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “No idea. I just measure and note, that’s all.”
“Have they gotten a permit already?” Kurt pressed. He hadn’t been notified by the authorities or read anything in the newspaper. Maybe it was still pending.
“Beats me.” The guy switched his ball cap so the visor was in the back and sighted his equipment toward his partner, who stood a couple hundred feet away.
If a feed lot so close to the Rocking R wasn’t properly drained, it could turn the nearby spring creek into a polluted garbage dump. Kurt’s herd wouldn’t be able to drink the water. He’d have to fence it off. Maybe even need to dig a new well if he wanted to keep cattle grazing this northern section.
Why on earth would Ezra sell or lease his land to an outfit like Western Region Cattle Feeding? And how could Kurt make sure the feeding operation was either stopped or forced to comply with environmental water quality rules? And monitored.
He wheeled Pepper toward home in a slow walk. Given the tension in his household—Beth on a razor edge of rebellion and his new housekeeper—and now the threat of a concentrated feeding operation butting up against his land, Kurt knew the summer was going to be filled with nothing but trouble.
To Sarah’s dismay, she’d learned that ranchers get up before dawn to start their day. She’d barely had a chance to dress before Kurt and Toby finished their breakfast and were out the door.
She cleaned up the dishes, then took a moment to sit at the kitchen table, drink a cup of tea and watch the eastern sky change from the pink of sunrise to the baby-blue of a summer day.
Beth came into the kitchen wearing a nice pair of designer jeans and a stretchy top that bared an inch or two of skin around her midsection. A little mature for a twelve-year-old, Sarah thought, but she didn’t say anything.
Without acknowledging Sarah’s presence, Beth dropped a couple of pieces of white bread into the toaster and found a jar of peanut butter in the cupboard.
“Good morning, Beth. Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Huh.”
“After I put on a load of wash—” which she had discovered in an overflowing laundry hamper “—and do a little dusting, I thought I might pull some weeds in the flower beds out front.”
“My mother took care of the flowers.” The toast popped up, and Beth spread peanut butter on each slice.
“It’s a shame to let the garden go. I’m sure the flowers were beautiful when your mother was alive.”
“I guess.” Beth took a bite of toast, then got out a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured herself a glass.
“I’d love to have you help me pull some weeds.”
“Can’t. I’m going to ride my bike into town. I’ll be home in time for supper.”
Beth’s casual announcement stopped Sarah in her mental tracks. “I thought I heard your father say you were grounded.”
She washed down the first piece of toast with a big gulp of juice. “Dad won’t care. He just said that ’cause Nana was so upset, having one of her stupid spells.”
Sarah had the niggling feeling that she was being conned by a budding expert. “Let’s check with your dad, okay?”
“He’s way out in the north pasture. There’s no way to reach him. And I’m tellin’ you, he won’t care.” She tossed her long hair behind her shoulder and started on the second piece of toast.
“Doesn’t he have a cell phone? We could call him.”
Beth stopped eating. Her gaze darted around the room, looking everywhere except right at Sarah.
“You don’t know anything about living on a ranch, do you?” she said in a disdainful way. “There are dead zones out here where you can’t get any cell service.”
“I saw you texting on your cell last night.”
Beth’s fair complexion bloomed with a spark of anger.
“That was here at the ranch. Not way off in the north section.”
“Well, then, we have a problem, don’t we.” Picking up her tea cup, Sarah walked over to the sink and set the cup down. “I can’t let you go anywhere unless I’m sure you have your father’s permission.”
Stunned, she widened her eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” she screeched.
Sarah winced. She really didn’t like confrontations. “No, I’m not, Beth. If there is no way to reach your father, then we’ll simply have to wait until he gets back home.”
“No way!”
Sarah knew her response wasn’t what Beth had hoped for. She was equally sure Kurt had grounded his daughter. Until she heard otherwise, she’d do whatever she could to keep Beth at home.
As calmly as possible, Sarah rinsed out her cup and set it on the drain board.
“You can’t do this to me,” Beth protested. “You’re not my mother.”
Sarah dried her hands on a paper towel. “Do you know where the furniture polish is kept?”
Making a growling sound like a angry bear, Beth threw up her hands. “Okay, you win. We’ll get Dad back here, and he’ll tell you that you’re not in charge of me.” She stormed toward the back door.
Not knowing what the girl was up to, Sarah followed her outside. The border collie she’d seen yesterday met them on the porch, his tail sweeping the air that still smelled of burned steak.
Beth stood in front of a large bronze gong hanging from an overhead beam. Fancy scrollwork made it look as though it had originally come from China.
“Hit this as hard as you can.” The muscle in Beth’s jaw flexed, her eyes narrowed as she handed Sarah the hammer. “He’ll hear it wherever he is. Then you’ll see.”
Using a gong to communicate seemed primitive to Sarah, but she gave it a solid whack. The metal vibrated, sending out waves of sound that echoed inside Sarah’s skull and started the dog howling.
Chapter Four
The sound of the emergency gong rang out over the prairie.
Kurt froze in the saddle. Intended to warn of a grass fire, no one had used that gong in years. Not since his mother had knocked over a kerosene lamp and…
Digging in his heels, he spurred Pepper toward the ranch house. Had Sarah tried to barbecue something on the back porch again? Maybe Beth had been messing around with candles in her room and caught the curtains on fire.
Or maybe a tourist had tossed a cigarette butt out a car window into the drought-dry grass and started what could end in an inferno.
Grimly, he urged his horse to a gallop.
Fire. Always a dangerous threat but more so when you lived far from town with only a few nearby ranchers to help put out the flames.
As his horse raced across the rolling landscape, Kurt searched the horizon for any sign of smoke. Nothing. Not a single puff of smoke in sight.
Nerves bunched his shoulders. He gripped the reins so hard they nearly cut through his riding gloves into his palms. The horse’s ears were turned to listen for his commands, and he knew the animal’s eyes were wide with a fright that reflected his own fears.
If there was no smoke and no fire, what other emergency could there be? Any number of dangers existed on a ranch, from mountain lions and wolf attacks to someone falling out of the hay loft.
The ranch house came into sight. No smoke. No fire.
Two pickup trucks were roaring down the road toward the Rocking R. They’d heard the gong, too. And responded.
The volunteer fire truck from town wouldn’t be far behind them.
In ranch country, neighbors helped neighbors.
Kurt unlatched the final gate separating the grazing land from the ranch house and barns, and sped the remaining yards to the back of the house. He reined the lathered horse to a halt in front of Beth and Sarah.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He was as winded as his horse, his lungs pumping hard.
Beth gave her ponytail an insolent flick with her hand. “Our new housekeeper,” she said in a snooty voice, “wouldn’t let me go into town unless you said so.”
Gaping at his daughter, Kurt shook his head. “You’re telling me you rang the emergency gong for that?”
“I did it,” Sarah said. “Beth told me there was no other way to reach you. I was under the impression you had grounded her.”
Anger built in Kurt’s chest. He forced himself to stay in control as the two pickup trucks roared up to the barn and four hands from neighboring ranches piled out of the vehicles.
“Both of you, stay right where you are,” he said.
“Especially you, Beth.”
He reined his horse toward the arriving men. Still agitated, the gelding danced around, and Kurt had to reassert control over the animal.
“Sorry, fellows. A false alarm. But thanks for coming.”
Larry Hicks from the Skyline Ranch thumbed his hat farther back on his head. “You sure everything is okay?”
No, everything was not okay. “A little misunderstanding. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“No problem. Boys were lookin’ for a little excitement anyway. They got the summer doldrums.” Larry grinned at his buddies.
“Could you call the dispatcher in town, ask ’em to call off the volunteer fire truck?” Kurt asked.
“Will do.” Larry resettled his hat and all the men climbed back into their trucks.
Kurt dismounted and walked his horse to the back of the house where Beth and Sarah were waiting for him.
Before Kurt had a chance to say a single word, Beth laid into him.
“Daddy, this is so wrong. I knew you didn’t really mean I was grounded. That was only for Nana’s benefit so she’d get off my back. And Beth wouldn’t believe me, so I—”
“You’re not only grounded, Beth, you’re going to do chores all day. Starting with cooling off Pepper.” He patted the horse’s sweaty neck. “And giving him a good rubdown. Cleaning out the stalls comes next.”
“Dad…dy!” she wailed. “You can’t mean—”
“I do. Every word.” He handed her Pepper’s reins.
“Now get busy, young lady. When the stalls are clean, come tell me, and I’ll think of something else for you to do. We’ve let a lot of things go around the place this past year.” Including him letting his daughter slide by when he should have been paying more attention to Beth and less to his own feelings of guilt and grief. That was going to change.
The daggers Beth glared at him had sharp points, and they hurt at some deep level he hadn’t felt in a long time.
She yanked on the reins and walked Pepper to the barn, her ponytail swinging like the swishing tail of a raging bull.
“I love you, angel,” he said under his breath, and exhaled a weary sigh.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. “I didn’t know that the gong would bring the entire county out here to see what was wrong.”
“Yep. That’s what it was meant to do.” He plucked his cell phone from the holster on his belt. “Of course, nowadays using one of these is a lot more efficient.”
Her eyes widened and pink colored her cheeks. “I asked about you having a cell. She said where you were was a dead zone.”
Taking off his hat, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and sat down on the top porch step. Rudy joined him, sitting on his haunches, his ears alert, his eyes curious.
“There’re a couple of dead zones,” Kurt said. “But three years ago the cell company put up three towers, one on my property and the other two nearby. My cell works most everywhere on the ranch. I should’ve thought to give you the number.”
