After we'd finished the dishes, and cleaning up the kitchen, Crane hung the dish cloth over the faucet, and switched off the light
over the sink.
"Whew," he said.
"What are you gonna do now?" I asked him.
"Put my feet up, and have a beer." He paused, looking at me. "Why?"
"I just wondered. I think I'll go out and talk to Guthrie."
"Okay."
"Can we take your camera tomorrow?" I asked. "When we go with Ivy?"
"We can," he said, with a nod. "You might check the film, though. I don't know how many shots are left on that roll."
"Okay. I will."
I went outside then, pausing at the back door to look around. I saw no glimpse of Guthrie, though. Remembering what Daniel had
said to me about how I usually always went to the same places when I wanted to be alone, I realized that the same could be said of
Guthrie. Probably not the barn loft, or the treehouse. He was pretty grown up for those places now. But, the creek maybe. Or, I hesitated,
thinking. Maybe not that far, even. Loving his pickup as he does, he might be tinkering around under the hood of it. Guthrie seemed to
spend an inordinate amount of time doing that.
I went around towards the front, and, sure enough, there in front of the barn, Guthrie was leaning, peering into the
engine of his pickup.
I thought of something, and went back around to the kitchen door, grabbing a couple of Cokes from the carton by the stove. I stuck the
bottle opener in my pocket and went back out again. Walking over to where he stood, I paused, the bottles in my hands.
"Hey," I said, in greeting.
"Hey."
"Want a Coke?" I offered.
"Sure," he said, pausing to look up at me, wrench in hand. There was a steak of grease, or oil or something across one of his
cheeks.
I took the opener and popped the cap off a bottle, and handed it to him. "It's not cold," I said.
"That's okay." He took a long swallow. "Still good."
"Coke's best cold, and coffee's best hot," I said.
Guthrie leveled a look at me, and raised his eyebrows, with a look that suggested I was slightly crazy.
"I'm just saying," I told him, mildly.
He shook his head, and took another drink.
"You've got something-" I reached out to swipe at his cheek. "Right there."
Guthrie dodged back. "Hey," he protested.
He took another long drink, finishing off the bottle of Coke.
"Here," he said, and held out the empty bottle to me.
I took it, and he turned his attention back to the motor.
"What's wrong with it?" I asked, stepping closer and peering into it, too.
"You wouldn't understand even if I told you," he said.
Now it was my turn to protest. "Hey," I said.
"Truth," he said. "To you, it's the thing-a-ma-jig, and the do-hopper."
"Okay, okay," I said.
After a few moments of quiet, I said, "Kristin didn't want to go home."
"Do you blame her?" Guthrie asked curtly. And then, just as quickly, he said, "Sorry," and sighed, looking up at me.
"At least Frank's not there," I offered.
"They won't keep him in jail long."
"Why not?" I asked, indignant.
"I mean, they won't keep him long right now. He'll get out on bail."
"Oh. Are you surprised that he was involved?" I asked.
"Sort of. I would have thought he was too lazy to do anything that took that much effort," Guthrie said, with disgust.
"Are you still thinking to go see Kenny?" I asked him then.
"I'm pretty sure I will."
"It might be weird. Seeing him in a place like that, I mean."
"I know," Guthrie said. And then, "Watch out."
I stepped back, and he slammed the hood of the truck down.
We stood there, quiet for a few moments, just looking at one another.
"Want to come with Ivy and Crane and I tomorrow?" I offered. "To look for the burros?"
"I don't know. Maybe. If my chores are done."
"Oh. Speaking of chores, I haven't fed the goats yet," I said.
Guthrie tagged along with me, as I went to gather the feed, and refill the water for Elwood P. Dowd and his two
wives. It was while we were doing that, that Guthrie said he thought one of the females, Pearl, was bred. I saw then, signs
that I should have seen before, confirming her pregnancy. I guess I've just been thinking about other things.
"Yea!" I said, in excitement.
"Only you would get so excited about a dumb baby goat," Guthrie said, but he grinned at me to soften his words.
We finished with the goats, and then went to sit in the back yard. Guthrie made himself comfortable in the hammock, and
I sat on the back steps.
We sat outside that way, until the stars were out.
7
It was when Guthrie and I went inside, and he'd gone up to take a shower, though complaining that he knew there
would be no hot water left at all. I'd washed up at the kitchen sink, and done my injection. Then I made some
microwave popcorn, and cut up a couple of apples. Thinking that I'd ask Guthrie if he wanted to try to find a movie on
television to watch, I was searching for a dessert, to satisfy Guthrie's sweet tooth.
I was standing on a chair, rooting thru the upper cabinets. Sometimes, you could find a Hostess snack box up there. But, only
sometimes. This was one of the times that it seemed they'd been discovered, and devoured already.
There was a noise behind me, and I turned to see Brian coming in from the living room.
I felt sort of funny, awkward. Remembering our conversation, or rather the lecture, that he'd given me earlier.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi," he answered. He went to the cabinet and pulled down a glass, going to the refrigerator, and pulling out
the pitcher of sweet tea, and pouring it.
"I was looking for some cupcakes or Ho Hos, or something," I said, in conversation.
"Not what you ought to be eating, is it?"
"For Guthrie," I said. "Not me."
"Oh."
"It looks like they're all gone, though," I said, and hopped down from my perch on the chair.
"No big surprise with that."
"No," I said, in agreement. And then I added, "Pearl's pregnant."
"Is she? Well, that's good," he said.
There was quiet between us, and I felt even more awkward.
"Are you mad at me?" I asked him.
There was a long, long quiet. At least, it seemed so to me. Brian regarded me unwaveringly the whole time. I tried
not to look away.
"I'm not mad," he said finally.
I didn't feel all that relieved. There was something in his tone.
I should have left it at that. But, I didn't want to go to bed with things 'off' between Brian and I.
"I didn't ask Ivy to go look for the burros," I maintained.
"So you said."
"You don't believe me?" I asked, ready to be hurt and insulted.
"If I didn't believe you, I'd say so," Brian said.
Bat shit. Now, I'd done it again. Said the wrong thing.
"Okay," I said, quietly, looking at him tremulously.
"Hopefully, she'll find somethin' out."
"Yeah." I thought a moment. I was sure, just positive, that the burros weren't what had caused the illness amongst our
cattle.
Again, there was silence. I searched Brian's face, wishing we could 'meet in the middle'. I knew that I'd sleep better if we
did.
"Bri-" I began.
"Harlie, let's just wait and see what Ivy finds out from the blood work she took today. Alright?"
"Okay. But-"
"Harlie," he said, in a stronger tone, and I paused, getting quiet.
"I'm tired, and you're persistent, and this conversation won't end well. So, let's just wait it out," Brian said firmly.
I nodded then. And was quiet. I mean, what else could I say or do right then? And, I knew Brian was right. We would
end up in a back-and-forth thing, where he got mad, and I got mouthy, and then I would be in trouble.
He refilled his tea glass, and I held out the bowl of popcorn. "Want some?" I offered.
"No, thanks. I'm headin' up to bed. You should, too."
"I was going to hang out with Guthrie a while longer," I said.
"Alright. Don't stay up too late," he cautioned, and headed up the back stairs, carrying the glass. "Goodnight."
"Night, Bri."
7
I set my small alarm clock for early the next morning. I got dressed and went downstairs the back way. I was intent on
eating, and then doing my chores, checking on the expectant goat, and being ready when Ivy arrived.
I was down early, but Ford and Evan were already in the kitchen. Ford was sitting at the table, reading one of the thickest
books I'd ever seen, while drinking orange juice. Evan was at the stove, turning on the burner, and making scrambled eggs.
"Morning," I said, briefly, going to pour a cup of coffee.
They both returned my greeting, and Evan said, "I'll have some eggs ready in a couple of minutes."
"Okay. What are you guys doing up so early?" I asked.
"Got stuff to catch up on," Evan said, and Ford nodded in agreement.
"Yeah," Ford said.
I sat my cup of steaming coffee at my place at the table, and went to pull down plates from the cabinet. I laid them around the
table, one at each chair, and then took mine over to the stove, waiting, until Evan scooped some eggs from the skillet onto the plate.
I sat down, and began eating the eggs, and then took a banana from the fruit bowl, peeling it and laying it on my plate as well.
I told them about Pearl being pregnant, and Evan said, "Oh, boy," in a begrudging sort of way.
"What's wrong with that?" I asked him.
He just shook his head, and I went on, "The goats do their share around here, you know."
When everybody else began to make their way to the kitchen, Evan had gone thru three dozen eggs, making enough
to heap a platter.
Since I was already nearly finished, I prepared to stand up, ready to take my plate to the sink, and get outside.
"We need to start thinking about shopping for some school clothes," Hannah was telling me.
I paused, looking at her. With everything going on lately, school was the furthest thing from my mind.
"We've got time," I said.
"Not that much time. It'll be here before you know it," Hannah said.
I was glad when she dropped the subject, and I could get outside. I did my morning chores, spending extra time
in the goat yard, watching Pearl.
By the time Ivy pulled up, I was caught up, and walked over to meet her as she got out.
"Morning, Harlie," she said.
"Morning."
I told her I would go try to find Crane, and invited her to come inside. We went up the front steps, and into
the living room, where Captain Jack gave a loud squawking, and hollered, "Pass the bread!"
Ivy jumped, startled.
"Oh, my goodness," she said.
I tried not to smile. "That's Captain Jack," I said, in introduction.
"He's a Macaw, isn't he?"
"Uh huh." We both paused near to the cage. "He was Doc G's."
"Oh," Ivy said, and looked to me. "And, now he's yours?"
"Yeah. Well, he's mostly Ford's now. Ford keeps him at college during the school year."
"He's just beautiful," she said, continuing to study Captain Jack.
"I'll get Hannah," I told her, and went to the kitchen, which was empty. I headed up the back stairs, finding
Hannah and Clare in the midst of a mountain of baby clothes, sorting, and talking about what was too small for Isaac now.
"Ivy's here," I said breathlessly.
"Oh," Hannah said. "Well, I'll go down and say hi."
"Do you know where Crane is?" I asked.
"No idea at all," she said, and Clare shook her head.
"Me, either."
"Okay," I said, and ran back down the front stairs. "I'll go find Crane," I told Ivy.
I didn't have to search long. Crane was walking up from behind the barn, with Adam, so I stayed where I was,
catching my breath.
"Ivy ready?" Crane greeted me.
"Uh huh."
"Did you get the camera?" he reminded me.
"I'll do it now."
While they all said hello, and stood talking, I went to get the camera from Crane's bedroom. Crane's a naturally tidy sort
of person, so the room was neat. And Daniel's side of the room, in use only when he's home, was all neat, as well.
In the wooden wardrobe, where Crane keeps the Nikon camera, there were a stack of papers. I gave them just the
briefest of glances. When I saw what they were about, I paused, though, leaning to read the top.
They were about preservation and protection of the Mustangs, and there were stacks of them. I lifted the corner, flipping
thru the stack. There were all sorts of those pie-charts, and statistics, and financial things about the wild horses that I didn't really
understand. I closed the wardrobe door again, thinking.
I didn't understand everything on those sheets of paper. But, I did understand that Crane had gone to the trouble of
gathering them, and was more than likely reading, and studying them. Which meant he was more than just merely "interested"
in the herds, and what was happening to them.
7
I went back down with the camera, taking the bag with extra film in it, as well.
I went to grab a ball cap, pulling it down and my ponytail thru the back. After that, I waited while the four of them
finished their conversation in the living room.
Adam still seemed to have a reservation, of sorts, about the whole thing. Going to look for the burros, I mean.
It wasn't that he said anything against it. He didn't. It was more something that I sensed in him.
It was while he was talking to Ivy, that Hannah took the moment to say to me, very quietly, "I hope you
find them today."
I searched her face. "Me, too."
"Maybe it will settle some things," she said then.
I puzzled over what she meant by that, exactly. I took a quick glance to where Adam was, to see if he was listening. He
wasn't.
"Settle what?" I asked Hannah. "You mean, about whether they're sick?"
"Well, yes, that's part of it."
I realized that I'd never, since we'd seen the Mustangs being herded by the men, and the helicopters, had a real
conversation with just Hannah about it all.
"It's terrible what they're doing to the Mustangs, Hannah," I said. "They chase them. And sometimes they get close
enough with the helicopters to actually hit them."
"Of course it's terrible," she agreed.
Okay. Her comment seemed sort of general to me. Not specific.
"Let's go, Harlie," Crane was saying. I flicked a glance at Hannah, still wondering. She gave me a half-smile.
"Good luck," she said.
There was no time to puzzle further. Ivy volunteered to drive her truck up into the pastures, but Crane said the Jeep
would be a better option. So they got into the front, and I was in the back seat, as we set out.
The wind was whipping thru, so I couldn't catch every word between Crane and Ivy. I do know that they discussed
the blood work that she'd done on the cattle the day before.
The whole time we were driving, I was watching for the burros. I pointed out to Crane where I'd seen him at the day before,
and then we drove on to where the Jenny had given birth. No sign of them. We toured the edges of the pastures,
driving for nearly an hour, and still no luck.
I was feeling crushed with disappointment. Downright discouraged. Crane asked Ivy if she wanted to
drive on further, to try to see the herd. Or what was left of the herd.
"I would love that," Ivy said. "Do you have the time?"
"I have time." Crane went on to tell her that there was no guarantee we would see any of the Mustangs.
Once at the stopping point, we three got out, loaded with water canteens, and me with some snacks in a backpack
for emergencies. Crane had the rifle strapped across his back, and I carried the Nikon, with a fresh roll of film.
As we walked, they talked. Crane was asking her how she felt her time in Murphys was going so far.
Crane is easy to talk to, and so I wasn't surprised that Ivy opened up to him, saying that she was finding
it a hard road with some of the ranchers in our area. Concerning how they seemed reluctant to accept her as
the vet.
"To be honest," Ivy said, "I'm not certain whether it's because I'm a female, and they don't think I can do
the job properly, or it's because I'm not Doc G."
At one point in time, her comment about measuring up to Doc G would have bothered me. But, I'd made my peace
with her, as far as stepping into his shoes. He would want all the folks in our area, including me, to support and accept her.
I was reminded at that moment, of the ranchers that had been standing around at the gas station in Angels Camp,
running down the Mustangs, and telling me I needed to hush up.
"Some of these ranchers around here have their thinking stuck in a century or so back," I tossed into the conversation.
Ivy laughed. "I have to say I agree with you."
"Doc G wouldn't like it," I went on. "He'd tell them all to pull their heads out of their backsides and appreciate
what you're doing."
Ivy stopped walking, turning to look at me, and bursting into more laughter. "I have to say, Harlie, you're
sure good for my self-esteem."
I smiled back at her. "Only stating the truth," I said.
"You're something else," Ivy said, and I saw admiration in her expression. "Isn't she, Crane?"
"A force of nature," Crane said, and smiled at both of us.
7