Saddle Up(31)

“What do you mean ‘run out of places’?”

“At last report, they have about fifty thousand mustangs they’re managing, and there’s at least three more gathers scheduled over the next month in Nevada alone.”

“Did you say fifty thousand?” she repeated incredulously. “That isn’t management. It’s insanity!”

Keith shook his head ruefully. “That’s government bureaucracy at work.”

“What’s going to happen to them all?” she asked.

“Who knows? The BLM is so desperate, they’ve even begun turning to private ranchers for help.”

“That’s got to be less expensive than keeping them at holding facilities, and better for the horses too,” she said.

“It still doesn’t fix the problem,” Keith said. “The entire mustang program is a total f*ck up—a waste of time, money, and resources.”

Keith opened her door, and she climbed into the cab. They drove in a strained silence, with Miranda casting him only occasional sidelong glances. His cynicism about the horse gathering surprised and disappointed her. Until now, she’d even begun to see him as the romantic lead in her own Wild West adventure, but his bitterness had tarnished some of the hero gleam.

“Something on your mind?” he prompted once they reached the end of the road where her car was parked.

“Yes. There is. I don’t understand you, Keith. If you don’t believe in this, why are you doing it?”

He cut off the engine and turned to face her. “Do you comprehend the term ‘necessary evil’?” he asked.

“I suppose so.”

“That’s what this is. Most of those horses back there would have died if we hadn’t gathered them.”

“So you’ve saved them,” she said. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Yes, we saved them,” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean they’ll have a good life.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because the ones that were gathered will be separated and never live as families again. Wild horses don’t live in large herds, but in small family bands—usually one stallion with a few mares and their offspring. They have very strong bonds. These horses are much like us. They are not dumb animals. They feel emotions. They get pissed off just like we do. They fear. They show affection. They even mourn. It’s a cruel practice to tear them apart.”

“So you really do care,” she said softly.

“Of course I care!” he exclaimed. “And I see far too many parallels between how the government is handling mustangs and how they ‘managed’ the Native American population.”

“I never would have thought of it like that,” she remarked.

“Because you have no connection to it. I do. Much like these horses, my father’s people were taken from their homes, families fractured, gathered up and trekked across the country to their ‘long-term pastures.’ Have you ever been to a reservation, Miranda?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“The rez is a depressing and dispiriting place. The people have mostly lost hope. Abject poverty has broken many of them. Drugs and alcohol are rampant, and life expectancy is less than fifty years. So you see, our designated ‘pastures’ didn’t turn out to be so green.”

“If you feel so strongly about the mustangs, why don’t you try to do something about it?”

“Do something? Like what?” he asked. “Look, Miranda. I learned a long time ago that some problems can’t be solved. And there’s no fixing this one. None of us here like the system, but there’s not a damned thing we can about it.”

“That’s not true,” she insisted. “You could do something. You just told me there are thousands of mustangs that need gentling, and you have a God-given talent with these animals. Why aren’t you using it for the greater good?”

“Simple,” he replied. “Because I’ve been around long enough to know that the ‘greater good’ rarely pays off.”





Chapter 12


“Looks like we’re about done here,” Mitch said after they’d freeze branded and immunized all of the gathered horses. Watching the crew, Miranda had been impressed by the speed and efficiency of the process. “Did you get everything to satisfy the court order?” he asked her.

“I got everything I came for,” Miranda answered. “But I’d really like to hang around with you a little bit longer.”

“Are you staying in Reno tonight, or heading back to L.A.?” Mitch asked.

“I hadn’t really decided yet,” Miranda replied. “It’s a really long drive, and I’m pretty whipped.”

“If you’re thinking about staying in Reno tonight, we get a special rate at JA’s Nugget,” Mitch said. “It’s the only place the boys ever want to stay.”

Beth looked to Mitch with a snort. “And it isn’t for the buffet.”

“Then why?” Miranda asked, glancing from one to the other. “I’m afraid I don’t get the joke.”

“They have bikini bull riding every weekend,” Mitch explained.

“It’s nothing but a shameful exhibitionist display, if you ask me,” Beth added with a shake of her head.