Saddle Up(45)

Miranda paused, not knowing how much she should volunteer. Although her grandmother wasn’t a prude by any means, she still wasn’t comfortable sharing about her love life. Then again, she’d never been able to keep anything from her grandmother. Why try now?

“Yes.” Miranda sighed. “We weren’t supposed to be alone…but the others got held up. He really took care of me out in the desert. I really like him, Jo-Jo.”

“Like?” her grandmother repeated, brows raised. Did Jo-Jo have some kind of sixth sense?

“Okay. It’s more than just like,” Miranda confessed, cheeks coloring. “But we’re probably never going to see each other again.”

“Why not? Where’s he from?”

“Wyoming. His family has a ranch on the Wind River Reservation.”

Jo-Jo looked surprised. “He’s an Indian?”

“Yes,” Miranda said. “Well, half anyway. Shoshone. I had no clue about the scope of the mustang problem until I starting looking at it through his eyes.”

Jo-Jo’s gaze narrowed. “So this mustang sanctuary was his idea?”

“Not at all,” Miranda said. “He’s totally against it. I won’t deny that I’d really like for Keith to be a part of this, but I promise you I’d still want to move forward with the idea if he wasn’t involved.”

Jo-Jo looked unconvinced. “I’m beginning to suspect that he has far more to do with all this wild-horse business than you’re ready to acknowledge, or maybe that you even realize. Before I commit to this scheme of yours, you’d better be really certain of your true motivation, Miranda Jo. This is some major responsibility we’re talking about, and not the kind of thing you can change your mind about later.”

“I understand that,” Miranda said. “I know it would be a long-term commitment. I promise I’m not taking this lightly.”

“I know your heart is in the right place, but you know even less about all this than I do. I don’t understand why you’d be thinking about it at all. I thought you had your mind set on a career in movies. It’s all you’ve ever talked about.”

“It wasn’t how I thought it would be, Jo-Jo,” Miranda said. “I still love cinematography, but Hollywood isn’t where I want to be. I don’t fit in there. I wasn’t happy. It hurts me almost as much as it does you to see the ranch go. Why couldn’t we run it together?”

“But there’s nothing for you to do here in Silver Star. It’s all just ranchers. There are very few young people. You’d be bored to tears within a month.”

“But I’ve always loved the ranch, Jo-Jo. I’ve never been bored here before.”

“Because you were never here long enough to get bored. Besides that, we always did our best to keep you entertained. But we’re not talking about a summer vacation anymore. We’re talking about running a working ranch.”

“Just think about it, will you? I’d honestly like to do this. If you can give me one good, solid reason not to do it, I promise never to bring it up again.”

Jo-Jo laughed. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart. You and I both know that you’re like a dog with a bone once you get an idea in your head. I know you aren’t flighty, but this is a radical, life-changing decision you’re talking about. You need to be damned certain it’s the right one. I’m gonna sleep on this, and I’d advise you to do the same. If there’s one thing I learned from Bud in all our years together, it was never to make hasty or emotional decisions. They’ll always come back to bite you in the ass.”





Chapter 17


Wyoming Checkerboard lands

Keith stood by with the Judas horse, gazing out over the sagebrush-peppered landscape of the checkerboard lands. It was a routine he could have performed blindfolded after three months of gathering hundreds of horses in as many states. This was the biggest roundup yet, but it wasn’t exactly going according to plan. Over nine hundred mustangs had been served an eviction notice courtesy of Uncle Sam. Not for the first time, Keith experienced a sharp stab of conscience, as if he were a traitor, a betrayer of trust.

Ears perked, one small band warily watched the chopper’s approach. A few of them snorted annoyance as the helicopter crested the horizon, then seemingly unconcerned, turned and trotted away. Another bunch appeared more cooperative at first, but suddenly spread out like fingers to gallop away into the brush.

Keith shook his head. Nope. This definitely wasn’t their first rodeo. These horses had obviously been gathered before and had grown wise to the wily ways of the wranglers. Unlike the Nevada herds, they were accustomed to, even jaded by, the helicopter. They were also perfectly fat and happy in their present home and had every intention of staying.

Just like the native peoples once had, these animals had roamed the land freely for centuries. Unfortunately, their desire to remain held no weight against the court order demanding their removal. Protecting the ecosystem was the reason behind the capture, but the truth was simple enough if one just followed the money trail. The horses were freeloaders living on the largesse of the government. Others desired use of the same lands and were willing to pay for the privilege.

He watched with a gladdened heart as the helicopter followed a band of bachelor stallions who continued their campaign of passive resistance. The pilot circled, honing in on a single horse that spun to face him with clear defiance. The chopper came closer, hovering maybe thirty feet away. The horse remained unintimidated.