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Authors: Melanie Jackson

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BOOK: 7 Wild East
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Ricky nodded solemnly.


But I won’t like it
.”

 

*  * 
*

 

Thomas led the way into the woods, keeping a careful watch
on Ricky out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t want Ricky to know that he was
watching over him even though he took his responsibility as woodland guide very
seriously. Butterscotch and the community had displayed a not often shown trust
by allowing him to escort the boy out of town so soon after his brush with a
bear. Thomas knew this well. He just didn’t want Ricky to think that everyone
thought he needed a babysitter.

Since they’d first met, Thomas had sensed that Ricky didn’t
like him. With a little nosing around he’d discovered that the dislike stemmed
from the fact that Ricky wanted Thomas out of the way so that he could assume
his rightful place as junior Mountie beside Inspector Goodhead. Thomas knew
that this wouldn’t happen for several years, if ever, but he also knew that
there was no way he would be able to explain this fact to the boy. Though he
would have liked to have won Ricky over, he had no experience with children and
had no idea how to begin doing it.

They were no more than a hundred meters into the woods when
Thomas stopped and bent down close to the ground. On his hands and knees he
pushed aside the broad leaf of a larger bush just off the deer path to reveal a
frail red flower on a slim stalk. Thomas pulled a small book from his hip
pocket and began flipping through its pages.

“What are you doing?” Ricky asked petulantly. “You aren’t
tired already, are you?”

The dogs came over to pant in his face.

“I’m looking up this flower in my wildflower guide,” Thomas
explained.

“Why?”

“Because I want to know its name and other things about it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s beautiful. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”

“I suppose,” Ricky replied before stomping past the prone
man and walking deeper into the forest.

“Where do you suppose you’re going?” the Mountie called.

“I thought we’d go to the White Rock. There’s lots of plants
and animals there for you to play with,” Ricky replied without stopping or
looking back. Apparently he didn’t do rhetorical questions.

Thomas closed his guide book and hurried to catch up.

“You know, Ricky, you shouldn’t just wander off on your own
like that,” Thomas cautioned.

“Why?”

“Because it wouldn’t do to get lost.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t get lost.”

“I wasn’t talking about you,” Thomas corrected.

The boy and he stopped to consider one another. He could
tell the boy didn’t want to, but he smiled anyway. Thomas smiled too.

“Come on, I’ll show you the way,” Ricky said, extending his
hand. “It must be scary being out of the city for the first time. But don’t
worry, you get used to things pretty quick.”

Thomas took the boy’s hand and allowed him to lead the way
into the woods. Holding Ricky’s hand required him to stoop while he walked,
which was uncomfortable after a time, but still he stooped not wanting to break
the fragile bond he’d managed to forge with the boy. Along the way, Thomas
heard a sound.

“Did you hear that?” he asked, pulling Ricky to a halt.

Ricky listened and eventually heard the hoot of an owl.

“That’s an owl,” Thomas instructed. “I wonder what kind it
is.”

“Why?”

“You know, you ask a lot of questions,” Thomas pointed out.

“Yeah, I know,” Ricky replied in a melancholy tone. “My dad
told me that all the time.”

“I hope you realize that I meant my statement in a good way.
After all, you have to ask lots of questions if you want to be a scientist
someday.”

“What’s a scientist?”

“I’m a scientist. I received my degree in biology before
taking up with the RCMP. A scientist is a person who discovers new things.”

“I like to discover new things,” Ricky replied.

“Then I guess you will be a scientist someday.”

Ricky got a dreamy look in his eyes as if he was considering
a future rife with possibilities. Remaining quiet—which Thomas took to mean the
boy was still thinking—Ricky led the way to the White Rock. Sure enough, their
destination was indeed a large white rock sticking out of the ground. Ricky ran
at the rock’s face and threw himself into scaling the huge boulder with little
difficulty. Thomas was able to follow, but with great difficulty.

Together they sat on top of the rock saying nothing, simply
enjoying being alone in the woods and away from all the hubbub of town. Eventually,
the Mountie broke the silence.

“So, do you miss Los Angeles and your father?”

“At first I did, but the Flowers and everyone else are
really nice, and I prefer living out in the woods to living in a city. I do
still miss my dad though.”

“Yeah, I sometimes miss my father too.”

“Where is he?”

“He passed away two years ago. I think he would have been
proud to see me join the RCMP, if he’d lived long enough.”

“That’s tough,” Ricky acknowledged.

“Come on,” Thomas prompted. “What do you say we take a look
at some of the wildlife living on this rock?”

“Okay. First there’s these kind of lizards that live in the
cracks,” Ricky explained as he led them across the rock to a particularly deep
crevice.

Reaching his hand into the crack, Ricky retrieved it to show
that he was holding a pale-colored reptile. Thomas pulled his wildlife guide
from his pocket and began to search. When he came up with nothing he started to
get excited.

“You know, you might have found something here,” he
declared.

“What? It’s just a lizard.”

“No, actually it’s a newt. And I can’t find it in my
wildlife guide.”

“Is that good?” Ricky asked.

“Ricky, you may have just saved McIntire’s Gulch from a
horrible fate. And who knows, you may even end up winning the Nobel Prize for
science.”

Ricky’s eyes lit up at the mention of a prize. No doubt he
was fantasizing over a new bike or a toy truck. Thomas smiled at the boy and
Ricky smiled back.

“Let’s take pictures of these rare newts and bring them back
to town. I think everyone will be quite interested in our find.”

And relieved. If this species really was rare or
undiscovered, and reported promptly to the Manitoba Conservation Data Centre,
then it would halt the pipeline while a study was done—and probably forever—and
then the town could quit hiding the surveyors’ equipment and let them go home.

While Thomas used his cellphone to capture images of the
tiny animals that were all over the rock, Ricky stood and watched proudly as he
dreamed of someday becoming a lizard scientist.

 

*  * 
*

 

It was their second full day out on the survey and Anatoli
was pretty sure they would be done and back in the Gulch by the end of the day
tomorrow. He had also recommenced his role as sight handler for Whisky Jack. The
result of the two of them working in tandem was nothing short of astonishing. Anatoli
continued to act as guide and work the theodolite. Whisky Jack maintained the
records and pointed in the direction he wanted to go. Sasha and Horace had even
been put to work gathering and cataloging rock samples from each of their
survey sites. As a team they marched up the Ruby Valley until they were only a
handful of kilometers away from meeting up with the original pipeline path.

It was beginning to get dark when Whisky Jack called them to
a halt to set up camp. Everyone was exhausted and more than ready to stop for
the day. Tomorrow morning they would finish the survey and head home. The
surveyors were happy to only have to spend one more day camping.

As Anatoli smoothed out his bedroll, he heard Whisky Jack in
the background radioing in his report. He smiled when he heard the applause
from the other end of the line in response to Jack announcing they’d be
returning the following day.

For dinner, Horace produced two cans of tamales from his
pack. After they were heated over the fire everyone enjoyed gorging on them. While
they ate, the men joked about the work and queried Jack about the report he’d
been working on every night by flashlight. To hear Jack talk of it, the report
was going to be a knockout, but Anatoli suspected it would be yet another dry
science report possibly referenced by many but read by few.

That night Anatoli and Jack lay side by side next to the
fire. Anatoli couldn’t help but stare across at the old man and wonder how he’d
gotten into such a sorry state. As he considered the vagaries of fate, the old
man’s eyes opened to return his stare.

“What is it?” Jack whispered. “Did you hear something?”

“No,” Anatoli whispered back. “I was just thinking.”

“What?”

“It is such a waste.”

“What?”

“Your talent,” Anatoli concluded.

“Oh bosh!” Jack replied and then snarled something profane
under his breath. “Go back to sleep, Ruskie. Tomorrow will be a long hard day.”

Anatoli fell asleep almost immediately and the following day
was, just as predicted, exceedingly hard and exceptionally long.

 

*  * 
*

 

The radio news was received with happiness. The survey was
complete and no one was hurt. Our people might make it home as early as
tomorrow afternoon. People finished their whisky or coffee and then rinsed out
their cups and headed for home.

I decided to drop around by the inn where Chuck was keeping
Thomas and Pete entertained with a game of cards and an apple pie. And possibly
some whisky for Pete.

“We dodged a bullet there,” Big John said.

“Yes. Now all we have to do is convince Pete to use Jack’s
survey.”

“Aye, that’s all,” Big John said, refusing to be gloomy.

 

 

Chapter 7

 

Thomas was torn. It was not legal or ethical to snoop in his
host’s home. But he
was
in an inn, a public place, and in possibly
public spaces since nothing was posted as private or off-limits, so what was
the harm in a casual stroll around the building?

He stopped first in Big John’s office. If anyone asked what
he was doing he would say he was looking for Ricky. Which he was, just hoping
he didn’t find him too quickly. The room was unoccupied, the mayor being at the
construction site. Thomas didn’t open any drawers or closets, but he permitted
himself to scan the surface of the desk and the one small bookcase. There was
no phone, no radio, no computer, only an old-fashioned ledger with pencil
entries. In Gaelic.

Outside the pub, he strolled to the large shed at the back
of the property. The door wasn’t locked—nothing in the town seemed to be
locked. Butterscotch had explained that in an emergency, being able to reach
shelter, firearms, tools, or a medical kit was crucial. That made sense. It
also backed up her claim that they had no crime and tended to treat each
other’s possessions as public property.

First he peered in the windows, but they were dusty and he
couldn’t make out anything except a workbench and some wire shelves with boxes
on them. Thomas fought a brief battle with himself. And then he opened the door
and stepped inside the small outbuilding that was set back from the rest of the
sheds. The air was still and warm and smelled of gunpowder.

He had expected tools, perhaps a snowmobile or motorcycle.
What he found were explosives, though many appeared to be homemade fireworks.

No phone, no radio.

Baffled, he backed out and closed the door. He had been
certain that there would be a phone or radio somewhere.

Remembering his excuse for wandering around, he called
softly, “Ricky.”

“What?” the small voice said directly behind him.

Unable to help himself, Thomas jumped an inch into the air.

“There you are. I was wondering if you wanted to take
another walk today, or if we should go to the construction site first and see
if they need help.”

Thomas was disappointed both in his own ineptness with old-fashioned
tools and in the general lack of enthusiasm about the newt he and Ricky had
discovered, but he realized that they were rather distracted by the building
project. Which might have been concocted—or at least moved forward—to keep the
surveyor busy.

Well, just as soon as he could get cell coverage he would
send his photos to the
Species at Risk
Registry. Hopefully that would stall the pipeline and no one would get arrested
for kidnapping a government surveyor.

Ricky considered his suggestion seriously.

“Maybe we should just stop by long enough to tell them where
we are and to get Max and Sisu. Have you been up to the lake yet? Maybe we can
discover a new kind of fish. And we can eat any that aren’t new. I know where
the fishing rods are.” He added, “You know, Butterscotch is teaching me to
catch fish with my hands. She’s better than anyone at fishing without a rod.”

“I’ve never seen that.”

Thomas thought that Ricky was very perceptive and
thoughtful, to know that his presence was a burden to the others while they
were engaged in the dangerous task of raising the log walls, and choosing to
keep away while they worked. He didn’t know that while Ricky
was
being
thoughtful, it was actually to keep clumsy Thomas safe and entertained while
his friends were engaged in the dangerous task of raising the log walls that
might crush the Mountie.

 

*  * 
*

 

Pete was less scrupulous than Thomas, but he had no
opportunity to snoop for his equipment or a phone. He tried to suggest to Mark
that he might like to have a look around for a phone or radio while he began
exercising that ankle, but the slacker was happy reading books and having the crazy
woman they called the Flowers bring him cookies and lemonade.

And anyway, he was needed at the construction site. His
knowledge was actually useful there and he was fascinated by the idea of a log
building. After all, he was going to retire one day and his dream had always
been to have a small cabin near a lake where he could go fishing. Building your
own with materials off your property sure seemed the way to go since it would
cut down greatly on the expense.

BOOK: 7 Wild East
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