Black Hills (26 page)

“Mister? Can I ride on your horse?”

Farley looked down at a girl of about eight, pretty as a sunbeam in her pink hooded coat.

“If your folks say so, you can sit up here with me, and I’ll walk you around. Hobo’s a gentle one, ma’am,” he said to the mother.

“Please!
Please!
I’d rather ride on the horse than watch the lions and stuff eat chicken.”

There was a short debate. Farley stayed out of it and gave himself the pleasure of watching Tansy tell the boy—about twelve, Farley supposed—how tigers stalked and ambushed.

In the end, the girl had her way and squeezed onto Hobo in front of Farley. “This is a
lot
more fun. Can you make him go really fast?”

“I could. But I expect if I did your ma would have my hide.”

“What’s a hide?”

He chuckled. “My skin. She’d skin me if I did that after I promised to go easy.”

“I wish I had a horse.” She leaned forward to brush her hand over Hobo’s mane. “Do you get to ride all the time? Every day?”

“I guess I do.”

The little girl sighed. “You’re so lucky.”

Behind her, Farley nodded. “I am. I’m lucky all right.”

Since the girl—Cassie—couldn’t have been less interested in the feeding, Farley got the okay to show her around on the horse. Hobo, steady as Gibraltar, placidly clopped the path while the animals screamed, growled, roared, and howled.

As twilight fell, Farley waved goodbye.

“That was nice of you, Farley.” Tansy watched the minivan head down the road. “Taking the time and trouble to entertain her.”

“It wasn’t any trouble. Easier to walk a horse around than haul all that meat, which I’d’ve felt obliged to help do if I hadn’t been occupied.”

He pulled the daffodils out of his bag. “These are for you.”

She stared at the bright yellow trumpets. He wondered if she knew how clearly everything showed on her face, the surprise and the pleasure—and the worry. “Oh, Farley. You shouldn’t—”

“You had a rough start this morning. I’m hoping you let me give you a better end to the day. Why don’t you come out with me, Tansy?”

“Farley, I told you we’re not going to get involved like that. We’re friends, and that’s all. We’re not going to date.”

It took some effort not to smile. She was still using her “official” voice. “Then why don’t you let me buy you a burger, like a friend would when his friend has a hard day. Just take your mind off things, that’s all.”

“I’m not sure that’s—”

“Just a hamburger, Tansy, to save you from having to fix a meal or figure out where to get one for yourself. Nothing more than that.”

She gave him a long look, with that line digging in between her eyebrows. “Just a burger?”

“Well, maybe some fries. Doesn’t seem like a burger without the fries.”

“Okay. Okay, Farley, I’ll meet you in town. In about an hour. How about Mustang Sally’s?”

“That’s fine.” Since he didn’t want to push his luck, he swung into the saddle. “I’ll see you later.”

He rode away, with a big grin on his face and a loud
yee-haw
in his heart.

In the office she shared with Tansy, Lil sat with her foot on the desk and her eyes on the ceiling. She glanced over when Tansy came in, smiled at the daffodils. “Pretty.”

“I don’t want any remarks.” She clipped out the words. “It was just a nice gesture from a friend. Something to cheer me up.”

Lil debated for a moment, then decided if you couldn’t screw with your friends, who could you screw with? “I know. He brought me daisies.”

Tansy’s face fell. “He did?” She recovered, smiled toothily. “Well, there, you see? Just a nice gesture. It doesn’t mean anything but that.”

“Absolutely not. You ought to put them in water. The wet paper towels and plastic wrap only hold them for so long.”

“I will. I’m going to go home, if there’s nothing urgent. Long day. The interns are finishing up, so I’ll give Eric—and whoever needs it—a lift back to town.”

“Sure. Lucius is working on something. He said he’d probably be another twenty minutes, which in Lucius time means another hour. He can lock up.”

“After this morning that doesn’t seem good enough.”

“I know, but it’s what we can do.”

Worry clouded her eyes. “Cooper’s coming back, staying the night?”

“Apparently I’m outvoted on that. And no comments there, either. Tit for tat.”

Tansy held up her free hand. “Not a word.”

“I can hear what you’re thinking, and will ignore it. Meanwhile, one thing. I just got off the phone with a woman outside of Butte. She has an eighteen-month-old melanistic jaguar, born in captivity and purchased by her as an exotic pet.”

“Spotted or black?”

“Black. She’s had it since it was a kit. A female, named Cleopatra. A couple of days ago, Cleo was, apparently, feeling both frisky and peckish and ate Pierre, a teacup poodle.”

“Oops.”

“Yes, big oops for little Pierre. The owner is hysterical, her husband is furious. Pierre belonged to his mother, who was visiting from Phoenix. He’s laid down the law, and Cleo must go.”

“Where would we put her?”

“There’s a question. I’m working on it. We could provide a temporary habitat by fencing off a section of Sheba’s area. She’s not using all her area anyway. Rarely leaves the den or the immediate vicinity.”

“Can we afford it?”

“I’m working on that, too.” Leaning back, Lil tapped a pencil on the edge of her desk. “I think Cleo’s owner can be persuaded to make a nice, fat donation to ensure Cleo’s happiness and well-being.”

“Define ‘nice and fat.’”

“I’m hoping for ten thousand.”

“I like the way you hope.”

“It’s not an impossible dream,” Lil told her. “I just Googled the owners. They’re rolling in it. They’re ready to pay all expenses and fees to get her here, the transportation, the cost of sending a team to Montana for her—and indicated there would be a prize in the box if we could move quickly. I asked her to give me a day to consider the logistics.”

Lil’s eyes lit up as she tossed the pencil down. “A black jaguar, Tansy. Young, healthy. We could breed her. And God knows she’d be happier and better off here than on some ranch in Montana. We have most of the materials we need for a temporary habitat. In the spring, when the ground’s thawed, we can expand, put in a permanent one.”

“You’ve already decided.”

“I don’t see how we can resist. I think I can get the cat and five figures out of this. I think I can make this woman so happy and grateful we may end up with a valuable supporter. I’m going to think about it more. You do the same. We’ll talk about it in the morning, and decide.”

“Okay. I bet she’s beautiful.”

Lil tapped her computer screen, so Tansy skirted around the desk. “She e-mailed me pictures. We’ll get the rhinestone collar off her. She’s gorgeous. Look at those eyes. I’ve seen them in the wild. They’re dramatic and mysterious and a little spooky. She’d be an amazing addition. She needs a refuge. She can’t be introduced to the wild. We can give her a good home here.”

Tansy patted Lil’s shoulder. “Oh, yeah, you
think
about it more. See you in the morning.”

It was full dark by the time Lil left the office. When she stepped out and spotted Coop’s truck, she hunched her shoulders. She hadn’t heard him drive up. Too involved, she admitted as she crossed the compound, with refreshing herself on jaguars, working out the logistics of transportation and habitat. They’d need a vet to clear her, Lil thought. She couldn’t trust the word of the owner on that. Still, if the cat had any medical problems it might be even more important to give her sanctuary.

She’d wheedle money out of Cleo’s owner. She was good at wheedling donations. It might have been far from her favorite part of the job, but she was good at it.

She stepped inside.

A fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth. Coop sat on the sofa, his feet on her coffee table, a beer in his hand. With the other he worked on a notebook computer on his lap.

She shut the front door with a little more force than necessary. He didn’t bother to look up.

“Your mother sent over a chunk of ham, some sort of potatoes, and I think it might be artichokes.”

“I can make my own food, you know. I just haven’t had a chance to get to the store for supplies in the last few days.”

“Uh-huh. I brought over a six-pack if you want a beer.”

“Coop, this can’t . . . This is wrong in so many ways.” She pulled off her coat, tossed it aside. “You can’t just
live
here.”

“I’m not. I’ve got my own place. I’m just sleeping here for a while.”

“And how long is a while? How long do you plan to sleep on my sofa?”

He sent her a lazy glance as he took a pull of his beer. “Until you loosen up and let me into your bed.”

“Oh, well, if that’s all, let’s go. Come on, let’s hit the sheets. Then we can both get back to our regularly scheduled lives.”

“Okay. Just give me a minute to finish this up.”

She clamped her hands on her head, paced a circle. “Fuck,” she said. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I might’ve put it more delicately than that.”

She stopped, then squatted on the other side of the coffee table. “Cooper.”

He took another sip of his beer. “Lillian.”

She shut her eyes a moment because there had to be some sense, some shade of sanity in the chaos murking up her brain. “This arrangement is awkward and unnecessary, and just weird.”

“Why?”

“Why? Why? Because we have a history, because we had a . . . thing. You do realize that everyone in the damn county figures we’re sleeping together again.”

“I don’t think everyone in the county knows either one of us, or cares. And so what?”

She had to scramble for an answer to that. “Maybe I want to sleep with somebody else, and you’re in the way.”

Coop took a long, slow pull from the beer this time. “Then where is he?”

“Okay, forget that one. Just forget that one.”

“Happy to. It’s got to be your turn to put the meal on.”

“See?” She jabbed a finger in the air. “
There.
What is this ‘turn’ crap? This is
my
house. Mine, mine, mine. And I come in to find you on
my
sofa, with your feet on
my
coffee table, drinking
my
beer—”

“I bought the beer.”

“You’re deliberately missing the point.”

“I got the point. You don’t like me being here. The point you’re missing is I don’t care. You’re not staying here alone until this trouble is resolved. I told Joe I’d look out for you. That’s it, Lil.”

“If it makes you feel any better I can arrange for an intern to stay in the next cabin.”

The faintest trace of impatience flickered over his face. “Would the average age of your interns be maybe twenty? I wonder why the idea of some skinny college kid as your backup doesn’t ease my mind. You’d save yourself from aggravation if you just accept that I’m going to be around until this is settled. Did you make that list?”

“Until” was the sticking point, wasn’t it? she thought. He’d be around until . . . he was finished, he decided to move on again, he found something or someone else.

“Lil?”

“What?”

“Did you make that list?”

“What list?” When he smirked, it came back to her. “No, I didn’t make any damn list. I had a few other minor things on my mind today.” Though she knew it was a kind of surrender, she dropped down to sit on the floor. “We took two thirty-two slugs out of the gray wolf.”

“I heard.”

“They have to run ballistics, but we all know it was the same gun, used by the same man.”

“That’s your good news. You’d have more to worry about if you had two shooters.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. Well, whoopee.”

“You need better security.”

“I’m working on it. More cameras, lights, alarms. The health and safety of my animals is priority, but I can’t just reach in my pocket and pull out the money to pay for all that.”

He hitched up, reached in his pocket, and took out a check. “Donation.”

She smiled a little. Damn it, he was being considerate and kind—and she was being nothing but bitchy. “And all are gratefully accepted, but I priced some of the equipment and systems today so . . .”

She glanced at the check. Her brain simply froze. She blinked, blinked again, but the number of zeros remained the same. “What the hell is this?”

“I thought we’d established it’s a donation. Are you going to heat up that food your mother sent?”

“Where the hell did you get this kind of money? And you can’t just give it away like this. Is this a real check?”

“It’s family money. Trust fund. My father’s kept it locked down as much as he could, but it’s been trickling in every five years or so.”

“Trickle.” She whispered the word. “In my world this is a lot more than a trickle.”

“He’ll have to let loose of another payment when I hit thirty-five. He can hold the rest back until I’m forty, and he will. It pisses him off he can’t break the trust altogether and stiff me. I’m a big disappointment to him, on every level. But since that’s mutual, we deal with it.”

The gleam the donation put in her eyes dulled into sympathy. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry things never got any better between you and your father. I haven’t even asked about that, or your mother.”

“She’s married again. Third time. This one seems solid. He’s a decent guy, and from the outside, anyway, it looks like she’s happy.”

“I know they came out to visit. I was doing fieldwork so I wasn’t here. I know it meant a lot to Sam and Lucy.”

“She flew out when he got hurt. Surprised me,” Coop admitted. “I think it surprised everyone, including her.”

“I didn’t know. So much has been going on since I got back from Peru. I’ve missed a lot of details. It’s better, then? You and your mother?”